Another Little Piece

Here's another section of that piece.

I debated going through the city gate or climbing the wall again. Climbing would clear my head. But I didn't particularly want to talk to Richard. Not only that, I wasn't sure if he was on duty, and I'd rather not get hauled off to a holding cell today. So I chose the gate.The dirt trail around the city led me to it. It was a huge set of dark wooden doors with riveted and rusted metal crossbars. Every morning there was a steady stream of people moving in and out of the city, monitored loosely by the guards leaning idly against either side of the doorway. 

I pushed through the crowd, keeping one hand protectively on the loot I had. Just because I was a pickpocket didn't mean I was immune to being pick pocketed. I headed through some filthy alleys, across a couple buildings when I saw brawls spilling into the streets, since I wasn't in much of a mood to brawl, and down a few foul smelling streets. I wound up in front of a small shop with a faded sign that proclaimed “Porter's” from where is hung askew over the door. This shop had a wild assortment of wares sitting in the window from half filled bottles of alcohol to porcelain dolls with matted hair and torn dresses. I opened the door, and a broken bell gave a half hearted ring.

"We aren't open,” I heard a muffled voice say from the back room.

"Porter, it's me. Cal. I got some nobles,” I said, running my finger through the thick dust on the counter.

"Nobles?" I could hear the interest in his voice.

"Girls.”

"Oh. Jewels, I assume.”

"Yes, Porter. Now if you want to buy any of it, you're gonna have to come out from back there.” I rolled my eyes. The sun had only been up for a few hours, but Porter was probably already tipsy. 

After a few moments of silence, he came out. The smell of alcohol confirmed my suspicions. Good. I could always get him to pay more when he was drunk. His short stocky frame was dirtied, perfectly matching his store. I dropped the goods on his counter. He stalked forward, eyeing the jewelry. He feigned disinterest, but I could see greed, and the sort of clever cunning he hid. I held fast onto the handle of my dagger. I didn't want him stealing anything. He had before.

He ran his hands through the various pieces of jewelry, and looked over the purses.

"Rubies? You haven't brought those in since Lance died.” The blood rushed in my ears and I winced. I restrained myself from using the dagger I gripped in my hand. This filthy man wasn't good enough to even say Lance's name. But I hesitated after reminding myself that he was the only pawnbroker who would buy from me. Even among thieves and the pawnbrokers we dealt with, I'd made some enemies.

"Do you want the stuff or not?" I asked, starting to collect the jewelry from the counter. He stopped me almost immediately, as I knew he would.

" I'll have to think about it,” he said. I could barely keep from laughing. We did this dance every time I tried to sell to him. I knew he'd say yes. But he'd  try to push the price of the jewelry down first, and I’d have to argue with him until we got to a reasonable price.

Half an hour later, I emerged from his store, with a deep frown. He hadn't paid me nearly enough for any of it. 

Now, I was making my way out of the Rim, headed towards one of the highest quality inns in the entire city. As I passed into the inner circle of the city, I got some strange looks. People from the Rim usually didn’t mix with the low nobles that lived in the inner circle. The nobles here were rich enough not to live in the squalid Rim, but not important enough to live in the court.

The closer I came to the castle the nicer people dressed, the cleaner the building became and the more glares and grimaces I got. I had always thought that the best part of the city was the knights wing, and practice grounds. The castle had appeals, but seemed to pristine to appeal to me. I loved to climb up to a large crack in the wall around the knight’s training ground and watch them practice. Lance had showed me the crack when I was young.

Even though most people grew out of watching the knights as they got steady jobs or apprenticeships, I never had. As a very young child I was absolutely sure Lance and I would be knights together. But as I grew, I learned this could never be true. Only the nobles or extremely rich could be even considered to be a squire. And you definitely had to be at least a low noble to get anywhere near the higher ranks.

 I started off down the main road. I kept myself from pick pocketing about five people who bumped right into me. I wanted to get to inn as quickly as possible. 

 I approached the Blue Moon Inn where Tom worked. It was bright, clean and crowded. This is where rich people who weren’t quite important enough to get a room in the castle went when they visited. This was the best hotel in the city. I swerved from the entrance, down the rocky pathway to the stables. When I got there, Tom was deep in conversation with a nicely dressed noble. Tom was a few inches taller than the noble, who wasn’t that short himself. But unlike the noble, Tom was slim and wiry and had dark hair. The noble was stout and had thinning grey hair. Tom was showing the man something about a horse's hoof. The man nodded, and left through the back door toward the inn. Tom began to lead the horse back towards the stable. He turned and saw me standing in the door way.

"Cal!" He smiled.

"Hey, Tom. You still taking care of the fancy nobles fancy fat horses?"  I asked, patting one of the horses on the shoulder. It whinnied angrily and stomped.

"You still out stealing anything that’s not nailed down?" Tom shook his head and petted the horse’s nose until it calmed. I laughed.

"So. How's it going?"

"Pretty well. Gotten anything good recently?" Tom asked.

"Some jewelry.”

"Nobles?” Tom asked, his facing darkening when I nodded, “Cal, you know that it is a stupid idea to steal from nobles. You won't get a mark half decent for a month. Besides, Porter always pays too little for women’s jewelry.”

"You think I knew they were? I’m not stupid. And maybe if you'd help me, Porter wouldn't be able to push me down as much,” I said, scuffing the tip of my boot on the side of one of the stable doors.

"Cal...”

"I know, I know. You have a steady paying job. Alright. Alright," I said, waving away the expression on Tom's face.

"Now why'd you swing by? I know you don't like coming up to the inn," Tom said, leaning back against one of the walls.

"I may have gotten in a bit of a fight with the boys. Mostly Tony."

"Cal, I told you Tony was a bad idea. The guy is heartless. But what do you need me for?" Tom asked.

"I need somewhere to sleep for the next few days. While I find a new den," I said.

"And what do you expect me to do? I have an extra cot, but Bertha knows you stole the silver from the Blue Moon last year. She barely lets you get near the stable. You stay with me, and she might kill you," Tom said, rolling his eyes.

I'd forgotten about Bertha. It'd been a while since I'd stolen that silver. But I didn't doubt that the innkeeper would remember. Maybe Tom was right. It might be a bad idea to stay with him. Damn.

We both looked up immediately when the doors flew open. For a second I worried it'd be Bertha. But it was only a knight on a limping horse. I sat aside on one of the rickety wooden chairs in the stable while Tom rushed forward to do his job. I expected the knight to head off to the inn, but instead he grabbed another chair and pulled it up next to mine. 

That's all for today. On a related note, Camp Nanowrimo is happening this April, and I hope to participate (assuming I can come up with a half decent idea by then), so that's what you'll see here in April, and maybe some prewriting in March.