As the caravan formed up the next day, the blessing from Choave was again skipped. Enderenuskeld had once more given them a night of fantastically rejuvenative sleep, and they were feeling wondrous as they strapped themselves to their wagons.
Denziu did something different this morning. Zie sought the position next to Lorvaza in the ordering of the wagons, leaving Ekis to stand next to (and talk the earfins off of) someone else for the day. Choave noted the rearrangement in his logbook, but again did not protest. Denziu had the sense that the wagon train’s specific organisation was not usually a matter of concern.
“Lorvaza,” Denziu said solicitously, “Your Tekagoli charms were stolen, but I still have mine. They sell better with your collection than mine. Would you like to sell together at Mosdenechrak?”
“I would.” Lorvaza raised her head proudly as they walked along the road in the caravan. “I assume you’re not asking me to sell your charms for free?”
“Of course not.” Denziu smiled as her response was good enough to expect success. “I’ll give you 35% of the revenue less the purchase cost of the charms.”
“I’ll do it. Thank you,” said Lorvaza.
“No, thank you. I’m looking forward to this. Your charms will sell better near my wagon, because those who look at this wagon in the market expect powerful enchantments for sale.”
“Truly? Then I’ll give you 2% of the profits from my charms while we’re selling together,” offered Lorvaza.
Denziu had no idea what kind of prices Lorvaza was selling at, nor what fate-charms were usually worth, so zie couldn’t gauge the value of that share. Just to be polite, zie replied, “A windfall to be sure.”
“Would you like to hear the rest of my collection? We only spoke of a few of them at the brunch.” There was a cheer in Lorvaza’s voice that suggested she very much hoped Denziu would say yes.
So Denziu agreed, and so the whole of the way to Mosdenechrak, which was about six hours from the border with Tanoriz, Lorvaza recited the names and natures of her collection of fate-charms to Denziu. By sheer duration this gradually overtook other conversations and became the entertainment for the nearer half of the caravan, and Oghai even fetched water for Lorvaza several times (and once a snack) that she would not lose her voice while doing it.
The road to Mosdenechrak itself was not a distraction. The landscape was an endless sea of plains grasses broken up only occasionally by hillocks or lonesome trees. The grasses for their part were endless emerald green grasses which were pretty enough, although not as pretty as the exuberant grasslands of Tanoriz. It didn’t help that the sky overhead had blown in with clouds thick enough to speak of the wet climate which maintained those bright grasses.
Lorvaza, as it turned out, had previously been running a scriptorium for an enchantment circle. While she was copying books for the enchanters, she developed her reputation as ‘Lorvaza the Predictable’, because she preferred to take fate-charms as pay. She didn’t wear every kind of fate-charm on Theoma, but she had taken to collecting every kind of fate-charm on Theoma, and so her wagon held a catalogue’s worth of different kinds of charms. Selling off her collection was what she went on the road with Choave to accomplish. Seven years later, that work wasn’t finished. She found it very satisfying and had even acquired more of the better sellers when opportunity permitted.
As the recitation continued, Denziu thought much of how zie was learning of the prayers that dragons make. The number of the charms that were prayers for self-mastery surprised Denziu, who had expected a greater predominance of the prayers for luck, and indeed the prayers for self-mastery greatly exceeded the prayers for luck in their diversity. Every skill and vice that someone could want to gain control over had a corresponding fate-charm.
As well, there were curious items such as the charms of Sharing, which came in a few forms, but all of which could imbue a depth of sentiment between dragons by touching gently on their Fated thoughts. Different things could be Shared (there was even a pain-Sharing charm for healers), but on the whole Denziu got the impression that they were performers' charms.
There were some things that Denziu did not understand despite the attempt at differentiation, such as the difference between the charms of will and the charms of self, both of which (Lorvaza said) magnified self-similarity so that dragons may feel more truly of their own nature. How was a charm of self different from a charm of will? Lorvaza could not explain it, and discontentedly Denziu clamped back zir questioning without insisting, lest zie look too hard-headed to learn.
Lorvaza, for her part, did not wear charms of self or will, but had instead balanced her own nature by wearing a carefully balanced array of charms, applied with prayer and ritual to craft her intended self before the world's weave of Fate. "It is no diminishment of who I am," she said proudly, "If I am the one who has decided what kind of dragon I am praying to be made." This array of prayer charms was why Lorvaza was known as 'The Predictable', for she had prayed to have a very great amount of Fate pressure applied to herself. She was very pious.
Denziu felt a little sceptical and came away with no intention to wear Fate-shifting charms upon zirself, but in the name of good business, zie kept that to zirself. There was only one demerit to the business sense of Lorvaza's business of buying and selling charms across the length of the trade route, which small disfluency of Lorvaza's attitude was how many charms the good vendorgon had kept for her own attire and/or private collection. She was clearly an enthusiast, for better or for worse.
All during this time, the rain from the heavy clouds overhead didn’t fall just yet, though it would have done no harm to the caravanners had it fallen. It might have been welcome. In the absence of the rain, they had a humid hothouse environment under those cloudy skies, marring their approach to Mosdenechrak. Distant lightning spoke to the scudding rainclouds yielding up their cargo in another place, a few miles distant over the broad and nearly flat plains which dominated the landscape around Mosdenechrak.
As they moved, the grasslands were more and more often broken up by farms, until eventually they were passing nothing but farms and the fields they had under cultivation. At length through this the caravan came to the approach of the city itself. It would have been poetic if there had been some final hill from which to see the spreading plains, Denziu thought, looking ahead towards the artful towers to each side of the city's gates.
The towers twisted away from the gate, flaring open in pure artistry to frame gates that never closed. The gates of Mosdenechrak had no purpose but to announce the proud crossroads city with a welcome that would be visible for miles across the vibrant farmlands that ringed the city to the horizon.
It was also apparent that the gates had been built some centuries ago, because the urban edge of Mosdenechrak spilled out past the gates. Denziu stayed with the caravan as the roads were increasingly packed, trusting Choave to lead them to the caravanserai here as well. The walls of the caravanserai were visible three turnings of the road before they were at the entrance, for the stone walls reared up over the smaller structures of the city. No small investment was given to the caravans that visited Mosdenechrak, which was utterly reliant on trade to be more than a poor farm theome!
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Oghai once more signed the caravanners in as they bid farewell to their passengers, whose names Denziu had never caught.
The caravanners crossing into the caravanserai were greeted by the sight of a festive interior with a local eatery built into the walls especially to serve merchantgons travelling overland. There were other caravans here as well, and after Choave's caravan settled in to test their places there wouldn’t have been enough berths left to host another caravan.
"Here! This is a good place to break for a meal," said Choave once they were unladen for the moment, and speaking loudly over the hubbub. With a nod to Denziu, he added, "And if I may, this is the best city to be tourists rather than merchantgons in. The only excellent price in Mosdenechrak is the buying price for food, so don't bother hurrying to the market."
"Why are there so many dragons here?" asked Denziu, with a gesture across a span of the caravanserai's interior.
"Because of the crossroads traffic!" said Choave. "You can hear of theomes you never knew you'd never heard of if you talk to dragons here. Go on and order a meal, try talking to someone while it's cooking."
The advisement was a moment of terror to Denziu. Strike up a conversation with a stranger in an eatery? This was different from calling out to passers-by in the market.
After a moment, Denziu decided it wasn't that different. The purpose of the eatery could well be to encourage merchantgons to linger around the caravanserai and meet traders from other caravans. Any of these merchantgons might be willing to carry off a few pots to places distant from Denxalue.
Hardly caring about the meal, zie put in an order for a meaty handpie delivered hot, just to do as Choave had suggested. Zie decided to sharpen zir eyes and look around to see if any of the merchantgons present looked like they were artisans or art dealers.
There was a great deal of simple attire on display. The occasional sight of a pewter Tekagoli amulet, though reassuring in its way, boded poorly for the prospects of finding art dealers. Tekagol's merchantgons were known for their humility.
The first promising merchantgon Denziu saw was the first one finely attired, but more than the quality of attire zie was drawn to a series of five colourful ceramic bands sewn into the left-side of the breast of the merchantgon. "Ho there," Denziu called. "Do you trade in pottery?"
"I do indeed," said the grey vashael, perking up when addressed. One of her hands hovered under the ceramic bands. "And not just any pottery," she said, "but the finest pottery from a dozen theomes. And you? What goods are you bearing?"
"The finest pottery from my homeland Denxalue," said Denziu, mirroring that proud stance of the other dragon. "Care to add a thirteenth theome?"
"I might, and as I see you’ve noticed it, I might care to sell a vest like the one I'm wearing. This will mark you as a dealer in fine pottery from afar, just as it marked me to you!" said the vendorgon, and then with a gesture towards one of the great stone-walled corners of the caravanserai: "Once we've both eaten, let's meet over there in the first bay from the corner. That's mine."
Denziu's name was called back to the counter to pick up a hot meat pie. Such quick service! The sturdy bread-pouch thing wasn't burning hot, so it lasted a few bites in zir claws, a hardly noticed necessity, after which zie went to wait by the pottery-merchantgon's bay.
The carriage frame atop the wagon was familiar to Denziu, as was the cloth wrapping around the pots in the frame. There were a few gaps in the carriage frame where the wrapping cloths were stored without associated pots, speaking of sold pots. Beyond that, the pottery-merchantgon's wagon was a complicated thing with arcs of metal under it that bewildered Denziu. The wheels and axles were not simply attached to the carriage bed. Denziu found the construct indescribable, and crouched down studying it. Zie pushed on the carriage and found it had some give between its storage bed and the wheels underneath it.
While zie was still crouched by the carriage, Denziu was approached again by the grey vashael in the colourful vest. She didn't seem surprised that Denziu had gotten there first, but called forward jauntily, "The meat pies here are something special, aren't they?"
"Well, they're swift, for certain."
"Which wagon is your own?" she asked, leaning over her own wagon to root around in the bed of it for something.
"One of the two flying ones near the end of the open berths," zie said, and would have pointed were not the other merchantgon nose-down in her wagon searching.
The grey vashael came up clutching a vest then, and said, "Flying? Truly? You have a flying wagon? Why did you make such an expensive investment?" She stepped over to Denziu holding out the vest as though offering to put it onto Denziu immediately; it was a white leather vest that Denziu thought was very 'harmless' against zir beige scales. The five ceramic plates sewn into the left side of the vest were in various colours and patterns, like and yet different from the ones that the grey vashael wore. Denziu let her put it on zir body.
"Oh, the wagon was not an investment, it was a gift from my mother, the land god Praoziu," Denziu said, and was about to ask 'how much for the vest' when the other merchantgon interrupted with shock:
"Praoziu of Nidrio?! How did anyone survive her long enough to woo her?"
For Denziu had forgotten that zir mother Praoziu was known afar as a killer of visitors. Geomancers considered her a hostile land god. Denziu knew this, and yet had forgotten it quite profoundly, as zie had rarely had cause to think of it in childhood or adulthood, nor in the decades since as Praoziu’s reformation seemed sincere. Still, this fact of her history produced the shock of the merchantgon and reminded Denziu of what zie had forgotten.
"Y-y-yes," stammered Denziu. "S-she's not, not really a, she doesn't kill travellers anymore." Denziu dropped zir head in shame.
The grey merchantgon dragon frowned at Denziu. "You're not lucky enough to have met a wannabe-geomancer, or I'd heap the vest on you as a gift in hopes of having you praise me to your mother to bolster my Fate. I'll want one of your pots for this."
Denziu raised zir head sharply. "No, not just for this. These pots are a special good worth more than a vest each," said Denziu, zir feelings of dejection about zir parentage fading quickly as zie was on the spot to make a deal. "You may say it'll pay off when I'm selling the others, but I'll only give you a discount for the vest."
"I may still take that. If anyone asks where you got the vest, tell them you got it from Zwerenn of Sulftiss."
After examining all eight pots, Zwerenn bought the floral-painted pot from Denziu's collection, though Denziu was not entirely sure of its value when Zwerenn was done haggling. For amidst their discussion of pottery, which had been entirely amicable and not at all like butting heads about prices (and perhaps Denziu got a bit carried away in conversation, and lost something of the price thereby), Denziu got argued down from a stellar price to one that was merely considerable.
Despite the distraction, and indeed with a few sentences added about pottery quoted from Zwerenn, Denziu recorded the event of the sale with zir lev-i-quill, so that zie could bring back the price to the artist who painted the pot that Zwerenn bought. It was still far better than the price the pot had fetched in Denxalue.
Zie forgot entirely to ask about Sulftiss, though zie had the vague sense that it was a theome somewhere off to the east of Mosdenechrak, somewhere on the other side of the south-central forest of Tachamund whose western edge they were presently near. And Zwerenn, for her part, praised the little pewter bits with the names and months-of-creation for each pot struck into them, saying that she was impressed with Denziu's dedication to artistic display.
"Of course I'm dedicated," said Denziu as they parted, "I know these artists, and they’ve been getting ripped off for ages."
So Zwerenn went away looking nervously embarrassed, and Denziu thought that if they ever traded pottery again zie would get a better price that time. Zie was nevertheless excited to have sold off even one pot.
Zie held zir dignity while Zwerenn departed, but bubbled over once zie thought the more experienced merchantgon was out of earshot. “I sold one!” Denziu nearly shouted at zir wagon, hopping about from one foot to another with zir tail swinging about. “I sold it at the price of fine art! This venture will work!”
Denziu went out to a restaurant to celebrate and challenged the kitchen by ordering four rich appetisers rather than an entree, an expensive way to eat even in a theome known for its cheap food prices. While grazing over this abundance of food zie dashed out letters to friends and family back home declaring that zie’d sold a piece of Denxalue stoneware at an amazing price. Paper, ink, and postage being themselves expensive, sending all these letters would drain a further sum, but it was worth it to help spread the word that Denxalue’s best pottergons WERE being ripped off. Zwerenn had proved it!