Now dressed in a white tunic, a blue vest, brown shorts and leather boots, I return back to the main plaza. Feeling hungry, I peruse the marketplace, looking for something to eat. Most of what I find is fresh vegetables and meats, particularly seafood, which makes sense given the port status of the town. In search of something more readily edible, however, I begin to wander away from the wet market stalls. Towards a sidestreet, I catch the whiff of something sweet, the scent of fresh baked goods, and my nose draws me around the corner.
Away from the main road, the area is now much less crowded, only a few passersby here and there. Ahead, I spot the source of the smell, a bakery, and I begin to make my way towards it. Before I get very far, however, I hear a sudden yell that draws my attention away.
“No one said he would be in town!” a man cries out.
“Keep it down!” a second man snaps.
The two voices are coming from an alley, and after their brief outburst, grow quiet. Curious, I sneak my way towards them, edging along the wall, peering just around the corner to avoid being seen. What I find are two average looking men, one fat, one skinny, dressed in long blue robes, a small black hat atop each of their heads. Strangely, their boots and pants are also covered in dirt, odd given we are in the middle of an urban area. As I eavesdrop on their conversation, I catch their words midway through.
“You don’t know why he’s here is my point. Look, the shipment’s arriving tonight. We bring it into the city, hold it for a few days, and then it’s out of our hands. What happens after is none of our business, and we’ll be all the richer. Five hundred gold richer.”
“Shit, still can’t believe someone is willing to pay that much for a bunch of pipsqueaks.”
“I don’t get it either, but there are people who like them looking young, I suppose.”
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“Right, whatever. Tonight. I’ll meet you at-”
“Ho, lad, yer hungry, are ye?” a voice suddenly calls out. Surprised, I pivot my attention, finding a black haired woman dressed in an apron waving to me from across the street, and though I only looked away for a second, by the time I swerve back to the alley, peering around the corner again, the two men are nowhere to be seen.
What was that all about?
I turn back to the woman, approaching as I say, “Something smells really good!”
“Fresh out of the oven always does. What’ll be it? Bread? Muffin? Pastry? Only one copper fer two.”
“Muffins then.”
The baker nods, then returns a moment later, two warm muffins in her hand. We exchange goods, and I can feel my stomach rumble from the smell. Unable to help myself, I begin digging in, munching away, my taste buds melting at the fresh sweetness.
So good!
Halfway through the first, I hear the woman give up a laugh. When she sees me glance over, she offers an apologetic wave. “Sorry, don’t mean no fun. It’s just, the way you eat, reminds me of me Arnie when he was yer age. Cute as a button. Did this thing with his cheeks as well. Chipmunk cheeks, I used to call it.”
She pokes my ballooning cheek with a gentle finger, drawing a deep blush to my face. I quickly swallow, looking to change the subject. “W-where’s your son now?”
“Off studying at the Royal Academy, if ye can believe! At first, I couldn’t believe it. Me Arnie, accepted to such a prestigious place. Told him must have been a mistake. But no siree, t’was true. Gone for a year coming up. And ah, me and his dad be so proud. You know, parents, we just want fer our children... Oh, forgive me, I be rambling again. Yer probably not interested in such matters.”
I offer the woman a polite smile. “It’s fine. Thanks for the food, Miss, um-”
“Wendy,” the woman replies, her amber eyes warm like fresh pastries. Then I see her head back into the shop, returning with a small container. “One fer the road,” she says, “Fer listening.”
“Thanks!” I chirp. Then we say our goodbyes, and I’m back to exploring the town. Seeing as how the sun has crested noon by this point, I make the decision to begin eastward, back towards the tavern, not wishing to be stuck wandering around an unfamiliar city after dark. As I amble along, a building in the distance catches my attention, and as I draw near, I find that it is a church.
The church is a tall, single story building, set in stone, capped in wood. The side facing the road is a pointed tower, whose front displays a large rosary window. Behind this, a long body extends into the alleyway, partially hidden in the shadows of the surrounding houses. Curious, I make my way up the stone steps, and as I approach the entry, I notice a single symbol etched along the walls. It resembles the number 8, save the top semicircle is erased, leaving two curved lines jutting out the circle below, a bit like “੪”. I ponder on this a moment, wondering what it might mean. Then I push through the heavy wooden doors before making my way inside.