The Two Artefact Discs: Azabar's Icicle Part 1

by Jem I Kelley

  “Stand still!”

  The man marched towards them. “Not back from that Jail for five minutes and now you’re picking on girls of refined upbringing? God; if that damn Wall isn’t correct in what it says about you.”

  “Bliss certainly is aggressive,” said Alicia, suddenly acting shy and innocent in front of Hacknor. “I always thought the Wall a vicious source of gossip. Now, I consider it an unfortunately good judge of character.”

  Aden felt a wave of injustice sweep through him. This wasn’t the Wall being right about the way Bliss acted; rather, Bliss acted in a certain way because of the way Alicia treated her after reading the Wall. The writings on its surface about Bliss being a troublemaker were becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy.

  “We...” began Bliss to Hacknor.

  “No explanations!” said the market foreman. He inspected the two friends with distaste, “I don’t want to hear it. You two are going to come to my office.”

  “I'm sorry about this, Miss Alicia,” said Hacknor in a fawning manner.

  “Please,” said Alicia, sweetly. “Don't punish them on my account.”

  “I'll be the judge of that,” said Hacknor, before turning his attention to Aden and Bliss. “Come on you two. Follow me.”

  Bliss and Aden exchanged helpless looks before following the gaunt man away from the Wall.

  Chapter 22: Hacknor

  Hacknor’s office clung to the edge of the market; a bleak brick building which displayed all the charm of its owner. The market supervisor marched up to the entrance, unlocked the lock and heaved at the door.

  “Follow me.”

  He strode in like a man on a mission, and Aden and Bliss followed meekly. This is not what they thought their first day back to Haverland would be like.

  The room’s walls were drab, grey, and the furniture was sparse and utilitarian. A pockmarked oaken desk dominated the centre of the space and Hacknor sat himself down in the chair behind it. He flicked through a sheaf of official looking documents for a moment, deliberately ignoring the two friends.

  Aden stared at the wall behind Hacknor's head. There hung various invitations Hacknor had presumably received to society functions over the years. Aden knew that the man worshipped anyone of standing who appeared the least bit friendly towards him, and it seemed the rare occasion a Lord or Duke invited him to a minor event, he’d proudly display the invitation on the wall.

  Hacknor lifted his gaze from the documents before him and cast a baleful look, first to Aden and then to Bliss.

  “You two might have thought you were clever taking jewels into the city for Grimus Spalding after being told by both me and him you were not to leave the ship. I think you were being foolish and disobedient. Your spell in prison is nothing more than you deserve for such actions. Unfortunately, not everyone in Haverland sees it my way. Every do-gooder plagued Grimus and me for telling your guardians it would be safe to go on the journey. Two years of hard stares and mutters, just because you idiots wouldn’t do what you were told.”

  It occurred to Aden that if they’d done as they were told today, and gone straight to the market; they might have met Hacknor under more favourable circumstances.

  “Now,” continued Hacknor, “I’d love to get rid of you from the market…”

  “But… .” said Bliss.

  “Shut up and listen Todd! I’d like to get rid of you from the market, and my opinion has been reinforced by your actions just now. You are almost adults, and adults should not talk and act the way I just saw you act.”

  “No,” said Bliss, “I’m sorry, but… ”

  “I said shut up and listen. Now, I’d like to dismiss you as porters and make sure you never get a pitch on the market. However, no ‘bleeding heart’ in the city would forgive me for it. Therefore, what I will do is give you plenty of unpaid work to do, as punishment, for the trouble you’ve caused me in the last two years. The early morning shift helping the stall-holders set-up, and the late afternoon shift, will do.”

  Bliss looked appalled.

  “Two shifts!”

  “Two junior shifts,” replied Hacknor. “Eight hours that’s all. I do ten every a day, Monday to Friday.”

  “Unpaid!”

  “I expect, young Todd, you’ll be telling your friends of the horrible Dazarian prison and how you coped like heroes. Given that, you won’t be hardshipped by two measly shifts instead of the usual one. Keep your noses clean and you’ll be on normal paid shift patterns in two month’s time. Got it?”

  Bliss and Aden nodded. They couldn’t refuse Hacknor, not if they wanted to progress from being porters to getting their own pitch selling goods on the market.

  “I said, got it? I can’t hear you.”

  “Yes,” muttered the friends in sour tones.

  “What about the Tuesday morning schooling?” asked Aden thinking about the once a week lessons enjoyed by Haverlander children.

  “You can miss the Tuesday morning early shift and attend your classes as normal. I expect...,” and Aden thought Hacknor made a point of looking at Bliss, “...you’ll need to work hard to catch up. Also, don’t think about going to the Thursday Disc-man academy training. You missed the first year, and there’s no way they’ll let you in now.”

  Aden felt a wave of injustice sweep through him.

  “I thought you’d say that.”

  “It’s not fair,” said Bliss, “Couldn't we just join a class with this year’s entrants?”

  “Not fair? This is the fairest country in the world. One morning a week schooling from the age of five, part-time work if you want it until you’re an adult, chance of apprenticeships, gruel handouts for every poor family, a chance to be a disc-man if you’ve not been up to other things. Not fair! You should try living in one of the other godforsaken nations in this world! Get out of here, before I give you three whacks with my shoe!”

  Aden and Bliss trudged into the market. Bliss kicked at a stone on the floor sending it bouncing off the pavement.

  “Bloody Hacknor! The man’s an idiot! Punishment! Doesn’t two years in jail count?”

  Aden couldn’t have agreed more.

  “Two shifts of unpaid work. We won’t even have spare time to do jobs for Grimus.”

  “And now everyone’s disappeared. Where are they?” said Bliss, looking around and seeing the stalls on the edge of the market unoccupied, “and where’s this person we’ve got to meet?”

  “Don’t know, let's head towards the central stalls.”

  Chapter 23: Welcome Home

  They walked on. With the afternoon sun warming them and familiar (but empty) stalls passing on either side, Aden decided two shifts wouldn’t be so bad; it wasn’t for ever.

  “That girl got right up my nose,” said Bliss.

  Aden pictured the encounter at the Wall and nodded. Then it hit him what had made him wary of the girls from the off. There was a greyness to their skin, and the whites of their eyes held a tint of yellow. The colouring was subtle enough not to have reached his conscious mind immediately. Yet it had been there, he was sure of it, and it could only mean the girls were of the same origin as Kesskran and the others who now ruled Dazarian. How many people of Dazarian ruling stock would be in Haverland, he thought, and the answer came to him – not many.

  “Could they have have been Sardohan’s daughters?” he asked, explaining the reason for his suspicions to Bliss.

  Bliss stopped in her tracks, to face him.

  “Maybe. Yes. They did have that look, didn't they. Is it my imagination Aden, or were they deliberately trying to annoy me?”

  “Trying to annoy you like experts, I think. I heard the ‘slow’ bit too. You’ll have every idiot in Haverland put slow somewhere in what they say over the next few weeks, because of what’s carved onto the Wall. They know you’ll know they’re saying it, but they know you’ll look silly if you start trying to complain.”

  “Stuff ‘complain’; I’ll punch their lights out.”

  “Don’t f
orget the bit on the Wall about you being a troublemaker too.”

  Bliss looked worried, and then forced a smile.

  “Perhaps it’s right. What shall I do?”

  “You’re going to have to ignore them.”

  “I’d still rather punch out their lights....”

  Bliss paused mid-sentence. The two had reached the centre of the market. They shouldn’t have heard each other with the noise of all the trading, except no noise existed. An empty market stretched out before them: unmanned stalls and no customers. In fact, realized Aden, the stalls were covered in cloth: odd.

  “I don’t like this,” said Bliss.

  Aden felt a chill and wondered what emergency could have made all the traders pack up and leave in a hurry.

  “It’s weird. No-one around, yet Sergeant Plumbert said go here.”

  “What shall we do?”

  “Hamble’s place is just around the corner.”

  “Bliss Todd!” said a voice.

  The friends swung their heads left and Bliss’s mother appeared from behind a stall. She approached them.

  “What in heavens name were you doing when you left that ship two years ago?”

  Aden swallowed.

  “We….” began Bliss.

  “I’ve never heard of anybody doing anything so stupid in all my life.”

  Aden felt himself tremble. Martha Todd appeared to be building herself up for a tirade. She marched up to them and planted her feet firmly.

  “Luckily for you,” she said, her finger wagging at them both, “I used up all my anger over this, months ago.”

  “Surprise!” said a voice and the two turned.

  They saw Bliss’s dad; he’d materialized from behind another stall with a smile on his face. Other people appeared from hiding places too. There were Bliss’s grandparents, Ernie Hobbs, Hamble, Ted the baker, Weever, Saib Isbar, Gaves the undertaker, Mack Porter, Goodman Hale, Charlotte Able. More and more appeared. Firecrackers were thrown, people were cheering and Aden felt a large lump in his throat. He exchanged weak smiles with Bliss, before hands slapped his back and ruffled his hair.

  Aden recovered to see Bliss’s cheeks become red; her mum had her in a hug so tight it looked as if she’d be squashed. She had tears in her eyes.

  “Come here you silly girl,” she said.

  “Welcome home!” shouted Mr. Todd above the din.

  Someone pulled the cloth from the stalls: lemonade bottles stood next to sausages on sticks, pickled onions beside chicken drums, and much more.

  The welcome home party began.

  Chapter 24: Dreams of Discs

  “Thanks Ted,”

  Aden pushed the trolley away from the baker, towards the market. The man, dusty with flour, waved and returned to his ovens. The trolley squeaked every other second, as if a mouse lived in the wheel.

  The warmth of the fresh baked loaves kept Aden's hands pink, and their smell invigorated his nose. Breathing out streams of mist into the cold morning air, and having nice smelling loaves under your nose were top experiences; at least, if you’d just spent two years in a smelly hot prison, they were.

  He handed out loaves to traders who’d set-up stalls and now wanted a bite of breakfast before they began to trade.

  “Thanks, Aden.”

  “Good on you, Son.”

  “Here have a penny for your troubles, glad you’re back.”

  Aden pocketed the penny and put it under the handkerchief in his pocket. He and Bliss owned a score between them now, everyone on the market (except Hacknor) felt sorry for them.

  It was great to be home and he hoped he’d soon forget about Dazarian and prisons. Last night, for the first time since he’d returned, he didn’t wake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat from a nightmare.

  “Ere, I think I’ll have one of them,” said a voice. Plumbert appeared from behind him and lifted a fresh loaf. “Ted won’t mind will he?”

  Aden frowned.

  “I thought you were here to stop thieving, not practise it.”

  Plumbert put the loaf in his pocket, brought out a half-penny and gave it to Aden.

  “Got bigger things to worry about than stolen bread. How you been getting on? Two weeks isn’t it?

  “Two weeks of backbreaking work and early mornings I think will freeze my fingers off.”

  “Oh, like that is it? I’ll take you back to Dazarian if you like.”

  Aden laughed. “If you can catch me, you might, Sergeant. From sleeping on a soft mattress at night, to being able to walk about free during the day, it’s all been great.”

  He could have mentioned the nightmares; but, thought it best not to bother the Sergeant.

  Plumbert rubbed his hands together and blew on them.

  “Yes, nothing like cold Haverland early mornings is there after coming from a desert. Is everything O.K. at the Todds?”

  Aden nodded.

  “Took me a few days to get used to the granddad’s bickering again. Can’t fault Bliss’s mum’s cooking.”

  “Good and what about this lot?” Plumbert jerked a thumb around the market. “Not bothering you too much for tales from Dazarian?”

  “As if. Only get pulled aside about an hour a day now, rather than six; repeated every story I’ve told fifty times. I’ve had so many slaps on my back it’s raw.”

  “Sounds like everything’s just about as it should be.”

  “Just about.”

  “Not bothered about them stories on the Wall?”

  Aden shrugged. He was, but he could live with it.

  “It’ll pass. Most people know the Wall prints gossip and lies.”

  “Good,” said Plumbert. “Now I ain’t here just to exchange idle chat. I came by this route special like. Inspector Thomas’s told me Sardohan’s dropped the case against you and Bliss.”

  Aden was shocked.

  “I thought he was desperate to get the Discs back.”

  “So did I. Apparently not. Which in itself is strange. Anyway. Come by the station tomorrow morning and I’ll know by then whether the local magistrates have decided to call them treasure trove. If so, you’ll get one back in reward. Don’t get your hopes up though, young shaver, and you won’t be disappointed.”

  Straight after the first shift, Aden told Bliss, and they both told Bliss’s family.

  Granddad Todd looked at Bliss and Aden, through rheumy eyes. “Having an artefact Disc is having a chance for riches, adventure and fame all in one go. Even if it’s a slim chance; it’s a chance only a few get nowadays.”

  Bliss’s mother’s father, Grandfather Eavis, chuckled.

  “It’s like having a Haverland lottery ticket. But a heck lot better. Because you’ve got about, one in a hundred chance of connecting to a different world wiv a disc, against one in who knows what of winning the lottery.”

  “We don't actually own either of the artefact Discs yet,” said Bliss. “Anyway, even if the court does award us one back. We’ll probably end up with a tested dud. Why else would Sardohan give up without a fight?”

  Granddad Todd massaged his bony chin.

  “Maybe it’ll be a dud maybe not. In the old days I reckon even live ‘uns could have been pinched from Haverland, before security got beefed up. Perhaps ol’ Tanest got his grubby hands on a bunch of they? If old Thimblerack the magistrate does award you one, you paid any thought as to how you’re going to find out whether it is a dud?”

  The whole family squeezed together in the Todd’s cramped living room. All told there were Granddad and Grandma Todd, Grandfather and Grandmother Eavis, Mr and Mrs Todd, Bliss and Aden.

  The clickety click of Martha Todd’s knitting filled the air.

  Bliss lounged on the threadbare carpet; Aden rested with his back to the faded paint of the wall. On the way home they’d discussed the possibility the courts would award them an artefact Disc and by a strange quirk it would work. In fact, that’s pretty much all they had talked about.

  “We thought we’d pay a dis
c-man. It’s their job to test discs, after all.”

  Granddad Todd’s thin face worked itself into a frown.

  “You ain’t got any money. Not any worth speaking about. A few dozen pennies won’t do it.”

  The friends had thought of funding too.

  “We thought we’d pay them afterwards if it worked. Give them a cut of the profits.”

  “Give ‘em a cut eh?” said Granddad Todd. “With a crown disc, half the profits made from trade with other worlds goes to it, and half to the disc-man who tested the artefact which led there. Means you’d have to offer at least fifty-percent of any profits you’d make, to tempt a disc-man. Then you still have to pay the crown a quarter of any profits you make. That’s what it is, a quarter, for privately owned discs, not that there’s ever been any. But the rules is there if it happens. A quarter profit. Won’t leave too much left for you.”

  Aden found himself crossing his hands in front of his chest, annoyed at the granddad’s negativity.

  “A quarter is what it would leave for us. That’s not to be sniffed at.”

  “The kingdom also pays fer the expeditions; cost of building embassies and trade centres on the other side. Where are you going to get the money from to pay all that, credit from a bank? It’d have to be a lot of credit.”

  “What are you getting at?” said Aden, “We should sell any artefact Disc awarded us, back to the King?”

  Granddad Todd waved his stick-like arms in a gesture designed to defuse the situation.

  “Calm down. I’m not getting at anything, just making you think. If you sold the disc, you might get five gold un’s from the King, but not much more. He already has loads of untested artefacts.”

  Grandfather Eavis who’d sat and watched the conversation until this point, stirred his rotund frame. He spoke with a wheeze to his voice.

  “You could sell the artefact to a rich merchant. Long as it’s to a Haverland person, I think it’s still legal. Someone with more money than sense might risk twenty or thirty sovereigns. That’s plenty of money, ain’t it Todd?”