Gunnar stared at the road ahead as the old man's words rolled around in his head. Finally he shook his head and sighed heavily.
"Not really, Kerzi," Gunnar said softly. "The more you try to trap me, the better I can see the errors that I am making. You are right. I am running away, but not because I have done something wrong. There are people who want to kill me, and I have been forced to flee from my home and family in order to stay alive. As much as I would like to, I cannot take the chance of sharing my problem with anyone, even if I trust them."
"Even if you trust them?" frowned the merchant. "That is ridiculous. If you truly trust them, you can share anything with them."
"Not always," Gunnar shook his head. "There are ways of extracting information from people's minds without their permission. I cannot take the risk."
"It is sad to see you forced to bear such a burden alone," replied Kerzi, "but I believe you. Still, if you ever need someone to talk to, I will listen, and if you have not needlessly harmed anyone, I will never betray you. That is my promise, and I never break a promise."
Chapter 9 - Marketplaces
Marketplaces
As the wagon approached the gates of Koar, Gunnar's hand subconsciously rose to his face, and his fingers ran over the ten-day's growth of beard.
"Stop fiddling with it," advised Kerzi. "Do you really want to draw attention to your disguise?"
Gunnar turned to stare at the merchant and then realized what he had been doing. He lowered his hand to his lap and returned his attention to the guards manning the gate ahead.
"I am an old merchant, and you are my warrior," Kerzi continued. "Look the part, and they will not even think to question you. I will do the talking."
Kerzi had to halt the wagon while the guards inspected the wagon before him, but the wait was short. One of the guards waved Kerzi forward and the old man complied.
"Where are you bound for?" asked one of the guards while the other walked to the rear of the wagon and peered inside.
"The market," Kerzi answered. "I need some vegetables to take up north. Has somebody gone missing?"
"What?" the guard asked distractedly as he bent and peered under the wagon.
"I asked if someone had gone missing," repeated the merchant. "In all my years of coming to Koar, I don't recall a time when so much interest was shown towards an empty wagon."
The guard at the rear of the wagon walked away and indicated that he had no interest in the wagon. The guard near Kerzi nodded to his partner.
"You can go through now," stated the guard, pointedly ignoring the merchant's question. "Move along."
Kerzi shrugged indifferently and snapped the reins. As the wagon rolled into the city, Gunnar turned and saw the guards stopping the next wagon.
"I have never seen them do this before,"Gunnar remarked softly.
"I have once before," replied Kerzi. "Years ago, there was some deranged person that was spotted in the city. Supposedly the fellow had killed some members of the royal family in Tarent, and they practically shut down Koar in an attempt to find him."
"Did they find him?" asked Gunnar.
"I have no idea," shrugged the merchant. "For the most part I try to pay no attention to other people's problems. Sticking your nose where it don't belong can get you killed quicker than the bite from a Lom swamp snake."
"I'll try to remember that," Gunnar chuckled.
Kerzi guided the wagon on a circuitous path through the narrowest of streets in Koar as if he was intentionally avoiding the city center where most of the visitors, officials, and dignitaries would stay.
"Do you know where you are going?" Gunnar eventually asked.
"I've been here a thousand times," nodded the merchant.
"I have a fair idea where the market is in Koar," retorted Gunnar, "and your route appears to be rather erratic, if that is where you are heading."
"We'll get there," Kerzi responded. "I don't care much for the centers of cities. The folks that inhabit those districts would feel unclean after having had to gaze upon the likes of me. I try to avoid them as a courtesy."
"I take it that you have had some unpleasant experiences with the highbrow society types?" Gunnar asked knowingly.
"I have," nodded the merchant. "You are turning out to be more perceptive than I thought."
"Tell me about it," urged Gunnar.
"Let's talk about something else," suggested Kerzi.
Gunnar laughed heartily, and the merchant shook his head disdainfully, but a hint of a smile played across the old man's lips. The wagon rolled on through the narrow streets without further discussion, and it eventually pulled alongside the fringe of a huge open market. The merchant stopped the wagon and applied the brake.
"I am going to secure a load of vegetables," Kerzi said as he climbed off the wagon. "You can roam the market if you like, but be ready in about an hour to help me load up."
Without waiting for a response, the old man turned and walked away. Gunnar jumped from the wagon and adjusted his sword as his eyes swept across the enormous marketplace.
The market in Koar was one of the largest in the world. A wide-open area spread almost as far as one could see, and it was crowded with people wandering around the carts and stands that were erected every day. Around the periphery of the open market were permanent stalls that dealt mostly in staples and bulk commodities. Those permanent stalls were where the merchant would head to find a load of vegetables. Gunnar was more interested in the open carts where individuals and lesser merchants would sell their wares.
Gunnar was not looking for anything in particular, but he always enjoyed the walk through a market. Not only could one find the most curious objects for sale, but also watching the peoples of different nations mix together was interesting. The warrior gazed up at the sun to gauge the time and then waded into the crowd.
Gunnar did not spend much time looking at things to buy, as he had no desire to cart anything around the world with him, but a gold necklace caught his eye. An exquisitely carved unicorn's head hung from a flawless chain, and Gunnar immediately thought how much his sister would enjoy it. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized that he might never see her again. He quickly turned and strode away from the stall to put the necklace far behind him.
As Gunnar moved quickly through the marketplace, his mind was no longer on the merchandise for sale, nor did he bother to gaze upon the people around him. Instead he wandered aimlessly wondering how he would ever be able to regain a normal life.
In the very center of the marketplace was a large fountain with a ring of statues around it. The tall statues were depictions of past rulers of the city, and they formed a plaza where people congregated to rest from shopping or just sit and talk. The bases of the statues also served as notice boards where the government posted items of importance for the public to read. What caught Gunnar's attention was the huge crowd of people gathered around the statues. Loud voices drifted on the air and there was a feeling of excitement to them. Gunnar wandered over to see what the commotion was about.
Even before he reached the nearest statue, he knew from the shouting that one of the notices involved a recruitment effort for the Borundan army. Gunnar wormed his way through the crowd until he could see the posters on the base of the statue. He read the recruitment poster and his heart sank.
For all the trouble Arin was going through to quietly increase the size of its army, Borunda had no qualms about openly advertising for new recruits. The poster called for all able-bodied men to present themselves to the army for potential openings. There was no language on the poster that even hinted at any selection criteria, and Gunnar realized that Borunda was planning to increase its army immensely. War was most definitely on the horizon for the Land of the Nine Kingdoms.
Gunnar was about to turn and leave when he saw the wanted posters. There were several hand drawn pictures of people that the Crown was searching for, but it was his own likeness that caught his eye. Terror raced down his spine as his ey
es scanned the other pictures to see if any other member of his family was depicted. Somewhat relieved that he was the only member of the Arin royal family whose picture was posted, Gunnar turned and fled.
The warrior ran through the marketplace, dodging shoppers and carts as he raced towards the merchant's wagon. When he neared the wagon, he saw that Kerzi had already returned. He slowed to a walk and tried to appear casual. Kerzi saw him coming and walked a few steps away from the wagon to meet him.
"We may have to spend the night at an inn," the old man said.
"Why?" Gunnar asked with concern. "If no one is available to help load the wagon, I will do it all myself. Just show me where the vegetables are."
"That's the problem," frowned Kerzi. "There are no vegetables for sale in Koar, at least no appreciable amount of them. I've hauled vegetables up to Oran for decades, and I have never seen anything like this."
Gunnar's mind raced. He wanted to leave the city as soon as possible, but he knew that the merchant would not leave without cargo. He tried to remember the times he had been in Oran, and what product might be saleable up there. Finally he smiled.
"Let's buy some fish," he suggested.
"Fish?" frowned Kerzi. "What in the world would we do with fish? Our next stop is Oran, and the horse people never eat fish."
"They don't eat fish because it is unavailable to them," replied Gunnar. "If you take them fish, they will eat it. You must trust me on this, Kerzi."
"Trust you?" frowned the merchant. "You, who will not trust me, are demanding that I trust you and stake my entire fortune on a load of fish with the hopes that the horse people will learn to like it?"
"Yes," Gunnar replied. "I guarantee you will turn a profit. Will you trust me?"
The merchant stared at Gunnar as if the lad had lost his mind. He shook his head slowly, and his lips pressed tightly together as if weighing a heavy decision. His eyes drifted up to the sweat beading up on the warrior's brow.
"You're in some kind of trouble here, aren't you?" Kerzi asked softly. "Tell me the truth, lad."
"I saw my picture posted on the statues," Gunnar confessed after only a short pause. "I have to get out of this city today. I cannot spend the night here. They will kill me."
Kerzi nodded slowly and pointed to the wagon.
"Get in the back," ordered the merchant. "I just happen to know where some fish are for sale."
Gunnar paused only long enough to embrace the merchant before dashing to the wagon and climbing into the back. Kerzi walked quickly to the wagon, climbed onto the seat, and released the brake. He whipped the reins and the team immediately started the wagon rolling.
"When we load the fish," Kerzi instructed the warrior, "you will say nothing. Act like a mute boy if you must, but I will not have these merchants knowing that I am taking fish to Oran. I do have at least a small reputation to uphold, and I will not be made into an object of amusement for others."
The ride to the fish merchant was short, and Kerzi went inside to haggle over price. Within minutes, men were hauling out barrels and handing them up to Gunnar. The warrior soundlessly took the barrels and stacked them in the wagon. In less than an hour, Kerzi was guiding the team towards the northern gates of Koar with Gunnar sitting by his side. Neither man spoke as the gate guards inspected the wagon and waved it through.
"I can never thank you enough," Gunnar sighed with relief as the walls of Koar faded behind them.
"You may get the chance to repay me rather soon," frowned the merchant. "Every gold coin I own is riding in the barrels behind us. When the fish rots and we have to bury the barrels to get rid of them, you can sit on a corner in Oran with a beggar's cup so we can earn enough money to buy some grain to take to Caxon."
"I said that we would sell the fish in Oran," retorted Gunnar. "Do you not believe me?"
"I believe in you, lad," answered the merchant, "but that does not mean that I believe in what you are saying. I do not suspect you of lying, but I know the horse people, and they do not eat fish. We may be able to dump some of the barrels in the public market, but I doubt that we will get a tenth of what I paid for it."
"You truly believe that and yet you bought the fish anyway?" questioned Gunnar. "Why?"
"A man is worth more than gold," shrugged Kerzi. "There might have been other commodities that I could have gambled on for the trip to Oran, but the market was close to closing. It was doubtful that we could have loaded the wagon with anything other than fish."
"Why were we able to get the fish then?" inquired Gunnar.
"Fish in Koar is a local commodity," explained Kerzi. "They don't export it as most other cities are seaports as well, so they usually only sell to the shops of Koar and seldom have wagons to load."
"So it had nothing to do with my recommendation then?" asked Gunnar. "You just bought the fish because it was available quickly."
"That's not fair, lad," the merchant replied.
"Perhaps," frowned Gunnar, "but it is accurate. You threw your gold away to save my life. Filling the wagon with fish ensured that we would have no trouble at the gates when we left the city, but you really don't think we can sell it in Oran."
"We will try," brightened the old man. "There was a time when I could sell wine to a Vinelander. We'll manage to get rid of some of the fish. At least we will not starve as long as we have it," he added with a laugh.
* * *
Odessia was the land of the horse people. The country was home to a vast desert between the cities of Oran and Laborg, except for the very center. In the middle of the huge desert was a miracle of nature, a large area where natural springs irrigated the soil and gave birth to the richest fields of grain in the world. It was in the center of the fields of grain where the Odessians had built the city of Natura, and where they raised the finest horses in the world.
Few foreigners had ever been to Natura, and the Odessians had built a second city on the border of Arin along the river. That city, Oran, was the public face of Odessia for people from other countries. The city had started out as a small trading post on the banks of the river. Over the centuries it had grown larger and larger until it became one of the world's important cities. It sat on one of the major roads connecting the kingdom of Borunda with the kingdoms of Caroom and Salacia. The city itself was a series of concentric walls, each wall representing a period of expansion over the years.
Kerzi guided the wagon through the streets of Oran in a similar fashion to how he maneuvered through Koar. He avoided the city center where the palace and the fancy inns were situated and worked his way through narrow alleys until he came to the edge of the marketplace.
"Why don't you go see if you can find a stall to buy a beggar's cup?" winked Kerzi as he climbed down from the seat. "I will try to find a fool to take this fish off our hands."
Gunnar started to object, but the old man was already on his way. Gunnar shrugged and jumped off the wagon. He strolled into the marketplace and immediately sought out the public postings. While there was little chance of his picture being displayed in Odessia, he had to be sure before he could breathe easily. The marketplace was only a fraction of the size of the one in Koar, and he found the postings without difficulty. For several minutes he scanned all of the notices, even the ones that were old and faded. Satisfied that there was no likeness of his face among the postings, Gunnar turned and began browsing the stalls.
Gunnar stopped at a stall that sold writing instruments. His eyes fell upon an intricately carved wooden box that held a pen, a bottle of ink, a flat of sealing wax, and a sheath of small slips of paper. He envisioned writing a note to his family and wondered if it would be wise to even consider such a thing.
"For thirty gold you could own such a fine set," grinned the merchant.
"Thirty gold?" balked Gunnar. "What do I look like? A prince?"
"I suppose not," chuckled the merchant. "If I offended you, I will make it right. I will give you the set for only fifteen gold, and you will no longer be angry with me f
or mistaking you for a prince."
“It is understandable that you have mistaken me for a prince," Gunnar grinned as he fell naturally into the Odessian mode of bargaining. "I had mistaken you for an honest merchant charging a fair price."
"You slight me!" the merchant replied with mock offense. "Would you force me to sell you this fine, hand-carved box for only ten gold just to prove my honesty?"
"If the box was hand carved by the son of Prince Umal," countered Gunnar, "it would be well worth five gold."
"But Prince Umal is not even married yet," scowled the merchant.
"Then two gold is a reasonable price for its artistic value," smiled Gunnar as his fingers slid under his clothes and snared some coins from his hidden pouch.
"You are a thief!" balked the merchant. "I should call the guards and have you arrested. I will demand that you not be released until you buy the box for four gold."
"Three gold," countered Gunnar, "and that is only because the artist has potential and may someday amount to something."
"It is a deal," grinned the merchant as he took the set and wrapped it in paper. "Do you see anything else that you like?"
"Not at this time," smiled Gunnar as he took the parcel from the merchant and handed him three gold coins, "but I look forward to haggling with you in the future."
"You drive a hard bargain, friend," smiled the merchant. "I will not be so easy when next you come."
Gunnar waved to the merchant as he strode away. He felt good that he had bargained well, but he also realized that the merchant had made him buy something that he was not sure he had even wanted. Gunnar was laughing to himself when he arrived back at the wagon.
"As I thought," Kerzi greeted him with a sad smile, "there is no market for the fish. What have you bought?"
Gunnar unwrapped the box and handed it to Kerzi. The old man opened the box and nodded approvingly.
"Do you know how to write?" he asked.
"I don't know," Gunnar smiled. "Let me try it and see."
Kerzi shook his head and handed the box back to the warrior.
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