CHAPTER TEN

Ryland took notes in his leather bound notebook while he waited.

He was in a shady spot near the guarded east gate to Northport’s Upper Town, leaning against an ancient yellow brick wall as he watched people come and go from the gated upper community. To his right was a yellow cobblestone road which led down into the heart of Northport, and to his left beyond the gate was the road which to many locals must have looked like a path to heaven.

He’d been up there the night before, and it had been a bit like heaven.

He was recording all his thoughts now in his notebook, especially the ideas which had come to him while he’d been at the party and things he’d noted about the map. He’d even drawn a little version of it in his book, trying to save on buying a real one for as long as possible.

Pausing, he looked up at the sky. The sun was climbing to its apex, which meant he was here on time. But, where was Minerva?

After they’d celebrated a successful challenge last night, she told him to meet her here to take her to the Week’s End Market.

But, where was she?

He glanced at the gate, where a gaggle of servant girls were leaving Upper Town with woven baskets to fetch food for the dinners of the nobility. They were all dressed in long, pale blue and brown sleeveless dresses, with dark laced vests and colourful floral print headscarves.

Some of them glanced at Ryland as they passed and whispered to each other. He returned there glances with a smile, inciting giggles as they made their way past him. A few of them were quite pretty, he thought.

Then he became aware that one of the servant girls had broken off from the main group after they’d passed through the gate and was now standing next to him.

“The one with the big...smile, is looking for a fellow, if you’re interested.” She said.

Ryland snapped around.

“Minerva? Why are you wearing servant’s clothes?”

“Don’t they look good on me?” She said, lifting her skirt in a bow.

He had to admit, anything looked good on her, but he wasn’t sure if saying she looked good in these clothes was an insult or a compliment, so he just said, “If you wear it, then it looks good.”

She looked a little flustered when he said that, but then she smiled and grabbed his arm. “Let’s go.” As they walked, she continued. “The servant girls always go out for days off with their fellows. I wanted to see what it was like.”

“You’re not allowed out of Upper Town, are you?” Ryland said as he slipped his book into the inner pocket of the vest he was wearing.

Minerva stiffened slightly. “Let’s just say, not without an escort. A big escort. The kind that kills fun, dead. That scare you, poet?”

Ryland smiled. “I can’t say it does. But I can say that we should probably walk faster, as three big men just came through the gate behind us.”

“Does one of them have a grey cap?”

“Good guess.”

She shrunk slightly and leaned into him, hooking her arm in his.

“That’s my father’s man.”

““The fun killer?” He said, enjoying the close feeling of her pressed against him.

“Very dead.”

“Right, here.” Ryland led them around a corner at the most leisurely speed he could manage, and then swung her into a doorway where the two of them huddled in the shadows together.

After a moment, they saw the three men run past on the main road. One of them paused to look down the street they were on, and then continued with the others.

As soon as their pursuer’s footsteps faded, Ryland pulled her free of the doorway, their hands clasped together.

“Run!” He said.

And they did.

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The Week’s End Market was held in Northport’s main square at the town center, and was a big event where the residents of the outlying farms and villages were invited into the city to sell their wares. Not the typical daily market fare, but rows of specialty items, hot snacks, clothes, and whatever else a town’s co-op could put together that would be worth the entry fee into the walled city. There were also games and contests, scary things to see in darkened tents, musicians trying to attract and impress crowds with their singing and playing ability, and of course animal shows with trained bears and monkeys doing tricks for applause and coins.

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Ryland tossed a few copper in a hat for the latter on Minerva’s behalf, since she hadn’t brought any coins with her.

The monkey took off it’s little hat and bowed properly, giving him a smile.

“So cute.” Minerva said as they walked away. “When I was six, I begged my father for a monkey. I wanted it more than anything in the world.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that if I wanted to see idiots flinging poo, he’d take me to the merchant’s guild meetings.” Then she stuck out her tongue. “Feh.”

Ryland laughed. “You father has a good wit. When I was seven, I asked for a horse. But my father told me that only members of the imperial family could own horses.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I asked him how to become a member of the imperial family.”

“And? What did he say?”

“Marry a princess, and I’d get a horse. So, I told him to send me to the imperial academy to find a princess.”

“You didn’t!”

“I did, and he did.” Ryland shrugged. “Well, he was already planning to send me there anyways. He and my mother decided I’d be a scholar, since they already had enough people who could swing a sword. They didn’t need me breaking things around the keep.”

Ryland had already told Minerva the night before who he really was, it was hard to keep it a secret for long when she’d pressed him for details about the deal with Eaton. Feeling he could tell her anything, he’d caught her up.

“So, did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Your princess?”

“Ah.” Ryland said, then nodded. “I did. But she didn’t have any horses, so I decided it wasn’t going to work out.”

“Poor girl. For the want of a horse, love was lost.” Minerva commented. “But, at least you got to go to the imperial academy, right?”

“I did.” He agreed, then when she didn’t reply, he noticed her staring at him. “...And, I’m going to tell you all about it.”

She gave him a satisfied smile.

“But first, can we get something to eat?” He asked. “I didn’t break fast yet.”

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Ryland wasn’t the only one at the Week’s End Market. In another part of the square, Koamalu was there as well, wandering the stalls and enjoying the sights and sounds. He had come directly to the Crimson Hawk’s lands from his own, and hadn’t had much time to sightsee during his journey. Now, staying with Dunstand Fiske’s family, he was getting his first real taste of life in the city, and while he had mixed feelings about the way these people lived, he had to admit it was anything but boring.

Ryland had left early to go and meet that girl, but before he’d left, he’d mentioned to Koamalu about the market and suggested he visit it. Now, Koamalu was trying foods he’d never dreamt of before, and seeing things that boggled his mind - these people could turn things like ice and sugar into candy! It was incredible.

At the same time, however, it made him feel a bit homesick.

He wanted to show his family these things and share his experiences with them. It actually made him feel guilty to be here enjoying this while he knew his family was working so hard to live back on the island.

Should I get Ryland to teach me to read and write? He wondered. He’d seen his friend write things down in that book, and also seen people sending letters to each other. Speaking on paper was such an amazing thing - could he do it too?

Some men on the island had been to the mainland and could read the letters to his family, and it would reassure his mother and grandmother a lot. He could always get Ryland to do it, but Koamalu didn’t like to rely on others more than he had to, feeling a real man took care of his own business.

As he was thinking about this, he became aware that people were following him.

He couldn’t see them in the crowd, but he had that feeling that came when his brothers and cousins would stalk him in the jungle. That itch on the back of his neck that said someone was around him and he was being encircled.

This wasn’t good. He didn’t even have a knife, much less his short spear, which was “safely” locked away at Fiske’s home as only militia and nobles could carry weapons inside the city. He only had his own two hands, and that might not be enough against several men.

Trying not to show he’d noticed, Koamalu stopped at a stall that was selling fruit and vegetable preserves in small earthenware jars. The owner had a few of the jars opened so that people could see what was in each, and a pile of twigs that could be used to dip in the jars to sample the wares.

“Welcome!” The stall owner beamed. “Please! Try some. Do you like sweet? Or perhaps salty?”

“Do you have anything hot?” Koamalu asked.

“Yes...You look like a man who can handle his spice! Please try this one here.” Then the owner snatched up a jar with red liquid dribbling down the side and jabbed a twig in it before offering it to Koamalu.

The islander smiled and took the twig, taking a taste of the preserve.

As he did the vendor continued - “Made from real dragon peppers with just a hint of honey to add a little sweetness. Put that on your porridge and let me tell you, you’ll be up and ready to go in the morning! I eat a little every day. You can taste the dragon peppers, can’t you?”

Koamalu eyes went wide and began to water. “Y-yes.” He gasped, shocked that something so small could be so strong. It had tasted sweet at first but then that aftertaste…

“Just two coppers for a small jar, or five for a big one.”

“Give me two small jars, and…” He paused, gesturing at the nearby pile of mesh bags made of string. “Put each in a separate bag.”

After paying an extra copper for the bags, Koamalu took them and continued on his way through the thick crowd of the path between stalls. Then he saw what he was looking for - a clothing stall that was thickly covered in tunics, pants and dresses.

Trying not to move too fast, he made his way to the clothing stall and stepped inside.

Ignoring the owner, he quickly rushed past the stall keeper and to the back of the stall, which exited into the back of another stall on the next row, this one selling dried fish.

Giving the surprised dried fish seller a smile, he sprinted out of the stall and into the crowd on the other side, crossing the crowd, and then slipping into an antique dealer’s stall on the row across from the dried fish seller.

“Welcome,” said the dealer old enough to be an antique herself, but Koamalu put a finger to his lips and looked back across the stream of people at the dried fish seller’s stall.

Sure enough, a few moments later five men came rushing out of the stall who hadn’t been there when he’d entered it, following Koamalu’s path. They were a tough looking bunch around twenty summers each, and he didn’t recognize any of them.

They split into two groups, each going a different direction and vanished into the crowd.

Why were they after him?

Had he given them a reason to chase him? Had he been with one of their women?

Or was there another reason they were after him?

Ryland…?

He had to find his friend.