As the Gardenia floated along the river toward her assigned dock the companions were all amazed to take in the size of Verat City. They passed docked house boats which were tiny and looked as if the people were very poor but other house boats would be enormous – nearly the size of the barges. These large one were often well appointed and looked like floating mansions for the very wealthy. Occasionally they would pass docks where all of the houseboats would be very highly decorated and painted with bright colours. “River Gypsies,” Captain Tarian said so everyone could hear him. “Those are River Gypsy neighbourhoods. Usually, a whole tribe of ‘em living with all their boats gathered together around a dock or even several docks. They love the boats which are their houses so they paint them up like that and they keep everything real clean. Cleanest people on the river. But a word of warning; be careful doing business with them, they don’t lie to you or cheat you but they are real good at getting the best out of a deal.”
About an hour before sundown the Gardenia docked at her assigned location which was near a River Gypsy neighbourhood. Captain Tarian pointed out a couple of floating inns and taverns nearby where the companions could buy meals or a room for the night. He also suggested that the dragons be really careful and that if they were going to be dipping over the side to go fish they should make it after dark and before dawn so that nobody sees that they are not dogs, birds and horses. Green Eyes seemed very excited and intrigue by the new surroundings and she flew around over the boats scolding and calling. This worried Cyerant who was concerned about what they would do if Green Eyes decided to start biting people.
Cyerant turned to the captain and asked. “Captain, are you going to be staying in Verat City or returning upriver?”
“Oh, we’re going to pick up a few goods that we can take back upriver with us and Go about half way back to Deelt and winter over in a city there where my brother has an inn. I expect it will take me about a week to get the goods together that I want to take back with me. I can get some goods here that are useful to inns and to my brother at a price far better than he would pay where he is.”
Veer asked. “How do you get the boat back up against the current of the river?”
“We use oars and row,” answered Dalnt.
“There’s no way that three people can row the Gardenia back against the river,” said Shira.
“No there isn’t, said Tarian. “But every one of those barges that came down the river had a couple of men managing them, steering and what have you. Well they just got paid and they’ll be wanting to go home. So once I have my goods then I will get two banks of oarsmen and the cost of passage back up river is that they row. That way I get back up river a good piece and they get to go home. The rowing is not so hard since this is the slowest that the river flows all year after a hot summer. It is also cooler in the day so we can row pretty steady.”
“That is a good arrangement for all involved then Captain,” said Myalnar.
Captain Tarian nodded. “Yes that’s how things work on the river.”
“Captain Tarian?” Jolss asked. “Can you tell me where I would find the mage tower in this city?”
“Yes, yes I can. Actually I’ll show you since I have to drop of some things for Partonius. Except that I have to go there straight away but it really isn’t more than a twenty minute walk from here.”
Jolss looked excited. “I’ll get my books and everything together.” The boy turned to go grab his things when he was halted by a voice.
“I don’t know if you should go there this late in the day,” said Cyerant. “Perhaps we should wait and try to have you meet them another day.”
“Nonsense,” Jolss said sounding just like a youthful echo of the old mage Partonius. “Tomorrow you are going to want to try and see the King, Veer has a message for him and Myalnar needs to see him. If I wait until after you have all seen the king it could be days before I am able to go meet the mages.”
Cyerant nodded and said. “Alright, then I am going with you.”
Captain Tarian retrieved a satchel of documents from beneath the deck and had Cralnar retrieve a small wooden box which was just small enough that one man could carry it comfortably. “Well,” said Tarian. “If we’re going, we need to be off now.” The captain stepped onto the dock followed by Cralnar.
Within moments Jolss had grabbed his things and tucked them into his satchel and his pack and was scrambling to catch the two sailors. Prin fluttered in the air just over the boy but staying with him as he walked along.
Cyerant stepped onto the dock behind his younger brother and as he did so he sent a mental request to Corth. The young noble asked Corth to stay behind and keep an eye on the other dragons. Cyerant felt a wave of wariness come to him through the bond but the dragon stayed.
Nineteen
Captain Barroon stood in his boat waiting patiently for the dockmaster’s boat to meet him. Barroon had seen the small boat moving along among the river traffic and he knew that this meant there were busy docks ahead. These foreigners might be barbarians but some things never change. Busy docks and docking fees were the same everywhere one travels. Weeks had passed since the battle on the river and Barroon and his remaining half dozen men had simply followed the larger boat with its cargo of elves and dragons. It had been easy enough to stop in the little river towns along the way for supplies as needed.
Finally it was Barroon’s turn to be visited by the dockmaster. After a brief conversation Barroon paid the docking fees. He also paid a little extra to insure that he knew where the boat with the hooded monks and the dogs and horses had been assigned to dock. The dockmaster had remembered that boat because it had seemed so odd. Barroon ended up getting assigned to dock his boat near but not too near the Gardenia. He paid the docking fees for a few weeks in advance. Soon Barroon and his crew were on their way with a little painted wooden tag hanging from the prow of their boat. The wooden tag had the colour and number of their docking location along with the amount of time for which their docking fees had been paid.
Barroon stood in his boat as the city finally came into view and he was somewhat impressed with the barbarians. This city would even be considered a fair sized city back home in the Empire. As he took the branch of the river which would bring him toward the dock assignment, the expansive docks came into view and he started to see the size of the floating city of boats. Barroon could see brightly painted gypsy boats and he felt an odd tug deep inside. He saw that the gypsy boats were often docked together and the colours showed that each group was the same tribe. He even recognized some of the tribal colour combinations. He wondered if these tribes had once been connected to the tribes back home. Somewhere deep inside of the hardened officer a boy who had been named Gileesh Ooka stirred at the familiar sights.
Soon Barroon had found his dock and secured his boat. Next he sent his men to a nearby floating inn for a hot meal while he walked the docks to sneak around and get a look at the boat that he had followed for the last month. As he walked along he passed through an area where a gypsy tribe was docked and saw that all of the boats had the same familiar colour scheme has the boats of the Gileesh Tribe back home had used for many centuries. It felt odd to walk among boats which looked like his childhood memories. As he passed the strangely familiar gypsy boats he heard snippets of conversation and occasionally he heard one of the older folk use the gypsy language. It sounded odd with a strange accent and a few words the he couldn’t quite understand but he was able to understand most of what he heard.
At one point he saw an elderly gypsy woman stepping out of a boat onto the dock ahead of him and as she looked up the instincts of a little gypsy boy long ago took over and he gave the traditional deep nod of the head in respect and showed his two empty hands in the traditional greeting of peace. The woman gave the slight nod of the elder in the exchange and she too showed her hands though in one she was carrying a basket. Then the woman walked passed Barroon who then shook of the feeling and began to move forward only to have a
gypsy boy of about eight summers run right into him. The boy looked up at the man and saw the familiar features and clearly expected to get scolded. Barroon asked the boy. “Whose are you?’
Gileesh Goontan…. Sorry.”
“Well Goontan, it is bad luck to run when there is water beneath the boards.”
“Yes, Umba,” the boy responded using the traditional title of respect to an elder as he bowed his head.
Barroon stood looking at the boy for a moment and then he nodded and said. “Walk, in a peaceful evening.”
The boy said. “Thank you Umba, a peaceful evening to you too.” Then the boy walked passed Barroon and within a few moments the man could hear the boy begin to run again and then he heard an elderly female voice call in the gypsy tongue scolding the boy for running.
Barron stood still on the dock listening to the activity in the gypsy camp floating around him. He was a bit shocked to know that he was standing here surrounded by boats of the Gileesh Tribe and to realize that this ancient tribe was represented in these barbarian lands so far away from the civilization of the Empire. The same tribe as Ooka had been born into long ago. Barroon took a deep breath and sighed away the odd feelings and continued on his way to scout the boat that he had followed for so long.
*****
Cyerant and Jolss had caught up with Captain Tarian and Cralnar and soon they were walking up the steps which led from the docks to the city proper on the stone thirty feet above. Once Jolss had stopped running Prin was able to settle on his shoulder and she now rode along looking to everyone else like an exotic pet bird. As the four reached the top of the stairs and stepped out onto the streets of Verat City, Jolss was shocked. Deelt had struck him as being enormous and packed with humanity but it did not compare at all to what the boy saw before him. Verat City was milling with people and activity the sound alone was overwhelming. It was like the din of a beehive, if the bees were the size of people, there was the sound of many feet and conversations punctuated with yells and shouts from the market stills and walking merchants and in the distance the constant sound of smiths hammering and so many other sounds which could not be identified.
There were the smells of the city late in the day and they too were like the smells of Deelt but so many more and so much more concentrated. There were the smells of suppers being prepared and the stench of a day of waste poured into the streets. At least this city had gutters to direct the flow of waste outward and the rains would wash these gutters from time to time. There was also just the thick muskiness that comes late in the afternoon when thousands of people have been moving and working all day. Yes, a city stinks in the late afternoon and evening. After the people settle in for the night the breezes will clear the air to prepare for the next day but right at that moment the city smelled very powerfully.
The streets were filled with workmen and women finishing up for the day and walking along carrying their tools, and ladders and buckets or pushing carts before them. The market stalls were being packed up and some shops were closing up for the evening while the taverns and public houses were starting to fill up with patrons. The city was like a giant living beast that had finished with a hard day of work but was not yet ready to roll over and go to sleep so it prepared for supper and to drink and gamble and play music. In other areas where there were rows of buildings where people lived, children were being called in for the evening and people were going inside to their suppers. Some of the buildings were made of brick and some of wood and in the residential areas the streets were narrow and the alleys already very dark. Some of the buildings looked almost ready to fall while others looked brand new. It was an odd mix and every new corner or cross street brought and new sights and new smells and new sounds. Some of the buildings were as tall as seven floors and they had stairways hanging on the sides of the walls. Jolss couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live in a building where you had to walk up seven flights of stairs to get home.
Captain Tarian spoke. “This is called New Verat or the Outer City. It was built up by sheer happenstance so streets just start and stop without any sense. All kinds of shops and buildings are stuck in together. The ground floor of the taller buildings are given over to businesses and shops while the first floor up is usually where you find the apartments for the business merchants who own the shops and the next four floors up are given over to apartments that people pay rents to use as houses. The public wells are fed by aqueducts which bring water in from the melting ice and snows on a small mountain range a couple of days ride away. Some of the buildings actually have water brought right into them by the water works system. Each night they run the water out into the gutters to flush them out into the sewers and then on into the river. Most of the buildings even have gardens on their roofs which help to keep them a little cooler in the summer and grow a bit of food for the folk here. There’s no other place like it anywhere in the kingdom maybe even the whole world.”
“I never imagined that it could be so big,” said Jolss.
“Nobody ever does, not until they see it.” The Captain said.
After a quarter of an hour walk through the jumble of the New City the four reached a very ancient stone wall with a gate standing open ahead of them. Tarian said. “This’ll be the Old City inside these walls. This was the original Verat City which was really a fortified town with walls all the way around it. Things have been peaceful now for centuries and the city has grown to cover the island and half of the river. This is what the city looked like a long time ago. The gates stay open and people come and go as they please.”
As they entered the Old City the character of the buildings changed and there were no longer ramshackle wooden structures. The streets were wider, orderly and all of the buildings were of stone. The alleys between the buildings were larger and less shadowy. The stone of the buildings looked very old and the structures looked like they could stand for a thousand years – maybe they had stood for a thousand years. Old City did not seem to be as crowded with people and the streets looked cleaner.
After another five min of walking Captain Tarian stopped and pointed to a building and said. “There it is.”
Cyerant and Jolss looked at the building and were amazed. There was a stone gate and a wall around the grounds just like the tower in Deelt. But this tower was enormous compared to the one in Deelt. Carved into the stone gateway was ‘Tower of the Brotherhood of the Mages of Verat’ in large imposing block letters. This tower was fifteen floors high and it looked as if it could house hundreds of people. After allowing a moment for Cyerant and Jolss to take the sight in Captain Tarian led them through the open gateway and right up to an imposing set of doors. The captain used the heavy door knocker which was hanging from the mouth of some mythical beast cast into brass.
A few moments later and the door began to open and an elderly gentleman dressed as a servant appeared. “Tarian, so nice to see you. I suppose that you have brought some things for the Magister. Come in, come in. Ah, I see that you have friends. Well all of you come in.”
The man showed them into a large foyer and then into a small sitting room off to the side. “Please wait here and I will inform the Magister.”
“Thank you very much Aldan.” Said Captain Tarian as the man glided from the room.
“Amazing,” said Jolss.
“Yes the Tower of Verat is very big. They say that it once housed the hundred most powerful mages in the kingdom along with their apprentices and servants. Now there are three old men and an old woman and a few servants to take care of them. And no apprentices any more.”
“Old woman?” Asked a female voice. Everyone turned to see a tall lady walking into the room and she appeared to be as ancient as the walls. But she still moved with surety and her eyes sparkled with a great intellect.
“Sorry Magister,” said Tarian as he bowed slightly.
The woman chuckled. “It’s true, I’ve seen the mirrors. Some say that I’m old enough to remember when the first stone was placed for the
walls. Can’t fault a man for honesty.”
“No Magister,” said Tarian.
“Ah yes, I see that you have brought some things for us from upriver.” The woman said as she motioned Cralnar to bring the wooden box over and place it on a table. “Partonius and Dratarion are as mad as magpies but they are good scholars and send wonderful things for us to study.”
“Dratarion is dead Magister,” Said Tarian.
The woman paused and a flicker of sadness crossed her face. “That is sad news, he was the best scholar concerning dragon lore and magic though he had some strange theories. Partonius must be beside himself with grief.”
“Partonius has found some things to occupy his time. He has restored the Tower of Deelt and has a large group of new apprentices to train.” Said Tarian.
“To train?” Asked the woman. “To train in what?”
“In magic,” Answered Tarian.
“Magic!” Said the woman. “My gods Partonius has finally lost his hold on sanity.”
“Partonius lost his hold on sanity years ago Tornissa.” Said a new voice that belonged to a man who was walking into the room followed by two more men. The three newcomers looked to be as old as the woman. The man who was speaking jingled as he walked because he had tiny bells tied into his beard and long hair and they jingled lightly with every step. “He and Dratarion…’
“Dratarion has died,” said the old woman silencing the newcomer with a glare. “And Partonius has sent something in this box.” She motioned toward the box that Cralnar had placed on the table. “And a man who wears bells should never make observation concerning the sanity of others, Carabice.” One of the other two men chuckled slightly as he took a nearby chair.
Tarian spoke. “Magister Tornissa… there is something of great importance; far more importance than that which is in the box.”
The woman stopped and looked at the Captain and asked. “And what would that be?”
Dragons of Summer Tide (The Dragons of Hwandor) Page 37