((( in my version of the world, the Library of Alexandria, the Musaeum of Alexandria, and the Serapuem, are all still intact. )))
Selling Spices, I learned, was extremely difficult work. It took me four days at Kochi's stall to manage my quota, and by then, I wasn't satisfied, and so I increased the quota, and sold five cups of each of the thirty different spices, all in one day.
Kochi was pleasantly surprised, and took me to a silk peddler, who agreed to teach me about his trade as well.
A week later, I was declared a master of silk trading, and my bartering skills were 'sublime'. I didn't recognize the word, but I was told it meant 'very good', or something similar.
Now, however, it was time to travel to Damascus, on our first trade journey. At night, I had been crafting more wares, both weapons and armors, and also I had built stalls for each of the blacksmiths, plus one for Sadie and one for Maria, so we could set them up in a few minutes, and be ready.
We loaded up everything we needed for the journey, (a month-long Sail there, plus a month back, and two months inside the city,) and were on our way, after locking down the Forge heavily.
---
I recited the words the captain of our ship, (a Persian Merchant from Damascus,) was teaching me, slowly, to make sure I pronounced the odd syllables right, and staring up at the albatross that had been following us for the last ten days.
"كم هذا؟" (?how much is this)
He grinned, his beard twitching. "Yes! You learn very swiftly, Young Prince."
I grinned. "So? What language do the Damascenes speak?"
"Mm... a mixture of Arabic, Latin, Chinese, and Gallic." He nodded.
"Gallic?" I asked, unfamiliar with the term.
"Mm. The Frankish people, they are the 'Gallicans'." He explained.
I grinned. "Interesting... I speak some of their language already. So. Your homeland? Where do you hail from?"
"I? I am from Greater Persia, my friend. My emperor is a God-King, and so we spread like fire across the world, you will see." He laughed.
"A god? Which one? I am a son of Thor and Tyr. Is he Odin, perhaps? Or Loki, if he likes fire?" I asked seriously.
He hummed. "No. a different God. Our gods are very different, I think."
I nodded. "Yes, I agree. But this is interesting. I have heard that your people invented a bitter drink, called Kayfe, said to give a tired man the energy of ten boys?"
He nodded. "Oh! Kayfe. I have some, here." A small bag was produced, and he handed me a small reddish/brown bean.
I sniffed it, and coughed at the intense smell, much stronger than Tea. "Strong..." I popped the bean in my mouth before he could warn me, and hummed. "A bit bitter, but not as bad as Ugolac, or even Rahgi."
He raised a bushy eyebrow. "I know not these substances."
"Alcohols of the north. One is made of goats milk, and the other of a peculiar fruit that grows in frozen trees. Both are very bitter. This is pleasant, I think." I nodded.
"Ha! I see. Well, you're supposed to treat it like tea. You boil the beans, and drink the water, but never eat the beans." He laughed.
"Why not? Are they poisonous?" I asked, unconcerned.
"No, just... well, you may toss up your lunch if you swallow it." He shrugged.
I swallowed it to test his theory, and felt nothing except disappointment at having the delicious snack done and gone. "Hmph. Mayhap's your people's are not as sturdy as-"
