by Jem I Kelley
Aden took the coins out of his pocket. “Probably not enough for more than a slice of bread at the posh place, it’s going to have to be this Groucho’s.”
Bliss started moving. “If the food is okay I couldn’t care less how the chef acts.”
A rusty railing bordered the eatery. Upturned wooden barrels of various sizes made do as both seats and tables. A ramshackle stove served as oven.
A man with intense eyes, a pile of hair and restless manner caught Aden’s eye. The man swept around the tables with a platter of food upon one hand and a dishcloth draped across the other. He wore a chef’s hat.
“Here you go Sir, Madam.”
He plunked down a platter of steaming bowls onto a barrel around which an elderly couple sat.
“Thanks Groucho... er ... I mean, Gaulz,” said the old man, raising a shaking spoon.
The chef’s expression remained dour as he laid a loaf of bread beside the bowls. “Have this bread, on the house.”
“Got any salt?” asked the old man.
“Salt ... Salt? Somefink wrong with the way I seasoned the stew or somefink?” Asked the chef.
The man’s mouth tightened around shrivelled gums; a twinkling, knowing expression passed between him and the elderly woman with him.
“No. It’s all right, Gaulz. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“All I’m saying is that if you likes it with plenty of salt then maybe you could eat down the way at Razisz eatery.”
“Razisz food does have all the best seasoning,” agreed the man with almost rehearsed patter.
Groucho Gaulz put his hands on his hips: “Well why don’t you go down there then?”
“Razisz is full, or else we would have done!”
For a second the old man and Groucho Gaulz glared at each other, then Groucho laughed and the old man laughed and Groucho moved away shaking his head and with a smile on his lips.
Bliss leaned in towards Aden. “We’re going to eat here?” He whispered. “The guy’s as crocked in the head as the water seller.”
“It’s you who wanted to eat somewhere.”
Bliss stared at the heaving crowd, then at the spaciousness of the eatery and sighed: “Here it is then.”
They made their way to an upturned barrel with the words ‘DAZ-ALE’ running around the side in faded paint. Nearby were two smaller barrels. Aden lowered himself on the one with ‘RUM’ letters and Bliss flopped onto the one labelled ‘TAR.’
Near to their table sat a man with greyish skin. A predatory nose struck like an eagle’s beak from his face. White hair and a strangely swollen stomach added to his unusual look. A cloak covered his narrow shoulders and a pair of pinstripe trousers his long legs. He appeared out of place in the market.
Before him on a tin plate were beans in sauce, a few cuts of meat and a slice of bread. The man prodded the food with a tarnished fork.
Aden, watching the man, didn’t notice Groucho approach.
“Right then, what you having to eat?”
“What you got?” replied Bliss.
“Fish stew, camel and beans, dates and honey or bread and cheese.”
Aden and Bliss winced at the word stew; it brought too many images of life in prison and memories of rat meat.
“Got any pies?” said Bliss.
“Pies!”
Groucho looked at them closely. “That’s a Northern accent you’ve got.”
“Haverland.”
Aden thought up a quick excuse for him and Bliss being here alone, so far from home. “We’re with our parents, important Haverland merchants.”
Groucho looked around the eatery. “I don’t see no parents.”
Aden noticed the sharp-nosed man near them had stopped picking at his food and turned to watch. “They’re off making a deal. We’ll have bread and cheese, if you haven’t got pies.”
“You can pay?”
“Course we can.”
Aden produced the coins from his pocket and dropped them on the table, hoping that it’d be just enough.
Grouch whipped the coins off the table. “That’ll do!”
He turned to the man with the large stomach and sharp nose.
“Everythink all right, Mister Sardohan?”
Aden started at mention of the name.
“I beg your pardon Gaulz?” said Sardohan.
Groucho swallowed. “I said, is everythink o.k. Mister Sardohan? With the food and all.”
The man called Sardohan smiled through thin lips. “No dear Gaulz, it is not. I came to this market to accommodate a certain leather worker. I discover he is off delivering an item to a customer. Therefore, I have to sojourn at a watering hole fit for dogs and tolerate your annoying manner.”
Groucho blinked in surprise. Sardohan watched through narrowed eyes, unperturbed. “Yes, my dear Gaulz, anything to say?”
“You’ve a right to your views, Mister Sardohan, Sir.”
“Good, just you remember that. Only a few years ago, you were nothing more than a magpie skulking about people’s houses; now, through inordinate luck, you have business and money. Don’t forget Kesskran was your benefactor in this.”
Groucho flicked an unhappy glance at the friends before bustling off.
Sardohan spoke to Aden. “Uncouth place, I normally do better, though the food’s acceptable.”
Aden paused before replying. This was Sardohan!? This was the man who they’d overheard speak to Tanest those weeks ago. Aden had thought he'd be in Haverland now, plotting the city’s destruction. Why was Sardohan still in Dazarian?
“I’ve seen worse,” said Aden remembering to reply.
The man straightened from his food and looked down past his sharp nose: “I’m positive you have dear boy, positive you have. So, you’re enjoying a holiday in Dazarian with your parents?”
“That’s right.”
The man snorted. “These native Dazarians skulk like dogs in an ill-kept pack. Lord Kesskran endeavours to bring a work ethic here, but alas, it’s not easy.”
“You sound like you know his thoughts?”
Sardohan’s eyes drilled into Aden. “I fly the banner of the Dark Raven with pride. Kesskran is my leige.”
“Wow!” said Bliss, goggle eyed.
Aden felt his skin go cold. They were talking to one of Lord Kesskran’s top men, here in an eatery in a market! No wonder Gaulz was nervous. Aden looked closely and saw that the man’s eyes held a tint of yellow. Governor Tanest had similar features. According to Savernake so did all those who had once been captive on the island mentioned in the diary ledger.
“So,” drawled Sardohan. “You hail from Haverland, eh? Lord Kesskran asked me to Ambassador there last year. He needed someone he could trust to fly the flag of the carrion feeder in a fat and green land. Possibly you’ve seen me go by in my carriage at parades?”
“Thought I recognized you from somewhere,” fibbed Bliss.
Sardohan smiled grimly. “Haverland is a succulent heifer lazing in a lush field more than ample for her needs. Blame for such indulgence can be placed at the feet of the Disc-Artefacts, of course. Still, it is a sovereign country I suppose it is for the king to rule it as he sees fit.”
“Of course it is,” said Bliss stoutly. “I like the king.”
“Me too,” added Aden.
“Of course you do, of course. However, you’re youths, you don’t understand. I see the adults in your land wasting time on parks, monuments and theatre; handouts for the poor, schooling for the young. It’s like throwing golden breadcrumbs to pigeons. It is wasted money, utterly wasted.
“In the rest of the world, without the advantage of discs, life is a battle. One can’t afford to squander resources helping others. In the real world the talented, the strong, the hardworking and - dare I say it - the ruthless, are the ones that prevail.”
Bliss eyes flashed. “Well I think the king’s right to use his money the way he does, like helping the poor and building parks and stuff. What’s the point i
n having loads of dosh if you can’t do a bit of good with it?”
Sardohan regarded Bliss like a bird of prey sizing up a meal. Aden tensed and prepared to run. Then the ambassador relaxed and chuckled.
“Perhaps you’re correct young girl, perhaps you are. I’m just an old and cynical fellow, I suppose. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Bliss opened her mouth, possibly to reply with a caustic comment, and Aden stamped hard on his friend’s foot, causing her to yelp: didn’t Bliss understand the danger this man posed?
“I hope talking to us you’re not letting your food go cold?” said Aden to Sardohan.
The man glanced at the meal before him. “Dear me, yes, this scant offering grows chill. Think on what I’ve said, though.”
Groucho, appeared beside them: “yer meals.”
The chef plunged tin platters of bread and cheese on the upturned barrel. Aden tried the cheese. The taste exploded onto his taste-buds. The best cheese he’d tasted in two years swept around his mouth and slid down his throat. He lifted a buttered slice of bread that lay beside the cheese and tried that. The bread was warm, the butter creamy.
Grouch had his hands on his hips and a surly expression on his face. “Well? What’s wrong with it?”
Aden couldn’t find fault with the meal. After so long eating rat meat, stale bread and rotting beef – this food had no comparison.
“Nothing’s wrong with it.”
“You’re sure? Not lacking in salt?”
“No, it’s just right.”
Groucho wasn’t satisfied: “Bit expensive for you?”
The Ambassador slapped down his cutlery, wiped his mouth with a silk handkerchief and stood.
“Ah, thought so, that’s the devil I’ve been waiting for,” he said spotting a figure in the crowd. He started moving from the eatery, then paused.
“Gaulz, if you don’t let these children eat their food in peace, I’ll see to it this eatery is pulled down tomorrow by Kesskran’s guards.”
With that he was gone into the crowds. Groucho gulped, looked at the friends and muttered about glasses needing cleaning, before moving off.
“You know this food IS delicious,” mumbled Bliss, her cheeks bulging like a hamster’s.
All worries cast aside; the two attacked the meal before them.
The food was soon eaten. Bliss moved her barrel near to Aden, where they could lean their backs against the eatery railing for support. The food in their stomachs, the heat of the day, and the constant movement of the crowd lulled them into a deep state of relaxation.
Chapter 13: Sergeant Plumbert
“There’s me been worried sick and you two act as if you’re on a holiday.”
The friends started and turned to see a man, with a mottled grey beard and an impassive face. The man was dressed in a policeman's blue uniform - complete with helmet on head.
“Sergeant Plumbert!?”
Aden hadn’t expected to see anyone he knew in this place, especially a policeman. The fact it was old Plumbert really threw him. Sergeant Plumbert, the sternest policeman in their neighbourhood, the man who’d caught them scrumping apples as kids.
“Is it really you, Plumbert?”
“Reckon so. Let me see…” The policeman pinched his hand. “Yep.”
Bliss frowned: “What are you doing here?”
Plumbert put his hands to his hips. “There’s thanks for you. I’m the one assigned to collect you both today, and take you back to our embassy. I got to the prison and they told me you’d been let out already: gave me a right panic.”
Bliss laughed. “That’s right, they let us out an hour early. We didn’t want to stand in the sun so we thought we’d wait in the market and then we realised we needed a bite to eat. We didn’t know that’d be you fetching us! How come it’s you, Plumbert? We expected some old duffer embassy clerk. How come you’re in Dazarian at all?”
Plumbert’s face took on a concerned look as his eyes swept over their bodies. “Looks like a good meal was exactly what you needed. You’re as thin as rakes. By the look of your faces you’ve had a few hard times too. Still, you’re young, you’ll get over it.”
“How did you find us in this lot?” asked Aden.
“Luck. The guards on the prison gatehouse shouted out to me they’d seen you go in here. I’ve been walking around ten minutes as it is. God knows what would have happened if I’d missed you, don’t fancy the chances of two Haverlanders if they get lost in this city.”
Plumbert took off his helmet and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “Stuff me it’s hot.”
“But how come you’re in this country?” said Bliss, for the second time.
“An important sick Dazarian needed a police escort here - name of Sardohan. And Inspector Thomas also thought it’d best if someone familiar met you after your release. So it was a ‘killing two birds with one stone’ sort of thing. I arrived in the city, by ship, five days ago.”
“Sardohan! We were talking to someone who called himself that 5 minutes ago.”
Plumbert put his helmet back on his head and frowned, “In this market?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you see him?
“No. Not his sort of gaff either, I wouldn’t have thought.”
“You said he was sick. What’s he sick with?” Asked Bliss.
Plumbert tapped his midriff. “Didn’t you see his stomach?”
“Massive,” said Bliss.
“It’s been swollen like that for weeks. Says it’s a Dazarian disease and that he has to come back here to get it treated.”
Bliss snorted.
“He seemed to be eating all-right to me.”
Plumbert made a face. “Perhaps it doesn’t affect his appetite. Anyhow, we’d better leave for the Embassy. C’mon.”
As they walked across the market the friends, in low tones, competed to tell Plumbert all that had happened to them over the two years in prison.
“Stew most days…” said Bliss
“Watery stew…” said Aden.
“…rats meat…”
“…Tanest and this Sardohan….”
“…plot to destroy…”
“…goblins…”
“…sneaked in with a key…”
“…pulled skeleton…”
“…ledger…”
“…Yeccozin… drugs from eggs…”
“That Tanest,” said Bliss, “he's up to something for sure.”
They walked under a sandstone arch, the Northern entrance to the market, and passed into ragged streets. Aden stepped around a huddle of children in rags.
“We’re really worried.”
They told Plumbert again everything they had heard Tanest and Sardohan say.
A woman with a disease-ravaged face sat at the entrance to a hovel; she gave them a wicked stare and Bliss gave her a wide berth.
“I think it’s all to do with the drug Yeccozin,” said Bliss. “We have to stay here and investigate further.”
“Investigate further! Neither of you will be doing any such thing,” said Plumbert. “We’re going back to the Haverland embassy and then shortly we’ll catch a sailing vessel. You’ll be back with your parents within a fortnight, Bliss. Before that, your parents Aden, will have a letter reach them up in Novogorad telling them you’re safe.”
“But Plumbert,” protested Bliss. “This is important.”
Plumbert faced the friends. He withdrew his notebook from his tunic pocket and the pencil that went with it. He flipped open the notebook and proceeded to write down a few words.
“Look…” He flipped the notebook and showed them its pages.
See Thomas about this yecco whatsit drug stuff.
“We will let them whose job it is look into it. Agreed?”
Bliss pulled a long face. “Suppose so.”
“Ok.” said Aden without enthusiasm.
The three passed a troop of Dazarian soldiers escorting a bedraggled crowd of men. Plumbert said he thought ‘press-ganging’ was g
oing on but Aden didn’t have much time to think on it as Plumbert then told the friends the things that had happened in Haverland since they'd been put in prison.
“Both yer families are well, too,” he added. “If the prison hadn’t banned any sort of contact you would have seen them by now, they would have travelled all this humungous distance to visit you. They’ve been very worried.”
A lump formed in Aden’s throat.
“It’d have taken my parents about ten days to get down here from Novogorad and the same back. I wouldn’t have expected them to have wasted all their holiday each year just to make one meeting with me anyway,” he said. His voice croaked slightly. “Just knowing they were thinking of me was enough.”
Plumbert patted Aden on the shoulder.
“I reckon the Novogorad Ambassador would have given them special dispensation to visit you, if the Dazarians would have allowed it. However, the past few months up North have been so dangerous they wouldn’t have been able to. Those in the capital are safe, but movement outside is tricky. Don’t expect your parents to visit Haverland either, until the troubles lift.”
“What troubles?”
“Monsters, big hairy things: Bugbears they’re called. You’ve probably heard of them. Don’t normally foray far from the pine forests of the Icy North. Something’s stirred them.”
“Wow!” said Bliss. “Bugbears! My parents aren’t up in Novogorad, are they?” She asked, as an after-thought.
Plumbert frowned at her.
“Course not, they’re in Haverland.”
Bliss gave a brittle laugh.
“Damn. I’m sure my mum’s going to kill me for all this. Two years ago she agreed to let Aden and me take those jewels for Grimus Spalding with the words: ‘well he is an old man, with funny ways, and if you’re sure his agent will collect them from you at the harbour, I suppose it’ll be safe, and it'd be a great paid adventure for you too. You see Plumbert, we were never meant to take them into Dazarian proper,, just drop them off at the port.”
Plumbert’s mouth drew into a thin line. “From what I’ve heard, you did so because the agent didn’t turn up.”