3 Mr. Tavern-keeper, I want two cheese snacks!

The first impression that Estergat made on me was unforgettable. Even from a distance, one could see the sea of houses rising and rising on the huge Rock. The Imperial Road that led north from the city was so crowded with carts and people that my ears were deafened and buzzed like bumblebees. The puppies poked their heads out of the crate, curious, and I did the same, clinging to one edge of the cart. Dirasho had already told me twice not to bend over too much, but I kept forgetting.

We crossed the Estergat River once, and then again, through the Gates of Moralion, as Hishiwa called them. We were climbing a wide, noisy street when he called out:

“And this is the Esplanade!” We had just come out onto a huge square. “Look! That’s the Manticore Fountain. Do you see the creature?”

I saw it, petrified, with an impressive stream of water gushing from its huge mouth. I opened my eyes wide in awe, and hoped that the ferilompard would not look like that. Old Dirasho stopped the cart not far from the manticore.

“I suppose you’ll know how to get to your uncle’s glassworks from here, won’t you?” he said.

“Yes, sir, it’s not far,” Hishiwa assured. And after patting White-Nose, he descended with a nimble hop. “Thank you so much for taking us!”

“You’re welcome, lad, you’ve brightened my trip with so many questions,” he said with a smile. “What about you, kid?” he added as I slid down next to Hishiwa, the Red Fox in my arms. “Do you know where to go?”

I shrugged, and Hishiwa said:

“I’ll give him a hand, don’t worry, sir.”

“Well. Hey, kid, give me back the Red Fox, it’s not for you, it’s for my niece’s daughter, you understand?”

I bit my lip and nodded in disappointment. I gave him the puppy, and old Dirasho put his hand to his hat.

“Good luck, boys!”

He waved the reins, and the cart soon disappeared amidst the tumult of people, wheels, and quadrupeds.

“Well?” Hishiwa said to me. “Do you know which way your house is?”

I looked around. And I looked up at a large tree without branches. I pointed to it.

“What a funny tree!”

Hishiwa smiled.

“No wonder. It’s a street lamp, not a tree. It’s used to light the streets. You’ll see it soon: it’ll be dark before long. Well, listen, follow me to the glass factory. Maybe my uncle has an idea how to find your people.”

I nodded and, making sure that I still had my bag and blanket, followed my companion. I was amazed at what I saw. Suddenly, I exclaimed:

“Oh, no, my stick!”

I had left it in the cart. I turned around and ran off. Hishiwa shouted something behind me. I went back to the Esplanade and followed the path which I thought old Dirasho had taken. After a while, I realized that I had no idea how to find him among so many people.

I looked around, and a dull fear came over me when I didn’t see Hishiwa anywhere. Where could he be? I turned back, but it was a long time before I found the Esplanade. I climbed the manticore fountain, scanned the area… Nothing, my companion was nowhere to be seen. Well, how could I have imagined that one day I would lose a companion simply because I had lost sight of him in a sea of sajits?

“What a crowd!” I exclaimed.

Suddenly I saw a light appear. I looked up at the illuminated lamp post and smiled in wonder as I saw a man light another.

“Wow, it sure is beautiful,” I muttered.

Only then did I realize that it was getting dark, and I had not yet found any shelter. I started down a wide street when I saw a tree at the end of another. With a sigh of relief I ran towards it, but found that it was too thin, so I kept looking. I walked for a while along a deserted path that ran along the Estergat River, and finding no trees, I asked myself: what should I do? My master said that the stars guide the lost man, so I stopped and looked up at the stars, but because of the light or whatever, I could not see them. There I was, straining to look for them, when a child a little older than I, with a crooked cap on his head and his hands on his hips, stepped in my way.

“Wait a minute, shyur… are your clothes made of skins?”

I arched an eyebrow when I saw him reach for my clothes. I nodded.

“Rabbit skins, yes.”

“Damn! Did you hunt them?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, come on,” he laughed. I noticed that he was missing a tooth. “What about this blanket?”

“It’s rabbit skin, too,” I replied.

“Is it warm?”

“Not as much as before,” I confessed.

He snorted, as if I had said something funny.

“Tell me. Where do you plough the deep?”

“What?”

“Where did you sleep last night,” he specified.

I shrugged.

“In the forest.”

“In the forest?” He laughed. “In a park or in a real forest?”

“In a real forest,” I said.

“Um. I see. And you come all this way every day?”

I shook my head.

“I just got here.”

“Ah! I understand. What about your folks?” I shrugged. He shook his head. “And you’re going back into the forest in the dark? Do you have kabor eyes?”

“Kawhat?”

“Kabor, shyur, kabor. It is an animal on two legs that lives along the paths and goes out to look for haddocks of gold beans to fill its own. He didn’t get that,” he laughed at my confused expression. “Now seriously: you lend me a spot under your blanket and we share the shelter. What do you say?”

He did not wait for my answer. He walked away, beckoning me to follow him. And I did.

He led me to the porch of a house, a shelter so well protected from the wind that it reminded me of a hollow tree, and I liked it. My companion lay down, I lay down, and he pulled the blanket over us. After a silence during which my new companion cleared his throat and we both tried to find a comfortable position, I asked:

“Are haddocks made of gold beans for real?”

“Outside no, but inside yes,” he answered.

“Oh. But if they contain gold, you can’t eat them; so why do the kabors hunt them?”

I heard him gasp.

“Mothers of the Light! Are you seriously asking? Let’s see, kinchin: the kabors are bandits, and the haddocks of gold beans are purses of gold. And now shut up, or the owners will hear us.”

I opened my eyes wide.

“Are there people behind the door?”

“Blasthell, yeah. What do you think? That we stay out here because we like being cold? Shut your top lights and snooze.”

I listened to him and was so tired that I fell asleep in a few seconds. At dawn, we were awakened by the cry of the owner of the house.

“Out!” he roared. The big man was waving his stick angrily, and he frightened me so much that I sprung to my feet like a hare. Cursing, my companion ran off with the blanket, and I followed him as the man said:

“May the devils catch you soon, you rascals!”

I lost sight of my companion, and a few moments later, I found myself in a street and realized that I did not know where I was. I tried to look for my companion—he had taken my blanket with him—but my efforts were in vain.

“Yet another companion lost,” I sighed.

More than a year would go by before I saw that boy again.

The day was dawning, and the streets were already a little busy. I walked for a long time, and I was so hungry that at one point I stopped and said to a woman:

“I’m hungry.”

She passed without stopping, a half-compassionate, half-saddened pout on her face. Normally, when I said that to my master, he’d say, well, go dig up some roots. The problem was that there were no roots in this city. After repeating my complaint maybe a hundred times, out loud, through my teeth and in my head, I burst out:

“I’m hungry!”

I was walking past a table with food when I saw a young woman put a round object in the hand of the one behind the stall and take a dark colored bar… I frowned and walked over.

“What’s that?” I asked.

The man glanced around before answering me:

“What do you mean, what’s that? It’s barley bread, son. You want to buy? It’s two and a half nails the bun, one fivenail the loaf, and seventeen nails the bloomer,” he recited.

I did not understand him.

“Nails?” I repeated. And I pointed to the ones tacked into the table, similar to the ones in my master’s trunk. “Like those?”

The man whistled, looking dumbfounded.

“Good mother. Where do you come from, boy?”

“From the mountains,” I replied.

He shook his head, and after another look around, he gave me a bun and showed me a silver disk.

“This is a half-nail. Take it, keep the coin. When you get five like this you can buy a bun as the Spirits dictate. And now go away, and not a word of this or I’ll twist your ear off.”

I widened my eyes and moved quickly away, taking a generous bite of my bread and scrutinizing the coin with my other hand. It had a hole in the middle, and something was carved around it on both sides. Spirits, I thought, looking up. I was curious about these stories of spirits. I had also heard Hishiwa and old Dirasho mention them several times.

I wandered through the streets, silently observing all this strange world, and then I came to a fountain and leaned back to look at my reflection. I made faces, blew on the water, and the image became blurred. I smiled.

“Water mirrors are not so rigid.”

I touched the water. It was warm! Not hot, but a little warm. I put my hand in and then my arm. A few moments later, I put my other arm in and then I saw something at the bottom. I picked it up. It was a bone. Like the ones I used to give my master. I sat down on the stone ledge and nibbled on the bone, feeling the mortic energy flowing from it. Though I didn’t need it like my master, I absorbed the energy.

“Who are you, boy?” a voice suddenly asked.

I looked up and saw an old man watching me. He had large pointed ears and wore a large dark green cloak, very similar to my master’s.

I took the bone out of my mouth and said:

“I am Mor-eldal.”

The old elf smiled, revealing spoiled teeth.

“Well, what a name. You’re not from around here, are you? You have a horrible accent. How long have you been in Estergat?”

“One day,” I said.

“One day! And where are you from?” he asked me in a light tone.

“From the valley of Evon-Sil,” I answered. “From the mountains. I am here to discover the world.”

“Now that’s having goals,” he grinned. “Come, let’s go sit over there on that wider low wall. Your story interests me. It’s not every day you meet a valley boy with that wild look and a bone in his teeth, you know? Heh. But tell me, did you travel alone?”

I went over and sat down on the low wall next to the old man, saying:

“Yes, I came alone. I walked for days. But then I found some kind people, and an old man brought me to Estergat on a horse-drawn cart.”

“It was kind of him indeed. And he left you alone? That was less kind of him,” the old man commented.

“No, no, he was very kind,” I assured him, frowning.

The old man looked thoughtful.

“Um… So you don’t know anyone here? And what are you going to do in Estergat?” I pondered, looking for an answer to that. In fact, what was I going to do? There was no hunting or climbing trees. The old elf nodded with a slight smile. “You don’t seem to have thought of that yet, huh. Well, I’ll tell you what will happen to you, listen. Today, or tomorrow, or a week from now, some people will notice you and say, ‘Hey, isn’t that an abandoned kid?’ And, in no time, they will take you to their gang; the kap, seeing you so helpless, will accept you and make you a beggar. With those looks of yours, I predict success for you: even a heartless man would give you a nail. And, like that, little by little, you will learn the life of the Estergat Cat, you will make yourself a thief and deceive people, and, in scarcely a few moons, you will have become an incurable street gwak.”

I looked at him, impressed. This elf seemed to know my entire future.

“I don’t know,” I hesitated. “My master told me that thieves were evil.”

“Your master? So you have a master,” the old man muttered, his brow wrinkled. “Where is he now?”

I put on a reserved face and looked down at my bone.

“Dead.”

It was true, in a way: he was a nakrus.

“I see. So you’ve arrived in a city you don’t know, and you’re as lonely as the Limping Knight. You have no money, do you?”

I squinted, then smiled, and took out the half-nail which the man of the barley bread had given me. The old man rolled his eyes.

“This will buy you a crust of stale bread at most. That pendant you wear around your neck might buy you a loaf of bread, though. Where did you get it?”

I looked down at my pendant. It was a strap of good leather with a small metal plate and signs that even my master had never been able to understand. I shrugged.

“I’ve always had it. My master told me that maybe my family gave it to me.”

The old man looked at him and nodded thoughtfully.

“And you don’t remember your family?”

“Hardly,” I admitted. “My master says that, when he took me in, I told him I had six winters. But I don’t remember.”

“And when did this happen?”

I shrugged and turned dark. I didn’t like to think about the distant past. But I answered:

“Four years ago.”

“I see. Well, then. Now, look here, lad. I may be a poor, lame old elf, but I’m not evil, and I’m not going to let a little one like you, so innocent and good, end up in the dragon’s den. I’ll give you a hand. Listen,” he added. “There, across the square, do you see the Daglat Star on that door, with a rose under it? That’s the insignia of The Wind Rose. It’s a tavern. Cheap and not very good, but one of the best in the Cat Quarter. Are you hungry?”

“Ah, well, pretty hungry, yes,” I admitted.

The old man smiled and gave me some coins.

“Then leave that bone and go buy some cheese snacks. Have you ever been in a tavern? No? Well, you go to the counter, stand on a stool so that the tavern-keeper can see you and say loudly: Mr. Tavern-keeper, I want two cheese snacks! You give him the coins and come back here with the snacks. Do you understand?”

I nodded emphatically, put the bone in my bag, got up, and with the coins in my hand, ran to the door, and was about to push it when it suddenly opened and I heard a din of voices and glasses. I waited for the man who was going out to pass, then I went in. What I saw left me speechless. There were tables, people, and even dogs. I recognized the counter easily, climbed up on a stool, and shouted:

“Mr. Tavern-keeper, I want two cheese snacks!”

The racket in the tavern immediately subsided, and the strong man in front of me laughed, watching me with amusement.

“Tone it down, you little savage, you’re startling my customers. You’ve got quite a voice, you know. Sit down on the stool before you fall, and I’ll bring you some snacks in no time. Give me those coins.”

I left them in his big hand, sat down, with my back to the counter, and looked around curiously. Conversations had resumed, and the noise was dulling my ears. Before I had time to get bored, the tavern-keeper appeared on the other side of the counter and announced:

“Two cheese snacks, boy!”

“Thank you,” I said. I took them, looked at them curiously, took a bite and huffed, chewing. “It’s good! Thank you, Mr. Tavern-keeper!”

And under his amused gaze, I ran out. I crossed the square and found the old elf where I had left him. He smiled at me.

“I see you’ve already started without me.”

I gave him his snack and sat down, eating my fill.

“It’s good, huh? Well, I should say it was,” the old man laughed. In fact, I had just stuffed the last piece into my mouth. He continued, “You know what? If you listen to me carefully, I might be able to find someone who can buy you a good meal every day.”

I stared at him and swallowed the last bite.

“Really?” I said. “Where is that person?”

The old elf watched me carefully before replying:

“Do you know what a brotherhood is?”

I nodded.

“A lot of brothers. I had a few once. I think.”

The old man smiled.

“Yes. Brotherhoods are families where people learn and cooperate. Well, I happen to belong to one. And I thought it wouldn’t hurt to expand the family. Have you heard of the Black Daggers? No, of course not, as expected. Well. We Black Daggers are a special brotherhood. We don’t have petty thieves or cheap hustlers among us, let alone bad people. We Black Daggers have a code. And we even know how to do a little magic.”

I almost said to him, ah, I can do a little magic too, and more than a little. But I stopped just in time, because I shouldn’t talk about it. I bit my tongue and kept my eyes on the old man. He continued:

“I thought about it and decided that you could be a good Black Dagger. You would have food, a home to sleep in, and even a master who would teach you many things.” He watched me from the corner of his eye. “What do you think? Do you like the idea?”

I smiled.

“Oh yes, I like it very much. What should I do?”

“Come back here tonight at dusk and sit on this very fountain. One of our members will come and get you. And, of course, don’t say anything about this to anyone, eh? We Black Daggers are a secret brotherhood,” he said with a wink.

And as I nodded, he smiled and reached out a wrinkled hand to ruffle my hair as my master did. I immediately felt a surge of trust for this elf.

“See you soon, kid. Don’t forget: come here at dusk. The kid’s name is Yalet.”

He got up, and I saw him limp away. It was only when he disappeared that I thought I had forgotten to ask him what his name was.