by Bob Blink
On the corner of the cross street he was on and the main market street was a tavern. It was closed this time of day, but the look was universal, and Jolan was certain in his assessment. An upscale establishment to be sure, but definitely a place for a little social drinking. As he continued down the street he came next to a candlemaker’s shop, and suddenly curious stepped inside. Most of the stock being offered were standard utility candles, not surprising since everyone here needed candles for light at night. There was a special section that offered a range of decorative candles and those that produced a variety of scents when lit. Just like back home, Jolan found the scents of these perfumed candles noxious, and soon left, his curiosity satisfied.
Next came a clothing store, this one catering exclusively to women, with a variety of dresses and blouses on display, and one wall filled with bolts of cloth. From the equipment in the back of the shop, and the two women hard at work, Jolan concluded that rather than selling the materials, the stock was used to make clothing to order. One woman was looking over the finished goods being offered, with that universal “I’m only looking” attitude common of shoppers back home.
He was unable to pass by the next shop. It was a bakery, and having skipped breakfast the tantalizing smell of fresh bread was just too inviting. The two people working inside were obviously a man and wife couple, and while the woman tended the counters and arranged the freshly baked items still coming from in back, her baker husband was busy preparing yet another batch of dough for the next round of baking he had planned. Jolan tried a ringed pastry that looked very much like a croissant except for the shape, as well as a couple of purple-berry muffins. He paid for his selections, and continued his munching on the delightful treats as he resumed walking down the street. Warm and fresh, they were among the best he’d ever tasted.
He passed a shop that offered jewelry, another that had a couple of paintings in the window, and then a cobbler. Inside he could see the owner working on a pair of boots. He stopped for a minute and turned his attention to the street. It was busy with shoppers. Most were dressed well in the local colorful fashion, but here and there he saw someone dressed in more rugged clothing, and a couple of street urchins whose attire was closer to rags. He also noticed at least one sharp-eyed youth, who seemed to watch the crowd while ambling on his way down the street. So, one needed to have care here as well. Crime was universal, and he suspected the unwary shopper could easily lose his coin. Alerted, he looked carefully up and down the street, and finally discovered a pair of uniformed patrolmen making their way in his direction, coming down the street from the direction he was currently heading.
Having finished his impromptu breakfast, Jolan continued his walk, and turned into a men’s clothing store a few buildings further on. The bright colors in vogue here weren’t really his type of clothing, especially the colorful pants, but he would be meeting with some important people shortly, at least he hoped so. In addition, he felt it better he didn’t stand out. An hour later, with the help of the salesman, he had purchased a complete outfit with a couple of spare shirts, all of which had been altered to fit while he waited. His older clothing and the spare items he wasn’t wearing would be delivered to the inn for him, free of charge.
The next place that caught his attention was a print shop. He was a bit surprised to find such an establishment, and turned in to investigate. The books offered were all hand scribed editions, done by the employees of the store. Jolan could see a team of half a dozen working in the back. The prices were high, volumes costing more than his horse. Looking around, Jolan determined that the bulk of the store’s business was the creation of flyers, formal invitations, wedding announcements and the like. The proprietor was also a bit of a fledgling newspaperman, as there was a single page newsletter posted to one wall near the entrance, and he would later see copies posted at numerous locations around the street.
Continuing his explorations, Jolan found a very upscale eatery, and from the prices posted he doubted they would find the opportunity to sample the offerings. There was a leather shop and a cooperage, although in addition to the casks, the store offered a selection of fine decorative boxes as well as carefully hand built storage chests.
Deciding he’d walked far enough for now, and uncertain how long before Asari might return, Jolan crossed the street and started back the way he had come. The first shop he passed was a furniture shop, with a number of pieces of furniture on display. The store offered canes and walking sticks, and a number of wooden items he didn’t know the use for. Surprising himself, he turned and went in.
Uncertain exactly what had prompted his decision to enter, Jolan walked around looking over the offerings, and before long found himself standing by a box that held a number of canes, walking sticks, and a couple of long wooden staffs. He could remember reading that a man properly trained with a staff was a surprisingly tough adversary, and the added reach of the staff would often keep him out of reach of a sword. The training he’d had with his own sword had convinced him that he was never going to be a very capable fighter, and wondered what it would be like to try a staff.
“May I help you?” asked a voice behind him.
They can always sense it, Jolan thought wryly. “I was looking at your staffs,” he replied.
“I see,” the man said. “We have a couple here that are quite nice. There are several that are simple walking staffs, and then we have a selection of staffs with hardened wood and metal bindings that have been made specifically for defense. What kind of staff are you seeking?”
“I wasn’t really seeking. The idea just came to me. I’ve decided that I’m never going to be very capable with a sword, and I’ve been doing a bit of traveling of late.”
“Oh, well then. A defensive staff. Here, try this one.” He handed Jolan a long staff made of a very dark wood. It had roughened spots where his hands would hold it while fighting, and solid metal fittings on both ends, the top being an enlarged irregular ball.
It felt comfortable enough, but then what did he know about how it was supposed to feel. The man could sense his uncertainty, and handed him another. Once again, there was nothing that said this offering was right. He was starting to feel silly. He should get some advice and learn what to look for before he went impulsively buying.
For something to say he asked, “What does this cost?”
No salesman can simply answer a question. After a bit of a sales pitch on the virtues of the item he held, along with its pedigree and the location where the wood was grown, the man finally added that it would run a half gold.
“Damn!” Jolan thought. No way he was going to drop that much on a whim. He handed the staff back, and noted an older looking staff in with some others that looked used. He reached over and grabbed it out of the bin.
The wooden staff he held was obviously old and had seen some hard service. The wood was gray with long veins of grain running along the shaft. The top was a large bulb that had been worn smooth, while the bottom end ended in a small almost circular flat about and inch and a half in diameter. Unlike the fancy staffs he’d been holding moments before, there were no fancy metal fittings, or any of the inlaid patterns that made them so attractive. Three small shallow indentations, seemingly equally spaced around the circumference of the shaft could be felt, though barely seen just above where the worn wood showed the hands would normally rest. There was a split in the top end that extended through the bulb and about a quarter of the way down the shaft, and looked like it passed more than halfway through the wood. Jolan squeezed and flexed the wood to test the integrity, but could feel no give in the wood. Surprisingly he couldn’t feel any sharp edges along the shaft or around the top where the split wood revealed the gap. He felt silly, but it felt right in his hands.
“How much for this one?”
The man looked pained and with a shake of his head said, “You don’t want that piece of junk. We got it as part of a consignment some time back. I keep meaning to toss it out. It doesn’t eve
n belong in the store with these other items. You can see it’s old, and look, it already has a large crack. It’ll probably break the first time you need it. You really would be better off with one of these newer models. If the ones we have been looking at are too pricey, I have some others in back.”
Jolan shook his head. He wanted this one. After running the staff down, the man was hard put to ask more than a pittance, and shortly afterwards Jolan was on his way down the street, the new staff feeling odd in his hand. Hey, if nothing else it would do as a walking stick. Somehow he was certain their days of walking hadn’t really ended. If it turned out he didn’t like it, he wasn’t out much, and if a staff seemed to fit him, he could always upgrade later.
He was moving faster now, concerned his wandering had used up more time than it should. Asari could be back and waiting for him. He passed another tavern, and another eating place, this one looking as if it did a brisk business and with prices more to his liking. He stopped momentarily in front of a leather store. He was sorely tempted to go in and see about having a custom made holster for the pistol. He was concerned that meant showing the gun, perhaps even allowing the leatherworker to have access to it, and in truth he wasn’t sure what design constituted a good holster. Something for the belt probably, but he knew that there were dozens of designs back home, and that each had its supporters and detractors. A shoulder holster had some advantages, but with a gun that big? Concealment was less of an issue than ease of carry, but having it go unnoticed was worth something as well. In the end, the time concern, plus the fact the pouch had performed reasonably well caused Jolan to turn away and continue down the street.
He passed another jeweler, a couple of clothing stores, and got stopped at a watchmaker. Unlike his friend, he had no ability to determine the time of day from the position of the sun or other subliminal clues, and had sorely missed having a means of telling time. Inside he looked over the selection offered and finally gave in and bought a medium priced pocket watch, as there were no wrist watches to be had. He wondered if he could start a new trend if he showed this man his old watch that was still inside the Mage’s Box back at the inn.
After leaving the store he hurried back to the inn. He had spent most of the morning here, and he knew that Asari must be wondering where he’d gone.
Sure enough, Asari was waiting in the room with a look of concern on his face. It took Jolan a moment to realize the concern was for something other than the fact he hadn’t been here waiting.
“What’s the matter?” he asked belatedly.
“My uncle’s not here.” Asari answered. “He’s gone on summer holiday and may not be back for a month.”
* * * *
After talking over the situation the two friends agreed their options were pretty limited. They couldn’t very well head off to his uncle’s place in Bandu, even if they could get suitable directions. The trip would take a couple of weeks, and the most likely outcome would be for them to pass his uncle unknowingly on the way, only to arrive and find he was no longer in residence. The best option was for them to stay put, see what they could learn, and wait for his return. In the meantime, Asari wanted to try and locate some of his old friends, and see what advice or help they might be able to offer. At the moment, he was unable to think of any way other than his uncle that they would be able to obtain an audience with anyone in Parliament. Having time on his hands, Jolan indicated he wanted to continue his familiarization with the city. He also wanted to try and find someone to continue his training in combative skills, see if he could locate a mage who knew more about magic than he did, and chase down a large library or university and see what he could learn about the land in which he found himself.
For his part, Asari had noted the new clothes that Jolan was wearing, and indicated he wanted to imitate Jolan’s actions and upgrade his own wardrobe. Given the delay in their plans, he couldn’t see any need to hurry, and figured a time would present itself well before his uncle returned.
Since they had a number of hours left in the day Jolan talked Asari into showing him around, indicating foremost on his list of activities was to locate someone who would be willing to trade for the cuprum in their remaining coins. He had decided he would trade off the two quarters he had, and that should make them a bit more flush against any sudden contingencies.
A bit later Asari was leading him away from the inn, but in a different direction than he had taken earlier in the day. Apparently Carta had a number of shopping districts, and the one Asari wanted to visit would offer slightly better prices than the one here near the city center. Jolan had wanted to bring the staff, but had noted the look he had received from Asari when he’d come in with it, so reluctantly had left it in his room. He carried the pouch with the Colt, which made him a bit uncomfortable, being here in the city. A lifetime of laws against such things didn’t disappear overnight, and while he could see no reason they might be targeted, he would soon be carrying a large sum of gold, so it was prudent to do so.
They walked more than a mile, but the stroll allowed Jolan to see more of the city and its architecture. Stone was the primary building material here, some of the buildings appearing to be brick and mortar, and others being constructed of large stones joined in a manner he couldn’t determine. Glass was common, in all shapes and sizes, and try as he might, Jolan couldn’t remember when glass became common back home.
Instead of a metal worker, Asari took them to a jeweler in the southern district. After his initial disbelief at their claims, he looked over the coin he was offered, and making some simple checks that Jolan couldn’t see as being able to tell the man anything about the coins composition, became more serious. Jolan assumed the man had used a bit of magic somehow, and the visible tests were a cover.
“You have more of these?” the jeweler asked.
“Of course,” Asari answered. “But today we are only interested in exchanging two of them. Depending on what you offer, we may be interested in exchanging more in the future.”
“You know this is not pure cuprum?”
“They are more than ninety percent cuprum by weight. You can establish that for yourself easily enough.” Jolan and Asari had talked over their approach before leaving the inn.
“Hmmmm,” the man said, placing the quarter back on the balance and measuring the weight for the fourth time. “Why would anyone make a coin of such a rare and valuable metal. I have never seen the like of the symbols. Do you know where it is from?”
“My source did not say. I am of the impression the coins are very old. That does not concern me. If you can get more from a collector that is up to you.”
“How do I know you won’t simply take my offer and use it to bargain with another. If I make a fair offer, will you use that against me? Have you sold any of the coins before?”
They hadn’t sold any quarters, but the sales of the pennies gave them some idea of what kind of offer would be reasonable. The jeweler was right however. They would check his bid against what his local competition would offer.
“There has to be some integrity and honesty here,” Asari explained. “You are right that we will check your offer. We are obviously interested in the best price, one that is fair to both parties. Here is my offer. You make a bid. If after checking around your price is highest, we would of course return. However, even if others only match your offer, we will give you our word to return and sell to you.”
After considerable mumbling, and playing around with the odd pyramidal abacus, the jeweler gave into the inevitable and made an offer.
“Thirteen silvers, but that assumes two identical coins. That’s the best I can do for you.”
His offer was two full silvers more than they would have received in Trailways, and reassured them it was most likely fair. Even so, with a promise to return if his offer stood up, the two made the rounds of prospective buyers, and an hour later returned to the man’s shop.
Smiling happily, the man handed over the silver and said, “Two honest men
. I’m hoping we can do further business in the near future.”
The money exchange had taken most of the afternoon, so they decided to return to the inn and continue their explorations in the morning. After all they had plenty of time. Less than a block away Jolan spotted another “book” store and wanted to have a quick look. Expecting the same arrangement as the place he had found earlier in the day, Jolan was pleased to discover what he had found was a store that sold maps. Each of the maps was hand drawn, and on paper two foot square or larger. After a bit of a discussion with the proprietor, he was shown a detailed map of Seret, and a less detailed one of the whole of the Settled Lands. These were of the smallest size, but rolled up they still made a handful. Jolan couldn’t bring himself to fold something so carefully drawn. The cost was excessive, but he wanted the maps.
Since they had eaten in the inn the previous evening, Asari was game to try the eatery Jolan had found during his earlier walk. The food was as good as promised, and the service superb.
* * * *
The next morning found them out and riding in a carriage headed toward the river. Asari promised to show Jolan his uncle’s house and then the harbor. Afterwards they could visit a couple of more shopping areas, and see if they could locate a library for Jolan.
Seeing the harbor Jolan agreed there was no question that Carta was a major inland port. There were hundreds of boats, from small two man canoes up to a full-sized steam powered paddleboat. The steamboat was the first real indication of technology being applied here, and he would have loved to have a close look at the engine room. Asari told him the steamboats were relatively new and hadn’t been operating when he first came here. They made trips carrying both passengers and cargo all the way to the port in Jupura, the trip taking five days from Carta, and almost twice that to return.