Appo awoke to a hand grasping his shoulder. He shook his head, still groggy from the night before. He clearly didn’t drink enough water to excuse the amount of spirit he consumed. Appo looked up to Jere, who was already fully dressed in his mercenary garb. If he was hungover at all, he didn’t show it.
“Wake up, healer. The Heads want to meet you.”
It took a moment for Appo to get up, mostly because he had forgotten where he had slept. It never quite registered until he got to his feet that he was in Jere’s home. Other than a bed there was little of note: Jere seemed to carry everything he needed on his person. It explained why Appo was on the floor covered in dirt, at least. He brushed off the dirt and adjusted his tunic. The room was still spinning.
Appo looked at the clothes that consisted of his bed for the night. They were brown robes common to priests in the area. They were wrinkled, worn down, and dusty. It confirmed that at least at one time, Jere was a priest. He certainly didn’t care that his clothes were strewn about on the floor. Appo could relate to the sentiment.
“Where are we off to again?”
“Got wax in your ears? Courier came by. The Trader Heads want to discuss something with us. Something to do with the demands you made to the big man. I’ve been telling you all morning.”
“Trader Heads?”
Jere lowered his head. “Right, right. Forgot you knew nothing of this town. Classic ignoramus. I’ll tell you on the way. Have everything you need?”
Appo ran his hands down his outfit. He felt his bottles of water and spirits, his coin pouch, and his surgery kit. It wasn’t much, as he had left most of his books and notes with his elephant, but he had the essentials. He thanked Lowya in his head that he lost none of his items during his drunken stupor the previous night, or that he wasn’t pickpocketed or robbed. He nodded to Jere.
“Alright, let’s move. We’re already late.”
The two hustled out of Jere’s home and onto the streets. Appo was stunned by how lively Ash was. They were far from the main street, but the trading seemed to be spilling past the quarantine buffer. Rich foreigners and raucous barterers littered the streets, looking out of place in what was supposed to be a dying town. The Day of Akkavan crowd was getting larger as time went on, and the holiday itself was still two moons away. It worried Appo immensely.
Jere pushed through the crowds, leading the way. “Okay healer, I’ll try to keep this simple for you. There are nine Trader Heads in Ash. They say no one rules the neutral grounds of trade in Ash, but they do. Boah is one of them. We’re off to see Mendalla Ealamassi. She’s who the Big Man answers to. Technically, no one rules any of the Trader Heads, but she does. As far as you're concerned, she runs Ash. Remember that when you speak to her.”
Appo could barely keep track of what Jere was saying. He was trying to keep up, avoiding contact with as much of the crowd as possible.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Jere continued. “Few things to keep in mind. Mendalla will be there, as will Boah. In that case, you’ll likely meet some of the other Trading Heads: most likely Harran, Shimsusa, and Nami. They all worship Okkan. Do not speak of Ati, not to mention your disease god.”
“Good to know.”
“Harran is the one with the mustache. He’s in business with Boah. The two became rich off each other years ago. Sells silk around here. Harran was Boah’s mentor once, but it’s the other way around now. He's more of a yes-man these days. He’ll nod when Boah nods, he’ll laugh when Boah laughs, and he’ll piss when Boah pisses. Don’t talk to him.”
The two turned a corner down Main Street, with the crowds getting thicker and the sales pitches getting louder. A herd of yak blocked their movements, forcing them to halt. Appo moved closer to Jere to hear him.
“When it comes to Heads, save your breath for ‘yes sir or madam,’ or ‘no sir or madam.’ That doesn’t apply to Nami. She’s there on account of her grandfather, Namshi, who’s technically still in charge of paint trade. She only matters when there’s a vote, which there’s not gonna be. Say what you want to her... Don’t try to seduce her or anything, but you know what I mean.”
They rounded the herd of yak, and the two marched across the street. “And then there’s Shimsusa. You may think that Boah is devout, but he’s an atheist compared to Shimsusa. Can’t go three words without thanking Okkan for the breath that drew them. Her brother is Enlil, the high priest of Ash. They also sell perfume, which is why I can’t stand praying in the temple longer than I can hold my breath. Save yourself an earful and don’t mention gods to her. In fact, just don’t say anything to her… On that note, try your best to just keep your mouth shut for as long as humanly possible. Only speak when spoken to, that sort of thing.”
Appo nodded. “Do you have any idea what they want?”
“Who knows? The Heads work in mysterious ways. Not complex or intelligent ways, mind you. Sometimes they like each other, sometimes they hate each other. Don’t bother keeping track. It’s impossible to say what it’ll be when we get there.”
The two arrived at one of the biggest buildings they had seen yet: the Ash Manor. It was the size of a small palace, with ornate designs sculpted into the stone. Other than the temple, it appeared to be the only building in Ash that had a second floor. The Manor’s iron doors were massive and flanked by two guards on each side. The guards saw the pair and called them through, leading them into a large courtyard. Various plants were painted onto the walls with a lavish green, and four marble statues of mysterious creatures Appo didn’t recognize filled each corner of the courtyard. In the middle stood an ornate water fountain. Appo figured the amount of water in the fountain cost more than he would ever make in his lifetime. As hot as the day was, the bright colors of the walls and the water had a magical effect. They could’ve been on the coast.
The pair spotted Boah standing next to a few others near one of the statues, some cross between a horse and a squid that looked like nothing Appo had ever encountered. Appo recognized Juddken and Duncic, but the rest were unfamiliar. As they approached, they overheard Boah speaking. He did not look happy.
"I don’t necessarily agree with the healer’s beliefs, but I don’t think we should discount him entirely. If he pries, he pries, at the very least he will track down all the cursed.”
Boah was speaking to a rail-thin old woman with short black hair and piercing green eyes. She wore a ruby dress and gold bracelets like Boah’s. She spoke in a haughty tone of an aristocrat. “There’s no reason to pursue this matter further than it has already gone, Boah. The healer is unnecessary.”