Kalos couldn’t breathe for the stench of dead fish coming from the city ahead. He held his stomach, trying to prevent it from knotting-up any harder than it already was.
“What is that?” Kalos heaved into his sleeve, completely unable to avoid the particularly pungent scent of fish entrails as a gentle breeze slapped him across the face.
“Seems the ocean has been generous this year. That smell is what you get when a dozen crews try to unload their bounties all at once before they spoil. Clearly, some didn’t make it in time. Don't worry, you’ll get used to it by morning.., unless whalers make it to port, of course.”
Kalos shuddered. It was hard for him to imagine how much worse the smell could get. A catty grin peppered Grimm’s countenance with amusement that only lasted a few seconds before a sweet, lusty voice interrupted their banter from a nearby doorway.
“Well’arnt you a lit’l cutey?”
A seductive girl only a few years older than he with blonde hair and rose-powdered cheeks stared at Kalos with a wild look in her eyes that made his cheeks glow. She was ready to pounce on him at any moment.
“Be off with you, wench. He’s far too young for your vices,” came his father's sharp response. The force in Grimm’s voice made Kalos flinch, but the girl was entirely undeterred by his efforts.
“Ohh, I doubt that, good Sir.” She managed to close the gap between them in only a few seconds before placing her delicate, well-manicured hand on his knee with a gentle squeeze, and smiled challengingly at Grimm.
The old warrior unexpectedly cut his horse in front of Kalos, bringing them both to a halt and forcing the creature to scamper sideways a couple of steps just to avoid crushing her small, luscious frame. She gracefully took a half-step back out of necessity, pouting her lips at Grimm like a scolded child.
“If you don't behave m’lady, I might be inclined to indulge those pretty eyes of yours, myself a bit later.” His approach changed entirely, but the warning in his voice came through all-the-more clearly as a result.
The young beauty removed her fingertips from Kalos’ knee and crossed her arms, displaying a sulky expression that made her full, red lips even more attractive than before as she spoke with a bratty tone, “O’aright, I s’pose I’ave no other choice’en to wait, then. But who says one’d be better’n two, anyway?”
Kalos forgot to breathe for several seconds as he tried to comprehend what she was suggesting with little success.
The girl locked irises with him once more, “Sorry’un, guess you’ll ‘ave to wait a lit'l longer, too...” She leaned forward ever so slightly, offering a clear view of her bulging breasts from inside the lacey top she wore with pride.
Kalos stared helplessly until she turned back to her doorway with a playful twirl. His cheeks felt like they would melt entirely when he realized that the particularly thin dress she wore was actually more of a see-through nightgown than a reliable outer layer, a detail he had missed entirely up until that very moment. Again, he found that he couldn’t tear his away as her smooth, well-formed muscles shifted back and forth through the transparent weave of her gown. Random strips of elegant, floral patterns hid only her most sacred curves and folds from view, but just barely.
"Hurry up and come on" his father snapped, jolting Kalos back to his senses. Quickly they began trotting through the rest of the pleasure district at a brisk pace to avoid any further delays at Grimm's discretion.
#
The two riders navigated slowly through the busy streets for nearly an hour until finally they came to a tightly-packed courtyard surrounded by multi-story buildings on every side. A vast, web-like network of cobblestone streets converged in the very center of Blefcynn just a little farther ahead of them.
In the very middle of the city's central square sat a giant, shallow basin at least thirty paces wide, made from solid granite. Water trickled from the large, shallow bowl in the center to any one of several smaller recepticles installed around its outer rim.
Long ago, before Port Blefcynn even existed in its present form, the center-most basin had been coated with a layer of silver that was cast from a vast collection of artifacts and jewelry gathered by some ancient king as an offering to the gods from his people.
At the top of the large, middle basin was a small, silver bowl only an arm’s length wide that allowed water to flow from an underground spring. Supposedly, the silver covering the smallest bowl was all that remained of that ancient king’s sacred monument.
“Welcome to Gotleff Square, the heart of Port Blefcynn.” Kalos leaned closer to hear what Grimm was saying over the voice of the crowd around them.
At least three to five people stood beside each small basin. Some meandered away after taking a drink or filling containers with water from the spring while others sat with their backs against the greater basin. Many had even been lulled to sleep at some point by the relaxing sound of running water all around them.
From the silver bowl, water eventually trickled down to narrow crevices covered by metal grates that channeled the flow to various places throughout Port Blefcynn. Eventually, the pathways linked together with a much larger river that started somewhere in the mountains and eventually poured straight into the sea.
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Filling the entire square, wherever a patch of space could be found, merchants and peddlers sat with various assortments of blankets, carts, rugs, and huts to present their wares for purchase. Constant banging with sticks and shouting echoed out at random to entice passersby to stop and take a look at what was offered over other nearby vendors.
Armed guards were posted at Gotleff Square solely to prevent citizens and vagrants from staying in one spot. Occasionally they would bludgeon people with their cudgels or randomly shove someone out of the way without bothering to explain why.
Multitudes were on their way out of the square while others were just arriving. The flow of people was constant like the river pouring into the sea at the city’s edge.
“Be gone, vagabond!” Kalos turned as one of the guards shouted at a small, frail man who had apparently been sitting by the basin for too long. The man struggled to stand-up as several weary souls who were also sitting nearby stood to make their escape.
Just as the unfortunate beggar started shambling away, the guard shoved him from behind with the end of his cudgel, nearly causing him to fall flat on his face in his weakened state. The guard reached down and grabbed a fistful of his coarse, gray hair while leaning close to his ear, causing him to tremble with fear.
“How many times must you be warned, maggot!?” the guard roared. “The square is not a campground! Do not linger and do not touch the King’s Basin!” He pulled the man up from the ground by his hair alone and dragged him several paces with one hand before viciously jabbing him one last time and dropping him to the ground on his side in a heap. The guard then veered off in a completely different direction, searching for another victim to humilate. The old beggar lay quietly by the roadside for several seconds before slowly trying to get up again and eventually disappearing into the crowd on his own.
“How could they treat someone that way?” Kalos shook his head, feeling some sense of indignation over what happened. The man seemed far too old and far too weak to survive such treatment.
Grimm’s response was quick and gentle, “He just received a small mercy from that guard, no matter how brutal the delivery.” Kalos looked back at him with disbelief.
“By law, he could’ve just been arrested and tossed into the nearest cell to rot for the rest of his days without any kind of trial at all... Things aren’t always what they seem at first glance.”
Several minutes later, after they had finally made it through Gotleff Square, having waved several pushy merchants away and moved to a quieter area just around the corner, Grimm and Kalos paused to observe what lay ahead.
A long canal provided a clear view all the way to the horizon from where they sat on horseback. Several wooden ships in various stages of construction were situated along the edge of the water, propped up by wooden poles and various other contraptions intended to keep them safely aloft for maintenance or first construction. Inverted hulls and frameworks of every shape and size decorated the canal on either side.
Shafts of light reflected off of the small, silver bowl behind them. Kalos tried to imagine how beautiful if would’ve been to witness the King's Basin brightly reflecting the rays of the sun from Gotleff Square like a giant mirror for all to see, as originally intended.
#
Grimm carefully dismounted in front of a shop with a large sign depicting a long, curved, and elaborately-decorated sword leaning against an old anvil. Several hitching posts had been constructed along the front of the building in anticipation of receiving a great number of guest at one time. To Kalos, it looked like the wood had been rotting for years without being used once judging by the thick layer of the dust and grime clinging to it.
Kalos dismounted next and stumbled a few steps as a result of the stiffness in his legs. He had to catch himself on the horse’s haunches to keep from falling over entirely. The creature didn’t even flinch since it was too tired to care, as evidenced by its drooping eyes and low-sagging back.
“What is this place?” Kalos questioned, irritated by his clumsiness.
“It’s called the Curv'n Blade. I spent a lot of time here when I was young.”
Kalos followed Grimm around the corner through a sturdy, wooden door, and into a room that was far more spacious than it seemed on the outside.
As soon as they stepped in, Kalos saw a vast assortment of weapons stacked on wooden racks in two long rows down the middle of the room. Upon the walls hung several axes, maces, pikes, and spears, as well as several other types he couldn’t recognize at all. Some had awkwardly curved blades while others had long, sweeping edges for cutting and slicing rather than straight and wide for swinging and hacking like most swords he was accustomed to seeing.
Toward the back of the long, dimly-lit room was a large table with several chairs of various shapes and sizes beside a small fireplace and a large keg that had a brass spigot protruding from the bottom of it. It looked like a place where people could sit and talk for days without ever running out of drinks.
A loud clang echoed from the opposite corner of the room where a large walkway led down to a lower level. Kalos watched curiously as a wave of heat rushed up from below like a hot, desert wind. A squatty man with large arms and a dark beard came trudging up the stairs and froze, staring back at them for several seconds like he’d seen a ghost.
“Grimm?” His voice thundered. The fellow must’ve stood ten inches shorter than Kalos at best, but he bolted across the room with such startling speed that Kalos nearly leapt back through the door just to avoid being plowed underfoot. The instant the dwarf drew near, he and Grimm rumbled with laughter, tightly clasping their hands together and wrapping one another in a brotherly embrace.
“Well’ook at you, gramps. Ya’ve certainly not aged well'ave ya?” His thick northern accent and heavy, trilling R sounds made it difficult for Kalos to follow the conversation, but Grimm didn’t seem to have any trouble at all.
“And you look like you’ve fallen headfirst into that oven a few times since we last met. Gettin’ clumsier with age, are we?”
Laughter filled the empty room again for several seconds before the short, stocky Northman marched over to a table adter scooping a few dusty mugs from the nearby mantle.
“Come, drink fer’awhile, old friend.” He quickly filled each one to the brim before waving them over to join him at the table closest to the giant keg.
Kalos was surprised at how quickly the man welcomed him in without knowing anything about him. He also couldn’t help but wonder why such a fellow had never been mentioned by his father.
“How long’s it been, ehr?” The dwarf peered into his cup a moment before taking a huge drink and answering his own question, “Nigh twenty’ears?” He shook his head and slapped the table so hard that it bowed inward while the legs screeched against the floor in protest.
If not for Grimm's confident example, Kalos thought he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise for the dwarf's overwhelming presence and bold nature.
“Very nearly twenty for sure, old friend.”
Grimm beckoned Kalos' attention toward the dwarf as he spoke, “Behold, the greatest Warblack I’ve ever known, and one of my dearest, oldest friends in all Ceirlan.” He took a long, heavy drink before turning once again toward his friend.
“Mr. Doogin, this is my son, Kalos, and for him we need a very special gift, indeed...”
©2024, K. M. Plum, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED