Enlightenment

CHAPTER FIVE

Once the large gold coin had been exchanged for a fist full of smaller ones, they settled with Chalmers, and he provided a deed that the bank agreed to hold for them—for a small fee. Everything the bank did was for a small fee. Even the changing of the large gold coin to smaller ones entitled the bank to keep a small portion. Prin didn’t dare ask for a mug of water.

Leaving the bank, they left Chalmers and made their way back to their new building, getting lost in the confusing maze of roads briefly. With the help of the steeple as their guide, they quickly found their way. Sara said, “Maybe we should have looked at more buildings before buying this one.”

“Why? It has all we wanted and more.”

“Really? The roof leaks so bad birds fly in and out,” Sara complained.

Prin laughed. “But the building’s ours. We own it. You and me. The location is in the right part of the city, there’s plenty of space, and we have money left over to do what we want with it.”

Sara didn’t join in the laughter. She said, “Where will we sleep tonight? An inn where the proprietor will report us to any passing mage in the morning?”

“We will sleep in our new home,” Prin answered, skipping along. “The apple family this morning said the bazaar down by the waterfront is the small one. Why don’t we go to the bigger bazaar and buy some things we need?”

“Such as?”

“Oh, cheer up, Sara. Such as blankets to soften that stone floor tonight.” Prin carried her satchel and two keys for the lock on the door. However, she also intended to buy new locks for both doors. No telling how many other keys existed for the locks that looked older than her. Or Sara. Or Chalmers.

As they turned onto their street, Prin paused and admired their building again. It blended in with the others, had solid stone construction, and was in a clean part of town. There were only two doors, and no windows were on the ground floor—for security they’d been told. Near the top were small windows, dozens of them, built to allow light to enter.

Once inside, she searched somewhere to place the satchel and settled for leaving it beside a post near the door, where any thief couldn’t help but find it. But she removed the valuables and placed them under a small pile of rubble in one corner where she hoped they would be hidden and secure. Most thieves will not look in rubble for valuables, or so she hoped, but they will snatch and run with what they find first.

When she was convinced the valuables were out of sight, Prin said, “Things are going too well. We escaped Wren and the assassins, and yes, we changed our appearances, but it has been too easy, or we’ve been lucky.”

Sara pulled to a stop, her hands holding more trash to throw in the corner. “They’ll still come. Maybe. It’s a long way from Wren to Indore, and a rugged mountain pass to cross.”

“Or they are already here,” Prin continued. “They have killed three men, two high-ranking royals, so far, and they are attempting to overthrow the king. A few days of travel aren’t going to stop them. Do you know any spells that might help us?”

Sara chuckled. “If you want them to like us better, I know a pretty good love charm. I know how to use my arrows that won’t miss, but even those were enchanted by another. I can read, write, and work numbers, but in my small village, there was nobody to teach me sorcery, so I know only a little more magic than you.”

“But you’re older,” Prin protested.

“Twenty. You’re twelve or whatever, but I didn’t even know I had any powers until a few years ago, so we’re not all that far apart in casting spells and magic of any sort.”

Prin kicked more trash in the direction of the growing pile. “We need help. I was hoping you knew a spell or two that would help hide us or something. Maybe we can hire a local sorceress to help us, and we can buy some spells from here.”

“You know what I think?” Sara said. “I think we definitely need a broom to clean this place up.”

“And food.”

“Candles. And chairs.”

The requirements quickly grew into a list far more than they could possibly carry back to the building in ten trips. Both knew the list would continue to get longer, and they laughed as more items were added.

Walking in the general direction of where they thought the Bazaar might lay, they asked directions and turned without getting lost. A raven flew down and landed on a branch in front of them. After they had walked past, the bird flew ahead of them again and landed. It twisted and cocked its head as it watched. Prin remembered the crow that had scolded her when she pronounced her letters wrong.

Twenty blocks later they heard voices singing, music played by different instruments, and other noises generated by a crowd. They entered a square far larger than the other down by the waterfront, filled with throngs of buyers and sellers.

Sara said, “How can so many people be in one place?”

“Don’t worry. We don’t want to talk to them all, we want to find only a few that can help us.”

“How will we find the right ones?”

“We shop.” Prin took the lead. She stepped up to a woman at a stall who fried small strips of spiced meat on a tiny stove. By habit, Prin checked the fire and found it wanting. The small fire put too much heat in one place on the pan, but she said nothing. Instead, she asked for two strips of meat for each of them.

As the cheerful woman handed the meat to her, Prin said, “My father needs some carpentry work done. He needs roofing and a whole room built. Do you know anyone?”

“I don’t do that, but there is a man one aisle over who sells tools and he might.”

They found the correct stall after only getting lost once. A man of perhaps thirty greeted them. “I am Eldemire, but my friends call me El. I understand that you might need roofing and other construction work?”

So, the woman who sold them the spicy meat had already sent word ahead of their interest, probably in return for a small commission. Instead of getting angry, Prin admired the action and took a small step back, allowing Sara to open the negotiations.

El was tall, muscular, and his hair flowed from front to back in dark waves. Prin watched Sara watch him. She seemed as fascinated by El as he was for her. Prin turned her attention to El, finding his thick features, suntanned skin, and white teeth too perfect. He was the sort of man that demanded women pay him attention.

Prin nudged Sara. She finally took the cue. She introduced them and said, “Our father has purchased an empty warehouse near the big steeple over there,” she pointed.

He nodded, “I know that neighborhood, of course, and generally where the warehouse is.”

She continued, “The inside had a fire, years ago, and burned the inside, but we want a set of rooms to live there. Father is a spice merchant and will often be traveling, but wants to be where he can quickly look to see his inventory and make trades.”

El said, “I assume it’s one of those long, narrow warehouses they favor near the steeple. What were your thoughts?”

Sara crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes for a brief time, probably picturing her idea. She glanced at Prin, silently giving her permission to express her views, especially since she was paying for it.

When Prin didn’t respond, Sara said, “We talked about a loft, a raised area with two sleeping rooms, a kitchen, gathering room, and a way to heat it in winter.”

Prin said, “Windows. Can we add them? Ones that open?”

“What else?” El asked.

Sara looked to Prin who shrugged as if she had covered it all.

El smiled as he reached behind himself and pulled a rolled scroll from among others on a shelf. He motioned for them to sit at a small table, where two small chairs waited. He unrolled and spread the scroll, which was comprised of a simple line drawing without color or enhancement.

He pointed with a bony finger, “This is to explain the process. We can provide details if this is the sort of thing you wish. May I offer refreshments?”

They refused, and he continued. The first panel of the drawing simply detailed vertical beams that formed a framework holding up a loft. The second panel, the underside of a floor as seen from the underside as well as the top. The bottom four panels detailed how the room might be laid out. “Questions?”

Sara said, “This can be adapted to any size? The stairs placed where we want them?”

He nodded agreeably before saying, “The cost varies, but yes.”

“And building work tables for sorting the spices, as well as shelves on the ground floor?”

“Simple and inexpensive. The loft is also not too costly, but the roof? That is another matter. Until I see the building and in particular the roof, I cannot even give you a guess for the cost.”

Prin liked his honesty. A wrong guess was far worse than being given a higher, but accurate price to begin with.

Sara told him which building was theirs and agreed to meet him in the morning. She shook his hand, and Prin noticed the handshake may have taken slightly too long for a casual agreement. The look in their eyes lingered.

Prin took Sara by her elbow and escorted her from the tent. Outside in the noise of a thousand deals being made, she said, “We still have things to do.”

Sara said, “Are you sure you have enough gold for all this?”

Prin paid for two mugs of unfermented fruit juice from a fruit she was unfamiliar with and stood to the side of the narrow passage between stalls as they sipped. “I have spent less than half of one large coin. If the repairs cost the other half, we still have the other coin to live on. Plus, we have all the smaller gold coins, but our only expenses will be food and what other necessities do we need.”

“That’s enough to pay our way for two or three years?”

“Fifty,” Prin snorted. “After the building is done.”

Returning the empty mugs to the seller, they wandered up and down the rows of goods displayed. Carpets, clothing, weapons, jewelry, food, and a hundred other things. Prin noted the location of a leather worker in case the scabbard for Sara’s new throwing knife was not up to her standards.

As they walked and talked, a raven landed on a tent and cocked its head as if looked at them. It pulled its head back and spoke, “Hannah beware.”

In the noise and confusion of the bazaar, Prin turned to Sara, “Did you hear that?”

Sara looked confused.

The bird flew away. “A raven landed and said, Hannah Beware. At least I think it did.”

Sara turned to look for the bird, and when she didn’t see it, she asked, “Are you sure?”

“No. I was so shocked it called me Hannah, or thought it did, that I’m not sure it was even there. Nobody here knows that’s my name.”

“Then, how could a raven know it?”

Prin shrugged it off, but the incident haunted the back recesses of her mind. Had it happened? She decided her mind was playing tricks.

Sara pulled her to one stall where an old woman with wistful eyes sat and watched the people flowing past. The raised table in front of her held stacks of paper, inks, quills, and even pens. The variety captured Prin’s attention.

Sara said, “We desire paper, poor quality for a student, and all else a teacher might need.”

The woman pulled out a small scroll which revealed the alphabet and numbers, each with small arrows indicating the flow of ink. Before she could fully describe it, Sara agreed to buy. Prin carried a stack of heavy paper while Sara carried a half dozen pens of different shapes and features, and small jars of ink.

A cripple handed them samples of bread with small seeds baked on the outside. They bought two loaves. Another woman sold dried meat, peppered and spiced differently. She was kind enough to refuse to sell them their first selection because she said it would burn their tongues to cinders and then neither girl could ever speak again. All three laughed at the joke.

Others welcomed them or asked friendly questions about their origin. They provided non-descript answers and indicated they had arrived more than twenty days before. They wanted to establish they had made a pilgrimage to visit a relative, more than two weeks before Hannah in the Kingdom of Wren, had disappeared. They also mentioned their father often, as well as Prin’s age, all to confuse those they believed would be searching for them.

When the assassins came sniffing around, they would find no matching blonde girl of eleven had arrived in Indore, and the one that vaguely fit the description had arrived with her family on a ship twenty days before Hannah could have. Instead of hiding, they spread the story to all they spoke to and hoped it helped hide them in plain sight.

Although their arms were already full, Sara pulled Prin to another stall where chamber pots were displayed. Prin said, “I guess we need one.”

Sara shook her head. “We need two.” She pointed to one and asked to see it. The woman told her it was her biggest seller. But Prin saw another on display that captured her interest. While plain white and ordinary on the outside, the bottom of the inside displayed the image of a mage, arms raised, sparkles at his fingertips. She giggled.

“Think that’s funny, do you?” the old woman asked. “You’d like to pee on a mage?”

Prin burst out laughing, then said, “Tell me that’s a young mage, and I’ll buy it.”

The old woman lifted the pot and pretended to carefully check the painting inside. “Why, yes, I do believe it is a young mage.”

They located the steeple standing above the skyline, and headed in that direction. Another raven, or perhaps the same one, flew past Prin, so low she ducked and felt the puff of air on her cheek from the wings. As it passed, it squawked for attention, then said in a clear, soft voice, “Hannah, beware.”

Prin said, “Did you hear that?”

Sara had her head turned away, looking off into the distance, distracted. She had missed it again. “What?”

“Never mind.”

However, when they passed a locksmith, Prin said, “Hey, let’s stop here.”

Sara protested, “We can’t carry any more.”

“How will you sleep tonight knowing there may be a hundred keys to fit our locks in the hands of thieves and murderers?”

“Okay, maybe we can manage to carry two locks. Small ones.”

The seller was an odd little man of forty, or fifty. Not only did he wear a full beard, but a swath of material covered him from his nose to his chin disguising his features. Prin hoped he wore it for decoration and not because of an injury. She spotted locks like those on their building’s doors and pointed. “We need two like those, but with different keys that this one.” She held up the key to their new home.

He said calmly, in a faintly amused tone, “Are you sure you want one like that?”

“Why? They look solid enough to me. And they are big.”

“Solid, yes. Secure, no.”

Sara said, “Are we in the wrong place? Those locks are massive.”

In answer, he removed one of the familiar-looking padlocks and pulled the key. “See here? The lock is thinner than your palm, and the key is inserted from the front. There is only space inside for only one of five patterns for the key. Any thief who cannot open a lock of this kind with one of the five keys he carries in his pocket is a fool.”

Sara’s tone turned sharp. “And of course, you have a far better one for only twice the cost.”

“Cost is relative. What will the cost be if a thief enters the place you intend to lock? Far more than the expense of a better lock, I’ll wager.”

Prin didn’t see the man as trying to over-sell them. She said, “Show us the kind you have in your shop or home.”

“A baker always has good bread on his table, and a cobbler wears nice shoes. You don’t require the kind of quality lock I have, but I will show you one far better than that simple padlock, and it does not cost much more.”

“No,” Prin said sternly. “I want to see what you use, and I want to know why.”

Sara took a step back, placed her purchases on a workbench, and let Prin continue. The man pulled a lock from under his counter. Instead of the keyhole in the center of the lower portion, the lock was solid metal. He turned it sideways to reveal where the key would be inserted. He then opened his fist and showed them the key. It was a solid bar as long as the lock was wide. Along the lock were depressions at odd intervals, of varying depths.

Prin saw at a glance that instead of a few possible key patterns, the lock contained hundreds, perhaps thousands. “The cost?”

The difference in the costs was not as great as she expected. She would have paid twice what he quoted and still have been happy. “We’ll take two, with the same key for both. And do you have a smaller version for use inside?”

“Yes, I can have them completed in two days, but there are other, cheaper locks I can sell you, almost as good.”

“Two days?” Prin protested louder than she meant. “We need them today.”

He didn’t become offended or upset. Instead, he reached back under his counter again and pulled a pair of locks that were fastened together, with a pair of keys hanging from them. “These are the locks I intended to sell you. Not quite as good, but if you tell me where you live, I will come by in two days and replace these with the better ones.”

“These are better than the regular ones?”

“Far better.”

Prin paid him and hefted the pair of locks that were as large as her hand. She glanced at the load she carried, and it didn’t include any food. “Do you know someone who can help us carry all this? We sort of overdid it.”

He cupped his hands to his mouth and called. A boy of eight with two new front teeth too big for his face arrived, eager to help. They split up the load and quickly left the bazaar before they found more things to buy. The boy was grateful for the small copper coin they paid him.

When they arrived at their new building, the lock of the front door hung open. Prin pulled her throwing knife and opened the door carefully, prepared to let the knife fly. Nobody was inside, and neither was her satchel. While Sara and the boy set their purchases inside, Prin went to the pile of rubble and moved a few boards aside with her toe. Everything of value was still hidden there.

They replaced the locks with the new ones and worked them open and closed several times. When the boy was gone, Sara said, “Well, the truth is that you’re less trusting than me, and I’m glad for that. The new locks will make me feel safer, especially after your things were stolen the very first day.”

“The dog will make us even safer.”

“Dog? What dog?”

Prin kicked the door jamb in anger at their home having been violated, then placed her knife back in the sheath between her shoulder blades. She snarled, “The great big ugly beast we’re going to buy tomorrow. The one with all the teeth.”

Sara chuckled. “The one that eats thieves?”

“That’s the one.”