The Flying Swan turns out to be a nice, clean place. In fact, it’s the best he’s seen so far since coming to this world. Upon entering he can readily tell that it’s a cut above the Bend in the River, the inn where he stayed the night before. Curtains drape the windows and candelabra hang from the ceiling. Each table is draped with a clean white tablecloth and the employees present a neat, tidy appearance. One of them, a man in his middle years and dressed slightly better than the rest, sees him enter and moves toward him.
“Welcome to the Flying Swan good sir,” he says with a warm and friendly smile.
“Thank you,” replies James. “I met a traveler on the road and she said this would be a good place to stay while I am in Bearn.”
“Of course, of course, the reputation of the Flying Swan is well deserved.” Smiling broader he says, “And who might I thank for such a good recommendation?”
“A lady trader by the name of Celienda,” James explains.
“Ah, little Celienda,” he replies. “Yes, I know her and her father well. They are old and dear friends. How were they when you last saw them?”
“They were well and she said to tell Jillian that she sends her wishes,” he tells him.
“I am Jillian and I appreciate the deliverance of her message” replies the man. “We do have several nice rooms available. The ones on the bottom floor go for a silver a night and the ones on the second floor are a silver and three coppers.”
“A room on the second floor would be perfect,” he relied. “Perhaps one with a window overlooking the river?”
“I have one that would suit you. Do you have a steed as well?” he asks.
“Yes I do. He’s out front,” replies James.
Motioning for a lad of about fourteen years to come over, Jillian says to James, “Elren will take you and your horse to the stables out back. It’s another three coppers a night for your horse, but that does include grain.”
“That will be fine.” Turning toward Elren, he gives the lad a nod.
Elren returns James’ nod with a slight one of his own and then precedes him out the front door.
As James turns to follow, Jillian says, “When your horse is settled in nicely, come back inside and I’ll have someone show you to your room.”
Nodding his understanding, James follows Elren outside where he unties his horse and follows the lad around back through a gate, into an enclosed rear courtyard. “We lock the gate at night to prevent thieves from making off with the horses,” he explains. “I sleep in the rear of the stable for added security.”
“Thieving a problem in Bearn?” asks James.
“No, not really,” replies the lad. “But why take chances.”
The stables are just as nice and well kept as was the inn. The lad leads James to the stall for his horse and assists him with removing the saddle and tack. The lad then produces a pail of grain for the horse and starts to brush out his coat. Seeing that his horse will be in good hands, James returns to the inn to find Jillian who gives him a key on a chain with the number ten engraved in a small, iron disc attached to it.
Waving over a small boy, Jillian has him show James to his room.
“Follow me sir,” the boy says as he takes James’ bags. The boy walks over to the stairs and leads him to the second floor. The first door on the right off the stairs is number ten. The boy opens it and precedes James into the room then stops and holds the door open for him as he enters.
Once James is in the room, the boy sits the bags on the floor and turns toward James, waiting expectantly.
Realizing a tip is expected, he digs out a copper and gives it to the boy saying, “Thank you.”
“Will there be anything else I can help you with?” the boy asks as he pockets the coin.
“What time is dinner?” he inquires.
“There is always something available,” the boy explains. “The full menu is available an hour before sunset until late.”
“Thank you,” says James.
The boy nods and walks out of the room, closing the door as he leaves.
The room is much nicer than the one in which he spent the night before. He’s pleased to note there are two windows, one in the wall opposite the door and another in the wall to the right which overlooks the river. The bed is larger than the one from last night and when he sits on it, finds it softer as well.
There’s a table with two chairs, a nightstand and a picture of a swan in flight on the wall. There is also an upright closet with two doors along the left wall. James opens the doors and finds a rod with several hangers available. He puts his bags in the closet then lies down on the bed. Tired from his journey, his eyes quickly close and he nods off for a little nap before dinner.
Music coming from downstairs draws him from a particularly nostalgic dream of home. The sun’s gone down already and the room is dark, with some light coming in through the windows from the moon above and lamps along the street. He feels very relaxed but the grumbling of his stomach will not be denied. With the music coming through the floorboards, he gets up and makes his way carefully through the darkened room to the door.
Out in the hallway there is but a single candle positioned in the middle of the hallway to ward off the dark, its light barely reaching the door to James’ room. Removing the key from his pocket, he closes the door and locks it. He then puts the key in an inner pocket before going down the stairs to the well lit, crowded dinning area.
A small stage is set along one wall and a man is there playing what looks to be something similar to a guitar, entertaining the inn’s patrons with a song. Finding an empty table along one wall, he sits with his back to the wall so he can watch the bard. The song reminds him of folk music, something from one of the old Errol Flynn movies he and his grandfather used to watch together.
He listens to the music and gets a touch of homesickness. Before the song comes to its end, a server approaches his table and asks, “Good evening sir,” a young woman greets him. “What can I get for you this evening?”
“I’ll take the house special and some ale,” he replies.
“We do have some good mulberry wine if you would care to try that instead?” she suggests.
“Ok, I’ll try that,” he agrees, feeling adventurous.
“I’ll have the wine over in a second, but the special will require several more minutes,” she explains.
“That’s okay, I’m not in any hurry.” James sits back as she leaves his table and continues to enjoy the music the bard is playing. The song is a happy one with a good beat and a catchy chorus. He catches himself tapping his finger to the rhythm of the music.
His server brings over a glass and a bottle. She opens the bottle and fills his glass with the dark red liquid. Setting the bottle on the table, she smiles at him and then moves to another table and waits on another person.
Holding the glass for a moment, he lifts it to his nose and enjoys the aroma of the wine, it has a strong berry scent. Lifting it to his lips, he takes a small sip and berry flavor bursts in his mouth, sweet and mellow. Man that’s good! Downing the rest of the glass, he pours himself another, this time intending to take his time in drinking it.
The bard finishes the song to a rousing applause by the audience. Bowing to their admiration, he starts into another one, this time a ballad of love, soft and slow. About this time his server brings over a large platter with a whole stuffed goose. The goose has been roasted to a golden brown and the stuffing within steams, emitting an aroma of nuts and honey. Encircling the goose is an assortment of varying vegetables, all well cooked and soft to the touch. She also sets a basket with several rolls down next to the platter with the goose along with a bowl of gravy.
“Here you go sir. Do you require anything else?” she asks.
Taking out his knife, he says, “No thanks, I think I’ll be fine for a while.” Looking around, he notices that people are using their hands, spoons and knives to eat. Apparently forks are not the custom.
“If you need anything, just catch my eye and I’ll be over,” she says before returning to the kitchen.
James sets to with a hearty appetite. The goose is fantastic, the skin crisp and the flesh juicy with not a trace of pink. The rolls have a mouth watering aroma, he takes one and dips it in the gravy. Biting into it, he finds that it’s soft and fluffy. This is perhaps the best meal he’s had since coming to this world.
During the course of the meal, the bard plays several more songs before taking a break. James spies a bowl sitting at the edge of the stage. From the glint of metal within, he realizes that it contains several coins. During the break he notices how several of the patrons walk over and drop coins in. Must be tipping the bard, he reasons. Digging into his pouch he comes out with a gold and walks over, dropping it into the bowl. His is the only gold among the coppers and a couple silvers. He returns to his table and resumes his meal.
Soon the bard again takes the stage and starts with another fast paced song. He has the crowd singing along with him after a short time, everyone is having a marvelous time. Upon finishing that song, someone shouts out, “Do the Story of Deagan.” Others shout in agreement and the bard starts on a serious ballad about a man on a quest, who slays the bad guy, rescues the damsel and finally dies in the end. Thunderous applause erupts at the end of the song and shouts for other favorites bombard the bard until he begins yet another. He continues singing requests throughout the night, with only an occasional break for him to get a drink and rest his voice.
Having finished his meal, James leans back in his chair and listens to the bard sing the songs. The waitress comes over and clears off the dirty plates, leaving him with just his bottle of mulberry wine and the glass. The music is good and listening to it gives him more of an understanding about the people of this world. Without even realizing it, he finishes the bottle so he signals his server for another. She brings it over and he tips her a copper. Pouring himself a glassful he sits back and enjoys more of the music.
Knock! Knock!
Coming awake, James starts to get up out of bed when a pain that’s likely to crack his skull open erupts from behind his forehead. Collapsing back onto the bed with a groan, he grabs the pillow and places it over his face to block out the blinding sun coming in through the windows.
Oh my God! I’m going to die.
Knock! Knock!
“Sir,” a voice from outside the door says. “Are you in there?”
James croaks out, “Go away and let me die in peace.”
“Sir, there is a boy here who claims you told him to meet you here this morning.” The voice won’t go away. “He says his name is Miko.”
So this is what a hangover feels like? Upset stomach, headache that won’t quit. Why do people ever drink?
How did I get here, he wonders. The last thing he remembers is getting the second bottle of wine and listening to more of the bard. Carefully removing the pillow from in front of his face, he squints through eyes that will barely open and he looks down at himself. He’s still fully clothed in garments that are a bit wrinkled and smell the worse for wear.
“Sir, what should I tell the boy?” intrudes the painful voice.
“Have him come on in,” replies James. “And if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you send up something to eat and drink for the both of us?”
“Very well sir,” replies the voice. “I’ll send the boy up with your food.” James hears footsteps going down the stairs as the owner of the voice leaves.
Sitting up slowly, James looks over at the table and discovers a bowl of water along with a towel resting on the table beside it. They must have known I’d need to clean up a little, he reasons. Taking it slowly, he makes it to the table and plops down in one of the chairs and begins to use the water to wash his face and neck. Once cleaned up a bit, he starts feeling better. His headache continues to throb, but it’s beginning to recede a little. He checks and with relief finds the medallion still hanging around his neck beneath his shirt.
Knock! Knock!
“Sir, I brought your food and the boy,” a voice says.
Rising unsteadily from the chair, he uses every bit of furniture between the table and the door for support as he crosses the room. Opening the door, he squints with eyes barely opened and finds one of the waiters from last night carrying a plate of food and the boy Miko standing next to him. “Come on in,” he croaks in a voice barely above a whisper, “just put it on the table.” He reaches into his pocket and hands a copper to the waiter.
“Thank you sir,” the waiter says. “Will you need anything else?”
“Not right now, thank you,” he replies.
The waiter bows slightly then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
James gestures to a chair at the table and says to Miko, “Go ahead and have a seat. You can help yourself to the food, there should be enough for both of us.”
With little hesitation, Miko takes a seat and grabs one of the plates off the tray. Then after shoving an entire biscuit into his mouth, spoons a mound of eggs on his plate. He then sets to with great enthusiasm.
James takes his seat at the table and joins Miko in helping himself to the breakfast. He has barely taken his second bite before Miko finishes his portion and is looking longingly at him for more. “Go ahead, take as much as you want,” James tells him. “Did your parents even feed you this morning?”
“Ain’t got any,” answers Miko.
“You don’t have any family at all?” he asks.
Between mouthfuls of food, Miko explains, “Got an aunt somewhere up north, but she don’t care nothing about me.”
“That’s too bad,” James says.
“I can take care of myself,” Miko boasts. “Don’t be needing nothing from nobody,”
“After we eat, we’ll get started on those errands of mine,” he explains.
Talking through a mouthful of eggs, Miko asks, “Like what?”
“I need to buy some things, like parchment, ink and something to carry it all in so it won’t get messed up,” he explains.
“Know a place across the river on the south side. It’s over in the Temple District. Brockman’s, it sells stuff like that to the temples and scribes.” Looking at James, Miko asks, “How much you gonna pay me to show you?”
Smiling, James replies, “I’ll feed you while you’re with me and a silver a day.” Seeing the boy’s eyes open wide, he asks “If you think that will be okay?”
Nodding vigorously, Miko says “No one’s ever given me that much before. Thanks!”
“No problem, just don’t do me wrong,” he cautions the lad.
“Oh, no sir, I won’t,” Miko says earnestly. He snatches the last of the biscuits and tries to slather more jelly on it than the biscuit will hold. With jelly dripping off most of the sides he stuffs it into his mouth. Seeing that James is also finishing the last traces of eggs left on his plate, Miko wipes the excess jelly off of his face with his arm then gets to his feet and waits.
“I was wondering if there was a place that cleans clothes. Maybe even a bathhouse nearby?” asks James.
Thinking a bit, Miko says “The people here at the inn would probably get it done for you. They might even supply a bath here in your room. Some of the better inns do that.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” James exclaims. “Thanks, you’re already coming in handy.”
Miko beams at the praise.
Knock! Knock!
Miko immediately crosses to the door and opens it for James. The waiter who brought the food walks into the room. “If you are done, sir, I can take them back to the kitchen,” he says, indicating the dirty plates.
“Go ahead, I think we’re done,” James says. “Oh, and could I get some of my clothes cleaned while I am out today?”
“We can take care of that for you, sir,” agrees the man. “Just leave what you wish cleaned on the table. Then on your way out let one of us know and we will come and collect them. You should have them back by this evening.”
“Excellent, thank you,” says James. “Also, is it possible to have a bath here in the room?”
“Yes, we do have tubs that we can bring in for the guests,” explains the man. “Would you like one now, sir?”
“No, I can wait till tonight. How much notice do you need to get it ready?” he asks.
“Very little, just let us know,” replies the man. Gathering up the last of the dishes, he walks over to the door and leaves. Miko closes the door behind him.
“What do you want a bath for anyway?” asks Miko.
“Feels good, you don’t stink and you stay healthier,” replies James. “Haven’t you ever taken a bath before?”
“Naw, don’t like ‘em,” says Miko emphatically. “Fell in the river once, though.”
Miko waits patiently while James changes out of his dirty clothes and puts on a clean set he purchased back in Trendle. Once he has them on, he looks at himself in the ‘native attire’. Admiring himself, he thinks, Not bad. He folds and places his dirty clothes on the table then grabs his backpack. Indicating for Miko that it’s time to go, he follows the boy out the door and locks it with his key.
Downstairs, he informs a member of the staff about his dirty clothes and arranges for their cleaning. Turning to Miko he says, “Let’s go.” Following the boy, James heads out the door and enters a street filled with people going about their business.
Miko leads him through the throng and after a short distance, come to the bridge they crossed the day before on the way to the inn. He crosses the bridge and soon arrives at what James assumes is the temple district. Several large buildings that have the look of temples line the street on both sides. Some are made of simple stone and wood while others are quite impressive with ornamentation and delicate architecture.
Passing the temples, Miko stops in front of a modest shop with a single door and window. He opens the door and goes inside.
James can see that this must be Brockman’s, the place Miko had told him about. Many shelves line the walls and are stacked with reams of paper, quills, and ink bottles. Ten tables are spaced about the shop, several having men busily copying manuscripts. He peers over the shoulder of the nearest and can tell that this scribe has a good, artistic talent. The page is beautiful with multiple colors and flourishes highlighting the script.
“Welcome good sir to Brockman’s Manuscripts.” James turns to find a man who’s smiling at him warmly. “I am Brockman,” he says as he extends a hand in greeting. James shakes his hand and asks “You copy manuscripts here?”
“Many nobles pay for copies of important works so they may have them in their own personal library.” Motioning to the man whose handiwork James had been admiring, he says, “For instance, Lord Beleron has contracted with us for a copy of the Story of Beltine for his daughter. It’s a favorite storybook among the nobles these days.”
“That is very good work,” praises James.
“Nothing but the best from Brockman’s Manuscripts. What can I help you with today?” Standing patiently, Brockman looks at James expectantly.
“I need a kit containing paper, ink and quills that I may take on my travels,” he explains. “What would you suggest?”
“I may have what you need,” Brockman says, “follow me.” He leads James around the room to one of the shelves and pulls down a wooden box.
Brockman opens the box and James can see it’s what he wanted. It has holders for inkwells and even an enclosed compartment for quills. There is also an open area where unused sheets of paper are stored. It reminds him of a briefcase, only bulkier.
“Would this be to your liking, sir?” asks Brockman.
Taking the case, James sees that it is not as heavy as he expected. Nodding he says, “Yes. I think it will suit me just fine. I would need to purchase the ink, quills and parchment as well.”
Taking James to another table, Brockman launches into an explanation of the various items he carries. He didn’t realize there were so many different types of each to be had. He finally settles on three bottles of ink, two black and one red. A set of ten quills, half fine points and half broad points. Selecting parchment takes the longest time, for there were more choices. There was thin parchment, but it wouldn’t hold up long and very high quality parchment that would last a lifetime but at a gold a piece. He finally decides on something in between, not too thick but would last for a while.
When he finally settles on all the items he wants, Brockman tells him how much and James digs into his pouch and hands over the amount requested. Brockman takes the money and says with great enthusiasm, “Thank you sir. Would you like me to have it delivered for you?”
“Yes,” says James. “I am staying at the Flying Swan and I’m staying in room ten.”
“Very good sir, I’ll have it over there this afternoon.”
Once they were out of the shop and back on the street, Miko gives him a disapproving look and says, “You didn’t even haggle with him!”
“Haggle?” queries James.
“Yes, haggle,” states Miko. “Didn’t he seem just a little too happy when you handed over the money?”
“As a matter of fact, he did,” agreed James.
“That’s because you paid almost twice what the stuff you bought was worth!” he explains.
“I’ve never haggled before,” James admits.
“Never haggled…?” Miko just stares incredulously at him. “Just where do you come from that doesn’t require haggling?”
“A long, long ways I’m afraid,” he answers. “I guess I’m going to have to get the hang of it.”
“Yeah,” agrees Miko. “And if you don’t, you ain’t gonna have any money left after a while.”
James mulls over Miko’s words. He comes to the conclusion that there needs to be changes in the way he does things. Need to adapt them to this place and their customs. When in Rome… James thinks to himself.
“Where to now?” asks Miko.
“Is there a library in town?” he asks.
“The only libraries belong to the nobles,” explains Miko. “They don’t let anyone use them. Why do you need a library anyway?”
“Oh, I just like books is all.” James misses his collection of books back home. Seeing the books the scribes were copying brought back some of the homesickness that James had thought he had begun to get over.
“Is there a candy shop in town?” he suddenly asks.
“What’s candy?” responds Miko.
“Just something I use to like back when I was home,” James explains. “How about a bakery or pastry shop?”
“There are a couple bakeries,” Miko explains. “One is famous for its tarts.” He looks expectantly at James and a light enters his eyes when James nods.
“Let’s go,” James agrees. “We’ll see just how good those tarts are.”
Miko takes the lead and they are soon out of the temple district. After making several turns and walking down a couple streets, they find themselves outside a shop with a mouth watering aroma emanating from within. Hanging on the outside of the shop is a sign with a loaf of bread cut in two.
Upon entering, James sees a wide variety of breads and pastries displayed behind the counter. A fat lady in an apron is currently helping another lady so he waits patiently as he looks over the various selections.
When the lady is done, James steps to the counter and is greeted by the fat lady.
“Welcome, welcome. How may I help you today?” she asks with a warm and friendly attitude.
Patting Miko on the back he says, “My friend here tells me that you are famous for your tarts and I have come to see if he was correct.”
Beaming, the lady responds, “We do have the best tarts in town. Many of the nobles will only purchase from us because of the superior quality in all that we do.” She reaches behind her and takes a tart with red filling slightly oozing from one corner. Breaking it in two, she gives each of them half. Biting into it, James is impressed with the rich berry flavor of the filling and the flakiness of the crust.
Seeing that she is waiting expectantly for a response, he says, “This is a very good tart.” Looking over at Miko, he sees him nodding his head approvingly. “Give us a mixed variety of a dozen please,” he tells her.
Beaming with pride, she turns back to the counter and takes a sack, placing thirteen tarts of varying color and size inside. She then turns back to the counter and hands him the sack saying that it will be a silver and three coppers.
Miko nudges James in the side, who looks down. Miko mouths ‘Haggle’ silently.
James looks back at the lady and says, “Eighteen coppers.” Miko nods approvingly.
“A silver two coppers,” counters the lady.
“A silver,” James offers.
“Done,” the lady agrees. Handing over the silver, James and Miko leave the shop eating their tarts.
“Did I do it right?” James asks Miko.
“You did okay,” admits Miko, “with a little practice you can get them down even further.” Finishing off his first tart, Miko looks at James obviously wanting more so he gives him another. Saving the rest for later, he puts them in his backpack.
They stroll down the street eating their tarts, when James sees coming down the street toward them, a group of boys a little older than Miko. Feeling a tug on his sleeve, he looks at Miko who says, “C’mon, let’s go this way,” and begins dragging him down a side alley.
As they enter the ally, Miko glances around the corner at the group of boys worriedly. “What’s wrong,” James asks.
“Nothing,” replies Miko. Seeing the boys still coming in their direction, he takes James by the hand and hurries him down the alley.
“Then why are we moving quickly down this dirty alley?” he wonders, doing his best to keep up.
“It’s a shortcut,” replies Miko, his voice belying his attempt to appear casual.
“To where?” persists James.
“Wherever you’re going,” insists Miko.
As luck would have it, the group of boys enters the alley behind them. Seeing the boys coming up behind them, Miko breaks into a run as he releases James’ hand. James runs along behind Miko, not sure what is going on.
“There’s that sewer rat!” James hears from one of the boys behind them. Looking back he sees the group break into a run, racing after them.
“You’re dead, Miko!” shouts another.
“Friends of yours?” asks James as he breaks into a run, trying to keep pace with the rapidly accelerating Miko.
“No and we don’t want them to catch us either,” says Miko as he turns and leads James into another, much narrower alley. By this time Miko is in a dead run and James is doing his best to keep up but he’s never been very athletic. Dodging around corners, they try to lose them, but James realizes that they will never be able to shake them.
Racing around another corner, Miko abruptly comes to a stop. They’ve run into a dead end. A door in the left wall stands ajar; Miko pushes through it with James right behind. James glances back as he passes through the doorway and sees the boys turning into the alley, almost upon them. Slamming the door shut, he puts his weight against it to keep it closed. He no sooner gets the door closed then feels the weight of the boys slamming against it on the other side. It groaned under the impact, but held.
Looking around the dirty little room, he sees nothing that will help him with keeping the door shut. Miko has already rushed through the opposite door, leaving James in there alone. It doesn’t take him long to realize that he’ll not be able to hold the door very long against the weight of the boys.
“Open that door!” one of them yells.
“You’re not getting away from us,” another screams.
James frantically presses his weight against the door with all his might. Cracks begin forming in the wood of the door from the relentless pounding of the boys on the other side.
An idea comes to him. He concentrates and then says:
Door of wood have the strength of steel,
Allow no entry for those who would kill.
James feels the now familiar surge of power as he completes his spell. Maintaining his concentration and visualization of his desired affects, he gradually reduces the pressure he’s exerting on the door. Once he’s confident his spell is in affect and holding, he turns and practically trips over Miko, almost causing him to lose his concentration.
Miko is staring at him wide eyed and a little fearful. “You a mage!” he exclaims.
“Save it for later,” James insists. “This isn’t going to hold for long. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
As they leave the room through the other door, James says, “I thought you ran out on me.”
Looking hurt, Miko replies “I didn’t realize you weren’t following me. When I did, I came back.”
Passing through the doorway, they enter a smaller room, dirty and smelling like an outhouse. James realizes with trepidation that there is neither a window nor a door except for the one they just come through.
“Over here,” Miko hollers at him. He begins moving garbage out of the way and opens a trap door that had been concealed by the garbage covering the floor. The smell that fills the room when the trap door opens leaves little doubt as to where it leads. Miko begins to descend the ladder down into the hole when he looks over at James, almost laughing at the expression on his face. “Do you want to stay up here?” he asks.
“No,” replies James, doing his best not to breathe through his nose as he moves closer to the opening. When Miko climbs to the bottom, James begins his descent into the dark opening of the sewers.