Beam Street Bargain
Chapter twenty-one
Finn hopped out of the carriage before the coachman could open the door for him.
He breathed in the briny air. There was a tinge of smoke on the breeze that made his mouth water.
It smelled of warm spices, with a hint of sweetness.
He determined his reward for such a trying morning would be to stop by one of the vendor stalls and get a fillet of smoked fish.
Perhaps he would find a baker as well and purchase a loaf of crusty bread to go with it.
Before he could be further distracted by the sights and sounds of the dockside, Finn extended a hand toward his wife, who was still in the vehicle. She ignored his proffered palm and alighted from the carriage on her own, causing Finn to shake his head.
Stubborn woman. He wanted to do as Wren had suggested.
To be patient. Finn was not known for patience, though he employed it more than his father thought.
True, he acted on instinct at times, but that mostly worked in his favor.
When it did not, he was called impulsive.
Such was the trade-off. He’d become used to it over the twenty-four years of his life.
His instincts were absent when it came to Lucianna.
She was so very different from him. Finn preferred to address everything head-on.
To jump into a problem and find the solution.
To talk it out. To talk in general. Thus far, his wife preferred the opposite.
Though she was blunt in her mannerisms and judgments, she also danced around problems so well it could have been a Gift.
She was content with silence, perhaps even enjoyed it if the expression she wore on their way to the docks was of any consequence.
They’d not spoken a word on the ride over. Finn had felt the silence like a hand around his throat. He had to fight the urge to provoke Lucianna just to get her to talk to him. For he suspected that she would not hold casual conversation with him.
Even now, she said nothing, just surveyed the busy street with a keen eye.
“Thank you, Togsworth,” Finn said to their coachman, his voice raised over the din of the market. “We will meet back here soon enough. Feel free to browse in the meantime.” He dug into his pocket and produced a few Enclavian gold pieces to pass to the young man.
The coachman’s green eyes lit with delight. He shoved the pieces into the pocket of his black uniform coat.
“Thank you, Lord Valengard!”
Finn dipped his chin, then turned his attention back to his wife.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm. She raised an obstinate brow. “We are newly married, Lucianna. If someone were to recognize us . . .”
With a sigh lined in exasperation, she took his arm. Her touch was light, but Finn felt the warmth of her palm seep beneath his skin and set his nerves aflame all the same. A frustrating occurrence, given that she despised him.
“Caldwell said he works for Barrister,” Finn reminded Lucianna. “He owns a pier on the far end of the docks. We’ll likely find him there.”
She nodded. “Lead the way.”
They started down Beam Street, making slow progress given the thick crowds of people and merchants.
Unlike the Luster District, people here did not move with purpose.
Rather, they meandered, their paths constantly shifting when they laid eyes on a new vendor stall or saw a friend they wished to speak to.
Merchants yelled to grab the easily swayed’s attention and haggled their wares to anyone who paused for even a moment in front of their booth.
If someone ventured too close, they might even snag a shopper’s sleeve.
It was impossible for carriages to travel down Beam Street, hence why Finn had Togsworth drop them off at the start of it.
The walk to the docks would be long, but there was no way around it.
And that was the point. Anyone who traveled in this area was forced to walk past the vendors, taverns, and bakeries that occupied the long stretch of cobblestone road.
Merchants counted on such visits to feed their households.
“Best bread on Beam Street!” a man bellowed as they passed. Finn noted the blue-and-white patterned awning. He would judge their words once their task was complete.
The road began to slope downward, as did the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. At the crest of the hill, Finn glimpsed the masts of ships and dozens upon dozens of dockworkers and sailors milling about the various long piers. They maneuvered with care down to the dockside, so as to not tumble.
As they neared the boats, the sound of merchants’ shouts and friendly conversation dulled.
It was replaced by the slapping of water against wooden pilings and the calls of seagulls circling above.
Grisled workers in worn trousers and untucked shirts lumbered by.
They paid no mind to Finn and Lucianna. Perhaps some of the merchants who owned companies would recognize one or both of them, but low-level sailors or dockworkers would not know them from any other noble.
Finn was grateful for the morning chill, as the lengthy walk would otherwise be uncomfortable.
He turned their path onto a pristinely kept wooden pier.
There were no missing slats or protruding nails.
Old man Barrister was a man of pride and principle.
He’d been running his construction business for the better part of forty years.
The quality of his materials and work were unmatched.
He’d worked on various parts of the castle, and the man was so meticulous that his work matched the older portions of the castle as though it had all been built at the same time.
There was a large ship anchored at the far end of the dock, and Finn spotted the old man’s signature yellow coat aboard it.
“Mr. Barrister!” Finn shouted as he and Lucianna neared the ship.
They stepped aside as a broad-chested man carried a wooden crate past them.
Finn held Lucianna close to him. Though Eventide made the waters safe to travel, that did not make them safe to swim.
Creatures of all vicious makes lurked beneath the piers, waiting to devour whatever fell in.
Be it a fisherman’s lost catch or a person who stepped wrongfully.
To fall in didn’t mean certain death, but it tempted it.
In fact, not long ago, a story had made its rounds about a young dockworker who was yanked off the edge of a pier by a dygen—humanoid creatures covered in reptilian flesh with long claws protruding from their fingers.
They weren’t known to behave in such a manner, so there was great debate on if he’d been attacked or simply drank too much and fell in.
Either way, he barely lived to tell his tale, saved by a few men who pulled him out before the creature could drag him out of reach.
The yellow-clad man turned toward them and squinted through the thin mist.
“What are you doing on my dock, boy? You supposed to be holed up with that pretty wife of yours, so I hear!”
Finn cringed at the loud proclamation. Lucianna stiffened.
“Apologies. What he lacks in decorum he makes up for in kindness,” Finn murmured to his wife.
“It is not decorum I worry about, but discretion,” she replied tightly.
“Is this her?” Barrister boomed as he limped down the gangplank. “Didn’t your father teach you that women like delicate things? You should be taking her to a jewelry shop in Lumen, not standing on my pier!”
Finn released his wife to hug the man with a laugh.
“I’m afraid the shopping will have to wait. We have a matter of import to discuss with you.”
His bushy gray brows rose, further crinkling his weathered, tan forehead.
“And what might you need from an old man such as myself? Are you building a country home for the wife?” Barrister turned to Lucianna and offered a hunched bow. “Pleased to meet you, my lady.”
Lucianna dipped her chin. “You as well, kind sir.” She folded her gloved hands in front of her dress. “We’re actually here to inquire of a Mr. Petals. We were told he works for you.”
Barrister frowned over his scraggly salt-and-pepper beard.
“Is he in some sort of trouble? As far as I know he’s the upstanding sort. You know I don’t hire miscreants.”
Finn shook his head with a smile.
“No trouble at all. We wish to speak with him about a job opportunity.”
Barrister chuckled.
“I see! You want to steal my strong man. I suppose I can’t stop him if he leaves, but I don’t know that I want to lead you right to him either. He’s one of my best workers.”
Finn threw an arm around Barrister and let his Gift flow.
“Now, is that any way to treat a newly married friend? View it as a wedding gift! We’d greatly appreciate it.” He squeezed the man’s shoulder. “Celebrate with us, and I’ll send you a bottle of berry wine from the royal cellar as a thank-you.”
Barrister’s grin turned mischievous.
“Three bottles.”
“Two,” Finn countered, winking at Lucianna, who was watching the conversation with veiled interest.
“Fine. Shake on it.”
They slapped their palms together and shook firmly. Barrister’s grin widened.
“I would have settled for one.”
Finn chuckled. “I would have given you three.” He withdrew his hand. “Now, where is this Mr. Petals?”
Barrister nodded his head toward the ship.
“I’ll take you to ’im.”