Chapter 2
- The Docks
Dall continued to stare out of the
window for sometime. He sat dreamily, resting his head on his folded arms as
the rain fell down, now worse than ever. The clouds covered the sky and the
snow from the streets quickly turned into a torrent of slush. He thought bak to
the events of yesterday, and was glad that he'd had no trouble so far. Still,
he wondered why he'd come - well, not why
he'd come but why he'd thought he could do what he set out for. That
murderous bastard who'd killed his parents and youngest brother could be
anywhere, possibly not in the city, and probably behind an army of thugs who'd
kill him on site. "I'd need an army," he mused allowed. "Or if
not an army, some help." But right now what he knew he needed was a job.
He had to make money some how, and he wasn't planning on going after the taffer
for a few months. Connections, information and friends would have to be built
up first. But since he knew nothing about the city at the moment - any job
would do. "Damn. This is
going to be hard." he said to himself. "What is?" asked another
voice. It was calm, yet strong and although young it was filled with an air of
wisdom and knowledge. It was also female. Dall quickly turned aound, falling
off his chair. He managed to pick up as much of what had fallen off and as much
of his dignity as possible. "Well?" asked the woman. "Oh...nothing important."
Dall replied. The woman as quite thin, although obviously strong and she had
long, silky black hair. "Well it must be important -
important to you anyway. You said you'd need friends. Or an army, "she
laughed, confident that she could provide either. "It's private," said Dall
in a harsh voice. "And were you spying on me?" "Not spying -
overhearing." "Well go away and listen to
someone else." "As you wish." She turned
and walked down the corridor to her room, with a smug grin and the knowledge
that she'd found something interesting. "You should close your door at
night," she called. "Never no what people might hear." Her door
slammed. Dall was relatively unnafected by
this ordeal. It didn't really have any significance, and he needed to go out
and find a job. But first he needed food. He went down the stairs to the main
room, where a few guests were sitting - mostly on their own but there was a
small group of around five talkin and laughing at the bar. Johnny Landon, the
jovial innkeeper sat carelesly cleaning bottles and ale mugs, while Maddy, his
fat wife, replaced the reeds on the floor. "Morning, Mr. Landon,"
said Dall in a suprisingly cheerful voice. "Good morning,
Master...er...um...Hammerson? Yes, Hammerson. And it's jus' Johnny - we don't a
bother with all this formality 'round 'ere. What be ye wantin'?" The
innkeeper said in a voice as jovial and relaxed as ever. "Just some breakfast. Whatever
you've got - and some ale, bread and cheese to take with me." "Maddy, get of the floor and
giv some of that there stew to Master Hmmerson." ordered Johnny. "So
you're going out - I never like to go out in this kind of weather." "I need to find a job - any
suggestions?" asked Dall. He'd found that
he'd grown to like the innkeeper. He had a good spirit and a cheerful
manner. "Well....it depends what you're
after - if you want something constant, I'd recommend working at a smithy, a
stables or getting some kind of job aat a nobelman's house. But if you just
want quick cash, your best bet is down the docks - there's always eople on the
look out for erand runners down there." "Thanks," said Dall as he
sat down by a window eating the dull but wholesom stew. He was quickly finished
and went straight out, with the food that had been prepared and saddled up
Fella. At least he had one friend to rely on right now - even if it was a
carrot-obssesd horse. The rain was beating down now, so he was wearing his
thick woolen cloak from the mountains. Fella was reluctant to leave, more
interested in the cart of oats than freezing, wet ride through a polluted city.
But Dall hit him on with his stick and the white horse was galloping through
the streets like the wind. His movements were graceful, yet fast but Dall had
the skill to handle him and stay on well. Dall made good time, and was soon at
the docks. He had no idea where to go, so went for the nearest ships. Shipping
was as busy as ever - more and more ships left and returned, loading and
unloading with dockhands rushing about on their jobs and errands. They were
struggling to cope with the rain - and then Dall noticed the wind - it didn't
really effect the interior of the city because of the walls and buildings - but
these docks, along what was known as the Bank of the Seas, had nothing to
protect the docks - it was just a line of ships and jetties along the edge of
the land. The seafront was filled with cargo containers and everything else -
fishing nets etc. that you'd find at a dock. Then there were warehouses, shops
and ruff pubs as well as watch and customs houses lining the docks, opposite
the sea which tossed with great waves. Some ships were being sent out but other
crews were more reluctant. The wind ws now ferocious, howling so loud that
everyone had to shout just to be heard. Dall was to wet and cold to have time
over choosing a ship, so he just went for the nearest one. There was a bit of
shelter where other horses were tied up, so he left Fella here, and went on and
into the cabin of the ship. As he entered, he was already feeling seasick -
he'd never been on a boat before, and although the ship was tied down it was still very rough. The main cabin was well decorated -
it had panneled walls with red drapes and all kinds of nautical charts hung up.
The man who was in charge was obvious - a fat man dressed in expensive black
robes, with gold chains, sitting at the large oak desk with several men around
making calculations with compasses and their charts. A slim man - some kind of
steward - ushered Dall over to his desk at the near corner. "Looking for a job are
we?" he asked in a very snooty and disdainful voice. He was wearing black
as well. "Yes - anything really,"
replied Dall. "Well we do have an occupation
available - but I'll have to ask the boss. Hang on...Mr. Gilver - we have a man
applying for the job of courier here - would you like ot see him now?" His
tone was really starting to annoy
Dall now. "Yes - come over here
lad," said Gilver, in a tone that wasn't as stern as an order but new what
he said would be done. "You look strong. Not that this job is all heavy
lifting. Do you know how to keep your mouth shut?" Dall was getting the
idea of this now - he didn't say anything. "Well done. When can you
start?" "Right away sir, thank
you." Dall was amazed at his good fortune. "Oh - no need for thanks -
anyone could do this job. i excpect you'll
want to know about the business, yes? "Yes sir." "My name is Mr. Gilver. I run
an exporting company - we've had hard times of late - when we were confined to
Rampone's Dockside Shiping. It's a hard area and we lost most everything we
ordered to Pirates. Namely
Captain Davidson - anyway the watch caught him when he was docked and we all
had a good party at the gallows that day! It took us a while to get back on
track again, especially after the whole premises was robbed by some bloody
thief. Anyway, after making deals with well, not Pirates but er, um, ah er -
well Captain Harden. Anyway - with his help we made a lot of cash - we have a
trading fleet and they mostly dock here - I just have a few men at Rampone's
and a total of 22 ships - 11 for me and 11 for Harden. The company is split in
half between us - he handles escorts and I handle the deals and trading. That's
about it really. Your job as courier will be to deliver objects and substcnces
that can't really be sent through the more...public channels. Your first
delivery will be some foreign herbs - don't know what they're for, don't want
to know - either way, give them to the barkeep of 'The scarred blade," the
roughest tavern on the city. Here they are - now get to it." Dall didn't question, but put the
small bag into his cloak and went out. he hadn't asked about pay - no doubt
that would be decided later. AS he left
the warm interior of the ship, he was hit bye the ice cold air outside. The
storm was still getting worse. He looked out to sea where some poor ships were
trying to anchor - but that was no near as bad as the ones being sent out. The
huge waves tossed them around, damaging masts and sales. He looked then to the
docks - everyone was still at work, and it seemed that accidents were far from
uncommon - several sailors were thrown of riggin while trying to take down the
sails, spray lept high over the dockside, knocking dockhands everywhere and the
wind pulled down piles of cargo that wasn't securely fixed. It would be to
dangerous to go by horse, unless he wanted to have a fast journey to the
ground. As he walked down the heaving dockside, soaked from rain and spray and
amazingly cold considering his cloak he again had doubts about the city. All
he'd seen so far was dirt and the cold - and he needed somewhere better than
the Crippled Burrick to stay. Fortunately the "Scarred Blade wasn't far -
and it would be warmer. The downpoar continued, and the winds got worse.
"Oh well - it's a job," he said to himself in a voice that wasn't
cheerful but wanted to be cheerful. And from the rooftops of the
warehouses, he was watched. |
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