It was dark inside, a smoky, flickering lamp at either end making the pottery on shelves and plants on hangers jump and twitch. As I stood there, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, the flickering subsided.
The fellow in the shop was nothing like my grandfather. He had one of those faces that looked like someone had grabbed hold of the chin and pulled, with a high domed forehead and a receding hairline to increase the effect. He wore a sweat-stained singlet that had once been blue and loose pantaloons of brown. I couldn't guess his age within thirty years. He looked me up and down with pale brown eyes and an expression that reminded me of the guy I'd just been speaking with. It was obvious he didn't like me. Maybe it was the jhereg on my shoulders. Then again, maybe it was just me. I refrained from breaking his left kneecap and right instep. I didn't even think about it.
He dipped his head in a bow so perfunctory he could have taught Morrolan a few things about being rudely polite, and waited for me to say something. I finally settled on, "Have you any shaba-salt?"
"No," he said.
I paused, then decided on the direct approach. "What's the problem?"
"No problem," he said, tight-lipped. "I don't have any, that's all."
"Not that. Your attitude. What have I done to you? You don't like how I'm dressed or something?"
"You're a witch," he said.
Now, that I got to explain. "Witch" is the only way to translate it, but what he actually used was a Fenarian word, erdergbassor, that means, sort of, "witch who does nasty things to people," or maybe, "witch who studies things nice people don't talk about." Something like that. It was a word I knew, but not one I'd ever expected to hear directed at my sweet, lovable self.
I spoke to my familiar, who had picked up the translation from my mind. "Loiosh? Any ideas?"
"Color me stunned, Boss. Not a clue."
I drew a little circle on the counter with my finger, while looking at the merchant—I call him a merchant because I had trouble thinking of him as a witch. "I've never been called that before," I told him.
"Don't threaten me, young man. I'm a mem—"
"Member of the Guild," I said it with him. "Yeah. So, what is it that makes me a witch?" I asked him, using that same word.
He just glared at me. I wondered how long I could go without needing to hurt someone. It was odd: while surrounded by Dragaerans, I was never tempted to start messing with humans; but here, with no Dragaerans around, the idea didn't bother me a bit. In fact, it was getting more tempting by the minute. The last time I had been in this land, years before, I hadn't met all that many people, but those I'd met had been pleasant. I guess between that and the stories of my grandfather, I'd built it up in my head as some sort of paradise. Yeah, well.
"I'm serious," I said. "What makes you think—"
"Young man," he said, "either you are a fool, or you think I am. I know a familiar when I see one."
Oh. Well. So it was Loiosh after all. Who knew? But there were implications in there that hurt my head to think about. So I said, "All right. Do you know a family named
Merss?"
"The door is that way, young man."
And, once again, it was either walk out the door or use violence. I was sure I'd come up with some good remark to use on him tomorrow; meanwhile I pushed my way past the curtain and back into the street.
The next place was a shoemaker's, and the smell of leather and oils overpowered even the stench of the town. I'll spare you the details; the results were no better. These people just flat out didn't like me. I felt myself starting to get angry, and sat on the feeling; right now that wouldn't do any good. I needed to figure out what was going on.
"Three in a row, Boss. Convinced?"
"Yeah, only I'm not sure what I'm convinced of exactly."
He wasn't able to enlighten me, so I took us back to the inn, glancing at other shops as we walked, but not going in any. The shutters were open this time, and I concluded it must have to do with wind direction, Orbahn wasn't there when I arrived—in fact, I nearly had the place to myself—so I found a corner and a glass of strong red wine (actually, it looked more purple to me) and settled in to wait for him. The wine was decent.
After an hour or so I got a plate of lamb stew with leeks and garlic and a dollop of sour cream, and some thick-crusted bread. An hour after that Orbahn showed up. He didn't waste any time; he looked around, saw me, and came right over.
"And how has your day been?" he asked me, signaling to the barmaid.
"Interesting," I said. He ordered a drink, and I reminded him that I was buying lunch, so he got a bowl of the same stew I was having. "I'm not sure where to begin. Any idea why I might have been called an erdergbassor?"
His eyebrows climbed a little. "Hmmm. Who called you that?"
"The fellow that owns the witchcraft supply shop."
"Oh. Him." He shrugged. "I'll talk to him."
"No, no. Don't bother. I'm just curious. He seemed to think, either because my familiar is a jhereg, or because I have a familiar, that—"
"It's because your familiars are jhereg," he said. "A lot of people here think that means you follow the dark way, that those who follow the light have birds or cats, occasionally ferrets. Not reptiles."
"Oh. Odd."
"It is odd. It's a strictly local belief."
"This is a peculiar town."
He shrugged. "Just be careful here."
"Eh? What do you mean?"
"I mean, don't ask too many questions."
"Why? I came here to find some things out."
"I know. But, well, just be careful, all right? There are people here—"
"The Guild?"
He stopped in mid-sentence. "Ah," he said. "You've found out about that?"
"I've found out it exists, and that it isn't like any other guild I've ever heard of."
He rubbed his chin. "I was born here, you know."
"All right."
"And I need to do business here."
"I understand."
"If you get on the wrong side of the Guild, don't expect me to help you. Or even say hello when we pass on the street."
"All right. That's clear enough. But, until then, what can you tell me about it?"
He hesitated, then shrugged. "It's old, it's powerful."
"And all-inclusive? That is, no merchant is going to survive without being in the Guild?"
He nodded.
I said, "And this is strictly local?"
"Other towns have Guilds; most of them do. But this one is, ah, unique."
"How did it come about?"
"I don't know; it's been around as long as anyone can remember."
"Who is in charge?"
"There's a leader of the Guild. His name is Chayoor."
"Of course it is. Where does he live?"
"Why?"
"If I'm going to avoid trouble with the Guild, that would seem like the place to start."
He shook his head. "It's up to you, but I wouldn't. I think you ought to stay as far from it as you can."
I sipped my wine, wondering just how far I could trust this guy. Loiosh sort of shifted on my shoulder; he was wondering too. I decided not very far, for now. I don't trust people easily. I guess that surprises you.
"All right," I said. "I'll keep that in mind. I really just want to find my family, if there are any still here. Then I plan to move on. There isn't a lot for me in this town."