The Two Artefact Discs: Azabar's Icicle Part 1

by Jem I Kelley

  “What’s the matter?”

  “My parents.”

  “They’ll be pleased to see you.”

  “Maybe, or maybe my mum’ll tell me off as soon as I step foot on the dockside - in front of everyone.”

  “No, it’ll be alright.”

  Chapter 20: Home at Last

  The Grey Hind docked at the end of a forest of masts and bobbing vessels. Sailors lowered the central gangplank and customs men approached; Sergeant Plumbert intercepted them.

  “Plumbert’s caught the customs men, like he said he would,” said Aden watching through the porthole: “can’t see your mum either.”

  Bliss was lying on the top bunk.

  “Thank goodness for that. I’d die of embarrassment if she told me off in front of everyone.”

  “I can’t see anyone we know, for that matter,” said Aden, with a tinge of disappointment. He thought somebody would have made the effort to welcome them home.”

  Plumbert finished his chat with the customs men and trotted up the gang-plank. Shortly afterwards, stocky dockers swarmed to carry items off, and the hold flaps were opened so hoists could haul crates and barrels to the dockside.

  The passenger gangplank eased down and Aden watched the other few fee-paying passengers disembark.

  “Quick, it’s Sardohan.”

  Bliss scrambled out of the bottom bunk and squeezed her face next to Aden’s. The Dazarian Ambassador stepped off the gangplank straight into two customs men. He held his nose firmly in the air as the men rifled through his personal luggage and patted his body.

  The customs men waved him on.

  Sardohan walked to a waiting carriage. Footmen accepted his luggage and helped him aboard; then the vehicle rattled off.

  Bliss stomped away from the porthole and threw herself back onto the top bunk.

  “Well, that’s the mastermind behind the drugs returning to the Dazarian Embassy. I hope when Inspector Thomas and Plumbert do arrest him, he has a long stay in one of our prisons.”

  A rap on the cabin door preceded Plumbert entering.

  “I’ve spoken to the customs men and they’ve let the caskets through unchecked so as not to arouse suspicion we know about the drugs. I’ll watch next to see where the caskets are taken. If this is handled in the right way, we can nab the whole racket.”

  Aden closed the porthole shutter.

  “Can we watch when you do?”

  Plumbert looked reluctant, much to Aden’s annoyance.

  “You wouldn’t know about the drugs if we hadn’t told you.”

  Plumbert grimaced and his grey eyes rolled.

  “Look, I’ll ask Inspector Thomas to see what he says. You’d have to hang around at the back of any police operation, mind: can’t risk you getting into danger.”

  Bliss whooped. “Brilliant!”

  Plumbert put up his hand.

  “Listen, this is important and I’ve got to go now. I’ll be taking both artefacts to the Inspector. In a week or so we should discover the exact charges Sardohan has brought against you. Don’t worry about it.”

  Aden nodded.

  “We won’t.”

  Plumbert smiled.

  “You’ve been right brave throughout all this. I’d be proud to have you as policemen on my beat, lads. Now, I’ve got to watch where these caskets go. I expect you want to get home. Before you do, go to the market. Don’t dawdle on your way. There’s someone who wants to see you before you do anything else, and will be annoyed if you’re late.”

  “Who?”

  Plumbert winked.

  “You’ll see. Just promise me you’ll go straight there? We all know what you’re both like for not doing exactly what you’re told.”

  Bliss spoke up from where she lay on the top bunk.

  “We promise.”

  “Good.”

  Plumbert left and headed towards the gangplank.

  The time came to disembark. Aden felt overwhelmed by excitement, anticipation and foreboding. Two years since he’d seen Haverland. How would it feel to be back?

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  A salty breeze hit his face; seagulls squawked overhead, sails flapped. The dockside was familiar but had changed in 2 years: new sheds to the right, larger hoists in place, the whaler warehouse gone.

  At the top of the passenger gangplank stood Captain Hall. He watched them as they approached.

  “Hello you two.”

  Aden wondered what the man wanted. Perhaps he was going to tell them if they were going to travel on his ship again, they’d better board her the proper way.

  “Hello Captain.”

  Hall regarded them with a kindly expression.

  “Thank you for not complaining about your isolation during the voyage.”

  This wasn’t what Aden expected.

  “No problem, a cabin is nothing compared to Dazarian jails.”

  Captain Hall regarded them both for a moment as if he wanted to say something but felt uncomfortable in doing so. Aden had stepped on the gangplank, by time the man spoke.

  “Don’t worry about Sardohan’s complaints to the authorities; I can’t see how you broke any of Haverland’s laws by returning stolen artefacts to the country. What I would say to you is - I wish I could say I retrieved stolen artefacts from Lord Kesskran’s associate’s secret store-room, myself! Good on you both! Welcome back to Haverland.”

  Aden wondered if Bliss felt the same shock at the praise, that he did. Taking a glance, he realized his friend’s jaw had dropped. Aden thanked Captain Hall, and then gave Bliss a tug to get her started down the gangplank.

  Customs checks over, the friends entered the dock proper. It bustled: dockers pushed trolleys and shouted, hoists creaked and crates swung; seagulls squawked and swooped for scraps of food. The air swam with smells: fish, timber, fruit and alcohol.

  They weaved their way towards the exit when Bliss stopped and shouted.

  “Hey, it’s Grimus!”

  An old man, lined face, turned to stare. Recognition lit up his features.

  “Bliss... and... Aden too! I’d heard you were coming back soon…”

  Grimus stood beside a strapping fellow who heaved Daz-Ale barrels onto a wagon. The old jeweller spread his arms and looked the friends up and down.

  “You’ve grown so much, you’re almost adults now.”

  His old face sobered.

  “But what you went through… it’s a wonder you coped.”

  Aden felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

  “Probably not as bad as you think.”

  “Trading in booze now?” said Bliss.

  The man lifting the barrels paused; his arms were thick with muscle and sinew. He stared at the friends through small eyes. Grimus too regarded the children through hooded eyes, for a moment, then shrugged.

  “I always had the Daz-Ale import business. After the loss of the jewels it’s became my main trade.”

  There followed an awkward silence, which Bliss broke.

  “We’re sorry.”

  “We’ll pay it all back,” said Aden, “It’ll a take us a few years, but we’ll do it.”

  Grimus snorted, and waved as if swatting an imaginary fly buzzing around his head.

  “It’s in the past, finished.”

  His assistant started stacking barrels again, and Bliss stepped nimbly out of the way.

  ‘In the past?’, ‘finished’? Aden’s head swam with Grimus’s words.

  “We shouldn’t have left the ship when your factor didn’t show those 2 years ago. Your orders had been to stay on put. It’s our fault robbers stole the jewels off us. We have to try to pay you back. What about all the people you owe money too?”

  Grimus smiled warmly.

  “Look, you were doing what you thought best. I’m the one who should be sorry. You were too young for the job of 'jewel' couriers. I should never have given that amount of responsibility to you. Forget about paying me back for their loss.”

  “But it must ha
ve cost you a fortune!” said Aden.

  “He said we don’t have to,” said Bliss nudging Aden.

  Grimus wizened face broke into grin.

  “Listen to your friend, Aden. Those jewels might have seemed like an awful amount of money to friends of your age. They were worth a lot, in fact. But I’d cleared my losses within nine months. Nine months, that’s nothing to the two years you both suffered.”

  Aden struggled for words.

  “T… thanks.”

  Grimus laughed.

  “Look I know your old market porter boss, Hacknor, is stingy and you want to save up for your own stall... so how about you work for me? Good money and no foreign trips?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Looking after the old jewellery shop each weekday afternoon. Like I said, the ale importing is my main trade now. I need someone to mind the shop whilst I’m on the docks.”

  Aden exchanged glances with Bliss.

  “We’d like to, but we can’t. It’s not just the money. To get a stall on the market means getting on the waiting list in the first place. Being a porter helps there.”

  “Ah,” said Grimus, his wrinkled old face breaking into a sympathetic smile. “Yes. Hacknor’s waiting list.”

  Aden shrugged.

  “That’s the way it works.”

  “I understand. Tell you what, you ever need a bit more money, and I’ll fix you up with the occasional job just to boost your stall-fund, okay?”

  Chapter 21: The Wall and The Girls

  They left the dockside and entered small streets. Cobbled stone paths took them past cottages with wooden shutters open to the warm air, where young children played on doorsteps.

  Business people caught in the concerns of the commercial world rushed by. Dressed in emerald or brown, wearing waistcoats and stubby hats. Merchants argued prices as they walked, taking deep breaths on long pipes,

  The two friends continued through the merchant quarter. Occasionally, in the distance, they saw older porters from the market; none crossed their path, or spotted them. The friends became ever more eager to reach the great central market, meet the mysterious person Plumbert said waited for them, and then to get to their homes.

  This central market sprawled at an intersection of the city's four quarters: where smoke from chimneys of the Merchant sector seeped into the salty alleys of the Harbour quadrant, and the crumbled buildings of the Poor quarters sat huddled close to the proud mansions that rose as the Rich district began.

  Bliss pulled Aden to one side, about 5 minutes distance from the Southern entrance to the market, where a lone solitary wall stood in the middle of a small cobbled square.

  “Not the Rumour Wall,” protested Aden, “Plumbert said go straight to the Market and no stops.”

  Bliss stared at the solitary wall, the sun reflected from its marble surface causing her to squint.

  “C'mon. Ten minutes, no more. So we know what’s been happening.”

  “But the Wall exaggerates and twists things.”

  “That just makes it funny.”

  The Wall stood centuries old, a product of sorcery. Somehow, it learned all of Haverland's news and then etched fresh inscriptions, daily, on its own marble-like surface. People thought it worked by magically listening to the gossip people spoke whilst standing near it; which meant, gossip being gossip, its engraved words were often inaccurate, spiteful, malicious, and of course, very readable.

  It caused so much petty trouble in the past that several attempts had been made to fence it off and brick up. However, the iron fences rusted and the wooden ones rotted; and the mortar of the containing brick walls turned to dust. The Wall was one result of sorcery determined to stay, not even the Amari had been able to remove it.

  A gaggle of girls laughed at one of the carved scripts on the right hand side of the wall, so Bliss approached the left. She chuckled. “Look at that,Aden” She said, pointing.

  ‘FRIENDS RETURN FROM TWO YEARS CRUEL IMPRISONMENT.’

  They both read the smaller carved letters beneath the headlines.

  ‘Aden Green and Bliss Todd are returning today since being cruelly imprisoned for two years: they had been framed for stealing Grimus Spalding’s jewels in Dazarian...’ It began.

  Aden and Bliss continued to read. They were impressed how the Wall's text touched on their bravery and went into grim detail on life in a Dazarian prison.

  Bliss laughed. “They don’t feed you on maggots and give you water collected from the sewers, though.”

  The two read on. The carved letters on the wall explained that Aden and Bliss were returning today on the Grey Hind along with the ambassador to Haverland. It wondered whether Sardohan would give them compensation for a crime many people thought they weren’t the perpetrators of.

  “As if!” muttered Bliss.

  Aden’s expression darkened.

  “Read the next bit.”

  ‘Bliss Todd’s parents are quite poor. With both sets of grandparents to support and Aden Green; whose own parents probably added as little materially to his welfare, as they contributed emotionally; Bliss Todd might have been encouraged by her father as to the value of just one or two of the jewels they carried on behalf of good merchant Spalding.’

  Bliss’s brow furrowed.

  “What rubbish is this?”

  “My parents do care for me too!” said Aden, though his voice sounded a little high in pitch. He felt a tightening in his throat, and swallowed awkwardly.

  Bliss nudged him. “What about this.”

  ‘After all,’ explained the carved script, ‘Bliss Todd has been in minor scrapes her whole life. The teachers in her class found her behind in understanding subjects and prone to emotional outbursts. In layman’s terms, said one unnamed source: this descendant from a slave family was slow and a troublemaker.’

  Bliss swung to face Aden, hands on hips, an expression of outrage across her dark features.

  “That’s not what people think is it?”

  Aden hesitated. Bliss could bird-call whistle better than the other kids. She could shoot stones from a catapult further than most and port more weight on the market than many boys her age. True though, in the classroom, she didn’t do well.

  “Who cares how you do in school. Anyway, you haven’t been in one for two years, so how can they say you’re slow now?”

  Bliss glowered.

  “Didn’t know they did then, I mean, who can bird-call better than me? I can tie good knots too. Troublemaker!? Who cares if I argued with old Snodgrass now and then? Everyone knows he picked on me! Nutty as a March hare too. It’s not as if I argue with everyone I meet.”

  “You’re the two who were in prison?” said a voice.

  Aden and Bliss turned to face the three girls who were further down the wall. It occurred to Aden they’d stopped speaking minutes ago to watch Bliss and himself.

  The tallest had a long nose and dark hair tied into a pony tail, the other girls were similar. Something about all three put Aden on edge, but what, he couldn’t fathom.

  “I’m Alicia,” she said, “nice to meet you.”

  “Er, Hi,” replied Aden, not recognizing her. Her posh cloths identified her as belonging to the Rich district.

  She brushed at her hair and smiled.

  “I’d love to be as brave and devious as you two.”

  The girls beside her giggled and put their hands to mouths.

  “Those jewels you stole must have been worth a rare fortune.”

  “I didn’t pinch them!” said Bliss. “The Wall’s got it wrong.”

  Alicia gave her a knowing look.

  “Of course the Wall has it wrong. Look, my father’s rich and I’ve been schooled in good taste. If you need advice on what cloths and articles to buy to make yourself look like a Lady, now that you’ve got all that money, then just find me. I’ll help you.”

  “Didn’t you hear her,” said Aden, “we didn’t steal those jewels. Now please, stop bothering us.”

  Al
icia’s face went frosty.

  “I’m only trying to help. I understand if you don’t want to admit the theft openly.”

  Aden felt himself going off this girl.

  “Look, we didn’t steal Grimus’s emeralds and we don’t want need your help in how to dress, but thanks anyway.”

  Alicia’s expression went so glacial that Aden felt his skin come out in goose bumps.

  “O.K. Sisters, let’s step back a few paces, turn around, and go slowly back to the Dazarian Embassy,” said Alicia.

  Aden groaned, he thought there’d been something familiar about her even though he hadn’t known what. Now it all came together. He suddenly realized who Alica was.

  “Yeah, get lost,” said Bliss. “You’re being annoying.”

  “Tut tut,” said Alicia, as the girls retreated a few paces. “We don’t want any trouble.”

  “Yeah, slow down,” said one of the other girls, causing her sisters to giggle. The girl said ‘slow’ deliberately, and she gave Bliss a superior look as she said it. Obviously they’d read the article about Bliss being a slow troublemaker.

  Aden noticed his friend form her hands into fists.

  “Are you trying to be funny?”

  Alicia showed her palms in an innocent gesture, whilst retaining a flint-like gaze.

  “Trying to be funny, how do you mean?”

  “The words you’re saying?”

  “What words?”

  “You know!”

  “We just said we were going back to the Embassy. Dear me, those two years in prison have made you paranoid.”

  Bliss raised her hands as if ready to fight and stepped forward a pace. “I’m not paranoid you ugly big-nosed bitch!” she said, causing Alicia to put her hand to her mouth in shock.

  “Bliss Todd!” thundered a voice.

  Alicia’s gaze flicked behind the friends, and her mouth stretched into a triumphant smile. With a sinking feeling, Aden turned to see the identity of the shouter.

  It was Jeremiah Hacknor, the Central Market Foreman, Aden & Bliss's boss when they'd worked on the market before their voyage to Dazarian those years ago. An ex-army Sergeant, the towering market foreman stared at them from deep set eyes, his sharp moustache quivering with indignation, his thin lips pressed tight together.