by TJ Muir
Jedda started to plan. His first thought was to try to run along the bank and keep up with the boat. He had tried that one and found that the boats moved quicker than it appeared when he watched them. He gave up that idea, bent over, gasping for breath. He thought about trying to bribe someone to get information. But he didn't know anyone well enough to trust what he found out. Plus, he was becoming a little stingy with his precious hoard of coins.
On his fifth attempt, Karrahk was again headed toward the canal. Jedda ducked down into his usual tunnels and raced ahead. He had a bit of more lead time since he didn't have to wait and watch to see where the man was going. He got to the harbor and saw the boat tied up, waiting. Still no sign of Karrahk, and no sign of the boatman either.
Maybe he could sneak up and find something about the boat? He ducked down and made his way along the shadows. The moons were thin crescents in the sky, making it easier for him to move about. He snuck right up to the boat, peering over the low railing. It was more of a barge, but one that was carrying people rather than cargo. It was too dark to see anything, but Jedda strained his eyes in a hope to see, regardless. Nothing but night. Then he heard a sound coming from behind him.
He was sure that it was Karrahk. He knew it down in his bones. His heart raced. He looked around quickly, but he had no way to get back into cover. He was hidden by the shadow of the boat, but the dock was clear. In a split second decision that was instinct more than thinking, he hoisted himself up, rolling sideways onto the deck, and laid flat, behind some grain bags and tarps.
His heart pounded the entire boat ride. It was too dark to see very much, especially pressed down as low as he could get. After a little while, Jedda could hear someone moving on deck; someone called out-- answered by another voice, further away. Then the boat bumped up against a dock. A lantern came out. Jedda was on the far side of the boat. He didn't know if that was a lucky thing or not. He had hoped he could slide off into the shadows. But maybe he would have been spotted. So he waited, patient, in the dark shadows, until all the voices quieted. He tried to peek, to see where Karrahk went, but couldn't raise his head enough to see anything without the risk of being seen.
Eventually, convinced it was safe, he crept across the boat and slipped down onto the ground. He wobbled for a moment, almost losing his balance, jostling the boat with a thump. He ducked down low, crouched against discovery. But he needn't have worried. No one was around.
He was surrounded by trees, and the fresh smells of grass and a hint of livestock wafted in the night air. Jedda was disoriented by it all. He had no way to get his bearings here, out of the city. Sights, sounds, smells-- overwhelmed his senses but told him nothing about what was around, what was safe, or where to go.
He saw the flicker of light through the stand of trees. The lantern? He followed it, heard the faint crunch of gravel under his feet. As he caught up, he heard the muffled sounds of voices. One of them belonged to Karrahk. He let out a sigh of relief and moved in closer.
They approached a building that was as large as the larger buildings in the city, lights in many of the windows, with arches and balconies and stone columns. This, Jedda guessed, was where Karrahk lived. He blinked, bespelled and amazed at the luxury he saw, even in the dim light. Fairy lights flickering, bringing creatures to life when conditions were right. Fairy lights that fooled flowers into blooming at night, under the moons.
As the night waned into dawn, Jedda's eyes went wide, seeing the finery and detail. Bushes carved into fantastic creatures and designs. He stopped to watch a carved bush because it looked like it was moving even though it wasn’t. He wondered if it was a trick of the light. Then he heard a voice in the distance. He couldn’t tell how far away it was; another voice joined it, and he heard sheep complaining as someone was trying to get them to move.
Jolted back to reality, Jedda realized he was out in the open, trespassing on unfamiliar ground--and it was nearly daylight. He ducked away from the path, crouching behind a bush trimmed to look like a girl carrying a tray. He craned his neck, trying to take in the lay of the land and plot his escape. In the dim light, it was hard to make out--but there seemed to be a solid line of bushes that marched around the house to form a rough square, with the river at the back.
For a moment, he toyed with the idea of retreating back to the boat, but a clatter and gruff voices shouting indistinctly quickly changed his mind. He decided to make a run for the bushes, and hope to find a road on the other side. Taking a deep breath, he crouched low and bolted into the open.
He ran. Heart beating wildly, his traitorous breath thundering in his ears, waiting for a voice to shout at him, or a hand to jerk him off his feet. The bushes loomed ahead, too far away, but suddenly he was there and he charged through...
And smack into a stone wall.
Momentarily stunned, he groped at the wall and realized he was flat on the ground. Shaking his head to regain his senses, he scrambled up and checked himself over. Bruised arms, tender spot on the side of his face, sore chest, but basically unharmed. He assessed the situation. The wall was disappointingly smooth; he wasn’t climbing that to freedom. The bushes were thick and shielded him from view, but spindle-thin and weak near the top. Also not safe to climb. There was a space between the base of the bushes and the stone, so resigning himself to his fate, he crouched low, and slid along the stone wall away from the increasingly busy river, praying he would find some way out.
Less than a quarter NIbbin later, Jedda found himself within view of the main gate. Fancy wrought iron, taller than two men, set in massive black granite pillars. In the early light, he couldn’t make out the elaborate carving. He reached up, tracing it with his fingers, but noted a guard house, just opposite from him, and ducked back into the bushes.
Someone was stirring on the other side of the window. His heart was racing, but instincts took over. He laid down flat on the ground, hidden by the bushes. A Man in a burgundy jacket came out, stopped outside the door and rolled his neck, trying to work out a kink. Then he stretched, hawked a glob of phlegm onto the ground and then walked straight towards the bushes where Jedda was hiding.
Jedda’s chest tightened and his stomach churned. It would be bad enough if he got caught, but getting caught spying on his patron? The man stopped by the bushes edge. Jedda turned his head away, hoping his hair wouldn’t stand out. The man started rattled the bushes with his hand, pushing them aside. Jedda lay there praying to the gods for something, anything, to just please make the man go away.
The man moved closer. Jedda flinched, his hand knocking into something soft.
A rabbit bolted past, brushing through his hair as ran out across the lawn.
Jedda heard footsteps move away. He lifted his head and watched the man trudge over to the gate, scratching the back of his neck while he walked. Jedda couldn’t see the man, but heard metal clank and then a faint scraping sound. The man came back into view as he headed back into the guardhouse.
The gods had heard his prayers. That sound was the gates being opened. He was one quick dash away from escape. He stood up, careful to be quiet. He scanned the area and noticed it was getting easier to see. The morning mist was beginning to lift, also. He crept forward, stopping when he heard voices inside the guardhouse. But no one came out, so he continued to creep forward until he could go no further without exposing himself.
The wall and bushes curved outward, keeping an even distance to the guardhouse as he slipped closer to the gate. In one swift move, he lunged forward, keeping low, and dashed through the opening and into the closest bushes on the other side of the wall, on the far side of the towering pillars.
He looked back at the gates, closer now. On each pillar, there was a hawk carved. The hawk was in flight, wings spread; and it clutched a scroll in its talons.
A cold chill swept over him, and he froze where he crouched. He remembered this emblem; So’har Hak’kar. This estate was House Charam. Karrahk was So’har Hak’kar? The cold crazy black-hearted bastar
d and generous patron were one and the same? He sat there for a few minutes, feeling his world spin. He waited until the couldn’t hear anything, and then pushed himself away from the pillar and stood up. He slipped out onto the lane and tried to look like he belonged there. Just like in the city, he walked like he knew where he was going even though he jumped and started with every bird, frog, and animal sound. If even half of those stories were true, this was the last place he wanted to get caught.
Jedda followed the road back towards the west which headed towards the city. But it curved towards the south, and he wasn’t sure where the road led. He walked for a little while and then came to the end of the wall. The wall turned a sharp corner, and the road continued to curve away to the south. Beyond the wall were pastures and open fields. He decided to head back toward the river. The lane was bordered now by low stone walls and wire fencing that kept the livestock from getting loose.
He slipped through the wire with ease and cut through a field of sheep that grazed outside of the estate walls. He wished he had noticed that earlier, and made his escape that much easier. The sheep ignored him as they grazed. His legs got soaked in the wet morning grass, and he didn’t like the feeling of being out in the open. He scurried from one cluster of trees to another as he crossed back towards the canal.
He came to the river outside of the estate walls, and while he could hear voices in the distance, none of them sound like they were coming closer. The canal had a lane along the bank, with paving stones. Easy travel. A few times, he heard people, or carriages, and dove into hiding. He didn’t know if this was a public road and didn’t want to take the chance of getting caught. He definitely didn’t like being out of the city where he had familiar landmarks and walls all around him. But he had plenty of new things to occupy his attention, as well as his anxiety regarding his patron.
Properties stretched out. Houses- single houses, not the towering apartments of the city. The residential canals, real canals, flowing with water; flowers and statues decorating its banks, and filled with expensive private boats. These were private sections outside the city, reserved for the wealthy elite, here the Da’har and So’har lived. Properties stretched out, large tracts of fenced and walled land, as extravagant as his patron's had been. For a few hours, admiring the change of scenery, he forgot his bewilderment.
He carried his confusion around for several days, before finally bringing it up to Turner.
“Just put that box over there, on the second shelf,” Turner said, pointing to the right side of the storage shed.
Jedda nodded and hoisted the box, a crate full of potatoes, onto the shelf. Blue potatoes. He found them funny, despite Turner explaining that foods from other regions often came in many colors. Jedda knew that one of the things that helped Turner was his ability to bring in some of these exotic foods that could be hard to locate. His sons shipped them from the west and the north. And Turner’s small shop survived on his custom orders.
“Funny how rich folk like all manner of things that come from far away,” Jedda said as he straightened the boxes. “But then rich folk do all sorts of strange things.”
“‘At they do, lad,” Turner agreed.
“I was out explorin’ like, round bout to the east-side,” Jedda said.
“What ya’s goin out there for?”
Jedda shrugged. “Just curious. Rich folk is an odd bunch. You wouldna believe it,” Jedda said “Big buildings, with all manner of things. A lot of fountains. Those rich folk likes their water. There was this one pond that had stones crossing it like they was floatin just above the surface not even touchin the water like. Just so as sommun don’t have to walk all the way around. And it was filled with the brightest bluest fish.”
“You describe it all so well, I can almost see it as if I was right there with ya,” Turner said, smiling.
But having once been out to that area, his curiosity was captured. He found himself returning to the area several times. He explored in and out of many estate properties, prowling right up to windows, peeking in, or watching from the branches of nearby trees. He was curious, looking in on this very different world, trying to understand this strange class: elite, wealthy and isolated.
And then there was his patron, the mysterious Hak’kar. There were so many wild and varied rumors and stories, that Jedda had no idea which-if any- might be true. He did know that doors opened to Hak'kar. Everywhere. Despite being one of the 'lesser' houses, it was clear that he held immense political power and influence. He was considered a valuable ally and a fearsome adversary. As Jedda watched, he saw that Hak’kar knew who to flatter, who to bribe, and whom to intimidate or outright blackmail--often with information Jedda himself had provided.
Jedda still couldn't figure out what Hak'kar wanted with him. It distracted him from some of his watching. Hak’kar played a long-game, thinking far ahead of his next meal, or his next night’s sleep. Jedda understood that, as different plans or comments fell into place. But a lot of that was beyond Jedda.
He thought that the social interactions and the politics of these mysterious elite people were beyond him. But, after watching the comings and goings of numerous people, the trysts, and indulgences, Jedda grew to understand that some drives- pleasure, fear, and pain, love lust, addiction- were universal.
Chapter Three
Jedda had been following Raifen, the second son of a spice merchant, which meant wealth. Raifen was actually meeting the daughter of a prominent So’har for a romantic tryst. Jedda had followed this development with amused interest. Hak'kar-Karrahk had shown his interested frown when Jedda had mentioned the affair, so Jedda added the man to his growing watch list. The merchant himself was a dull, honest man, but both sons had a kind of flair and often evoked sympathy and laughter from the gathering crowds. Jedda found himself drawn toward them, and toward the younger brother, Raifen, in particular.
He caught sight of Raifen and detoured from his intended path. A satisfied smile on his face, knowing that whatever happened, it would not be as boring as so many of his people on his list tended to be. This time, he didn't go towards any of the gaming houses, brothels or pubs. Jedda sighed, feeling a bit disappointed, but continued to follow as Raifen headed across the bridge and down the terraced gardens. Jedda followed him until he vanished into one of the walled garden parks, reserved for the houses that lined the far side of the imposing carved stone wall.
Jedda stood for a moment on the outside, frustrated. He hurried along the outer wall, worried about losing track of Raifen. Before long he came to a tree, and he scrambled up it with squirrel-like agility. He felt better, being in the tree than he had out in the open, especially in this area, where he knew everyone was well dressed and beggars were chased out. But he was no beggar, not anymore, he reminded himself. He shimmied out on a branch that hung over the wall, and dropped down to the ground, inside.
His luck and the gods were with him. He landed behind a cluster of landscaped shrubbery. The hedge was sculpted to look like waves, and the tree-shrubs were sculpted to look like birds taking flight from the water. A trick of the eye, as he gawked at the landscaping, he swore he saw the birds and waves moving. A magic garden. He couldn't help but stare, even from behind the display, he couldn't help but try to catch the movement that teased, like something in the corner of his eye. He blinked, and shook his head, forcing himself back to his task. He was afraid he had lost track of Raifen. But he found him, not far away, perched on a bench next to a very pretty young lady who was quite taken by Raifen's wit and charm.
Jedda watched the two of them, as they picnicked in this most exquisite of gardens. When they left, Jedda followed after the girl, to a residence that belonged to this private garden. There was a score of houses, surrounding this giant walled pleasure garden, all of them discreetly separate from each other, but sharing a common wall that kept this sanctuary space private. Jedda settled in, intent upon learning more about this captivating young woman--especially any secrets that may be of use to hi
s employer.
Jedda checked in on her several times over the next span. The girl was exquisite and seemed very skilled at deflecting Raifen's advances and flirting. His curiosity expanded to include her- that Raifen called Diya.
Jedda lingered for the duration of their date, carving a duck as he sat nested back among the greenery. He watched as he fed her some pastry, popping it into her mouth, and as he tossed berries into the air, catching them in his mouth. that made Diya laugh, and she began to try it herself, with less success. She seemed more interested in catching berries, than having someone hand feed them to her. Raifen surprised her with a little box, which she opened, her face lighting with pleasure. She lifted a bracelet up, stones glittering in the fading sunlight. Raifen placed it on her wrist, and then leaned in to kiss her. Jedda looked away, as the two of them snuggled for a while. It was evening before they began to pack up their picnic.
The two of them walked together to the gate, Jedda watched as she kissed him, next to the lips, a proper kiss seen in public now. Then the two of them went in separate directions. Raifen was heading back towards the terraces. Jedda turned and followed Diya. She headed through the market square, which was mostly empty.
“Jomar,” she called out, waving at a couple of people who were camped out on the steps of the central fountain. She hurried over, hugging the man she had just waved to. Jedda blinked, confused. But she acted like she knew this man very well, arm wrapped around his waist, sitting on his lap. Was she married? Who was this person she was with and what was he to Diya?
“So where have you been?” the man asked.
She smiled, waving her hand. “Oh, you know. Here and there.”