Baram rubbed his head with one large hand.
“Aaah, my head feels as if full of fog,” he complained, “Tell me, did I do anything…out of step by chance?” The big man wore a worried expression.
“Oh no, I thought the belly dance was most entertaining,” I teased.
Baram’s face changed to one of sheer horror, and he covered it with both hands.
“Relax my friend, you were the perfect drunken companion,” I smiled.
“Baram!” shouted Kendra from within the next room.
Baram glanced to the door.
“I feel we should leave for some supplies for our journey.” He looked again to the bedroom as if some unspeakable thing were to suddenly emerge.
“It’s market day today,” he hurried “, and I’m sure we’ll get some good bargains.”
I nodded a smile as I stood and shook the remainder of my sleep from my head.
After a quick wash and a change of clothes for Baram, followed by some more shouting from an angry Kendra, we left and headed for the marketplace.
Baram seemed instantly cheered by the warm sun and the fresh morning air, but I suspect it had more to do with not being in Kendra’s presence anymore.
It seemed to me that most people in Ranak-Lore were heading in one direction. It just happened to be the same direction we were headed. I also noticed that most were women, and all were carrying woven baskets of straw, sacks, or anything else that may have been of some use for carrying items.
As we followed along with the increasing flow of people, we came upon the main shopping street in Ranak-Lore’s centre. Crossing this once again, we entered into the eastern district. Following the big man’s lead, I judged that we were heading for somewhere in the north-west most section of the City.
“It’s popular then? This market day?” I said as I engaged in casual conversation.
Baram grinned down at me from his slightly larger than mine advantage point.
“Yes! Indeed. Market day comes only once every thirty days. Merchants come from all over. Even as far as Nashmere to sell their goods here.”
A woman suddenly appeared from behind us and practically rammed Baram as we turned the next corner. She then turned and glared back accusingly before speeding off at a great pace and disappearing into the crowds somewhere ahead.
Baram shook his head after the woman.
“Unfortunately it also makes the women here go a little crazy when the market’s due,” he grumbled.
After some more pushing and a lot more shoving, we finally journeyed forward in the street until it opened out into the largest market square I had ever seen.
Brightly coloured canvas in a myriad of different colours and designs adorned the tops of the pitched tents and wagons that stretched off in long rows across the length of the square. Shouts and cries from a horde of merchants rang out in the air as they each shouted bargains for the ears of the potential passing customers.
A great shout went up somewhere to my left. Turning to look, I saw a crowd of people sound their delight once more as a troupe of colourful jugglers performed acrobatic feats for the delights of the watching spectators.
My eyes were everywhere, as sights, sounds, and smells from all different directions assaulted my senses in a bombardment of confusion. It had taken just six seconds and the passing of the first stall before I was offered a new cooking set comprising of two heavy saucepans and six metal bowls for the special discounted offer of six silver pieces.
People bustled all over the place and purchased all manner of items, some of which I think they bought just for the sake of buying them. The next woman who passed us carried with some difficulty, a large, horribly decorated earthen-wear pot. Staring at the monstrosity, I watched her weave amongst the crowds, on one instance I thought she was going to drop the thing, which would have been no great misfortune.
It did not take long in the huge market before we found the necessary items for our journey. Amongst our purchases, there was rope from the Nessician merchant, salted meats and dried fruits from the Nashmereian merchant, and oiled skins to protect from the cold and wet of the north’s weather. These were acquired from another colourful merchant who introduced himself as Ashram. Ashram then skilfully proceeded to sell me a set of small feather filled cushions. “Ideal for a weary head,” he had advised, for the special price of two silver coins each.
Baram just grinned as I stowed the cushions into the sacks I had bought.
After browsing around at a few other interesting stalls, we then proceeded to make slow progress through the shopping throng in the direction of the stables.
Turning the next corner, we found ourselves in a quiet street with room to move.
“By the Gods, I’m glad to be out of there!” I said, whilst looking behind.
“Market day,” grinned Baram as he strode beside me with one of the large item filled sacks.
The journey to the stables was a short one, and after a few turns and a couple more streets, we were there. Walking in line with the straw filled stables we continued along until we reached number ten. The young boy who I had met the day before was currently doing nothing as he lazed himself against a wooden stable gate. But after seeing my approach, he sprang into action, ran inside the stable, and led Storm outside by way of rope and harness.
Storm looked healthy and well rested. I stroked his mane as he shook his head in recognition of his master’s touch.
“I can have him saddled if you wish it sir?” stated the boy.
“It won’t take me long, and you need not pay, as the soldier you were with has paid the stables for five days worth, and he gave me a silver coin for my troubles.”
I smiled to myself at the Captain’s good gesture.
“That won’t be necessary.” I crouched down until I was level with the lad.
“I need him ready just before the sounding of the second watch this night. I also need a horse for my friend here and a packhorse too. Do you know where I can purchase them?”
The boy nodded and pointed down the line of stables towards a large hut with a red roof.
“The Stable Master has horses for sale, as sometimes some people never return for their mounts.” I nodded in understanding.
“But that is a very late time for me to be here sir.” The boy’s grimy face gave a beseeching look at mine.
“Would the morning not do, as they normally lock the gates of a night?”
I shook my head “It would not.” I said sternly.
Fumbling around in my money pouch I pulled out a gold coin and held it up, so the boy could see it.
The lad’s eyes lit up like two full moons as he eyed the coin hungrily.
“It’s yours if you have my horse ready for me when needed?” The boy nodded vigorously.
“I’ll be here,” he assured with enthusiasm.
“I also require my friend’s horse ready, along with these goods stowed upon the pack horse.” I played with the gold coin between my fingers as I rolled it alluringly in front of him. His hypnotic gaze remained unmoving.
“Can you do this for me?”
The boy nodded his agreement.
“Good!”
As I stood, I popped the coin back into my leather pouch, and with Baram’s help, we proceeded to stow our provisions within a corner of Storm’s stable.
Once inside I quickly checked through my belongings and then headed towards the Stable Master’s hut.
“He’s a fine looking horse,” commented Baram as he watched Storm being led back into the stables.
I nodded my agreement as we continued to walk.
“We sort of found each other in the night,” I informed.
“Oh?” enquired Baram.
I nodded as I recalled the story.
“I was in the farmlands to the south-west on a small job for one of the local farmers when I encountered some roaming Wolvern on the wooded trail I was on. There were three, and after killing two of them, the third fled. I thought
nothing more of the matter, until much later, when I heard the howls of many of them searching the track ahead of me.”
“A pack hunt!” Baram said whilst scratching at some irritation on his ear.
“Just so,” I returned. “You know as well as I, Baram, that the last thing a Wolvern does before it dies is to let out a death howl to alert the pack.”
“Like the time when we were near to Harath,” said Baram.
I nodded an answer.
“Anyway I decided it best to give them a wide berth, so I scouted out of the woodland and continued my journey. By the time I left the wood, it was late in the day, the sky was darkening, and rain had started to fall.”
I looked to Baram just to make sure I still held his attention. I did. So I continued with the recollection.
“The wind picked up, and the rain soon turned too forceful for me to continue. So I sought shelter and found it in the shape of a large cave cut deep into the side of a hill. After making a fire, I settled down for the night. It could not have been long after that when I awoke to the sound a neighing horse. Springing up from the ground I went to the entrance, and looked out into the night.”
“And that’s when you found him?” intervened Baram.
“Yes,” I nodded again. “He was standing outside the cave’s entrance, fully saddled and stamping the ground with his feet. He looked as if he had been galloping for some time for he was hot to the touch and covered in sweat. I guess that he must have just seen the light from my fire and headed for it.”
“And the rider?” Baram enquired.
“Nowhere to be seen,” I said solemnly “It’s a mystery to this day. Storm spent the night in the cave with me and has been with me ever since. The saddle packs bore no markings and contained little, so I claimed him for my own.”
“I wonder what happened to the rider?” puzzled Baram, whilst this time scratching his head.
“Who knows?” I shrugged “Perhaps the Wolverns or some other foul beast?”
Baram nodded in thoughtful contemplation.
“I did scout ahead the next day, but the rain had washed away all signs of Storm’s trail.”
“Then it must have been a fated meeting,” Baram ended in conclusion.
I just nodded my head, giving the matter little more thought as I knocked on the door of the Stable Master’s hut. A small, stout, bearded man wearing a leather apron and holding a metal hammer opened the door. After explaining our intentions, we were led through the Stable Master’s hut towards a door at the rear by the man who introduced himself as Galland. The door led out into a small paddock, which was encircled by a wooden fence. Six horses were busily chewing bales of hay at the far end of the paddock, and one was tied with a rope to the fence to our right. Galland must have been working on this horse when we arrived as there was a stool, nails and a horse’s shoe scattered around on the ground next to it.
“Now this one,” boomed Galland as he crossed the paddock to stroke a sleek looking brown mare. The horse showed little interest and continued to chew on the hay that lay at her feet.
“She may not look like much, but she has the speed of the Gods in them their hooves of hers.”
The horse did look fast, but I had serious doubts about Baram’s weight on such an animal for the long journey we would soon be undertaking.
Baram, however, was already showing his interest in a much sturdier looking beast at the end of the row.
“Nothing for me thanks, but perhaps something with a little more strength in the legs for my good friend there.” I motioned to Baram as Galland followed my gaze to the big man who was busily pulling back the lips and inspecting the teeth of the end horse, much to its annoyance.
Galland looked at the brown mare, then quickly looked at Baram.
“Yes, yes, perhaps you’re right there,” he whispered.
“A fine strong horse if ever there was one,” Galland called as he strode cheerfully to Baram’s side. The weaponsmith was busy stroking the side of the large brown stallion.
“It looks good, what do you think Taragon?” asked a beaming Baram.
The horse did look in excellent shape. Dark brown in colour with a mane of jet black. Its large, strong leg muscles pushed against the skin to form its well-built outline. It reminded me a little of Storm.
“I think you’ll be very happy together,” I teased.
The smile on Baram face turned just as quickly into a frown.
A smiling Galland patted the brown stallion. “A fine choice good sirs, the previous owner used him to pull a wagon before selling his business, along with the horse, to myself. A stronger beast I doubt you’d find.”
“We’ll take him,” I said, “along with a saddle and packs and I’ll also take this one here for a pack horse.” I pointed to a smaller black mare.
If at all possible the grin on Galland’s face got broader.
“Of course, of course. Come into the hut where we can talk some business.”
After paying a slightly larger than normal price for the horses, Baram then chose a saddle befitting his posterior. He then tried it for fit upon the brown stallion before mounting the horse and trying a few somewhat unsteady practice circles around the paddock. After his fourth circle and one slightly precarious dismount, we led our horses out of a side gate and headed back towards the stables. A still smiling Galland waved to us from the gate as we went.
“It’s been a while since I rode a horse,” confessed my embarrassed sounding friend.
“Really?….. You couldn’t tell,” I lied.
Baram nodded as he walked with his horse.
“Been almost a year now, I guess I really haven’t had much use for one lately.”
“You’ll soon find your legs again,” I said with some comfort.
Baram cast me an uncertain smile.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” I enquired cheerfully.
He then seemed to brighten as he gave a firm nod. “Yes. I’m going to call him Anvil, after the place where I forge my weapons.”
I tried not to laugh, but could not contain myself.
“A fine name I’m sure,” I chuckled as I fought to keep my merriment under control.
Baram’s face frowned hard, physically hurt at my amusement.
“No better than Storm,” he angered in return.
“No, I guess you’re right there,” I sniggered.
“Anvil it is then,” I said firmly.
I could feel Baram’s gaze upon me as I felt the laughter welling up inside me once again.
Upon reaching our stable, we secured Anvil and the packhorse next to Storm, before heading back into the City. The sun had now reached its zenith in the sky high above us, casting its radiance on all those fortunate enough to feel its warmth. The houses in the western district where we now walked reflected the sun back off their white timbered walls and into the street. I shaded my eyes from this unforgiving glare to see the path I walked.
“Taragon.”
“Yes, Baram?” I said whilst squinting up at the weaponsmith.
“I need to ask a favour of such.”
“Then don’t need to ask it, ask it!”
“Well I haven’t told Kendra about...you know, about coming with you on this journey of yours, and I think it would be better…if I was sort of by myself” Baram wore the same sheepish expression on his face, as when he had first told me of Kendra.
I decided to make it easy for him.
“Say no more my friend. I’m sure I can find something to entertain myself within this City of yours while you explain your intentions.”
“It will only be for a couple of hours or so, I’m sure,” said Baram.
“Take your time.” I looked up at him again. “I’ll meet you back at your house by nightfall.”
Baram nodded in agreement.
“Besides you’re probably going to need a bit more time since it's going to be your last moment together for a while.” I nudged the walking giant in the ribs and cast him a w
ink just to see his discomfort at turning bright red.
As we entered the next street, we found a large woman wearing a white apron dumping a full container of foul smelling garbage into a drainage gully at the side of the lane. The stench of the putrid smelling waste found its way to my nose by wafting towards me upon the warm air. My face cringed as we passed the rotten heap.
“That reminds me Baram, where can I find a bath in these parts?”
Chapter Five:
After leaving Baram in Ranak-Lore’s main street, I followed his directions to the Baths of the Floating Swan and to the scented warm waters of one of its many wooden bathtubs. All my cares and worries dissipated away as the relaxing, soothing waters ran over old wounds to turn them soft to the touch once more.
“More hot water Mr Stein?”
I turned quickly in my bath to see the same old man who had shown me in.
“Why not!” I said whilst trying not to sound surprised by his stealthy approach.
The old man climbed the two wooden steps leading to the tub’s large round entrance and heaved a large jug onto its rim; then he expertly poured the contents into the bath in a motion repeated many times before. The effect was instantaneous as the fresh hot water circulated around my submerged body.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” asked the old attendant.
“No that’s fine, thank you,” I managed to say through clenched teeth as my body adjusted itself to the sudden increase in temperature.
“Oh, how are you getting along with my armour?” I called out in afterthought, as the man descended the steps.
Turning to face me he gave a small bow.
“Your armour is being cleaned and oiled as requested.”
“That’s great.” And with that, I submerged myself deeper into the bath until its I had totally succumbed to its warm embrace.
After an hour or so I emerged from my bath feeling like a different man, relaxed, clean and invigorated I was now ready for anything and began drying myself with the cloth that was provided. Once dry, I put back on my cotton undergarments, picked up my money pouch and surveyed the room. The bath cubicle contained little apart from the large wooden bathtub, a huge mirror that hung on one wall, two chairs, and a long shelf, which ran under the mirror. Stacked along the shelf, there were various types of grooming brushes and an assortment of differently coloured glass bottles in stylish designs. Picking up an elegantly worked red bottle, I unstopped the cork and put it to my nose.
Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal Page 11