Ashelmarring

This was the city.

She’d heard it talked about. She’d known people who’d been here, even people who had come from here, but she’d never set foot inside the walls. And now, passing through one of the great gates, she was in the shadows of those same walls, resisting an urge to flinch a little from the layers of noise and dust. There were so many voices, all competing with each other, and the clarry of horses’ hooves, mixed with the turning of wheels, a relentless supply of footsteps.

Jadda refused to let herself stare; then at the same time found that she just couldn’t stop herself from staring. The streets were rivers of people, and they moved with that same inexorable flow; their individual tasks and preoccupations subsumed beneath its greater, subtle purpose.

“There are just over 200,000 people here,” Kin said, clearly noticing her interest, looking as if he were trying to decide whether to be amused by it or not.

“They didn’t have to all come out at once.”

“You should see this place on a festival night.”

“You have?”

“Yes. Lit up like the stars. The king and queen rode out down the main road, they were carrying coloured fire and looked like they were throwing it into the crowd.”

“But…?”

“It was a trick. It was just scraps of fabric, catching in the firelight. But it looked real in the dark, with everyone drunk and excited. I suppose that was only a couple of years ago to these people. When Dreok and I got off that boat.”

Dreok and Kinsom. She refused to let that go. She might not have a word to say out loud, but she nursed the truth, determined that Dreok was going to hear it – either from Kin or from her. Let him judge if this was his friend or not, judge if he should be embraced or punched in the face.  “It’s going to be hard enough to find him. I don’t even know where we’d start, maybe we should ask at the marketplace.”

“Pick one.”

“Why? How many are there?”

“About twenty, I think.”

“One must be the main one.”

“Not really.”

“Well. Closest to the palace then.”

“You’d love to see that. It’s beautiful, and it’s alive with activity. You don’t know who you might catch a glimpse of. Well, a sleeve, or a toe, or something.”

“I’m not here for that.”

“Well, I’m not sure how well we’d fit in anyways at the Castle Square Market. There’s mostly the wealthy and servants of the wealthy that shop there. We’ll have better luck if we go to the West Mart.”

“For all you know, Dreok’s wealthy now. You heard what they said about him at Two Rivers.”

Kin walked beside her, he sometimes looked as if he wanted to reach an arm out to touch her shoulder, as if he wanted to guide her, but wasn’t sure he dared. He glanced around, never keeping his eyes quite still. “There’ll be pickpockets everywhere, be warned.”

“Well, our pockets will disappoint them. We might have enough left for a few nights at an inn, then we’ll have to trust our luck to the streets.” The city was so big, she didn’t know where she would start if they had to stay awhile. A room. A job. But what could a country girl offer a place like this, so paved, so tall, with such a cacophony of people, all different heights and colours, boldly or sedately dressed, furtive or vibrant? No idea who was who.

Well, Kin had spent time here before, maybe he could find them something.  She asked him, “How long is it going to take us to find Dreok?”

“No idea.”

“But you can feel him? Do that sense thing you did before?”

“I think so, but it’s too cluttered right now. I can feel too many things. We’ll try at night, when its dark and everyone’s gone home. Or mostly home. It’s never quite dark or quiet.”

Jadda could believe that. She believed it all over again when they reached the marketplace Kin referred to as West Mart. It was a huge thing. It could have been its own village. There were so many stalls, so many parked carts and bright, spread blankets. There were layers of stalls, some raised on platforms with rickety steps leading up. A few permanent shops formed a square around the billowing, bright-coloured tents and canopies.

There must be everything here.

She didn’t want to, but she looked straight to Kin. “Where do we start?”

He was eyeing the market, and a small smile touched his face. “I recognize somebody.”

“I assume not my brother.”

“Not him. No. Somebody who knew him.”

Jadda felt that intensification of her heart-beat. She’d missed Dreok for so many years, for most of them not even really quite knowing how much she missed him. She followed Kin now, threading through the crowd, nervous that she might lose her companion amongst them, and if she did, really, how was she ever going to find him again?

They washed up at the skirts of a dancing girl. A stilt-dancer, whose dress flowed below her feet, covering stilts that made her about nine feet tall - a dress of bright patchwork, using shards of glass or pottery, and scraps of copper, to make the skirts shine as she twirled around.

“Nolla!”  Kin called out.

She looked down, brow furrowing.

“Kinsom,” he supplied for her.

Jadda felt that shiver over her shoulders but resisted the need to correct.

“Oh. Yes. Yes.” And she jumped down off those stilts with such agility, with such a light landing, that Jadda felt like she ought to clap.

“This is Jadda,” Kin said quickly, he jumped into an embrace with the girl, and then stepped back and introduced Jadda all over again.

“Pleased to meet you,” she held out a hand.

The girl grinned. “But I know who you are.”

“You do?”

“Dreok’s sister.”

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t remember what name he said, but I can see the resemblance. You look enough like your brother than it identifies you.”

“Well, that’s not a bad thing, is it?” Kin said, “He’s all right, isn’t he?”

Nolla shrugged.

“He’s in the city.”

“No doubt. Oh, Kinsom, this is a big city. I see Dreok going about now and then, and as far as I know he’s well. But we don’t live in each other’s pocket, and I think maybe he’s set his sights on a finer life. You know how he is.”

Jadda pressed, “But when did you last see him?”

“A few months ago. And in passing,” she squeezed Jadda’s hand, “But he was fine then. He was drinking with a bunch of friends, and they were all the worse for it, but he looked like he was enjoying himself, he looked like he was getting on. Does he know you’re in town?”

“No. We’ve come looking for him.”

And Kin interjected, “Do you know where he lives?”

“Not exactly. Somewhere out near Lavadale Road.”

Kin raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Somewhat lordly.”

“Really?” She didn’t know her way around, not even a little bit.

“Not exclusively. But still… it sounds as if he’s doing well enough.”

Jadda wanted to see for herself, and it all felt so close. She wanted to grab Kin by the arm and start dragging him that way. But Kin was reminiscing with Nolla now, and there was a touch of intimacy about it. She wasn’t sure she cared that much for Kin’s feelings – you killed at least part of my brother, and you exiled my friend to that evil forest – but she reminded herself to be polite.

Behind her, a man was playing some sort of pipe, and when he did, a white, rat-like animal scurried off his shoulders and started to dance. It was a strange creature, with long limbs and a tail, and it could stand almost upright and move like a man, it had a squashed, grinning face with a bold jaw. It made her think of actual old men she’d known.

The little beast had been dressed in a green waistcoat and had bells around its ankles. It danced so that the bells rang in time with the man’s pipe. And when it was done it scrambled up on the man’s shoulders again to steal his hat. The man kept playing. He watched in satisfaction as the creature ran through the crowd, holding the hat out, seeking donations. It found its way over to Jadda, and sat down in front of her, head tilted, hat held out.

“We don’t have much,” she protested, “I’m sorry little friend.” But she had a copper coin she could spare, and a small chunk of leftover cheese. Did such a think even eat cheese? And would the musician think her single scrap of copper cheap or insulting?

From behind her, Kin said, “It’s a monkey.”

“Huh?”

“That little animal. You’d have to cross the Orange Sea to see one living wild though.”

“It looks like an ugly little boy.”

“Huh. Well, I guess it does. Be careful. Some of their handlers train them to pick pockets as well as to beg.”

Jadda shook her head, “He’s a good dancer, he earned the coin. Would he eat a piece of a cheese?”

Kin shrugged. “Maybe. Are you hungry?”

“Perhaps.”

“Come with me, I know where we can get the best pies in the city.”

#

Jadda was willing to admit, however grudgingly, that the cart parked in a corner of the marketplace really did offer some of the most flavoursome and exotic pies she’d ever eaten. She was eating one that was a made with some kind of fish, paprika, yoghurt and mix of nuts and seeds. Kin was munching on a combination of beef and tomato with a rainbow of spices. He was totally immersed in it.

“Been years,” he apologized between bites.

There was always entertainment. If it wasn’t a girl like Nolla, it might be tumblers; or poets; a juggler; or fluttering, coloured birds. All competing for the few spare coins shoppers might have to offer. Jadda wondered at how these people could all make a living, even as she watched a thin woman with an even thinner cat – it twisted around her neck like a scarf, coiling like a snake, all fluid and boneless. Further back she saw the bright colours and brave flesh of the city’s whores making their way further into the marketplace as the sun set.

“We can’t afford a room on Lavadale Road,” Kin said, “But I think I know somewhere that might be cheap enough.”

“How cheap?” Jadda narrowed her eyes with suspicion.

“Not quite that cheap. And it’ll do for the night.”

And what say we don’t find Dreok tomorrow?

But she followed Kin as he set off. One way or another, she’d come too far, and left too much behind, to imagine giving up now.

#

The night fell on Ashelmarring quickly. The houses – some two or three storeys high – were built a little wider with each floor, so that they seemed to curve in over the streets, quenching the moonlight, and creating ribbons of darkness. The cobbles became tripping hazards, and the streets quickly became nearly empty.

But they weren’t alone. Jadda could hear footsteps behind them, and occasionally caught movement or a flicker of a shadow.

She looked at Kin.

He nodded, slowly.

Fine. We’re being followed. But what are you suggesting we’re going to do about it? She’d heart stories about gangs of street thugs roaming the streets of the big cities. Some of them managing to establish their own little kingdoms. Dormant by day, they emerged into the night, seeking out tardy travellers and careless drunks.

“Just around the corner,” Kin promised.

And maybe it was. Jadda could see a sign hanging above a door that might denote an inn or tavern, and there was light coming from within. But ahead of it the little clot of men stood waiting. And when she turned, she could see there were more, starting to move up behind them now.

There were ten men.

Jadda had her dinner knife with her, and that was about it.

Kin had bigger knives, forged in that forest. They were chunky and toothy; but Jadda wondered how sharp or strong they’d be.

Kin was stepping out now, in front of the ones who’d intercepted them. “I wouldn’t if I were you. The girl’s with me.”

One of them laughed. He had about half a mouth of teeth. He asked Kin, “I don’t suppose you know how to count, do you?”

And another joined him, “we don’t need the girl,” he slid closer, eyeing Jadda, “you can run off if you want, missy, we’re not after you.”

“We don’t have money,” Jadda promised. “Just a bit. You can have it…”

“Never mind that.” This one was tall and wiry, his face had been burnt at some point, quite badly, and his grey hair suggested he might be older than he seemed at a glance. “You can keep that too. But your man comes with us.”

Jadda and Kin exchanged glances.

“Why would I?” he demanded.

“Because you’ll come, dragged or walking, one way or another.”

“I’m not worth anything.”

“Wrong.” The grey-haired one’s face opened up into a huge, raucous cackle, “I could smell you three blocks away, my friend.”

Another shadow swam across the road, haloed by the light of a lantern. This figure might or might not be tall, but with the angle of the light his shadow made a giant of him. “So could I,” he said, “long before you lot got a whiff. Tell Hedrian to keep his hands off, I’m keeping this one for myself.”

Time froze. Ten men. Two travelers, prey. A newcomer, an unknown entity.

But not to Kin, he stared straight past the thugs, his eyes made little moons in the light. He took a few moments to finally find his voice, then what he said was: “Dreok.”

 

Picture credit/discredit: author's own work