Bane suddenly. 'You're off in the past again - so I'll see you in the near future.'
He galloped off towards the south-west and the stockaded town.
As with many Keltoi settlements the town of Sighing Water bore no sense of overall design or planning. The original Norvii settlement of some twenty homes had been built close to a stream that flowed from the hills, cascading over a series of white rocks and down to a pear-shaped lake. Positioned as it was less than twelve miles from the eastern coast and close to a river leading to a wide estuary it soon became a place of commerce.
Timber was plentiful, the surrounding land rich and verdant, and soon the town began to grow. With the lowlands ideal for corn, the higher ground for cattle, sheep and goats, Sighing Water thrived. More and more houses were built. When iron ore and coal deposits were found less than two miles away the settlement swelled even further.
Now some three thousand people dwelt within the stockaded town, with more than four thousand more in the surrounding countryside. There were warehouses, shops, stalls, forges, clothing makers, leatherworkers, jewellers, and merchants of every kind. There were mills, tanneries, wagon makers, horse breeders, and a host of allied trades, including a fleet of horse-drawn barges to ferry goods to the coast.
At seventeen Bane had never seen such a sprawling town. He had thought Old Oaks large, but there were twice as many people here, and as he rode in through the open gates he felt uncomfortable, as if the sheer weight of multitudes was closing in on him. Pushing such thoughts aside he located a hostler and left his grey in the man's care, asking that the beast be rubbed down and grain-fed.
The hostler, a middle-aged, round-shouldered man, asked if he planned to sell the gelding. Bane told him no.
'You could get a fine sum, boy. He's powerful and keen of eye. Is he fast?'
'He likes to run,' said Bane. 'Tell me, where is the best earth maiden?'
'The best what?' queried the man.
The response surprised the youngster. 'Earth maiden,' he said more slowly, wondering if his Rigante accent had confused the man.
'I do not know the term, boy.'
'Young women who offer . . . company to a man.'
'Ah, whores you mean? Aye, there are plenty of those. But it is the week's end, and the coal and iron workers are here in force. You'll be lucky to find a whore who hasn't already got her legs locked around a man's hips.
You'll have no luck in the taverns, I'll tell you that for free. You could try the northern quarter. The expensive ones are up there.'
'Expensive?'
'Ten silver pieces for an hour's pleasure, so they say. And a single night costs a gold.'
'I'll try the taverns. I need a bed for the night anyway.'
'Avoid the Green Ghost,' warned the man. 'It's a place of trouble and violence. The Swallow is a good tavern, and they give a man a fine breakfast.'
Bane thanked him, and asked directions. As he was doing so Banouin came riding up.
A short time later the two men were strolling through a packed marketplace, and heading up a wending hill path towards a group of buildings set round an open square. The first of the buildings, the Green Ghost tavern, was large, around a hundred feet long, with two storeys under a thatched roof. Several men were sitting in the fading sunshine outside, nursing pottery jugs of ale. They looked up as the newcomers approached.
'Just what we needed, now the women have run out,' said one, a sour-faced individual, his face seamed with dark coal scars. 'Two pretty boys fresh from the farm.'
Bane paused and laughed. 'Look, Banouin,' he said brightly. 'There's a sight you don't see very often - a man who can fart through his mouth.' He crouched down in front of the miner, and dipped his finger into the man's ale. Then he licked it. 'Good ale,' he said. The man's eyes opened wide. Bane laughed at him, then rose smoothly and moved inside the tavern. There were some thirty long bench tables, most of them
He galloped off towards the south-west and the stockaded town.
As with many Keltoi settlements the town of Sighing Water bore no sense of overall design or planning. The original Norvii settlement of some twenty homes had been built close to a stream that flowed from the hills, cascading over a series of white rocks and down to a pear-shaped lake. Positioned as it was less than twelve miles from the eastern coast and close to a river leading to a wide estuary it soon became a place of commerce.
Timber was plentiful, the surrounding land rich and verdant, and soon the town began to grow. With the lowlands ideal for corn, the higher ground for cattle, sheep and goats, Sighing Water thrived. More and more houses were built. When iron ore and coal deposits were found less than two miles away the settlement swelled even further.
Now some three thousand people dwelt within the stockaded town, with more than four thousand more in the surrounding countryside. There were warehouses, shops, stalls, forges, clothing makers, leatherworkers, jewellers, and merchants of every kind. There were mills, tanneries, wagon makers, horse breeders, and a host of allied trades, including a fleet of horse-drawn barges to ferry goods to the coast.
At seventeen Bane had never seen such a sprawling town. He had thought Old Oaks large, but there were twice as many people here, and as he rode in through the open gates he felt uncomfortable, as if the sheer weight of multitudes was closing in on him. Pushing such thoughts aside he located a hostler and left his grey in the man's care, asking that the beast be rubbed down and grain-fed.
The hostler, a middle-aged, round-shouldered man, asked if he planned to sell the gelding. Bane told him no.
'You could get a fine sum, boy. He's powerful and keen of eye. Is he fast?'
'He likes to run,' said Bane. 'Tell me, where is the best earth maiden?'
'The best what?' queried the man.
The response surprised the youngster. 'Earth maiden,' he said more slowly, wondering if his Rigante accent had confused the man.
'I do not know the term, boy.'
'Young women who offer . . . company to a man.'
'Ah, whores you mean? Aye, there are plenty of those. But it is the week's end, and the coal and iron workers are here in force. You'll be lucky to find a whore who hasn't already got her legs locked around a man's hips.
You'll have no luck in the taverns, I'll tell you that for free. You could try the northern quarter. The expensive ones are up there.'
'Expensive?'
'Ten silver pieces for an hour's pleasure, so they say. And a single night costs a gold.'
'I'll try the taverns. I need a bed for the night anyway.'
'Avoid the Green Ghost,' warned the man. 'It's a place of trouble and violence. The Swallow is a good tavern, and they give a man a fine breakfast.'
Bane thanked him, and asked directions. As he was doing so Banouin came riding up.
A short time later the two men were strolling through a packed marketplace, and heading up a wending hill path towards a group of buildings set round an open square. The first of the buildings, the Green Ghost tavern, was large, around a hundred feet long, with two storeys under a thatched roof. Several men were sitting in the fading sunshine outside, nursing pottery jugs of ale. They looked up as the newcomers approached.
'Just what we needed, now the women have run out,' said one, a sour-faced individual, his face seamed with dark coal scars. 'Two pretty boys fresh from the farm.'
Bane paused and laughed. 'Look, Banouin,' he said brightly. 'There's a sight you don't see very often - a man who can fart through his mouth.' He crouched down in front of the miner, and dipped his finger into the man's ale. Then he licked it. 'Good ale,' he said. The man's eyes opened wide. Bane laughed at him, then rose smoothly and moved inside the tavern. There were some thirty long bench tables, most of them
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