Merchant’s Log www.thetreasuremerchants.com
5th Entry
Evening
“Hello” I replied, “may I help you?” I was staring into the warm brown eyes of a young boy, his sandy hair partially covering one of them.
“No thank you, I was just looking”. You seemed sad, so I thought I’d say hello.
“Oh, did I”? Well I suppose I was just lost in thought, would you like some refreshment?”
“Yes please” his eyes lit up. Polite boy.
I served him some cold tropical green tea and he practically had it down in one gulp.
He was eyeing the green tea bars too, and as I couldn’t ignore the hungry look in his eyes, I handed him one as I refilled his cup.
I noticed that he was dressed differently than the local folks, and wondered where he had come from.
He inquired about my sundial compass and I explained that while it was indeed a genuine compass, it was also used to gauge the hour of the day by using the sun’s light upon the needle. It was heavy in his small hands as he caressed the cold bronze. He seemed fascinated by it, and as we talked, I learned that he had arrived only a few nights before on the evening tide.
I remembered that that was the evening that the mysterious package had arrived, and was surprised that I hadn’t thought of it at all today, or the person for whom that package was being held.
I asked him to tell me more about himself, and the merchant ship he had sailed in on. He related some wild tales about some far off islands, adventures at sea, and how, when dangerously close to our part of the world, they had been attacked by pirates.
It seems that just when all should have been lost, another ship came hard to and her crew was boarded before they knew it. The pirates were quickly vanquished, and all was set to rights.
I smiled privately to myself that the boy would have me believe all that he told me and that pirates were seen so close to our shores. Although incredibly detailed for one so young, I discounted his tale as nothing short of some young boy’s idle imaginings.
The boy left shortly after to take in the rest of the market and as the day wore on, I began to hear more of this same tale from the lips of some of the locals. Another merchant had verified the story it seems. I wondered I had not heard of it before now.
As I picked up snippets of conversation between other vendors,
I tried to find some correlation of the story to my mysterious stranger, but could find no hint of it. Certainly the night watch had said nothing to me of such a tale when he’d handed me the package, so covertly delivered.
At day’s end, when all was put away for the night, I said goodnight to the last of the Bazaar guests as they were leaving, and made my way past the now empty booths of the other vendors.
Spices and the scents of incense still clung to the air, mingled with the dying embers of the now empty hearths. I could still smell the aroma of freshly baked bread, and was glad I had been able to aquire a loaf earlier on. It was still warm in my arms.
The great tent was mostly quiet now as the last of the merchants busily packed away their belongings. They would be welcomed to take shelter here for the night, before moving on in the morning to the next market.
Some preferred to sleep out under the stars though, or in their wagons. I could see the campfires being readied, and smell the savory scents of exotic foods as I exited through the main door of the great tent and out into the night.
The wind had picked up, bringing a pleasant chill to the air from off the ocean. Indeed it felt wonderful and cooling as I walked down the main thoroughfare. I passed by my shoppe, the shutters closed tightly against the wind, climbed down the zig zag stairs to the bottom, and picked my way across the docks to the other side.
I waved to the night watch who waved back with a rather curious look on his face. I couldn’t make it out but that it looked as if he was laughing. I thought of what a sight I must be after a long day on my feet, and my arms full of some of the bread and the tropical fruit fragranced soaps from England. Truth be told, I couldn’t wait to try them out.
The first thing I would do when I got home would be to draw a hot bath, put water on for tea, and relax with my “Dragonstone” book (After a hot meal of course), My favorite way to celebrate the end of the day.
It was dark as I approached the cottage that my father and I used to share. The street lamp was burning brightly however, and it shown upon my front porch quite nicely.
There, with a sheepish grin on his face, sat the young boy from today.
I now knew why the night watch was smiling.
Ah well, it seems there will be two for tea tonight…….
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