Abhorrent Practices - Book 1

Chapter 2.5 - Tremayne (Scene 5: Market Forces)

Perrick pushed the pile of assorted trinkets and curiosities on the left of his stall farther back from the edge. It had been a good day, he reflected, as he bent down to lift the hinged wooden apron from in front of the stall. He folded the lid up over the pile of trinkets, boxing them in. As well as the Sherrovian vase and drawings, he'd sold a dozen pieces of Ferraline costume jewellery, more than twenty small busts of the Grand Marshall, and the demand for Braelish glassware had taken him completely by surprise. It seemed that, despite the official end of hostilities between the two islands, the good merchants of Tremayne were reluctant to travel to Brael themselves, leaving the state's citizens entirely reliant on foreign traders like himself for much sought after Braelish craftsmanship.

"You're off to Canto, then?" Aker Dunbridge, the stall holder to Perrick's right was boxing up his fruit and vegetables.

Perrick slid the bolt on the top of his stall into place and turned to look at the trader next to him. He was covering his produce with strips of cloth, soaked in some form of sweet-smelling preservative.

"Have to," he said flatly. "You?"

"No, I can't leave," the produce trader replied, shaking his head. "It'll get pretty nasty if the Guards don't arrest someone for Harlan's killing pretty soon. But life's always been tough here if you come from Brael. You get used to it."

"Why?" asked Perrick. "I mean, why put up with it? Why not just go back to Brael?"

Aker grinned, but his smile was resigned rather than cheerful.

"Because life would be even harder there. My wife's from Tremayne, see. You think they give Braelishmen a hard time here in Tremayne? Trust me, they're a lot harder on Treminns over in Brael!"

Perrick nodded. It made sense. Officially, there had been no victor in the conflict between Brael and Tremayne. There had been a negotiated peace which both sides had fervently sought. With the cessation of hostilities, however, Tremayne had quickly re-established itself as a cultural centre and its port had become a major hub on any number of major trade routes. People here had been able to rebuild their lives and move on.

In marked contrast, post-war Brael had struggled. Before the conflict the island's economy had been built on the export of raw materials. Its tin and timber were especially sought after and its artisans were renowned throughout the region for their delicate glassware and ornate pottery. Now, with their fleet all but destroyed, the Braelish traders had to pay others to transport their goods, and there was no shortage of foreign merchant ships eager to exploit their dependence.

For the people of Brael, the conflict had not yet been consigned to the history books. For them, it remained an open wound. With much of their capital city, Canto, still in ruins and shortages of many foodstuffs still commonplace, every day brought fresh reminders of just how much they'd lost.

"Hey, you!" The cry came from the far side of the square. "Stop!"

Perrick craned his neck and peered over the top of his stall. Aker, being almost a foot shorter, stood on his toes in an unsuccessful attempt to peer over his.

"What is it?" he asked. "Can you see what's happening?"

Perrick shook his head. Among the stalls on the west side of the plaza were two City Guards, one of them flat on the ground, the other gesticulating toward the apothecary's shop.

"No," he answered. "There's a couple of guards getting very excited about something, but I can't see what."

"Thief probably," suggested Aker. "Most of 'em try to slip in and out of the crowds when we're busy, but there's always one or two who sneak out when we're packing up. They know our defences are down then." His curiosity satisfied, he returned to laying the strips of cloth over his fruit and vegetables and placing them into wooden crates. "They grab as much as they can off one of the stalls, and dodge back into the Shanties before the Guards realise what's happened."