The ship was brought alongside a heavy oaken wharf by use of poles and hooks and ropes. The smash of small waves disturbed seaweed and beds of tiny, shiny mussels on the pylons. A few crabs scuttled out of the shadow cast by the tall ship, hiding franticly in cracks, or plopping straight down into the water.
The gangway was hoisted out, and Samakarantha was the first to depart. He breathed a sigh to be back on land. For a queasy moment, the stillness of the earth made him question himself, but his balance came back after a few very slightly wobbly steps. Shrugging his shoulders, clearing his throat, he approached a shore-man who was presently busying himself with ropes and knots. “Has the Gentleman Kob-noggle made himself known?” He was unsure of the pronunciation and so emphasised the syllables a little wrongly perhaps. The name was known to him only in writing. Letters and messages by other more esoteric methods had been sent, and a contract struck. A trader by this name was meant to meet Samakarantha, and show him to a pre-arranged residence.
The dockworker just shook his head and shrugged. But barely had Samakarantha said the name, then very thin man, with wild bedraggled hair and a bit of a stoop, shouldered his way through the crowd, tutting and huffing to himself as he did. His chin was covered in a rather powdery looking grizzle of stubble. His eyes were alert and always darting about. He bowed, tried to take off a cap that he apparently had forgotten wasn’t on his head, then said, “Very good day to you, sir. Very good. I am himself, as you say, Meester Kobnoggle. Finest purveyor of accomodations, leases and domiciles of shorter or longer durations, as required.”
“I see,” said Samakarantha. “I will have my things brought along soon. For now, I am in sore need of a bath and something to eat. I presume that the staff already have hot water over a fire?”
“Ah. Well. I cannot say for sure. They are very experienced staff. Very much so. But when last I imparted to them instructions, I did not think to apprehend and address that point in particular.”
“No doubt hot water can be provided quickly though.”
“Yes. Well. Let us proceed. This way. We must take Learys Lane, then along the Slaith, and to Halikeld Square. Bit of a walk, I’m afraid.”
The uneven cobbles of the first laneway were slippery and protruded into the soles of the feet, even through boots. On either side, the houses were narrow, gabled to lean over the road, and had a mean, broken-down visage to them. Slaith was, if anything, worse. Here, children in rags stood in doorways, dirty faced and bright-keen eyed, watching suspiciously as Samakarantha and his companion walked by. Several men were passed out in a heap, drunk, at the foot of some stairs. At the end of the street lay a dead dog that no-one had thought to tidy away. It was just starting to attract flies.
“I did make it clear, Mister Kobnoggle, that I am in need of a grand residence. Further to this point, I am quite capable of paying whatever the price might be. I plan to present myself at court, shortly. I have business with the king and lords of these lands. As such, I grow… hm… concerned at the passing scenery.”
“Well, yes, as it happens, grand residences are somewhat thin on the ground at this moment. Thegns and lairds are come from all over the Brae Demesnes, and up in the Highfeldjings, and even from the Wild Moors and the weird and witched Yail Valley.” He looked at Samakarantha knowingly. “A place where folk are said to be half-fanes with goat feet. So, yeah, even from there, the grand and gracious folk have come to Brae. They say, armies are marching, and a council is called.”
“This is good perhaps. I was afraid I might find a land unwary or asleep. But I detect a note of something I will not like. When you say that suitable residences are, how did you put it, thin on the ground–?”
“Yes. Well. I have done the best that I could manage. Given the short notice. And given the current occupation of grand houses, more or less to the gables.”
“I have already paid fifteen gold revets, with a promise of another hundred.”
“And still, accomodating your grand magus was, not trifling.”
They entered a square. It was clear that this had indeed once been a fashionable and important corner of the city. The square was wide and well-flagged. At its heart was an old, but richly carved and decorated well. All around the square stood tall brick houses of faded glory, gone all to peeled paint, rotten roofs and decrepitude. Bat guano stained the underside of the eaves. There was no glass in most of the windows. Filthy and grease-stained curtains had been pulled over what must have once been beautiful sunlit nooks. A few listless individuals went about their business. They all shot suspicious glances at Samakarantha and his companion.
Occupying the entire south end of the square, and quite looming over everything, was a house in the fashion of a very old and very run-down manor. It still retained most of its windows at least, though few of them were lit. The ornamental shrubs that lined its frontage were dead long ago. Oddly though, along with most the glass being intact, so too were the brass fixtures and the hefty iron braces that secured the brickwork. The statues that reclined in niches all possessed their heads. In contrast all the other houses had their brass and ironwork stripped, and what decorative carvings they might have once possessed were entirely gone in some instances, or otherwise, the heads had been cut off and stolen, presumably for a quick sale.
“The House of Hissocking Sprent, m’laird, sir. The only grand residence left in the city to be had for rent or purchase. Yours, lock, stock and barrel, so to speak.”
“I hope by the bells that ring in the jungles at dusk that I do not now own this place.”