Chapter 235: Smallport
Smallport
With no chores other than his work in the apothecary, it was early in the day when Martel went to the bridge district. Like yesterday, he could enter the unlocked yard to knock at the front door. Once admitted, he saw Flora and Marcus dressed in the garb of commoners, though he also noticed a glint of steel underneath until Marcus adjusted his sleeves.
Flora nodded towards the chain shirt hanging on a dummy. "Get your armour on. But keep the robe on top."
"We're doing this in disguise?"
"If we wear surcoats, it'll be obvious that we are guarding a cart. And if a cart has three guards…" Flora looked at him with expectation.
"… It must be valuable." Martel pulled off his robe to put the armour on.
Soon after, with the mages wielding staves and Marcus with a short sword hidden underneath his cloak, the trio set out. They followed the main road east until they passed through the gate and stood outside Morcaster. Ahead lay the bridge that crossed the river Alonde, but they turned right and walked on the road that ran alongside the city walls, going south.
They walked for more than an hour until they approached Smallport. As the name suggested, it was the lesser of two harbours. The main docks lay inside Morcaster, providing anchorage for the great vessels that traversed the open seas, whether arriving from Aquila, Sindhu, or the Western Isles.
In comparison, Smallport provided docks for the barges and boats transporting goods and people up and down the river.
Like a little town in its own right, Smallport was surrounded by walls not quite as impressive as those of Morcaster, more to deter brigands and raiders than any military assault. Walking through the gate, they were observed by a few guards, whose presence seemed mostly for show; nobody charged toll for going in or out.
Once inside the walls, the place seemed to Martel much like the harbour district. A few small warehouses took up space in between ordinary houses and numerous taverns, supplying either food, drink, or both. To his left, he saw a large array of wooden piers crossing the river, acting both as mooring for the riverboats and also as a bridge to the eastern side of Smallport.
After Flora had confirmed their shipment had yet to arrive, they found a table at a small tavern, where she bought lunch for them, and they settled in for the wait.
***
Marcus casually let a card fall from his hand to the table. Martel stared at the revealed legate, taking the point from his own prefect. "You've taken the last five points!" the novice complained. "How do you always know what card to play?"
The warrior shrugged, collecting the small pile of cards on the table.
Flora appeared. "The goods are here." She glanced at her companions playing cards. "You up to that again?"
Marcus scowled. "Don't spoil my fun."
"What?" asked Martel.
"Look at how tattered those cards are," Flora pointed out. "He's played with them a thousand times. He knows their value just by looking at the back."
Martel looked at the cards in his hand. Opposite him, Marcus broke into a grin.
"Alright, enough. Marcus, get the cart. Martel, with me."
As the warrior went one way, Martel followed Flora from the tavern to the small docks. A crane was unloading barrels from a barge.
"What's in the barrels?" Martel asked.
"That's a question you never ask the client," Flora told him. "But if anyone asks us, the answer is obvious." She took a deep breath through her nose. "Salted fish."
Martel did the same, discovering that if nothing else, the barrels certainly had the smell.
***
With Marcus holding the reins, Flora next to him on the driver's seat, and Martel in the back with the barrels, they began the return journey to Morcaster. This close to winter solstice, they encountered little traffic on the road between Smallport and the bridge gate. Looking left and up at the city walls, they could occasionally glance at the legionaries keeping watch, watching their progress.
Reaching the gate itself, one of the guards raised a hand to signal for them to stop. Unlike their colleagues patrolling the streets in the city proper, those manning the gates and walls wielded spears rather than staves. One legionary, whose uniform and helmet showed him to be an optio in rank, approached them. "What you bringing into the city?"
"Just some barrels of fish, good master." Flora opened her purse. "Happy to pay the toll."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," the optio grunted. "Open the barrels and let me see."
"We are happy to pay more," the earthmage quickly added. "Worth a pearl to some."
The soldier gave her a look. "Fine." He held out his hand, and Flora released a bundle of silver into it. "On your way."
Marcus spurred the oxen onwards, and the cart set into motion again. With some distance between them and the gate, Martel leaned forward from his position in the back. "That legionary quickly changed his mind."
Flora looked back to give him a sly smile. "One of the reasons I was keen to befriend Lady Pearl. The bridge gate is the best entry into Morcaster in our line of work. Except the harbour itself, of course."
The cart rumbled on.
***
Darkness had fallen by the time they reached the market district. Already a cold day, Martel pulled his cloak tighter around himself as it turned into a cold night. The streetlamps lit the way for a while, as long as they could follow the main roads that crossed the different districts of the city. Getting closer to the destination, however, they had to turn the cart down the smaller streets and alleys, where light was scarce.
Martel felt tempted to summon light of his own, but he knew that would only attract attention. Besides, it could not be much further.
Suddenly, Marcus pulled on the reins to stop the wagon. Wondering why, Martel turned his head to look forward. They were in a tight alley, too narrow for them to turn. Ahead some thirty paces, where the alley met the next street, another cart stood across to block the way.
Arrows began to fly.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢