[Reviews - 660]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2746 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
this chapter is just a little interlude.
my thanks to Ariadne for the banner and thanks to my kind reviewers
The market was big, as big as any he’d ever seen. Stalls filled with all sorts of amazing things: cloth, weaponry, spices, dyes, wine, foods that he’d only ever seen on he King’s table. A silversmith was making silver amulets, hammers and crosses, melting the sliver on a small forge at the back of his stand. The bustle was addictive, the shouts and cries of the vendors stealing his attention this way and that. There were animals for sale: chickens, goats, even a couple of cows. Horses and oxen were off to one side.
The ground was turning to mud beneath the feet of the crowds but someone had laid heather and ferns down thickly in the worst places, marking the paths with dried leaves.
The women were looking at everything as they made their way down the alleys between the stands.

Connor was pulled up short by the armourers stall, the lure of the steel being too much for him to pass by; William went over to him and the two men were joined in their mutual love of bright shiny weapons. There were fine knife blades and spear heads, arrow points, shield bosses and a wonderful sword with the herringbone signature of a pattern welded blade. William looked at the intricate blade. It was the profit from a huge estate for half a year for a blade like that. There was mail as well. Finely worked chain mail, a year’s money for the estate he grew up on. The smith was skilled.

Connor and William were still discussing the different weapons when they realised the women were missing. Uninterested in weaponry they had moved onto the silversmith and were looking through his beads and jewellery. Connor and William caught up with them as Buffy was haggling for a fine set of green glass beads. She had already stacked up in front of her three beautifully worked glass goblets. William had never seen their like. They were amazing. He had seen glass, worked from roman deposits into beads and the like, but these goblets were drinking vessels, with stands to hold them while the hands were busy.

Buffy had also set aside some lovely finely worked arm rings and a necklace, as well as horn tops and scabbard fittings. She was spending a fortune and all Connor did was smile.

‘If my mother or sister bought that much my brother would be having a fit; you are awfully calm about this.’ William commented to Connor.

‘It’s not my money, she’s spending nothing but her own at the moment, profit from her summer. When she starts on my purse, believe me I will be a lot less understanding about the amount of goods on the bench.’ He laughed.

William smiled: even the thought of a woman in charge of her own money seemed strange to him. Buffy appeared pleased with the deal on offer and called Connor over. He removed a leather purse from underneath his overtunic and handed it across to Buffy, who quickly dived in and started stacking up hacksilver on the bench in front of the grizzled man in front of her. They argued for a few minutes, then Buffy added a couple more small pieces of silver to the pile in front of her. The man carefully weighed it on a set of balances. Buffy pulled out a set of her own weights and balances and the whole lot was measured again. They weighed the same in both sets of scales. It was a fortune to William’s eyes. The man spat in his hand, as did Buffy and the deal was sealed.

‘Why did Buffy weigh the silver again?’ William asked Connor quietly. They watched Faith for a few moments as she looked through the charms and jewels. Buffy put a piece of worked amber quietly onto the table and without argument handed over two penny-weights of silver. The man nodded, and hid the amber in her purchases.

‘She was checking his weights, making sure they were true. There have been cases of light weight before and she was just being careful,’ Connor answered.

The glass goblets were wrapped in fleece and then pieces of woollen cloth before being slipped into wooden cases, securely tied and put with the rest of the purchases which had been placed in a bag for the Lady Buffy.

Buffy grabbed a nearby runner, a youth who had a handcart and was walking up and down the market These boys were all over the market, earning extra by carrying goods. ‘Half a silver penny and a meal if you run just for me,’ Buffy said. The boy nodded and made a grab for the boxes but Buffy stopped him.

‘No, not that, you’ve got the bag. Next stop: spice stall.’

He loaded the bag onto his cart and Buffy placed the boxes in there as well, ensuring they couldn’t move. The boy then followed Buffy through the crowd.

‘What if he runs off with her goods?’ William asked.

‘He’s stupid. Where would he run to? And if he was caught he would be made a real example of. Better to earn the money and get fed and do as the lady asks. Buffy will be finished before dusk, he might work for three or four people in one day. He makes good money.’

They went past a pole-lather, busy making turned wooden cups and selling them from a small table by his side. There were fancy benches and tables for sale as well as small items: bowls, spoons and toys for children.

When they got to the spice stall, Buffy feigned interest. She sniffed at the different spices on offer, but from the set of her shoulders wasn’t impressed by what she saw. The haggling here took longer, if possible. Buffy didn’t like the quality of the saffron on offer and refused to buy anything.

‘Smells musty and old,’ she whispered to Faith, who nodded and led the way to a small stall near the back of the market.

There the spices were fresh and beautiful. Cinnamon, galingale, ginger, and other exotic and expensive spices were bought by the pound. Then the spice merchant called over a guard. He brought with him a small chest, which was unlocked in front of both women. There was black pepper. Enough to fund a small war, William thought to himself.
Buffy and Faith were enquiring the price of a quarter pound of the most rare spice.

It would be a full pound of silver for one quarter of a pound of pepper. Connor put his hand over Buffy’s and shook his head before the deal was struck.

He moved them away from listening ears and whispered, ‘Dunmail can get it to us more cheaply and fresher, he’s coming in from the Caliphates next season. I brought enough back to last us.’

Buffy nodded and thanked the man for his time, bought what she’d already chosen but left the pepper on the stall. She’d wait for the good stuff from Dunmail. The boy loaded the precious spices aboard his cart and they headed off again at a fast pace; Faith however stayed and looked with longing at the ginger. She loved ginger cakes but the spice boxes, like everything else in her old hall, were run nearly bare.

Connor turned back to her. ‘I’ll give you some before you go: you can repay me next year in salt.’ Faith smiled her thanks. She didn’t feel like it was charity and salt she could afford if she had to dry it from the sea herself.

The crowds were getting bigger if anything. William trailed after Buffy and Faith. There was a shout from one side and a child of no more than ten was held up by the scruff of the neck by one huge warrior.

‘Damn pick pocket!’ he cried and shook the lad until he cried out. A couple of the Jarl’s men made their way over and took the boy away and applied a good beating to him.

‘Something else for the Jarl to deal with: only hope it’s the lad’s first time. It’ll be a branding or hand removed if it isn’t. No time for thieves, has Leif.’ Connor noted to William, then hurried to catch up with the women again. At least the way the Norse dealt with thieves was familiar to William.

They found the women by a heaving mass of humanity. The stall held linens from Ireland and wools from his homeland. They brought an ache to his heart to see herringbone twill as his mother had woven it. There were fine ten-heddle patterns, exquisite in their complexity.

The woollen stall was crowded with women pushing and shoving each other out of the way, trying to get served. There seemed to be three or four men all trying to serve different people, measuring and cutting fabric, folding it and taking the money.
.
William looked in horror at the pile of bodies and wondered how on earth Buffy and Faith were going to make it to the front. And how many the pair of them would kill to do so.

Buffy smiled at the heaving mass and signalled to Faith. They made their way around the side and went up to the man who was standing there watching the heaving mass with a smile on his face. Buffy put her arms around him and hugged him hard. William felt a little jealous but Connor just grinned.

‘Brokk, you saved me the good stuff?’

The man squealed like a woman and hugged Buffy back, opening his arms to envelop Faith in the hug as well.

‘Girl you look great, I have got some wonderful stuff for you,’ he sounded more woman than man and walked with a woman’s step. He left his men serving at the stall and took Buffy and Faith around to a wagon pulled up nearby. He pulled back the cover to reveal bolt after bolt of wonderful, richly dyed, finely woven cloth.

Connor looked at William. ‘Now THIS IS going to cost me a fortune,’ he grinned.

Buffy had dived into the wagon so far that her feet were actually off the ground. William went to help her back onto her feet, but instead she wiggled and dug herself deeper in. She looked like she was swimming. Faith, hampered by her arm, was trying to climb up as well. Connor and William got a sight of Buffy’s legs as she fell completely into the cart. Brokk just laughed, as did Connor; even William forgot his manners for a moment to enjoy not only the view of Buffy’s bare legs but the sight of her squirming to try to right herself. Faith started swearing softly as she struggled to get up and examine the wonderful fabric. William made his way over and lifted her up onto the wagon seat before helping Buffy regain her dignity. But Buffy was happy. She pulled out a bolt of teal green thick fabric, richly double dyed, and set it aside. Then there was white and red patterned fabric: William knew enough to know that was months of work for a master weaver. Buffy simply put it aside onto the green. She then added two bolts of plain undyed linen and one of deep blue. There was some silk but Buffy put it aside: she had plenty at home. She did grab a diamond weave woven in the grease. She wanted some spare to make Faith a new cloak. The pile in the cart was huge. She grinned at Brokk.

‘How much?’

He looked at the pile of fabric: six bolts of cloth. He looked at Buffy and the grin on her face.

‘Half a pound of silver.’

Buffy burst out laughing, she loved a man with a sense of humour. ‘I will give you five silver pennies and no more.’

Brokk grinned back at her. They sat on the edge of his wagon and started haggling. Brokk knew what the cloth was worth: about a tenth of what he had asked for. 14 silver pennies was more than enough but he enjoyed bartering with Buffy.

‘60 silver pennies and not a fourthling less.’

Buffy looked at his cart full of material. ‘Fair price,’ she said, ‘for the lot,’ pointing at the wagon.

Brokk frowned. Buffy jumped to her feet and pulled out a couple of bolts of undyed, heavy linen. ‘Add this to the pile and I’ll give you ten silver pennies.’

‘Thirty.’

‘Twelve!’

‘Twenty eight…’

‘Fourteen?’

They continued arguing, with Buffy adding to the pile. Thick, rough-woven woollen cloth and another of finer wool.

Connor knew what she was doing, stocking up her sister with the basics she would need to refurbish her hall. Faith had told her that Maggie had taken down the loom because it was in the way. She hadn’t even plucked the sheep the year before.

Faith looked at her foster sister, she knew what Buffy was doing as well: she would owe her big time. But give her five years and that hall would be making more than enough money. There were animals for trapping, furs worth chasing, timber for cutting, fish for the taking and she knew where the honey trees were. All it needed was a firm hand and now she had the keys, that hand was on its way.

William and Connor followed Buffy and Faith through the market. She found some sweetmeats and bought enough for everyone; live chickens in a basket were added to the ever-growing pile.

It was a tired party that arrived back at the booth. Buffy paid the lad his half penny for his work and Xander handed him a plate of thick stew, with fresh bread on the other side.
The boy sat and wolfed the food down, then thanked Buffy before leaving with his now empty cart.





You must login (register) to review.