Tales of a Horse Thief, Cycle 2 Part 7c
His clothes were ready for him when he arrived, he paid the balance he owed and left the tailor to finish opening their shop. It was still very early, many businesses were not open yet or they were just in the process of doing so. He had to wait a short while for the cobbler to open and then the man took his time about getting to business. Loden tried the boots on and was very happy with the feel of them. The proprietor however wanted to fix something he felt was not up to his standards and asked Loden to come back in an hour.
Loden went to the bakery, drawn by the good smells. The place was busy and most folks were stopping to talk and catch up on the local gossip. After waiting to be served he bought a meat pie and a dozen tarts. He went to the park where he had first appeared in the city, he sat and watched folks come and go as he at the pie.
He thought about the odd story the kitchen girl had told him earlier that morning. He did not really believe her, though as unlikely as her story sounded, he knew that the story he had told was just as unlikely. He also wondered, if her story was true, why was she working in the kitchen of a common inn?
When he returned to the cobbler his boots were ready. After paying the man he put his new footwear on, it felt good to have a solid pair of boots on his feet again. He thanked the man and walked around the local area looking for an outfitter. He had no luck, after making a couple of inquiries he was told the best place to find what he was looking for was at the docks. It seemed any of the docks would do, so being more familiar with the north end of the city he headed in that direction.
By the time he had walked up to the northwestern end of town he was feeling his new boots. On his way to the docks he saw the big Roburns Trading Company sign. He wondered how Dahlah was doing, surely the survivors from the caravan had arrived at the city by this point. It seemed likely most of their business would be on the south or east docks. He gave a mental shrug and headed to the Roburns warehouse.
On his way in he noted there was a slaughter house and fair sized stable over on the next peer. He wondered if they sold horses, other than for glue.
The Maldorn folks were busy, there was an airship docked above the warehouse and within there was all the activity one might expect at a successful import company. He approached a couple people speaking his own language and asked them where to go to equip himself for a journey. He followed their directions, ending up near the back end of the building, he found the area he was looking for and waited as a portly man in gaudy clothing finished his business.
There were plenty of goods available here, many articles were on display along the wall, some even hanging from the ceiling. There was a counter with a glass display case, within were many interesting items. The woman who served him was a freeholder, though she was dressed like most of the others. She bid him a pleasant good day and asked him what he wanted.
He bought a fair amount, including a nice looking pipe, quick-strikes, tobacco and all the necessities two people would need for a trip to Swampdon.
He considered a number of other items, but he thought it best to wait until he knew what he would be buying for horses. He felt it too early to buy food, even though the trading company offered different sorts of trail food, iron rations, even canned goods. He asked the woman, “So what’s the damage on all that?”
She glanced at the paper she had been keeping her tally on and asked, “Marks or weight?”
“Weight, maybe jewellery.”
“Do you need it delivered or are you walking out with this?”
“Ah. Delivered would be best. I’m staying at Trammellor Inn, not far from the temples near the North Market.”
She made a note, “Name?”
“Loden or Asta, room three.”
“Do you want it right away or can we include it in our other deliveries?”
“Within the next day or two would be fine.”
“Alright, was there anything else?”
“Not right now. I may be back though.”
“So that comes to ninety-five silver weight or three gold weight.” She looked at him expectantly.
He had a bit over that in weight coins and other bits and pieces but did not want to leave himself without pocket money. He pulled out an Eldra ring, “What’s this worth to you?”
She looked at it, “Do you have an assayer’s appraisal?”
“No, but I’d call it even. I’m sure that’s worth a fair bit more than three gold weight.”
She frowned and then gave an apologetic smile, “I’ll just have to get my manager. I can’t accept this just on my say-so, though I think you’re right about it being worth more than three gold.” She went over to the door behind the counter, opened it and said, “Gavi, can you get Eulla for me? Thanks.”
“She’ll be a moment.”
Loden gave a nod, “Alright. Meat tart?”
“No thanks.”
Loden ate a couple of the tarts while he waited, even though he was not really hungry. A while later an elegant woman stepped through the door, she was very attractive. Loden immediately felt on edge but tried to dismiss the feeling. The lady that had been serving him showed the woman the ring, “The gentleman offered this on a bill of three gold weight.”
Eulla took the ring, looked at it, gave Loden a curious glance, then said to the other woman, “Dol, take a smoke break.”
“Yes miss.”
When they were alone the woman asked him, “Is this stolen?”
“No.”
“Do you have anything else like this?”
“If there’s a problem I can pay with weight.”
“No, no problem.”
“Then we have a deal.”
“Well, I’d guess this is worth three or four times what you’re purchasing.”
“Well, I was looking at that flask,” He pointed at the item on display in the glass counter, “and I did like the look of that tobacco pouch, the one with the horses.”
“Sure, I’d feel better about the exchange with those added. I’ll even fill the pouch for you. Have you tried the Wikkersak Bluegrass?”
“No, but that sounds good.”
She added the items to his tally, and then made a copy. She passed him the piece of paper, Loden was surprised by how thin it was, he stuffed it in his coin pouch. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. Did you want to take any of this with you now?”
“The pouch of tobacco, the pipe and a box of quick-strikes. The rest of it can be delivered.”
“Excellent. I hope the rest of your day goes well.”
“You too.” Loden headed out. His feet were sore, but he went to the neighbouring peer to talk to someone about horses.
“Riding animals?”
“Yeah, if you have any.”
“Not at the moment, but if I know what you’re looking for I can get you what you need. Within a day or two.”
“Where are the livestock markets?”
“Mostly the East Docks, if you’re looking for quality horses you should go to the Tannican District. There’s a fellow there by the name of Gor Shardarahn. He has the finest stables in the city.”
“That’s a good lead. Thanks.”
“Take care then.”
“Right. Good day.”
He walked back up to the street that ran along the docks, he stopped at a tavern to have a drink and smoke. So far the day had gone smoothly. Other than food and horses he did not think there was anything else he could get ahead of time. It would still be over an eight-day before his ammunition was ready. That gave him plenty of time to try and convince Asta that heading east was a safer option than going towards the Tannican armies. He suspected that Asta was not going to be steered from her course, she would go where she felt the goddess was directing her, regardless of the peril of the path.
He had a second mug of mead before making his way back. By this point his feet were really sore, he took his time walking to the inn. He noted that he was being followed. A man with a trim beard wearing an odd floppy hat, recently dyed a burgundy colour, had been at the tavern and on the peer when he was inquiring about the horses. Loden considered the North Market, it was not far ahead of him and would offer plenty of opportunities to lose the man, though he suspected his feet were nearly raw from walking too much with his new boots. Instead he took the next left onto a side street and walked into the first shop.
He found himself in a small boutique selling a wide array of religious icons of all sorts. There was a small window by the door, displaying a number of figurines, the proprietor greeted him pleasantly, Loden kept an eye on the street outside.
“Good day, my lord. Are you looking for something for the family altar?”
Loden glanced at the older woman, “Ah, no, not so much so, no.”
“Ah, some gift? Perhaps for a lover?”
Loden spotted the floppy-hat-guy go past the shop. He turned to the woman and passed her the amply breasted figurine he had picked up, “Sorry, have to run.”
He darted outside and came up behind the man that had been following him, “Hey, fuck-face.”
Startled, the man turned around, Loden punched him in the nose. The man collapsed with a pained cry. Loden bent over and took the knife from the mans belt and tossed it aside, “Do I have your attention, sir?”
“Fuck you!”
Loden stepped on the man’s hand, this elicited another cry of pain, “How about now?”
“Alright, fuck!” Blood ran freely from the man’s nose.
“Unless you want me to do much worse to you, I’d suggest you find another mark. Understand?”
The man was quick to agree, nodded his head and grimaced in pain. Loden removed his foot from the hand, it was tempting to give the man a kick to reinforce the point but he decided to show some mercy. Instead he walked away, giving the onlookers a quick nod as he departed.
Loden was not sure he liked GreensBridge much, too many thieves.
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