Hearts in Zenith (Four Husbands and a Lover)

3. One Small Obstacle

The disadvantage of diving into a Palmyrian canal should be obvious to anyone who had been to Palmyr. For those who didn't have the pleasure, the canals were our sewers and transportation network wrapped into one. 

I surfaced from the slimy water still pinching my nose. It was greenish, but not the turquoise green of the ocean. Murky, sickly green. If I could, I would have kept my eyes shut as well, to avoid looking at it. 

Dead rats bobbled serenely next to things so broken nobody could use them, which, in Palmyr, meant really broken.  A dog with its stiff paws pointing upward swirled majestically near me. Luckily, on this fateful morning, the bloated bodies all belonged to rats and dogs. 

Rumors had it that the underworld baronesses dumped their victims into the canals as unceremoniously as the husbands dumped the pots of night soil. I didn't know if I could have stifled a scream if a pale face of a dead woman would have surfaced near me. And screaming so near a Temple in my position... Yes, I was grateful that it was just rats and dogs!

Pushing the filth away, I swam to the side, but my fingers slipped off the slimy stones lining the shores. The current rushed me along, bumping me against the wall. 

No matter. All canals ultimately discharged into the Shining Gulf, and that's where I wanted to go anyway. So, I flipped to my back and let the water transport me. 

Above me, the gulls circled and screamed, but left me alone. On the embankments, the houses gradually gave way to huts. Then the huts gave way to warehouses and boats. Dead rats thinned out, giving way to dead fish and the salty, smoky smell of the wharfs prevailed over everything else.

More importantly, the polished blocks of stone gave way to natural bedrock as I swam away from the fancy embankment. My fingers and toes found grip in its crevices and I finally climbed out of the gutter. 

It went easier from there. 

I seemply picked my way to the outcrops too steep to build over and therefore deserted at the still early hour, then slipped down the goat trails all the way to the shoreline. 

My aim was a cove at the base of the temple cliff, a perfect half-moon with foaming surf.

The tide was still moving out, so I splashed through the puddles to the water's edge. Keeping a wary eye on the waves, I washed out as much of the gutter from my tunic, hair and sandals as possible. The knife held securely on my hip in its make-shift sheath, so I headed back to the city with a spring in my step. I even hummed as I went.

Today was the day! My day! The Divines willing, of course.

***

The Deadhead Company's compound occupied a block of flatland squeezed between the Old Docks and the crafters' neighborhoods. All the guilds wanted a property there, for quick access to the biggest and busiest marketplace in Palmyr, the Old Market.

The Divines' Canal cut the crofters, wheelwrights and potters off from the villas and the palaces. 

But not the tanners. Oh, no! Not the tanners!

The tanners' stinking business had been banned beyond the city limits before my time due to the unbearable stench a sniffing distance away from the Royal Palace. 

After centuries of squabbles over the land rights, the Tanners' Guild left the patrician Palmyr enjoy their perfumed gardens, leapfrogged the canals and started up the New Market to the East. It was a twin to the Old Market, but it just wasn't the same. Any merchant sailing into Palmyr knew that the Old Market was where she wanted to sell. 

The New Market was for the desperate.

Naturally, I went to the Old Market. It engulfed me the moment I stepped out of the warren of the warehouses and shops into the plaza covered with stalls.