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The din of the streets was lively at this time in the day; everyone was getting ready for the hours of commerce. Merchants busied themselves by putting out new wares and re-polishing every tabletop for the umpteenth time. Some of them with the more exotic or otherwise more costly merchandise haggled with guards-for-hire, but the mercenaries knew that they could charge virtually any price from the paranoid merchants and would hardly budge from their set prices. Raul grinned; there was an occupation he had thought of getting into.
”How're the kids coming along, Antonio?” Raul called to a man in an apron, who was busy sweeping the floors of one of the multiple taverns - or at least he was trying to. A three-year old girl had latched herself onto his arm, while two boys ran around his legs, trying to smack each other with sticks.
Antonio glanced up and waved laughingly, leaning on his broom. ”Well, if it isn't Raul! They're just like I was at their age: wild, care-free, and non too familiar with manners. Come on in and have a cup, it'll do you wonders on a day this hot.”
”Maybe another time, I'm actually running late on an errand for my dear mother,” Raul lied smoothly. His stomach didn't really agree with ale in the morning.
”Just be sure to drop by some time, I haven't had a single demanding chess(*) match since you began spending all your free-time with that English broad,” Antonio said with a meaningful look and a tap on the side of his nose. His dramatic gesture was interrupted by a little boy who took the opportunity to launch himself onto his father's back; Antonio grimaced in surprise.
Raul laughed and promised to come by and beat him around the chess table when he got the chance. He continued on down the street, whistling a light tune, the climbing sun warming his back.
Traveling merchants rarely had a shop to themselves, so they set up stalls on the sides of the streets. Their voices rose above the general commotion, hawking out their wares to anyone in the vicinity. Raul idly wandered from stall to stall, glancing over the peculiarities the street vendors had brought back from around the world.
There were exotic fruits from places as far away as Spain and France. There were wondrous swords with many shiny gems, said to have been looted from castles of kings; these stalls always sported a ring of huge-eyed young boys, keenly listening to amazing stories of raids conducted with the sword in hand. There were more simple wares as well; carts were stacked high with colored cloths, meatpies and fishpies and chickenpies were all readily available to a hungry soul, gardening tools were piled next to stout hammers meant for smithing, needles of various sizes were displayed next to meters of yarn, and jewelery glinted in the bright light, catching the eye attractively.
One stallkeeper boasted to have brought his fresh fish all the way from England, keeping them from rotting with a mixture of salt and coal. Raul highly doubted that and personally thought the man had just burnt his fish and was trying to sell them off to some idiot. Against all odds, he actually seemed to be running a rather good business. Raul shook his head in contempt as an elderly woman bought four of the fish, which the stallkeeper assured her would increase her healthy days.
”What about you, young sir? Care for some fish oil to help with your lady-problems?” the stallkeeper asked him with a wink.
It took Raul a while to realize the merchant was speaking to him. He looked up at the man with a blank face.
His voice was dry when he said, ”And what makes you think I've problems with ladies?”
The stallkeeper drywashed his hands nervously. ”N-nothing, sir. I didn't mean to presume anything, just trying to help. How about something else to better suit your needs, mayhaps a fishbone necklace for luck?”
Raul ignored the offer. ”Since when has fish oil, of all things, helped with women anyhow? It seems it would do nothing but drive them away, judging by the stink.”
Raul was gathering quite a crowd already; people were trying to get closer to see past the ones in the front rows. There weren't many things more despised than a false salesman and one could clearly read it from the faces of the bystanders.
”Well?” Raul prompted, as the stallkeeper's eyes darted from face to face, desperately seeking support but finding none in the impassive faces.
”Fish oil carries many healthy substances that improve muscle growth and general physique. And I'll stand by that firmly,” someone said his Italian flecked with a slight French accent.
Everyone turned their heads to regard the new arrival who had spoken up. Raul looked too, eyeing the newcomer's dusty traveling clothes. The burly man's lower face was covered by a scarf, presumably to fend off dust.
”Do you carry expertise in this matter, traveller? For I've spent quite a time working with fish, and have never heard of these... traits you named,” Raul challenged, turning to face him squarely.
To Raul's astonishment, the newcomer threw back his head and laughed heartily.
”Raul, my boy, you never change, do you? Always ready to stand by your argument 'till the end, be it bitter or sweet. In this matter, though, I do believe I outweigh you in expertise. It isn't by chance that people call me Poissonnier,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes, still chuckling.
”Rémi? Is it really you?” Raul asked disbelievingly.
”Who else, you imbécil?” Rémi Poissonnier said, lowering the scarf.
Raul just stared at him. ”But... But, you weren't supposed to come back for at least a month. How come have you
returned so early?” He frowned. ”Did something go wrong? What happened?”
Rémi winked at him. ”Nothing went wrong, I just got lucky and found what I was looking for a bit faster than I had thought. That's all. I'll fill you in on the juicy details after we steer clear of this place, as it is a bit too crowded, don't you think? But before we do that, we still have this problem to sort out,” he said, pointing at the stallkeeper who had been trying to slink away. ”Even though I concede that fish oil can indeed technically attract females, I cannot and will not believe that any part of a fish can lengthen your given days.” Rémi's voice was sharp with accusation.
The merchant trembled under the muscular fish merchant's gaze. He wasn't stupid; he knew when he had gone too far to get away.
”I didn't mean nothing by it. It's just that I've come along hard times and I've got respons-”
”Quit your whimpering,” Rémi cut in, ”You'll go seek out that lady you sold the fish to immediately, and any others you may have scammed, and you'll return their money. All of it. If they charge you more for trauma or some other pretence, it is up to your own conscience and good judgement to see to it accordingly.” He turned to the crowd around him. ”If someone objects to these terms, do step up now. You won't be judged and your opinion will be taken into consideration.”
No-one moved or spoke; the fish merchant wielded authority with apparent ease, and the common folk were more than willing to leave the choice to him. Rémi nodded and turned back to the stallkeeper.
”Do you accept these terms? Or would you rather live out some of your days in a stone box?”
The stallkeeper hung his head in defeat. ”I accept.”
Rémi nodded once more. ”Good. Now we'll need a few volunteers to make sure he does indeed fulfill his terms. Does anyone have some time to spare?”
Three hands rose from the crowd, and at Rémi's bequest, hastened away with the unfortunate merchant. The crowd soon dispersed and Rémi and Raul were left standing as alone as they could be in a milling street.
Rémi slung an affectionate hand over Raul's shoulders and they started walking together.
”And in less time than it takes to tell about it. I've still got it,” Rémi said, grinning widely. ”Did you see the poor man's expression? He was about three seconds from soiling himself.”
”I'd soil myself too if a giant Frenchman with your eyes would stare me down,” Raul laughed, ”I don't blame him at all. Besides, he knew he was in a corner. That's quite a spirit-dampener don't you think?”
”It's no excuse to cower though. A man faces down his opposition with dignity, even when giving up.”
”It's not too big of a surprise he doesn't have much dignity. He was a fish merchant after all,” Raul said with an evil smile.
”Hah, you take that back this instant, young man! Or I'll be forced to invite you to a non-too-friendly duel.”
”Bring it, old timer.”
”As I recall, you haven't beaten this old timer even once. Kind of pitiful in my opinion,” Rémi said, poking Raul in the chest.
Raul's retort was lost as a wildly bleating goat charged through the street, forcing them to jump for cover together with everyone else on the street. Raul banged his knee on the hard earth and bit back a curse. A grim-faced young man ran past a few seconds later, a jumble of rope in hand. As Raul peaked over the edge of the cart he had rolled behind, the man asked him, ”Did you see where it went?”
Before Raul could answer, the young man looked over his shoulder and sighted the trail of turned-over carts and smashed goods.
”Never mind,” he called back darkly and ran off, mumbling apologies as he went.
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