Post by Sire Halfblack on Aug 4, 2014 20:52:36 GMT
Februar IM 1004
The earliest weeks of Spring saw the snow being washed away by the early rains which though fell with no more force than rain at any other time had a persistence that rewarded the cities decision to go into debt to the Guilds in order to get the cities ditches cleared and restored. The water, though well channelled from the city, tumbled at length into the already swollen River Spit that was in turn already showing an increase in its own size from the thaw that was coming in turn to the surrounding Forgotten Hills. Winter was scant departed as yet and much of the hills and even further streams and channels, still held themselves in icy solidity. In the coming weeks though the Spit would swell further still and already it had eaten away another ten foot of bank so that its spreading, unbanked flow now stood no more than a muddy eighty or so foot from the cities south wall. The land between had already been badly undermined.
The problem of course was that the increased flow of the rivers that had come but recently was still somewhat unpredictable. The River Wardens had worked hard all winter to keep the main arteries clear and the increased rivers flowing without flood but thus did not help cities like Deci where having a strong river at its feet was a needed, but surprising, new arrival.
If there was any benefit from the river it was that the citizens could traipse from the city to get hold of clean, mountain water. For generations the settlement had relied on its brackish wells and now although it meant a journey and a lot of effort, strangely clear water could be had for free. Of course, once the Spit passed the city it had become dark with the cities detritus but that was Eartholme’s problem, not Deci’s.
It was in many ways fortunate that this was the case, for though the river had great potential it also seemed to reduce the pestilence that was rising in the city. Sickness and filth were hardly strangers to the city and the peoples generally terrible health did not give them the strength they might otherwise have drawn upon. So sickness came to the settlement and if the scarred Deci folk were more resilient than most it served only to slow rather than deny the patches of pestilence that were growing primarily in Cheapside, but to a lesser extent elsewhere as well. If it weren’t for the Apothecaries and Honey wagons though things would have been much worse, the spread far more noticeable.
During the month the fighting that often took place in the streets, alleys and upon the rooftops of Cheapside spread further afield. Once concerned citizens resigned themselves to being drawn into the gangs disputes but strangely the fighting was more restricted and on two occasions the masked bravo’s of the city Hunt were seen fleeing back to the central areas of the town wounded and battered. Even the cities Heraldic Court was attacked, those scribes within literally torn to shreds and the building torn apart such that lumps of masonry and brickwork were left scattered about its square. Later that same night a sudden fall of an otherwise unnoticed outcrop of the Poison Club buried and killed someone who had been seen running forward with a pail of burning pitch. The attacker’s companions dragged the body free and if a building could have looked smug then the Club might even have been laughing at those who thought to fire it…
Kano Mirandecis dressed extravagantly and had gathered quite a crowd as he toured one of the cities markets. He had not been in the city long but it seemed that every street he had entered there had been either a clutch of youths or a group of filthy looking tribals that had jeered at his pretentious dress. He was in luck then when, after a few enquiries, he was directed to a wheeled stall where a thin man was arranging a tarred cover above the crowded pots and bottles that were his trade. Although his features were fine, aristocratic even, he dressed no differently to anyone else that Kano had seen in the city. If anything he was dressed even more drably than the other stallholders and he looked at Kano with open suspicion.
“Sla’thrin?” Kano asked.
“I might be. What can I get you? Mortel Root? Ground Endwort?”
“I’m a friend of Shiwans. ”
“Ah,” Sla’thrin nodded. “I see. Is he still alive?”
“Indeed and the Mistress sends you her greetings. Can we talk?”
Sla’thrin shrugged, but crossed his arms and seemed determined not to move from the spot. Whatever else he was going to do it was clear that he was not going to be seen going somewhere private with what was obviously a walking-bounty. “Here’ll do.”
“We can be overheard!”
“Yes, that’s right. I don’t know if you’re really from Shiwan, someone I haven’t seen for three years of so I might add. But if you’re one of Slorm’s you can go away now before I call the Watch.”
Kano shook his head fiercely. “No, no, no. I’ve come to see if you’d like to come to Thimon?”
*
The small bell that hung over the shop’s doorway tinkled as one of a stream of customers came in and took the small packet handed him by Ulis Tamary. Bobbing his head reverently the coughing customer backed out the way he had come after pushing a few old, tattered grulls into the wooden box that sat on the shops counter. Troy Majius stood aside as the grubby local left and raised a hand in greeting to Ulis, the little man indicating with a sweep of his hand that he should come into the small parlour behind the small shop floor.
“Shut the door please, Mennihaft.” Ulis pointed at the partially open entrance. “Then we can talk without just anybody hearing what we have to say.” He wriggled his fingers meaningfully. “If you know what I mean.”
Troy nodded and sealed the Spirit’s sanctum from the rest of the city.
*
“Come one, come all!” Shouted large numbers of street scribes throughout Deci. Announcements had been plastered about the settlement concerning the upcoming celebrations in Keys but Ember had been wise enough to pay the grubby scribes to actually go into the streets and shout the announcements out, judging rightly that most people would be unable to read any such proclamation. He watched from the corner of a buttressing street after making sure that he was not standing in anything too offensive.
After the neat, clean streets of Keys with its rows of new housing and grand Guildhouses Ember had been shocked to see the state of Deci. He had been here before of course, many times, but the memory had been scribbled over by the streets of Keys. The people here were nasty, mean eyed folk as well who ate what Ember would have thought twice about giving to pigs. Only three paces behind him the thaw had revealed a twisted, dead body whose arm showed a smooth lump of bone protruding from where it had been broken perhaps months previously.
But Deci was big. It made Keys look like the town it was and thousands of people crowded, bustled and hunted the chaotic, tumbledown streets like so many skinny, hungry hounds. There was so much raw material he mentally drooled over what could be done with it all. He doubted that he could lure any of them away though since Keys was in the Empire and to most people in Deci they were not.
“Come to the Grand Boat Race held in Keys.” The scribe continued in the street beyond. “We have food, we have dink for everyone. There will be great races both on the water and at the dog tracks. There will be prizes for the Guildhouse who wins. All Guilds from every city may enter the Boat Race.”
The scribe paused before continuing. “The Empress will be there to give out prizes.” The crowd hissed a little and the scribe hurriedly carried on before the mood turned on him. “Being your families for a fun day at the coast. Come and see the only city in the Empire that has housing apartments and city defined housing for its citizens. Come to Keys in Martius.”
Ember nodded and went back to what he had been doing. Having determined to enter every tavern and buy everyone within a drink he was already down to his last few centuries, but he had visibly impressed the people with his generosity, even if he had been attacked on the street no less than three times because of it.
*
“My life is here. ” Sla’thrin pointed out.
“This?” Kano chuckled and pointed at the small stall. “This is what you call a life?”
Sla’thrin narrowed his eyes. “I am left alone, I make a living. At least here I can be assured of not being troubled. What do you have to offer me?”
“Shiwan needs you.”
“Does he?”
“He needs a merchant. He has a number of large purchases to make, business to do and much to trade. He has a place of safety away from all this…” Kano sneered widely, “…squalor.”
“My trade will suffer,” Sla’thrin muttered. “If I come, what if it is not what I have been promised?”
“Shiwan is generous. He is your friend also?”
“I’ve met him once. But… very well.” The trader looked still to be uncertain. “It has been a few years since I have met many of my folk. Those that were here have either been hunted down for their bounty, went to the Fens to join with Shiwan or will have no interest in what you say. It is a long way to Thimon, clear across the Empire. It will take me two or three months to get there. Have someone find me there.”
Kano grinned. “I’m off to Eartholme then.” He made to leave. Sla’thrin called after him as to why he would want to go there. “To find more of my folk!” He explained and Sla’thrin wished him luck for he doubted any of their people would be found in such a dour, prim city.
By Alan Morgan (CI6V3)
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