Chapter 69: Night Market Pienti (1)


    Defi had thought the night market to be the regr marketce set up withmps.


    It was and was not.


    He could see a number of the regr stalls from the dawn market here and there. The rest were unfamiliar, like the stall selling a range of knives in various shape, and the one professing to sell a hundred types of spices, and the one offering clockwork items.


    The dawn market he knew was energetic, full of the vigor of the waking day. The night market was also energetic, but a morenguorous kind of vigor, like a stalking cat.


    He wondered if it had a simr energy all the time or this night''s atmosphere was because of the news of the fall of the des.


    Groups of people crowded thenes between the lines of stalls, the conversation between thembining in Defi''s ears to add a buzz to the liveliness of the night.


    Here and there, the night rang with songs and shouts of cheer.


    The ale flowed freely.


    A group of soldiers, mugs of foaming drinks in hand, were bellowing out a song, to the apaniment of a rather exasperated-looking lute yer.


    "everywhere I look around, what misery to be found, ah!


    "A mist shrouding barren grey rocks in darkness!


    "My beloved is in Jebrimea, I always sleep alone, ha!


    "Console me, let me drown in brief merriness!


    "The pledge of love given to me is at the dice board lost, hey!


    "s! I dearly want my love and also want my pay!"


    From the other end of the marketce, there was a faint hint of mournfully blowing pipes that oddly went very well between the unsubtle music of the soldier''s song. Defi inclined an ear in that direction; it sounded like someone was singing a love song of some sort.


    Despite the music and merriment there was a quiet undercurrent flowing through the night market, as townspeople lifted theirrge mugs of ale, as they put their heads together to gossip, as they chivvied their children to the brighter parts of the night market where most of the food stalls were set up with long tables.


    Defi stood at the very edge of shadow and watched the familiar proceedings. He had gone on bandit suppression expeditions before, patrolling the boundaries of the city with the Watch as a senior student of the learning halls.


    At the end of every expedition, the warriors would get together for food, wine, song, andpany. It appeared that in this, Ascharon and Ontrea were not so different.


    Why was today so insistent, he wondered, of giving him reminders of thend and people who were now lost to him?


    Warriors rxing after a battle could be vtile, so Defi wandered a bit further from them, looking around the stalls. A food-seller with a crowd around him caught his eye. He ambled toward it. If there was a crowd, the food should be delicious.


    A few minutester, he was rewarded with a small bowl of what the stall keeper assured him was the best roasted cane-grub in Havare province. He eased from the crowd eagerly waiting their turn. He silently considered the bowl of plump grubs the size of his thumb. They smelled appetizingly of smoke and spices, but admittedly he had never eaten insects before.


    He heard an amused snort from nearby.


    Cuthes smirked at him, then nced to the side as his amusement deepened. Defi followed his gaze to see Cor, who looked bewildered as he stared at a simr bowl in his hand.


    Jorne was already stoically eating his bowl. He only nodded at Defi, before sticking his skewer into another grub and biting down.


    "What are they?"


    "Cane grubs. They hatch out of cane moth eggs. Very nice vor. They''re usually crushed to make the Lemnes cream so popr in the cities." Cuthes relished the disbelieving revtion on Jorne and Cor''s faces.


    "I wonder how my sister and her coterie would react after she learns this," murmured Cor, a look of glee dawning on his face. "These are excellent grubs!"


    "You haven''t even tasted it yet." Defi pointed out.


    Cor looked at the untouched bowl in Defi''s hand disdainfully.


    Defi narrowed his eyes.


    They measured each other challengingly.


    In sync, they skewered a grub at the same time and brought it to their mouths.


    Defi bit down. The outside of the grub crunched lightly, the smoky spice from the roasting spreading across his tongue. The inside however, burst with a nutty creaminess that had him pause and swirl the thick silky substance around so the taste wouldst.


    Not bad.


    "It really is Lemnes cream." Cor stared at his bowl, then skewered another grub. "I thought it was made from the milk of Lemnes cows."


    Cuthes shrugged. "It probably is. Only, there''s cane grub in it as well."


    Cor looked at all the stalls in awe, then a determined look came over his face. He pointed to a stall. "Can we go to that one next?"


    "I heard there''s a stall selling crickets in sauce around here," Cuthes said casually.


    "Lead on." Cor''s eyes sparkled.


    Defi tipped the bowl of grub into his mouth, finishing them off. Sauced crickets, he''d try them if he didn''t see the gleeful look in Cuthes'' eyes. He nced at Jorne, who was looking suspiciously at the adjutant as well.


    The man wouldn''t let Cuthes have too much fun, so Defi wasn''t worried that Cor would actually eat his way through all the strangest Lowpool food he could find.


    He ced the container into a bucket full of other used bowls near the stall, then casually slipped away in the direction opposite the stall Cuthes was indicating.


    Apart from food, Defi needed to rece the baskets and bottles that were smashed in his underground storage room. The two one-year casks he acquired from the woodshop were destroyed along with the rest of his extra barrels. He could not help the re of anger again.


    At least the barrels of slime extract and most of the slimes had survived.


    He took a deep breath and walked along thenes, focusing on looking at the wares of the night market.


    With the mayor''s open invitation, it looked like half the town was packed into the marketce and the central square.


    The spots where food stalls abounded had the highest number of people, so the ces that didn''t sell eatables were rtively quiet.


    The night market was lit withmps hung on stall posts. Crystalmps were bright, their clear cold bluish white light brighter by far than the warm yellow of oilmps.


    The warm mes from oilmps, more numerous than the other, flickered to make the shadows dance. The crystalmps made shadows flee into dark corners with their steadfast sharp glow; the shadows they created were darker and deeper. The two kinds of light battled between the stalls, creating a strange pulsing of light and shadow with every flicker of me.


    The stalls of the marketce were arranged in parallel lines, with breaks between them that people might freely walk between the mainnes.


    In a number of stalls, themp-shades were ced as to put the seller in shadow and the wares in light.


    There was no delineation, Defi saw, between the stalls that strove to keep to themselves and those that dealt in the bright light. That Jorne would definitely have more suspicions should he see such arrangements.


    The night was cold, from the breezes blowing in from theke and the afternoon rain. But between the lines of stalls, the air was warmed by human heat.


    He stopped at another popr stall, didn''t hesitate before buying skewers of fried duck gizzard and grilled blood squares, and wandered the night market while eating.


    A faintly familiar voice caused him to look over. Jast, the glyph shop owner, was arguing with a stall keeper. Defi wandered slightly closer when he saw that the stall was covered in glyph designs and Emblem patterns.


    The stall keeper was shorter than the average Ascharonian. He sported a long braided goatee, and a muscled frame that he deliberately drew attention to as he crossed his arms and red at Jast.


    "It''s the pattern that''s important."


    Jast huffed. "And you think everyone can read an Emblem correctly? How can you be sure these things won''t blow up in people''s faces."


    "You think I''d sell defectives?" The goatee man shook at the insult.


    "With such sloppy pen control, everything is defective!"


    "What did you say?!"


    "Are you interested in the moon peppers, young sir?"


    Defi nced up at the disconnected question. He realized he had stopped at a spice stall to eavesdrop. The moon peppers, pale and curled into crescents, were only one of the many spices in therge stall.


    He looked around, noting the serious faces of the buyers. Rocso, who cooked at the only tavern in town Defi knew about, was one of them, frowning at a wooden box full of a golden yellow powder.


    By now the town''s lone spice shop would be closed, as most shops closed just after sundown. These spice-sellers must be from a caravan. The number of people around the stall said that it was doing brisk business.


    The spice-seller who asked the question, one of three who were manning the stall, saw his look and misunderstood.


    "Ah, perhaps this one, then? One ud a grane, ckspice from beyond the Gate!"


    Defi paused, looked at the wooden boxes of the spice seller. In one of them, it was indeed ckspice. Something twisted in his chest.


    He shook his head and focused on the details. One ud a grane  that came to fifty silver crescents a kilogar. It was cheaper by at least a fourth whenpared to the shop prices.


    The cylindrical silver crescent coin was about ten grane of silver. A kilogar of silver made into coin would effect 100 crescents. His lips quirked. He thought Garun was exaggerating, but ckspice in Ascharon truly did cost its weight in silver.


    The ckspice looked to be of good quality, well-dried, the wrinkled outer skin of the small circr berries was flexible and not powdery.


    "I assure you, young sir, the very finest spice! Carefully grown in the very best farms!"


    If it were yesterday, he would acquire as much as he could, wanting to taste once more the vors of Ontrea. Today, his stomach rebelled at the thought.


    Not to mention, ckspice was too expensive for him at the moment. A fine thing, for someone who used to be able to gorge himself on ckspice vored food everyday.


    He thought about his finances and tried not to grimace.


    All he had at this point was 102 crescents, 18 ud, and 6 rond. It was an amount more than many in Ascharon would earn in a year. But considering the one-year casks he needed to rece, it was not enough. A one-year quartel cask would take half of that amount already.


    He nodded at the spice-seller politely, and walked off.


    He bit into thest of the blood squares and threw the skewers away.


    **


    **


    *


    Notes:


    Grane  the smallest unit of weight in Ascharon. A thousand grane makes one kilogar.


    Quartel  a barrel size containing 25 litr of volume, a quarter the size of a cental.


    Cental  a barrel size, containing 100 litr of volume.