The Merchant and the Menace (44 page)

“The fishermen find better luck in the evening, and
the catch is fresher for the morning market,” commented Manfir from off to Kael’s
right.

Kael turned to see the Zodrian prince smiling and
looking down to the waters below.

“What is it they fish for?” asked Kael.

“Oh, mostly river cat and some pike,” smiled the
prince. “But the good ones luck into an occasional urgron. They are the prize.”

The comment caught Eidyn’s attention and he peered
over into the water below.

“Urgron? What are they?” asked Kael.

“A rare delicacy,” answered Eidyn. “The lords and
ladies of the Rindoran court pay a pretty price for an urgron. Especially one
that is in season.”

“In season?” questioned Flair.

“The fish is a delicacy in its own right,” replied
Manfir with a twinkle in his eye. “But the true delicacy are the eggs a female
lays. They are prized by the nobles.”

The Zodrian warrior eyed the swirling currents and
eddies of the water below them.

“What do they do with the eggs?” asked Flair.

“Why, eat them of course!” exclaimed Teeg.

“Ugh!” replied Flair contorting his face in
disgust.

The group chuckled.

“What do they taste like?” Kael asked Manfir.

“Oh, I’ve never tasted them,” answered the big man.

“I just thought you, um, you were staring at the
river and  I thought ..” started Kael.

“Fish eggs, Kael?” laughed Manfir. “I agree with my
good man Flair. Ugh! A nice game hen, or mutton leg are my fare. But fish eggs?”

The entire group chuckled once more as Manfir
continued.

“No, the true treasure of the Urgron is not in
eating it. The true treasure lies in catching it,” said Manfir dreamily. “You
truly don’t know happiness until you stand silently on the banks of the river
in the summer moonlight, casting a line for the Urgron.”

“Why is that?” asked Flair.

Manfir smiled at the boy.

“Solitude.”

“Pardon?” replied Flair.

“Solitude. Sweet solitude. Just you and the Urgron.
If your lucky, maybe just you for awhile.”

“I don’t understand,” said Kael. “You want to catch
it, don’t you?”

“Eventually, I suppose,” smiled Manfir. “But the
true pleasure of fishing is the silence. The chance to let the worries of the
world wash away down the river and leave you for awhile. Escape. Let the water
calm you, and your thoughts escape to your dreams.”

Kael saw the head of an otter poke above the
midnight surface of the river. The animal chirped a call and splashed back
under the flow. As Kael stared at the water he understood what Manfir meant.
The constant roll of the river soothed him. He desired nothing more than to
stand on the edge of the bridge and rest, watching the river slide away
underneath him.

“State your business for the record book.”

A hunched old man stood fingering through the pages
of a leather-bound, raggedy old book. The book lay on an easel set just to the
right of the massive gates of Rindor. A torch guttered in a wrought iron holder
set into the granite of the city walls. The light from the torch played across
the book and illuminated the ink stained hands of the old man as he frantically
tried to turn it to the proper page. His wrinkled face was framed by wiry white
whiskers both above and below. He screwed his face into a sour expression and
spit a mass of chewing juice on the decking at his feet.

“Darn pages keep sticking together,” mumbled the
old man glaring at the book.

“Is there really a need for that Gency, old boy?”
asked Teeg.

The old man squinted in the failing light at the
riders in front of him. He grabbed the torch from the wall and walked amongst
the riders. As Gency approached Teeg, the Elf smiled pleasantly to him. The
bridge tender’s eyes widened and he quickly glanced at the rest of the group
then to the gates. When he was satisfied no other Rindorans were present he
turned back to Teeg.

“Why, uh Master Elf, how is it you know my name?”
stammered the old man pathetically, as he eyed Kael and Flair.

“Gency, please,” pleaded Ader. ‘We are tired and
hungry. I will come to the gates tomorrow and we shall talk. The lads in this
group are fine. Everyone knows everyone else. Just open the gate and let me get
to a bed.”

The old bridge tender fidgeted and frowned in
exasperation.

“Well how am I to know who is one of us and who is
not?” grumbled Gency to himself as he turned and shuffled to the gate.

The torch spilled its light onto a small hole cut
in the gates facade. The hole sat three yards above the decking of the bridge
and a light chain ran through it. On the end of the chain was affixed an iron
ring. Gency tugged hard on the ring. A bell sounded hollowly as Gency muttered
to himself some more. The group waited. Nothing. Gency frowned deeply then
tugged on the chain once more. The bell rang again.

“Weneth ya old fool! Open the forsaken door!”
shouted Gency.

Ader turned to Teeg and a smile played between
them. Gency stood nearest to Kael and turned with an exasperated expression.

“The old fool has got the easy part of the job.
Just open the gate when I ring. That’s all! I’m the one that sits out here in
the rain and snow, freezing to the bone some nights. Its enough ta ....”

A loud “clank” sounded within the gate and it
slowly creaked inward.

“Now if ya want me to take the outside agin, all ya
has ta do is ask. I never asked ta come inside,” said Weneth as the gate swung
wide open. “I’m not used to the darkness inside the walls. It lulls me ta
sleep. I was used ta the moonlight and the rushing of the river. Now its just
silence and darkness. Good evenin’ Master Ader.”

Ader nodded at an old man almost identical to
Gency, who slowly pushed the gate to the wall.

“Evening Weneth. How are the bones?” said Ader as
he edged Tarader into the city.

“Not so bad,” replied the old man as he continued.
“Never wanted to come inside. Never asked to come inside. I like the wind on my
face and watchin’ my river roll by. The bones weren’t so bad.”

The old gatekeeper stopped for a moment as the
troop passed. He glanced at Manfir and lightly bowed.

“How goes the fishin’ my boy?” asked Weneth.

“Eh?” said Gency squinting at Manfir. “Oh! How are
you my boy? Didn’t recognize ya.”

“My bones may have gone brittle in the rain and
snow,” laughed Weneth turning on Gency, “but you’ve lost your eyes years ago,
reading all night in the darkness with naught but a wee candle.”

Gency frowned at his brother.

“I haven’t cast a line in the water for years, my
friend,” smiled Manfir to Weneth. “One day soon I hope to. When that day comes,
you must teach your brother about our arrangement. Even with his failing
eyesight I’m sure we could become profitable again.”

“I’m sure I’m fully aware of yur arrangement. Don’t
ya remember who let ya out every evening?” said Gency in mock disappointment.

“Then a fifty-fifty split is still acceptable?”
smiled Manfir as the group moved into the city leaving the brothers at the
gate.

“Fifty-fifty?” shouted Gency at his brother as Ader
and the group moved down the street to the cities interior. “You told me it was
sixty-forty all those years ago. You old cheat!”

“I told you it was sixty-forty and did not lie,”
Kael heard Weneth laugh. “I just didn’t tell you who got the sixty and who got
the forty!”

The group rounded a bend in the city street and the
old men disappeared from view, their argument faintly heard in the night air.

The street before the group looked like a canyon.
Buildings rose straight up on either side. Dozens and dozens of feet above
their heads, rooftop met rooftop and tower joined to tower to form the canopy
of this massive block of stonework. Here and there where the moon’s glow
reached through the maze of rooftops, it splashed its light on the mist-dampened
cobblestones of the river city. The horses’ hooves echoed down this canyon of
granite and the group headed through the city.

“What was that all about?” Kael asked Manfir.

“When I was a lad,” smiled Manfir. “I used to love
to go down to the river and watch the fishermen. Often, I wandered up and down
the river for hours. Sometimes I threw a line in the water and sometimes just
explored. My mother grew worried by my long absences. When she discovered what
I was doing, she forbade it. I was but a lad and the prince heir to the throne
of Zodra. She feared for me. Exposing myself to the rough and tumble world down
by the wharves was not the way a young prince should occupy his time.

“So, as any inquisitive boy might, I grew more
determined by her refusals. At night, I slipped from my quarters and came to
the gate. Weneth and Gency were younger then. They both held a soft spot for a
boy looking to do mischief. I stole through the gate and fished the night river.”

“What deal were you referring to?” asked Flair.

“I never truly discovered the habits of the Urgron,”
said Manfir. “At first I played at fishing. However, after reeling in a few
nice specimens of pike, I quickly developed a passion for it. I was bound and
determined to catch an Urgron but they eluded me. They are intelligent,
solitary creatures. Hard to pin down. They move throughout the river where they
please. They are the royalty of the currents. No predators but man.

 “Often you think you hook one, only to find it
steal your bait. Extremely frustrating. After months with no luck, I grew
bitter. As I trod across the bridge after one particularly frustrating evening,
I noticed Weneth staring at me with a silly grin.”

‘What is so humorous?’ said I.

‘You, young prince,’ said Weneth.

‘How so?’ said I, furrowing my brow.

‘I have never seen a lad take such displeasure in
his mischief,’ laughed Weneth. ‘I wonder how the kingdom will fare under such a
serious, driven ruler? Catching the fish is but a small portion of the pleasure
of fishing. Standing amongst the beauty and majesty of Avra’s creation is the
true joy. Watching the waves roll by and feeling the wind on your face. Hearing
the call of the nighthawk and the hoot of the great owl. Watching the moon
drift from horizon to horizon. These are the pleasures of fishing.’

I lowered my head and considered his words. He was
right, but I was as determined as ever. Weneth laughed and added.

‘But it would be nice to catch a fish now and
again.’

We both smiled as the night watchman patted me on
the back.

‘I might help you in that department, my young
prince,’ said Weneth. ‘Answer a question. What is my job?’

‘You’re the night watchman of the citadel’s bridge,’
said I in confusion. ‘The bridge tender.’

‘Turn and look about you, my friend,’ instructed
Weneth ‘What do you see?’

I turned and surveyed the world from Weneth’s
vantage.

‘I see the bridge stretching back to the shore. I
see a small outpost. I see the moon and clouds. I see the river churning under
the bridge,’ said I.

‘Go on,’ said Weneth.

‘I see the moonlight on the water. I see a small
fishing boat moving under the pilings of the bridge. And another by the
shoreline...

Weneth cut me off as he rang the bell to open the
gate.

‘I stand at this post from dusk till dawn,’ said
he. ‘I see where they catch ‘em, and where they don’t. I see where the tricky
ones get away and leave a good man grumblin’. I see where the pike are
schoolin’ and the river cat jumpin’. Each night when Gency let’s you out, just
hover here a few moments and I’ll let you know where to dip your line in the
water.’

The city gate swung open and Gency poked his head
out. Weneth smiled and patted me on the back.

‘Now off to bed with you,’ he said.

The next night he informed me of a school of pike
hanging under one of the bridge’s pilings. Sure if I didn’t reel in a dozen
within the hour. The next night the rivercat were feasting on fresh water
mussels at the bottom of an eddy near the far shoreline. I battled several into
the boat. As I passed Weneth with my stringer full, he smiled with pride.

Several weeks later he sent me after an Urgron that
ran the shallows along the citadel’s walls. A few skiffs attempted to land the
fish to no avail. I pushed my skiff into the strong current and rowed to the
spot. Weneth signaled by candlelight when I reached the area. For two nights I
tried to land that fish, but found no luck.

Then on the third evening, my line plunged into the
water. The moon waned and scant light reached the river through the cloud cover.
I found it difficult enough to see my hand in front of my face let alone the
strong creature I battled under the oily black of the running river. I fought
the beast for three quarters of an hour. My arms ached from tugging and
spooling the line around a gunwale on the small boat. Finally, the Urgron
thrashed to the surface, scaring me half to death. Its big body slapped and whipped
the river’s surface into froth. Far in the distance I heard the whoop and
holler of the watchman as he surveyed the scene with delight. As I strained to
lift the beast from the blackness beneath me, I heard Weneth call out.