The rest were in two piles, one hidden behind a board they pried from the wall, and the second above the widow, where a small opening they made and covered with the curtain. They went down the stairs and outside where people milled or strolled, a social engagement for many, and more than one young girl swayed down the road attracting the attention of boys their age, and of Shell.
“See anything you like?” Camilla snarled when she noticed where his eyes tracked.
“Well, now that you ask, I do.” He didn’t move fast enough for her elbow to miss jabbing his middle. He had decided before she got snarky again, he’d move out of range.
She said, “There is a road ahead that takes us to the waterfront. Let’s go down there.”
Shell pointed to a sign over the door of an inn. “Eat first.”
They headed for the inn, went inside to find a large area filled with benches, tables, and chairs, all haphazardly placed in groupings by the last patrons. The ceiling was low, the timbers black, but the walls freshly whitewashed and the floor clean. A dozen people sat, some eating, others with only mugs in front of them. All eyes turned to the newcomers.
The attention made Shell nervous as if he’d done something wrong and all in the room knew it. He hesitated and Camilla gave him a gentle shove. She said, “That table looks good.”
There were others free that were closer to the door, but she chose one situated between an occupied table and a bench where two men sat at a long wooden table. The conversation began to buzz in the room again as a woman wearing an apron from chin to floor appeared at their side.
She smiled, “Never been here, have you?” When they shook their heads, she continued, “Best food for the copper in Fleming, as least that’s what my boss says to tell everyone.”
Camilla said, “We’d like to eat.”
“Right. You can have stew and bread. Or you can have slices of roast beef down the street at the Anchor Inn, but not here. Here you get stew and bread. Chicken at the Lucky Duck tonight, but they overcharge for everything. Stew?”
“Stew,” Camilla confirmed. “And lots of bread.”
“Ale?”
“Wine and water,” Camilla said. “Red wine.”
The woman slipped away to the kitchen, pausing long enough to speak to a young man eating alone. He responded and smiled, and she disappeared. But his eyes kept returning to look at them. Looking at Camilla was understandable because she was so pretty, but Shell caught him looking his way more than once.
The waitress returned with two bowls, a plate piled high with coarse brown bread, and three mugs, two of them half-filled with wine and the third full of water. She positioned herself between the curious man and them, and as she bantered and placed the food in front of them, she whispered, “Beware of the man behind me. He already asked about you.”
Then she stood and laughed as if one of them had said something funny, and flitted off again. Camilla said, “That was nice of her.”
“I got the impression she knows more about him than she could say.”
Camilla said, “After we eat, I think we should go down by the ships. That’s why we’re here. I also think we should stop talking and listen.”
“And I think that when we pay for our meal, we should leave an extra coin for the woman who warned us. I had already noticed that man, but it makes no difference.”
They ate in silence, while trying to pick out the different conversations, all of which seemed to be concerned with buying, selling, or shipping goods on the ships. Several bragged about their profits; a few moaned about their losses, and others talked about what they hoped for the future. All but the one customer who sat and watched them with veiled eyes.
After leaving, they headed out to the street and looked for the lane that would take them to the one below. After reaching it, the foot traffic was less, the people more hurried, and most of them working one way or another, some carrying tools or supplies. A few pushed barrows, rolled barrels, or pulled carts.
Camilla and Shell moved to the side and tried to keep out of the way. They noticed terraces or patios that contained benches and tables. People sat in the shade of small trees or umbrellas and watched the activity on the piers while sipping ale, beer, or wine. Some ate snacks or meals.
As they took a seat at the nearest, Camilla watched and commented on the unloading of a ship, speculating about where the cargo came from and what it might be. While she watched and talked, the tiny hairs on the back of Shell’s neck stood on end. He casually adjusted his chair, allowing his eyes to roam the other patrons and people on the street.
A man drew his attention. Without seeming to, Shell looked and recognized the man from the inn. He thought of Pudding and knew the wolf was too far away, but within contact. His next thought was of the Red dragon, but he quickly tried to erase that thought before the Red came diving out of the sky, spitting acid and screeching while trying to rescue him in front of the entire waterfront.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Camilla said, “Are you even listening to me?”
“No, I’m watching that man from the inn. No, don’t turn around. He’s trying to hide behind the corner of a building, but it’s him.”
“Why would he follow us?”
Shell said, “To rob us?” He shrugged, “Or he suspects who we are? Or he wants something from us. Since we don’t need anything from him, I can’t see how he can help us.”
A boy with an apron that had been white at one time appeared at their table. “Two red wines and water, please,” Camilla said. Then when the boy departed she said, “You and I can sip wine, sit in the shade, and see how long our follower stays there. After our wine is finished, I think we should move down the street to another outdoor café and see if he follows.”
“If he does?”
“We may have to talk with him. I’m sure one of these strong, brave men unloading ships will have a husky friend, and between them, they can encourage that man to talk to us on our own terms. It may cost a copper or two, but I think it may be money well spent.” Her tone was conversational, without emotion or stress.
The ease of her statement pulled Shell back to reality. He peered at the expression on her face to find if she was joking and decided she was not. The ruthlessness of her idea surprised him, but then another question came to mind. How was it that she was so willing to do what was necessary to succeed in a conflict and he was not? Hadn’t he come all this way to fight a war? But she was much more adept at it.
The wine arrived, and they watched the activity on the piers, pointing out interesting aspects neither had ever seen. Shell continued to keep an eye on the man watching them while pretending to look at Camilla. The man didn’t move, speak to anyone, or conceal his presence.
Shell had never seen the ocean and knew Camilla had on a previous trip. The ships were large enough to carry cargo and a number of crewmen, but when he looked at the vastness of the water in front of him and tried to imagine that same scene in all directions, his mental capabilities failed. He simply couldn’t imagine such a thing.
A tall, arrogant, man wearing an expensive hat and shirt paused, introduced himself and offered to guide them about profitable purchases if they were investors and could afford his considerable influence, payment in advance. Both laughed and Camilla made short work of the explanation that said they were merely waiting for their uncle. The man quickly moved on when he understood they had almost no money.