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Join Date: Apr 2007
Posts: 113
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Chapter One: Feathers in a Hat
Laef could not believe what he had just been told to do, and he nearly dropped the small plate he was so vigorously scrubbing with a large sponge. Of all the days the filthy work could have been done, Gabor Pandis just had to choose this day. True, it needed to be done, desperately; but why today? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow? The vile man was really beginning to grate on his nerves. Only four weeks on the job, and Laef had already come to the realization that Gabor seemed to enjoy taunting him. Well, it wasn't exactly a new job. Laef only considered it as such because Gabor was his new boss. And however much he hated the man for his malicious ways, there was nothing he could do about it. For a moment, Laef simply stood there, his jaw dropped, staring bug-eyed at the tavern owner.
“Hey! What's you lookin' at? I told you t' go! Now git goin' you rott'n kid!” Gabor stumbled over his words, slurring them almost beyond comprehension. His knobby fingers rattled as he reached for a leather flask that was lying on the small wooden table in front of him. Tilting his head back a little, he downed another swig of hard liquor. The man was already hopelessly intoxicated, and morning hadn't even arrived yet. Usually he wasn't this bad until around noon or so, but even that was too early for most people to be drinking. “And git yer mangy beast outta here! If I see 'im in here one mer time, I swear t' the moons...” Gabor bowed his head slightly as he pressed two fingers into his temples, grimacing at the impending sunlight. A pair of sad, droopy eyes glanced up at the tavern owner from the corner of the room, where a medium-sized dog was curled up, his large snout laying flat against the ground. The dog's long, floppy ears twitched as Gabor began moaning.
Laef clamped down on his jaw, gnashing his teeth. It was all he could do to keep from arguing with the old besotted fool. Starting another ruckus was the last thing in the world Laef wanted; he had provoked one last night, and had almost been fired over it. Although, he had been thinking about quitting, lately. This job was becoming all too stressful for him. Still, it paid; not well, but earning a few silver topis every week was better than begging on the streets with a beat-up tin cup in his hand as snooty passers-by kicked dust into his eyes. He had been through that too many times before, and had no intention of returning to those ways. Suppressing a growl, he considered smashing the orange plate against the tile floor, but thought better of it, and instead stashed it in the dish rack to the right of the basin.
Sturdy iron hooks hung from the inside of a deep, wide hole in the southern wall of the kitchen. The brick-and-mortar hearth still harbored a large pile of charred firewood left over from last night's cooking. Dirty pots and pans and wooden spoons of varying sizes lay tossed around on the floor. A square table stood in the corner to the left of the stove, where porcelain mugs and platters were waiting to be washed. Here and there, the remains of empty clam shells littered the light-pink tiles beneath Laef's shoes. The kitchen was far from clean, but it was much improved from the way it had become last night ...
Raucous laughter rumbled through the kitchen, coming from the rowdy scene taking place out in the main room of the tavern. “Hey, Laef!” Gabor yelled in a raspy voice. “Come sing that song about the monkey and the ferret!” The order prompted yet another round of roaring guffaws.
“And bring more clams!” shouted another.
“And beer!”
“Yeah! More beer!” All the patrons joined in a chorus of hurrahs.
Laef grumbled under his breath. Arms trembling, he reached into the wastebin next to the basin frame, pulled out two handfuls of already-eaten clam shells, and dumped them on a large serving platter. With the plate gripped firmly in both hands, he strode out of the kitchen and toward the large round table where Gabor and seven other men were seated. They cheered boisterously as Laef approached, but the air thickened with tension when the dish was dropped in the middle of the table with a clang. Gabor took one long, furious look at the shell-covered platter and, with a violent heave, hurled it across the room. It flew well into the kitchen and shattered as it smashed against the tiles.
Laef shook his head, pushing the unwelcome daydream out of his mind. He had no desire of reliving the rest of what had happened that night; the raw pain in his cheek from the unblocked blows was memory enough. Rubbing the bruise tenderly, he picked up an old metal bucket sitting beside the back exit of the kitchen. Inside was a pair of dirty leather gloves. “Come on, Chigs. Let's get out of here.” With a yawn, the dog rose slowly and stretched his back, then began waddling toward Laef as swiftly as his stubby legs would carry him—which wasn't very swift at all; the hound seemed to be taking his sweet time. A mischievous glint shone in his amber-colored eyes. His long brown tail, tipped white at the end, was wagging back and forth like an upside-down clock. Laef followed Chigs outside, making sure to slam the door shut behind him with a loud bang. Unintelligible protests came from within, followed by the sound of glass shattering against the walls. Laef cursed himself; he knew who would be cleaning up that mess later.
The sun was just beginning to peak over the Arkadian Mountains, far in the east, washing the sky with golden rays of twilight. Morning was well on its way, and the city of Soria would soon be stirring with excitement—even more so than any other day—as tourists would be flooding the streets to celebrate the coming of the new season. The Summer Festival was a time of merriment and music and dancing and, best of all, good food. It was still too early in the day for most Sorians to be awake, but a few peddlers were dawdling here and there in the dusty street, pulling along carts full of their wares. Some stopped whatever they were doing to wave at Laef in a friendly manner, as if they knew him from somewhere, occasionally adding in shouts of 'good day' or 'happy summer.' Laef returned their greetings with a forced smile and a wave of his own, but as soon as they looked away, he quickly resorted to a sullen frown. He knew all too well it was only for show; any other day, a foreigner would much rather shout a curse and spit on his shoe, but today was supposed to be a good day, a day to feast. For Laef, though, it was far from that. Today, he was stuck cleaning up the horse dung in the stable of the Yodeling Monkey Tavern.
His nose wrinkled in disgust as he approached the stable across the street. Fetid odors of fermented horse droppings lingered in the dry summer air, seeping out of gaping cracks in the adobe-brick building. The stable should have been kept up better than this, but the whole tavern had been showing increasing signs of neglect ever since Gabor had taken ownership of it. The vile man had set Laef to various harebrained tasks—shining patrons' shoes, or singing foolish-sounding folk tunes for which he received nothing but ridicule—always neglecting the most pressing chores. Cleaning the stable, for instance. And now, if the acrid reek was any indication, the stalls were likely to be full of fouled straw and slurry where the earth should have been. It was enough to make even the strongest of men growl at the ground.
“You stay here, Chigs,” said Laef. “I don't think you'll like it very much inside there.” He pinched his nose and set the bucket down in the street while Chigs went to find a small patch of shade to lie down in. Removing a key from a pocket in his mud-stained pants, Laef unlocked the iron chain fastened around the handles of the large double doors that led into the stable. The chain clattered as he yanked it loose, letting it fall to the ground without caring where it landed. As he struggled to open the doors—they were much heavier than they appeared—a nearby voice called to him.
“Psst, Laef,” it whispered. He looked around, trying to decide where it had come from. “Over here, around the corner.” Curious to see who was there, he began walking toward the west side of the building. “No! The other way, you ear-less dolt!”
Laef grinned, knowing instantly who the voice belonged to. Only one person could call him a name like that and get away with it; only one would dare. He spun himself around and strolled down the street, passing by the doors. As he rounded the southeastern corner of the stable, he emerged in a small alley, and there was—no one.
The amused grin melted off his face and was replaced with an expression of pure puzzlement as he glanced in every which direction possible, searching for his friend Paitor. At least, he thought it was Paitor who had called him over here. He was sure it had been. Who else would name him an 'ear-less dolt'? Maybe I'm just hearing things, he thought to himself. Maybe I didn't get enough sleep last night. No. More likely this was another one of Paitor's prankish schemes. Paitor was one of Laef's closest friends—his only friend, come to think of it, besides Chigs of course—but he was always up to no good, constantly stirring up trouble for himself and others around him. Sometimes all he wanted was to be left alone. Not knowing what else to do, Laef shrugged and, deciding to play along with Paitor's game, crept toward the rear of the stable.
Before he could even so much as turn the corner, the peace and quiet of the early morning hours was disturbed by loud bangs. The noise was so strident, and so enormous, it was impossible for Laef to discern where it came from—he had never heard anything like it in his life! Running back into the street to see what was happening, he stopped dead in his tracks. The stable doors had been swung open wide, and horses were darting outside, rearing with fear. As impossible as it seemed, the noise grew even more tumultuous by the second. Laef clasped his hands over his ears. Exposing his nose to the offensive fumes that now permeated the entire street was better than having to endure the ear-splitting discord.
Abruptly the clamor was cut off. As Laef lowered his hands, he became aware of the sound of galloping hooves racing toward him from behind. Chigs was still baying over the whole incident. Laef looked over his shoulder to see who was approaching, and found Paitor mounted upon a sturdy black mare, riding with a sort of urgency about him. As usual, his light-brown hair was spiked forward. A ridiculous-looking silver and green mask covered the top half of his face, leaving holes only for his dark-blue eyes. Tucked under his right arm was a large, circular object concealed by a thin, black clothe.
“Run for it!” he shouted as his horse bolted past Laef. “I'll meet you at the river!”
There was no time for Laef to think about what had just happened. All that mattered now was that he was free from cleaning the stables—for the time being, at least. “Run, Chigs!” The hound chased Laef as he dashed behind the stable, rushing up an abandoned alley to his right.
He knew the streets well, perhaps better than anybody else in the city. Years of meandering about aimlessly, discovering where every dark pathway or long boulevard led, had taught him how the entire city was laid out. There wasn't a place in Soria that Laef was not familiar with. He could make his way toward anywhere he wished, entirely by instinct. After running past four crossroads, he took a left at the fifth one. An immediate right brought him into a long but narrow alley that curved sharply to the left. Straight ahead, he could see the busy crowd gathered in Monglo Street, the first place of safety that had come to mind; at this time of day, it would be easy to hide himself within the throng. He glanced over his shoulder to check whether anyone was following. Only Chigs was there, nearly galloping to keep up with the quick pace Laef had set, his pendulous jowls and light-brown ears flapping in the wind. Good, he thought to himself. Maybe nobody saw me back there. He returned his attention to what lay ahead—and crashed.
As he tumbled backwards, his eyes shut themselves tight as if they had a mind of their own. For a fleeting instant, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He anticipated what it would feel like for his back to slam hard against the pebbly pavement, and prepared himself for the worst, extending his arms to brace the fall and tucking his head into his chest. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed his forearm, holding him steady in midstream. The grip felt a little too tight for comfort, but Laef thought it a good alternative to having his body sprawled across the ground. He looked up to see who the hand belonged to and found a blue-eyed man staring down at him. A well-trimmed mustache concealed the skin under his wide nose, complimented by a small patch of black hair beneath his lower lip. The man appeared as if he could throw Laef at least agood ten paces through the air. A light-gray jacket extended just below the belt-line of his matching trousers. Tied loosely around his neck was a wrinkled, dark-blue scarf. Wavy strands of black hair fell halfway down the back of his neck.
The man lifted Laef slowly enough so that he could regain his footing. Standing this close, almost nose-to-nose, he could see the detail of very fine age lines around the man's haggard eyes. There was a slight orange tint to his skin. Laef took a few steps back for comfort sake. Chigs stood under him with his tail tucked between his legs, watching the man intently.
“I'm so-” Panting, Laef paused to catch his breath. “I'm sorry, sir. I should have been paying closer attention to where I was going. It's just that ... well ... you see ... I was just ...” Before he could finish, the man let out a good-humored chuckle. Laef flushed.
“My dear boy! There is no need for explanations, nor even apologies, for that matter. The fault is all mine.” The man spoke in an easy-paced, articulate accent. He stooped over to pick up a straight-brimmed, tightly-woven straw hat off the ground, and placed it delicately on his head. Two dark-colored feathers, one red and one blue, were inserted in the crown's ribbon. “Besides, only my hat was harmed here.” With a wink, he gave the hat a few quick taps, and it settled snugly around his temple.
Laef blinked. The man appeared to be from some other province; even his accent said as much. But foreigners were often rude, selfish people. Most confrontations such as this would have quickly resulted in an exchange of harsh words or, worse yet, a bloody brawl. “Thank you,” Laef said. “If you don't mind my asking, where are you from?”
Dusting off his jacket with his hands, the man looked up. “Hmm?” he asked. “Oh, yes. You wonder about my strange manner, I presume?” He smiled as Laef blinked again. “I come from a place very far from here, in the southeast. Never you mind where, exactly, most have not heard of it. Well, I best be off ... lad. There are many other matters of importance I must attend to. Good day, and happy summer.” He inclined the brim of his hat forward a bit and sauntered down the alley, whistling a chipper, rather catchy tune that Laef did not recognize.
Laef watched the man drift away, then clicked his tongue and faced the other direction. What a strange man, he thought to himself as he made his way toward Monglo Street. I've never met a friendly foreigner before. Not an authentic one, at least. I wonder if there are others like him. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. He stopped himself and turned to ask the man another question—but there was not a soul in sight. “Wait, sir!” he shouted. No answer came, not even the sounds of the man whistling, however distant they might be by now. He clicked his tongue again. “Just my luck. Someone I can feel comfortable talking to and he disappears on me, just like Paitor.” He sighed. “Well, at least I have you, boy. Right Chigs?”
Chigs stared down the alley in the direction the man had left, sitting upright and whimpering quietly, his lips flustering. Laef reached down to pat his head a few times. “Yeah. I know how you feel, boy. Come on, let's go.” The hound trailed closely behind Laef as they stepped into the madness called Monglo Street.
Last edited by rosenthalpiano : 04-22-2007 at 10:46 AM.
Reason: slight changes
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