Chapter 8: The Streets of Beletara

Beletara had two things that intrigued me. It sat on the shore of the Summer Sea, and there was actually a guild house for the Wizard's Guild. Having been Declared by Firetree, I was, in theory, a member. That possibility was the extent of my knowledge of the Wizard's Guild. I didn't know if there were dues to be paid, meetings to attend. I didn't even know if there was a secret handshake!

We had been passing people headed away from the city regularly since we left the spring, and when we stopped to help a man reload a few crates that had spilled from his overloaded cart, we asked where we should look for someone to guide us to a particular address in the city.

"There's a guard post where this road enters the city. Stop there and ask the city guards. They'll find you one of the local boys to be your guide, but be careful, many of those boys will pick your pocket as they cheerfully guide you to your destination."

"I think its time to start looking more like the Wizard I am and less like the happy traveler," I told Cor once we were back on the road.

I brought NeedleThorn off my back where she had been discreetly riding and slid her tapered end into the socket of the modified lancer's sling I'd built. I told my riding cloak and leathers to get back to being themselves, and the dust of the road fell off and they returned themselves to the subtle white and gray weave pattern that had been responsible for my being called Weaver.

I looked over at Cor and she had given herself a similar sprucing up. Her leathers looked clean and fresh and the remarkable transition of her leathers from darkest gray at her feet to blinding white at her shoulders was back at their full, startlingly noticeable levels. The cloak she wore had resumed the trait it had acquired while we had traveled, and its edges faded and swirled in and out as we rode. I let NeedleThorn extend to the side, my arm extended loosely, in a posture that announced my willingness to use it.

We were ready for the big city.

It was still early morning when we arrived at the guard post. The sun was low in the sky, but not directly behind us, so the guard had no trouble seeing the easy smile I was wearing. We slowed and eased over to the side near him before stopping.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning," He replied, his eyes managing to run over both of us head to toe, and in Cor's case, lingeringly, all while never quite loosing sight of NeedleThorn. "How can I help you?"

"I am Weaver, and this is Wind. We have a message to deliver, but are new to Beletara. We have been told that you can arrange a guide for us?"

"Certainly. I am Flank. Welcome to Beletara. Where in the city do you need to go?"

"The address is 10 Jarlim Court."

"Ah, you will want one of the relatively respectable boys for that address," Flank said with a grin. He gave two bursts of a whistle he had hanging on a cord around his neck, and from the crowd of people nearby a boy, ten years old or so, came running.

"Ah! Ridge! Perfect," Flank said, addressing the boy more than us. "Ridge. These two wish to go to 10 Jarlim Court. Do not wander, and do be respectful!"

"Of course!" The boy said, managing to sound offended. "I am always respectful to my clients, even if they are not Wizards and Beautiful women."

"Take the Ring Road north, you can avoid most of the clutter of the city that way." Flank suggested. I'm sure he was trying to be helpful, but Ridge managed to look truly offended this time, without even saying a word.

We followed Ridge into the city, and for a moment were dipped into the middle of a mass of hustle and bustle before turning right onto a wide cobblestone street. Here the traffic and the crowds soon thinned.

"Hold up." I said, hopping off Slider and onto the street. "We've spent so much time on horseback in recent weeks It will be nice to just walk along a city street. Easier to chat when we're a little closer to eye level too, eh?"

Cor joined us and we resumed our slow walk along the street.

There were shops here and there on this street, but for the most part the buildings seemed residential. I commented on that to Ridge.

"Yes, the Northeast Quarter is mostly residential, and mostly for the professional tradesmen, artisans and craftsmen. The western edge, where it meets the Royal Quarter is where we are headed, and it is mostly the wealthy merchant families who live there."

"You seem like a bright boy Ridge, what causes you to be earning a trepen here and there at the city edges?"

The question earned us a good laugh from Ridge, and then a sharp look before he answered.

"I really work for my Uncle Eagle. He pays me to watch the entrance to the city and let him know when anyone out of the ordinary arrives. The trepen is just to keep my place with the other boys."

"I will assume from your forthrightness that your Uncle Eagle's interest is mercantile and not mercenary?" I asked. The oddly formal phrasing I'd used didn't throw him in the least, and I had used it intentionally to see just how he handled it.

"Yes. Uncle Eagle is cargo master for one of the larger shipping concerns, and he is always looking for an edge when it comes to finding and attracting business."

The conversation might have kept me from noticing the two burly individuals in matching leathers who approached us, but of course my senses had spotted them as soon as they began heading our way.

"Royal guards," Ridge said quietly. "They'll want to know where you're going and who you expect to see there. They patrol the edges of the Royal Quarter, which is a couple more blocks to the west of us."

"Good morning!" The one in front said with a pleasant tone. I noticed his partner remained a few strides behind, safely out of NeedleThorn's reach. "Can I ask your destination?"

"I am guiding these two newcomers to our city to 10 Jarlim Court," Ridge offered.

"And who do you seek there?"

"We have a message for Wick Shavrom," I answered.

"Ah! I believe he has been hoping for some word from his brother and his family. I hope you bear good news," The guard actually beamed a smile at the news!

"Are those your horses?" The second guard asked.

"Yes they are," Cor answered.

"You cannot let them walk about loose like that, they must be controlled."

"They are," I said.

"We understand they are trained to follow you without reins, but they must be directly controlled while in the city." The first guard said.

"They are," I repeated. "Slider, turn around and walk back to that flower box underneath the window with the blue sashes and pick me out the yellow tulip."

Slider of course did exactly what I asked him to do, and did it without hesitation.

"I see!" The first guard said with a chuckle. "Well Dun, I believe these Wizards have demonstrated that their horses are directly controlled, don't you?"

"Absolutely. Welcome to Beletara," The second guard said, and the two of them continued on their way past us.

Ridge finally delivered us to a circular courtyard with a nice fountain at its center. The gate he delivered us to appeared identical to the other two that shared the common high wall that surrounded the courtyard, except for a gleaming bronze number 10, in the Arborian script. There was an ornate bell beside the gate, and I rang it twice, loudly. A small opening in the gate itself slid open, and a face appeared behind a piece of iron grillwork.

"State your business, please."

"I have a message for Wick Shavrom, from Cap Shavrom," I answered.

The opening slid shut abruptly, and after a brief delay the gate slid half way open and the face we'd seen through the opening, attached now to an elderly gentleman with an actual wooden leg, motioned us in.

"Please come in. Lord Shavrom will see you immediately."

I turned and flipped a pair of trepens to Ridge.

"Thank you for excellent service Ridge."

"You're welcome, Wizard, my Lady," he gave a nice little bow to Cor and turned to walk away.

We walked through the gate, followed by Slider and Grendel. With all of us inside, the doorman pulled a lever and the gate closed behind us.

"Trough here will show you in, Lord," The doorman said, pointing at a young man, probably fifteen or sixteen. He looked nothing like the other Trough I knew, with closely trimmed blond hair and narrow features. "And young Spider here will tend your horses."

"Slider, behave yourself, and make sure Grendel behaves as well." I said to Slider, then looked at the younger boy. "Spider, the horses will follow you and do as you say. Do not ask them to do anything a horse in your care shouldn't and everything will be fine, okay?"

"Yes sir," Spider said after a quick pause that included a gulp and some wide eyes. "Follow me!" he said to the horses.

"Welcome to Shavrom Manor sir, ma'am. Please follow me," Trough said once they had begun moving off.

We followed the young man through an entryway and across a small room into a large room filled with some very comfortable looking furniture and a large fireplace. We were hardly in the room at all before a large, burly gentleman and a matronly woman came rushing in from the other end of the room.

"I am Wick Shavrom. This is my wife Violet. You have a message for me?"

"Yes sir. I am Weaver and this is Wind. We just left the Taraval Spring station. Cap Shavrom and members of his family are there, and ask that you send riders with fresh oxen for their two wagons."

"They are alive then! What about Gantry?"

"I'm sorry sir, but that name means nothing to me," I replied.

"Gantry is my brother and Cap's father. He was leading the group Cap was traveling with, so the fact your message is from Cap, and Gantry is unknown to you tells me much."

"There were twenty of them when we found them in the dessert sir." Cor said. "Only twelve were still alive, and we managed to save all of them, but there were eight who had already died from lack of water, and Cap himself was the oldest of the survivors, I'm sorry."

No, do not apologize!" Violet Shavrom said. "You bring us news that there are survivors just when we had begun to lose hope. Are the others doing well?"

"Yes, it took some time to get them fit enough to travel, and we took our time on the road, so Cap and the other survivors are very close to completely recovered," I reassured her.

"Were all the children okay?" Violet asked.

"They are now, though several of them were very close to death when we first arrived. Cap himself and his wife Marsh were among the worst hit. We suspect they were skipping themselves in the water rationing towards the end, in favor of the children," Cor said.

Wick sent Trough immediately to rouse the stable master with the word that a party of riders and four oxen needed to be sent to bring Cap and the rest of the survivors home.

"Tell them to make all due haste, but do nothing that would jeopardize their safe return," Wick emphasized.

With that excitement out of the way the Shavroms became gracious host and hostess and invited us to sit and take a glass of wine. The two of them were adept conversationalists, and we spent a good hour while we learned some of the background of the family and those we'd rescued. Wick's brother Gantry had been set on establishing a foothold in the Resecian Hills, where gold and silver mining had been booming for some years now. Unfortunately, as it soon proved, the desire to be a mining tycoon and the ability were not the same thing, and Gantry had finally given it up after a dozen years and had packed up the family and began the return journey to Beletara.

We had to repeat much of what we said during that conversation just an hour later when we joined the family for their midday meal.

"Gantry was always so full of foolish ideas and impulsive plans. It is sad to see him come to such an end," Wick sighed.

"I've known him only for a short time sir, but its my impression that Cap is not a victim of that particular weakness. He seems a solid dependable man, and those with him looked to him for leadership," I told Wick.

When we had wrapped up the midday meal, Wick left us in the care of one of his grandchildren, Cord Ambrul. Cord was seventeen, and had just finished his first year at the Beletaran Maritime Academy. Two more years there and he would become a certified pilot/navigator in the Maritime Guild.

"With that certification, and Grandfather Wick's continued belief in my good sense, I will become captain of one of the ships in the Shavrom fleet."

Cord was young, fit and ready for whatever we had in mind for Beletara. For our part, Cor and I were fully prepared to play the tourists, at least for the day. Since we had no objection to walking, or of spending the day on foot, Cord suggested we walk 'The Gut', which is what Beletarans called The Royal Mercantile Avenue, a wide elegantly maintained street that ran from the docks all the way to the Royal Quarter, ending in a courtyard called The Shrine of Beletara.

We checked on Slider and Grendel before leaving. They were doing just fine, and we were soon through the gate and into Jarlim Court. It was a short walk, only a couple blocks west, to the Shrine of Beletara. The shrine was obviously a popular gathering place, as there were small knots of people scattered everywhere in the vast open plaza. Men stood holding discussions, families stood near the central fountain, letting the children play in its spray, here and there I saw an artist at his easel, painting a scene from this angle or that.

"This is an amazingly pleasant scene!" Cor remarked.

"The Royal Guard and the City fathers work hard to make it so, as they do for the entirety of The Gut." Cord said. "But it would be deceitful of me to imply that all of Beletara is this way. The city has its rough spots and its dark corners."

"We appreciate your honesty Cord, all large cities do have their dark corners, I believe."

With the scenes of the Shrine thoroughly soaked in, we headed south, down The Gut. The buildings in this area of Beletara reminded me of the Back Bay in Boston. Reddish bricks and green awnings, with spacious sidewalks done with paving bricks woven into intricate patterns. The street was lined with shops of every sort and description. Linens, clothing, jewelers, stationary, craft goods and kitchenware, you name it, there seemed to be a shop somewhere on The Gut that sold it.

We stopped quite a few times during our stroll to visit with people Cord knew. Most where his own age, but not all, and we could tell he was well regarded by those we met.

I was intrigued to see a magic shop, and was tempted to go in. In a world full of Magic, and with both people touched by the Magic and those who could touch the Magic to some greater or lesser degree, what would you sell in a magic shop I wondered?

"Herbs, rare earths, crystals and gemstones, the sorts of things some of those with Talent might use to fix or focus their Magic," Cord told me.

Despite what I saw as the incongruity of it, I went into the shop and browsed for a while. The only thing I saw that drew me was a book called 'Arborian Wizards: A History of Good and Evil.' The damned thing was a good eight inches thick and the size of a serving platter!

I couldn't resist in the end, and bought it. Cor snickered at the shopkeeper and Cords astonishment when I simply slipped it into an inner pocket of my cloak, as if it weighed nothing.

"He has told me before Cord, A Wizard's pockets can sometimes do surprising things," Cor said with a laugh.

We stopped a few more blocks south for a glass of wine and a pastry at a shop called 'The Biscuit'. I suspect this spot was chosen because of the server. A truly beautiful girl named Breeze, who Cord seemed to be on good terms with. She gave our table more than its share of attention, and flirted with Cord whenever she did.

Once we were a few shops further down the road, Cord confessed that there was indeed a mutual attraction, held in check only by his mother's opinion that Breeze was only 'marginally situated' as an acceptable future mate.

"Grandpa Wick likes her though, and says it takes a special kind of woman to share the life of a sea captain."

"It takes a special kind of woman to share the life of a Wizard too," I said with a smile at Cor.

"I would suggest it takes a special Wizard to share the life of the Wind." Cord suggested.

"I like this one!" Cor said. "Can we keep him?"

"Not and stay in the good graces of his grandfather, I suspect."

That got us laughing, and our laughter drew some attention. The number and the aggressiveness of the street vendors had been escalating as we drew closer to the shipyards and the docks. One of them heard us laughing and was quickly at our side. This particular vendor was selling 'travelers charms', which he claimed would ward of bad luck to travelers who wore one. I fingered one and couldn't detect even an iota of Magic, in any of the forms I was familiar with.

"These are tourist bait, obviously," I said dismissively.

Of course the vendor began to protest my 'vile characterization' of his wares, and by extension himself and his family. We waved him off and continued walking. He thought to follow us and continue his tirade, but I looked back threateningly and raised NeedleThorn slightly to remind him I was carrying it. He stopped there and we moved on down The Gut.

My desire to see the Summer Sea up close had me bypassing other interesting locations on The Gut, including Beletara Field. I may have mentioned somewhere that Arborians had three loves. Wine was definitely the culture's signature obsession, but horses and music were also universally revered. I had already had good evidence of two of these, and here was the third. Beletara Field was a horse track, but it was a horse track in the same sense that the Coliseum in Rome was. It was designed to stage grand spectacles that people might dream of seeing once in a lifetime. It was definitely going to deserve its own piece of our time. Perhaps not this trip, but someday.

There is a smell associated with a busy seaport. I have experienced it on three different worlds now, and my senses are always struck in the same way. The smell of the sea and the salt air. The echoes and vibrations of rope, wood and canvas, the smell of fish, the sound of gulls and the feel of the air moving off the sea and brushing your face. It makes me shiver every time.

Cord had plenty of acquaintances on the docks, and plenty of friends among the cargo masters and their underlings, seemingly in every warehouse, station and berth in Beletara.

"It is two things combining really," he told us as we followed the docks west, towards the edge of the city and the open shore. "I am a Shavrom, and there are plenty here who look on the family favorably, as well as those who would have us look on them favorably. Very often its both at the same time, of course. In addition, I am in the Maritime Academy, and as such, spend a great deal of time on the docks and on the ships."