The Count of Castle Rock

Chapter XXXII- Bazaar

"You have questions about The Dark One, yet Gasheem can only relay what he had heard from other's mouths and not his own eyes."

"We were promised you were the source of the information we were in search of," Captain Carlos grumbles, visibly growing flustered.

"Calm down, my friend. Gasheem is the source for the ones who told Gasheem can no longer speak."

"Were they silenced for this information?" Hans asks, his eyes darting around.

"No, no," Gasheem assures him. "They were killed because they angered the new Prince."

Hans grows pale, but mops his brow and forges ahead. "Please, Kind Gasheem, continue."

"People tell Gasheem things," the catkin leans forward and lowers his voice. "People say that the former prince of Du'Shadrak was tortured by The Dark One. People say the former prince of Du'Shadrak was murdered by The Dark One."

"Are you certain?" Captain Carlos pounds his fist on the stall counter.

"That is the story being spread to every ear that will listen..." Gasheem grins and sweeps his gaze across them, like a skilled troubadour measuring his hold of the audience. "Yet Gasheem hears differently from people who no longer can share their secrets. They say, Manuel Du Shau was alive when The Black One left Du'Shadrak. They say, Du Shau was murdered by the new prince, Aaron of Battlecliffs."

"So Count Methuen is no longer here in Du'Shadrak?" He is jostled by a passerby, but ignores the rude man. "Where did he go?"

The yellow clad merchant chuckles and scratches his scalp. "Gasheem's memory grows fuzzy, today is very hot and the sun bakes both mind and sand." Hans drops two coins into the man's extended hand. "Gasheem has seen nothing, but has heard much talking. There was a struggle between Quin soldiers and visitors from the north."

"Feliruu pirates?" Carlos waves his hand dismissively. "Surely, they were no challenge for The Count and his ghost blades."

A deep growl from his chest accentuates Gasheem's expression of distaste. "Though no pirate, Gasheem takes offense to the casual way you dismiss the free dancers."

"Kind Gasheem, The Captain meant no disrespect by his-" Hans's words are cut off by a woman's scream from the ever-present crowd.

Swords leave their scabbards and the crowd gives as much space as possible. In the small gap slouches a man in brown robes, dazed with his mouth hanging agape. Beside him is a blue giant.

Leesa watches in stunned surprise. An actual giant. At nearly eight feet tall, the man is massive. From The Sapphire Isles, Land of Floating Stones, his people are the largest in the known world. Everything she's ever read describes their home as a place of mystery and wonder, anchored at the heart of the Hellion Sea. Seeing him made all of the far fetched tales suddenly seem plausible. The myths could be true and the legends believable.

The giant man himself is covered in a dark blue powder, dry and cracking in the hot sun. His shoulders are as wide as Leesa is tall and his hands are as large as shovel spades. His body is thick and solid, his feet are huge. Nude save for a loincloth, his hands and ankles are shackled. Solemn eyes watch from deep-set sockets on either side of a massive nose. A plume of blue hair juts out from the top of his bald head.

"He attacked him," a woman shouts. "Stepped out of his pen and brought his fist down on top of the man's head like a hammer on a nail."

She points down at the slowly swaying man at the giant's feet. His legs are splayed out awkwardly and he's managed to somehow lose a sandal. The ripe stench coming from his robes suggests he's voided his bowels. Leesa looks from the man to the giant with wide eyes.