Chapter 2 #2
The scent of snow hung in the air. Felmas, God of Winter, had truly settled into his reign.
The Tirlif River flowed beneath the bridge, snaking its way from here to the city’s eastern border, and then on into the Great Sea.
I avoided the city’s bustling port as often as I could.
Merchants moored their ships there, their captains prepared to ferry Valnar’s goods to far-off lands, and the damp smell of freshly caught trout was enough to wrinkle your nose, not to mention that the docks ran rife with unruly sailors who hadn’t stepped foot on land for months.
Niamh and I hurried past the grandiose homes of Valnar’s nobility, which were nestled into the foot of the hill upon which the castle sat.
They would leave Valnar after the summer solstice, retreating to their country estates until the social season started up again in midwinter.
For now, their gilded carriages racketed violently past us as their drivers urged their horses to pick up the pace.
A tangled network of alleyways led to the outskirts of the city, where the poorer folk packed themselves into humble houses thatched in straw. They weren’t much, but even the poorest of Valnar lived in better conditions than most of the folk I had known in Wealdstone.
When I first arrived in Valnar, it had taken some time for me to become accustomed to the bustling city.
My home was sleepy and quiet. I had known everyone, and they had known me, although not as well as they thought.
Valnar, on the other hand, was brimming with life.
It was noisy and colorful, if a bit dirty, I thought as I sidestepped a muddy puddle brimming with gods knew what.
In the central square, merchants of all kinds plied their goods. We squeezed past a cart stacked high with spidery yellow wintersweet, the air ripe with their lemony scent. Children laughed as they kicked around a leather ball while their mother haggled with a merchant over the price of turnips.
In the heart of the city stood a stone tower where it was said that the very first King of Valen had proclaimed an end to the civil war that preceded the kingdom’s founding.
The realm had long been at peace, barring some minor skirmishes, and the tower now held a massive brass bell that kept time for the capital’s citizens.
We ducked into the apothecary first. The place smelled of vinegar—I imagined due to some kind of concoction fermenting in the back room.
Elixirs, potions, and salves glistened on the pinewood shelves.
The apothecary kept the most valuable items behind the counter, away from sticky-fingered patrons.
He held out his wrinkled hand for my list as I approached the counter, recognizing me as palace staff from my previous visits.
His thick eyebrows furrowed as he deciphered the seneschal’s scribbles before turning to pluck the wares off of his shelves.
I tapped my fingers against the counter as we waited, then swept the items into my satchel the moment he set them down, fishing a handful of silver coins from my purse and placing them with a clink on the counter.
The apothecary nodded in approval as he gathered them into his hands.
We stopped next at the chandlery, where six tallow candles in the shape of wyverns were wrapped in paper and stuffed into my bag.
The shopkeeper seemed eager to close up, mumbling something about an incoming storm despite the clear skies above us.
It was growing late, though, and we would have to hurry if we wanted to finish our errands before the shops closed.
At the blacksmith, I bumped—quite literally—into Ewan as I rushed into the workshop. “Sorry,” I said, stepping back. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, the shop warm with heat from the massive forge in its center. Soot was sprinkled across his nose like freckles.
Niamh hovered gleefully by the door. She was out of earshot, thankfully.
“I didn’t realize you would be paying me a visit today,” Ewan said, winking.
He spoke in a brogue typical of the Lakes Region to the east that had softened after years of living in the capital.
He had traveled quite a distance to get here, but then again, perhaps not too far for an opportunity to work below one of the best blacksmiths in Valen. “Especially not so forcefully.”
“I didn’t realize you’d returned to the city,” I said, keeping my voice low.
“Just got back a few days ago. Brummings sent me halfway to the Sunken Coast for a delivery,” he explained, heat radiating off of him that had nothing to do with the forge. “You know, I might be able to convince him to give me a few minutes off.”
My mood soured at his invitation. “I’m actually here on business,” I said flatly. “So I’m afraid I don’t have a few minutes.” I held the list out to him. “The seneschal sent me for some things.”
“Understood,” he said, either unperturbed or unaware of the annoyance in my tone. He rummaged through the shelves behind him, selecting a round tin. My eyes drifted to the upstairs room where we often squirreled ourselves away. No, I thought forcefully. No time.
“Master Brummings’s special formula,” he said, handing it to me. “They’ve got you scouring the soldiers’ armor now?”
“We’re preparing for the Solstice up at the palace,” I explained. “These items are for the seneschal. Besides, the soldiers don’t wear silver.”
He grinned. “That Mackey boy is putting your nose to the anvil, eh?”
“Maxence,” I corrected.
He shrugged. “I’ve seen about a dozen of those frilly carriages flying past the window today. They’ll take someone’s eye out if they’re not careful.”
“I know what you mean,” I replied. “We nearly had our toes run over on the walk down here.”
“Shame, that,” he said, desire seeping out of his pores like honey. “I’m guessing you’ll be too busy to visit again for some time.”
I nodded. “Maybe the week after next.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I dropped the coin into his outstretched hand, our fingers brushing. “Have a good evening,” I said.
“Wait!” he called as I turned to leave. “You forgot something.”
My brows knit together as he held something out to me. It looked like some kind of dagger, sheathed in leather. Its hilt was engraved with the tail end of a serpent. “What is it?” I asked.
“A fine blade, if I do say so myself,” he replied. “Ordered special by the Lord Seneschal.”
“That wasn’t on the list,” I pointed out.
He grinned. “I know, but I was hoping you might deliver it for me. As a favor? I promise the Lord Seneschal knows it’s coming.”
“Fine,” I sighed, slipping it reluctantly into my satchel.
Ewan beamed at me. “I owe you one.”
Niamh threaded her arm through mine as we exited the shop. “So, what did you talk about?” she asked excitedly.
I groaned. “I was just buying what I was supposed to. How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not interested?”