Several hours later
S’lann reflected on the journey and the people he’d seen. ‘Not met actually, just seen. The peasants of the area were surly and unfriendly. They greeted one another but they largely ignored strangers, giving them a wide berth on the road when possible or acting as if they really weren’t there.
He’d almost been run down by large carts twice.
And the drivers hadn’t even looked at him. That was both bothersome and worrisome, making him wonder how strangers/travelers would be treated in the city itself.
Now though, as he approached the gates of the western gate, the walls and gates itself gave him an impression of strength. The walls were several man-heights tall and appeared a few thick, with archers along the walls ready with crossbows and here and there, an archer with an actual bow.
Not good for a flier at all. He gulped a little at the thought, his imagination supplying the images of his winged form plummeting from the sky to thud into the unyielding earth like a clod of mud.
Splat.
He hunkered down, thinking that everyone was looking at him, trying to remain unnoticed. And it seemed his efforts were well-pain for he found himself entering the gate unchallenged, along with the press of carts and people heading in and out, farmers with wagons and people carrying goods upon their backs.
And he stepped into total turmoil and froze.
“Here sir,” one man called, nearly touching him, “see my fine rugs?”
“Fine lamps, fine lamps!” called another.
“Fresh fish, fish still swimming!”
“Geese, fat geese!”
“Fabric as soft as silk, cotton as fine as new skin!”
He darted into a dark alley, panting heavily, overcome with sounds, smells and the stares and chants of all those people trying to get his attention. It was overwhelming.
“What’s wrong with you?” a voice asked, slightly contemptuous.
In his panic S’lann hadn’t noticed that the alley might have someone in it. He started and looked over and then down, seeing a human-child probably younger than a decade.
”All those people- they were staring at me, trying to drag me around.”
“’Not from a city are you?” the kid asked, grimy, head shaved and dressed in layers of dirty ragged tunics to down to his/her knees and filthy bare feet.
“What makes you say that?” S’lann asked, proud he didn’t stutter or quaver.
Wordlessly the kid gestured out the mouth of the alley. “They’re *merchants*.” He replied, a little contemptuously. “They’re trying to get you to buy their wares. You didn’t know that so that means you’re not from anywhere where there’s markets like this. That means you’re not from a city.”
“You’re pretty bright,” S’lann replied, “I could use some help.”
“I can guide you and keep you outta trouble,” the kid replied, grinning gap-toothed, “for the right coin.”
“What do you want?”
“Five copper for the day and five percent of whatever purchases you make.” The kid grunted and grinned, “I can make sure nobody screws you in the market.”
S’lann, fearing the worst, looked at the kid with amazement. “You don’t look like you’re that tough.”
For his turn he cocked his head and decided his prospective client might be a simpleton. But, if he had the coin, he was going to work it out of him. “So, do we have a deal?”
S’lann gave it some thought, thinking about how much coin he had. “How about this: if you make sure I get the best prices and you keep me out of mischief, I’ll pay you a silver and ten percent of what I spend today? Deal?”
“I can live with that,” the kid told him. “’Name’s ‘Squirrel’.”
“Seran,” S’lann replied, having made up a name that sounded enough like his own he’d respond to it. People here tended to slur ‘r’ and ‘l’ sounds and Thayan Mulhorondi slurred hard sounds all over the place. “Where to?”
“Follow me,” Squirrel headed deeper into the alley and away from the screaming hawkers and beggars. He led a merry chase through alleys and across streets, using the ’dark ways’ of the city to avoid the eyes of the guards and merchants eager to push themselves on his client. He got the idea this ‘Seran’ was an escaped slave ~Prolly a lifer~ he thought to himself, watching the other move through the alleys like it was unfamiliar terrain. ~Bet he’s been in someone’s keep all his life and never been out once~ He shrugged to himself ~Sucks for him. He’s out now and got coin to burn and I intend to get a share of it~
It took them nearly two hours to get across the city, which frankly would have taken longer had they taken streets because of all the detours. They had had to cut through the government districts and the palace and the ‘under-roads’ had proven best, if smelly. ‘Seran’ hadn’t minded the smell at all, which seemed a bit odd for a household slave. Maybe he’d been a sewer-slave, someone down in the pits his whole life. But hear-tell those kinds die early from rot and disease and he seemed healthy enough, if a bit dim.
But his clothes were good and his weapons looked newish and of good quality and that spoke of either freedom won or things stolen. It was in his experience there weren’t too many generous options for slaves in this country so he was betting the latter.
They rounded a corner, passed through a door that hid the entrance to the alley and stepped into semi-gloom. The sky was visible above but only as a thin sliver as the roofs of the two buildings leaned together so that barely a few feet separated them, four stories above. The other end of the alley, cloaked in dimness, was also blocked off with a door that hid the contents of the alley and made it seem a private yard. Several of these enclaves dotted the city, if one knew where to look and had been given access to them, often having to pay a percentage for such access.
He gestured and announced proudly, “Glamour-alley. ‘Offers the best merchandise for the traveler who is both discerning and needs a quick purchase without many questions which,” he paused and winked at S’lann, “I think fits you. So, what do you need?”
S’lann took out the scrawled list they had made, a page from a journal and written with an ink-stick. “Pots, bowls, teapot, needles, fish hooks, grain-cubes, spices, dried fruit, cheese, soap, travel-bread.”
“’Chandlery then,” Squirrel replied thoughtfully. “Mailen’s shop offers everything you need and probably several things you didn’t even think of.”
“You know the shops,” S’lann gestured ahead to the hanging signs, most of them with symbols and pictures rather than written words. All had heavy doors, most open, though some had little gates like portcullis. Windows, also blocked by similar bars, allowed people to look but the openings were far too small to grab and run.
“Follow me then,” he replied and trotted off. The alley was far from crowded but the few shoppers went cloaked and hooded or masked and turbaned. It didn’t have the air of evil, more of people who just wanted to remain anonymous in their purchases, which in Thay, was likely the best course of action. Squirrel stepped to the door of another store and motioned for S’lann to follow.
Inside the spacious shop it was both cozy and clean, the walls adobe and shelved in wood with oil lamps fastened here and there. The room was brightly lit and there was no place to hide really, though a cloth-covered opening led to another area and was heavy and complete enough to prevent casual inspection. A woman stood within, straightening an arrangement of something with leather straps and metal fittings that S’lann wasn’t all that sure what it was for.
She turned and smiled pleasantly, it seemed, her bald head shaved clean all around except for along lock, braided and wound around her head like a cap. She wore a simple shift on top and several layers of skirts, all of them seeming to have seem better days, each a different color. “Mailen Many-Skirt, at your service sir,” she greeted him with a small smile and a slight bow.
“Ah Madame,” S’lann responded looking around, “I need to make some purchases of traveling supplies. My guide Squirrel here,” he gestured to the small human, “has brought me here for fair trade.”
“It was a good idea,” she replied frankly, “and I am welcome of the custom. Do you know what you need?”
“Well yes I have a list,” S’lann replied and offered her the folded parchment.
She took it and scanned it and biting her lips slightly said, “I believe I have all of this.” She looked up and took up a device of beads of various colors strung on a frame on several strings. With quick motions she moved beads from one side to the other and finally pronounced, “Fifteen Gold-lats, eight silver-des and three copper-alms for this all.”
S’lann figured in his head, remembering what they had discussed about the value of money and what he had. He reached into the small pouch tightly bound and pulled out on of the gems they had received from Yolen. He judged the worth of the amethyst at 20 gold and handed it to her. “I think this will cover the expenses of the items on the list, yes?”
She pulled out a loop and putting it to her eye, she examined the gem in the lamp light. In a moment she turned back with a smile and replied graciously, “Please allow me to pack your purchases for you.” She then set about pulling the items he had requested, adding several blocks of goat-butter and several packs of rice and grains for cooking, extra. She indicated the extras and said, “To even out the cost, to be fair.” All of these she gathered, plus several extra blocks of hard yellow and white cheeses dipped in wax and loaves of travel bread wrapped in oiled parchment.
S’lann in turn took the items and loaded them into his pack, hefting it after he loaded the significant amount of items, the bag bulging but definitely not too heavy to carry. “My thanks milady!” he told her and bowed with the pack.
She smiled coyly and covered her mouth, acting embarrassed. “If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to return.”
“I will remember,” S’lann replied and looked to Squirrel who promptly led the way back out.
At the end of the alley, after they had passed the doors, Squirrel stopped and held out his hand. “By my count you owe me two lats and four des, Seran.”
S’lann nodded, “Agreed.” He reached into his pouch and took out a few loose coins, giving Squirrel three golds. “Can you show me a decent place to sleep tonight?”
“Well that depends on whatcha want,” Squirrel explained dubiously. “Flea-infested, common room bedding, private room, suite, bath and meals included, laundry..” he shrugged. “You’ve got the coins, I know the good places.”
“Well then,” he temporized, “someplace neat, with decent food, a bath and a private room.” He thought about it a little longer, “’With a lock.”
“Ah!” Squirrel responded with a knowing grin,” The Pharoah’s Garden would be the place.”
“It sounds expensive,” S’lann replied dubiously.
“Once it was,” Squirrel replied with a wink, “but the last owner parted with his head for offending a Red Wizard and his nephew is an idiot. So the place cannot claim the coins it once did, though it does well enough. Ten percent again?”
S’lann nodded and grinned, starting to like him more than a little in spite of his greedy little self.
S’lann reflected on the journey and the people he’d seen. ‘Not met actually, just seen. The peasants of the area were surly and unfriendly. They greeted one another but they largely ignored strangers, giving them a wide berth on the road when possible or acting as if they really weren’t there.
He’d almost been run down by large carts twice.
And the drivers hadn’t even looked at him. That was both bothersome and worrisome, making him wonder how strangers/travelers would be treated in the city itself.
Now though, as he approached the gates of the western gate, the walls and gates itself gave him an impression of strength. The walls were several man-heights tall and appeared a few thick, with archers along the walls ready with crossbows and here and there, an archer with an actual bow.
Not good for a flier at all. He gulped a little at the thought, his imagination supplying the images of his winged form plummeting from the sky to thud into the unyielding earth like a clod of mud.
Splat.
He hunkered down, thinking that everyone was looking at him, trying to remain unnoticed. And it seemed his efforts were well-pain for he found himself entering the gate unchallenged, along with the press of carts and people heading in and out, farmers with wagons and people carrying goods upon their backs.
And he stepped into total turmoil and froze.
“Here sir,” one man called, nearly touching him, “see my fine rugs?”
“Fine lamps, fine lamps!” called another.
“Fresh fish, fish still swimming!”
“Geese, fat geese!”
“Fabric as soft as silk, cotton as fine as new skin!”
He darted into a dark alley, panting heavily, overcome with sounds, smells and the stares and chants of all those people trying to get his attention. It was overwhelming.
“What’s wrong with you?” a voice asked, slightly contemptuous.
In his panic S’lann hadn’t noticed that the alley might have someone in it. He started and looked over and then down, seeing a human-child probably younger than a decade.
”All those people- they were staring at me, trying to drag me around.”
“’Not from a city are you?” the kid asked, grimy, head shaved and dressed in layers of dirty ragged tunics to down to his/her knees and filthy bare feet.
“What makes you say that?” S’lann asked, proud he didn’t stutter or quaver.
Wordlessly the kid gestured out the mouth of the alley. “They’re *merchants*.” He replied, a little contemptuously. “They’re trying to get you to buy their wares. You didn’t know that so that means you’re not from anywhere where there’s markets like this. That means you’re not from a city.”
“You’re pretty bright,” S’lann replied, “I could use some help.”
“I can guide you and keep you outta trouble,” the kid replied, grinning gap-toothed, “for the right coin.”
“What do you want?”
“Five copper for the day and five percent of whatever purchases you make.” The kid grunted and grinned, “I can make sure nobody screws you in the market.”
S’lann, fearing the worst, looked at the kid with amazement. “You don’t look like you’re that tough.”
For his turn he cocked his head and decided his prospective client might be a simpleton. But, if he had the coin, he was going to work it out of him. “So, do we have a deal?”
S’lann gave it some thought, thinking about how much coin he had. “How about this: if you make sure I get the best prices and you keep me out of mischief, I’ll pay you a silver and ten percent of what I spend today? Deal?”
“I can live with that,” the kid told him. “’Name’s ‘Squirrel’.”
“Seran,” S’lann replied, having made up a name that sounded enough like his own he’d respond to it. People here tended to slur ‘r’ and ‘l’ sounds and Thayan Mulhorondi slurred hard sounds all over the place. “Where to?”
“Follow me,” Squirrel headed deeper into the alley and away from the screaming hawkers and beggars. He led a merry chase through alleys and across streets, using the ’dark ways’ of the city to avoid the eyes of the guards and merchants eager to push themselves on his client. He got the idea this ‘Seran’ was an escaped slave ~Prolly a lifer~ he thought to himself, watching the other move through the alleys like it was unfamiliar terrain. ~Bet he’s been in someone’s keep all his life and never been out once~ He shrugged to himself ~Sucks for him. He’s out now and got coin to burn and I intend to get a share of it~
It took them nearly two hours to get across the city, which frankly would have taken longer had they taken streets because of all the detours. They had had to cut through the government districts and the palace and the ‘under-roads’ had proven best, if smelly. ‘Seran’ hadn’t minded the smell at all, which seemed a bit odd for a household slave. Maybe he’d been a sewer-slave, someone down in the pits his whole life. But hear-tell those kinds die early from rot and disease and he seemed healthy enough, if a bit dim.
But his clothes were good and his weapons looked newish and of good quality and that spoke of either freedom won or things stolen. It was in his experience there weren’t too many generous options for slaves in this country so he was betting the latter.
They rounded a corner, passed through a door that hid the entrance to the alley and stepped into semi-gloom. The sky was visible above but only as a thin sliver as the roofs of the two buildings leaned together so that barely a few feet separated them, four stories above. The other end of the alley, cloaked in dimness, was also blocked off with a door that hid the contents of the alley and made it seem a private yard. Several of these enclaves dotted the city, if one knew where to look and had been given access to them, often having to pay a percentage for such access.
He gestured and announced proudly, “Glamour-alley. ‘Offers the best merchandise for the traveler who is both discerning and needs a quick purchase without many questions which,” he paused and winked at S’lann, “I think fits you. So, what do you need?”
S’lann took out the scrawled list they had made, a page from a journal and written with an ink-stick. “Pots, bowls, teapot, needles, fish hooks, grain-cubes, spices, dried fruit, cheese, soap, travel-bread.”
“’Chandlery then,” Squirrel replied thoughtfully. “Mailen’s shop offers everything you need and probably several things you didn’t even think of.”
“You know the shops,” S’lann gestured ahead to the hanging signs, most of them with symbols and pictures rather than written words. All had heavy doors, most open, though some had little gates like portcullis. Windows, also blocked by similar bars, allowed people to look but the openings were far too small to grab and run.
“Follow me then,” he replied and trotted off. The alley was far from crowded but the few shoppers went cloaked and hooded or masked and turbaned. It didn’t have the air of evil, more of people who just wanted to remain anonymous in their purchases, which in Thay, was likely the best course of action. Squirrel stepped to the door of another store and motioned for S’lann to follow.
Inside the spacious shop it was both cozy and clean, the walls adobe and shelved in wood with oil lamps fastened here and there. The room was brightly lit and there was no place to hide really, though a cloth-covered opening led to another area and was heavy and complete enough to prevent casual inspection. A woman stood within, straightening an arrangement of something with leather straps and metal fittings that S’lann wasn’t all that sure what it was for.
She turned and smiled pleasantly, it seemed, her bald head shaved clean all around except for along lock, braided and wound around her head like a cap. She wore a simple shift on top and several layers of skirts, all of them seeming to have seem better days, each a different color. “Mailen Many-Skirt, at your service sir,” she greeted him with a small smile and a slight bow.
“Ah Madame,” S’lann responded looking around, “I need to make some purchases of traveling supplies. My guide Squirrel here,” he gestured to the small human, “has brought me here for fair trade.”
“It was a good idea,” she replied frankly, “and I am welcome of the custom. Do you know what you need?”
“Well yes I have a list,” S’lann replied and offered her the folded parchment.
She took it and scanned it and biting her lips slightly said, “I believe I have all of this.” She looked up and took up a device of beads of various colors strung on a frame on several strings. With quick motions she moved beads from one side to the other and finally pronounced, “Fifteen Gold-lats, eight silver-des and three copper-alms for this all.”
S’lann figured in his head, remembering what they had discussed about the value of money and what he had. He reached into the small pouch tightly bound and pulled out on of the gems they had received from Yolen. He judged the worth of the amethyst at 20 gold and handed it to her. “I think this will cover the expenses of the items on the list, yes?”
She pulled out a loop and putting it to her eye, she examined the gem in the lamp light. In a moment she turned back with a smile and replied graciously, “Please allow me to pack your purchases for you.” She then set about pulling the items he had requested, adding several blocks of goat-butter and several packs of rice and grains for cooking, extra. She indicated the extras and said, “To even out the cost, to be fair.” All of these she gathered, plus several extra blocks of hard yellow and white cheeses dipped in wax and loaves of travel bread wrapped in oiled parchment.
S’lann in turn took the items and loaded them into his pack, hefting it after he loaded the significant amount of items, the bag bulging but definitely not too heavy to carry. “My thanks milady!” he told her and bowed with the pack.
She smiled coyly and covered her mouth, acting embarrassed. “If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to return.”
“I will remember,” S’lann replied and looked to Squirrel who promptly led the way back out.
At the end of the alley, after they had passed the doors, Squirrel stopped and held out his hand. “By my count you owe me two lats and four des, Seran.”
S’lann nodded, “Agreed.” He reached into his pouch and took out a few loose coins, giving Squirrel three golds. “Can you show me a decent place to sleep tonight?”
“Well that depends on whatcha want,” Squirrel explained dubiously. “Flea-infested, common room bedding, private room, suite, bath and meals included, laundry..” he shrugged. “You’ve got the coins, I know the good places.”
“Well then,” he temporized, “someplace neat, with decent food, a bath and a private room.” He thought about it a little longer, “’With a lock.”
“Ah!” Squirrel responded with a knowing grin,” The Pharoah’s Garden would be the place.”
“It sounds expensive,” S’lann replied dubiously.
“Once it was,” Squirrel replied with a wink, “but the last owner parted with his head for offending a Red Wizard and his nephew is an idiot. So the place cannot claim the coins it once did, though it does well enough. Ten percent again?”
S’lann nodded and grinned, starting to like him more than a little in spite of his greedy little self.