Sins of Greed - A Tale of Two Fools, Book One

Chapter 10 - To Be A Dindle

The day was a gloomy one. The sun was nowhere to be seen, hidden behind layers and layers of thick dark clouds. It was already raining, the type of rain that's soft and pattering, but relentless and never-ending. The color of the clouds spelled much more to come, as if the streets and cobblestone pathways of Bidvale weren't wet enough. 

There wasn't many people outside today, other than a handful of determined merchants and important business-goers who were leaving and entering Bidvale's gates. 

The capital of Lurinlia was a walled city, one of the few in the country. Giant stone walls surrounded the entire city (with the exception of the Docks), with several large and heavily manned iron gates stationed in each direction of the compass. A North Gate, a West Gate, a South Gate, and an East Gate. The North and South Gates led to gardens and forested areas just outside the city. The East Gate led out to the Docks and Bidvale Harbor. 

The West Gate was the unofficial "entrance" or "front door" to the city. It was the gate most stationed with soldiers and City Watchmen, and was also the gate most lavishly decorated. Hanging gardens and greenery surrounded the entire West Gate face, looking as if the threshold to Bidvale was actually an entrance to some exotic and wild jungle. There were also two enormous stone statues of kneeling, observing men, known as The Beholders, that were the size of Giants and that watched and greeted all of the passersby. 

In between The Beholders, making his way under the hanging gardens and through the West Gate into Bidvale Proper, was Abben. On his carriage, leisurely guiding his horses into the city, he found himself feeling... depressed. As much as he loved his work, and as proud as he felt in taking after his father's footsteps, he did not like life at court. The drama, the intrigue, the backstabbing, it all left a bad taste in his mouth. He enjoyed his times out in the world, where he felt closest to his father's heart and spirit. In a way, he felt he got along with creatures more than he did with people. 

"Abben!" came a voice from Abben's right, just as he was passing under the West Gate and entering the city. He looked in the direction of the voice and found himself looking at one person he did enjoy the company of; Kirlin, the bookseller. 

"Kirlin! How are you?" He remembered the fact that it was raining and this eighty-year old man probably shouldn't be out in this weather. "Why are you out here in this weather? You could get sick." 

Kirlin finished up with the merchant he was buying his wares from (it looked like powders of some sort), gave the man a purse of coins, and turned back to look at Abben. 

"Are you calling me old?" 

"No. Not really." 

"You must be calling me old, otherwise why would you imply that I'm so weak and frail to fall ill in a bit of cold water?" 

"Okay, I guess I am calling you old. Well, you are old, Kirlin." 

"Shut up, you little shit. May I get on your carriage? My legs aren't what they used to be." 

Abben motioned to the empty seat next to him, quietly laughing to himself regarding this old man's denial and anger at being called old, and then his apparent self-admittance to the fact. 

After he was on, Abben gently motioned for his horses to pick up their walking pace. 

"Would you like a coat, at least?"

"I suppose." 

Abben reached to a pack next to him, pulling out a spare cloak and handing it to Kirlin. He put it on. 

"How is Morticus?" 

"Oh, Morticus? Other than the fact that he's convinced there is a higher demon somewhere in this city, he's just fine."