The Clocks

Alicia watched them go with some irritation. Though the average person wouldn't have noticed anything amiss, she could tell that Aldus had had too much to drink and that he was covering by using Mario to steady himself.

She had some serious thinking to do. She hadn't wanted to consider the matter in question yet, but events rarely walk up to you and ask permission to turn your world upside down. Consequently she did what she usually did when she needed to think. She washed dishes. It was a relatively mindless task, and her staff had learned not to interrupt her when she was so engaged. She had a rather, let's say "penetrating", voice when her ire was roused, and not one person working for her ever wanted to hear it pointed in their direction twice.

So they worked around her, and she, as she liked to say, "thunk."

One problem, and she had to admit that it was mostly hers, was her size. Her Scandinavian ancestry had left her unusually tall (at 176 cm) and big boned, with broad shoulders and, at least for The City, unusually wide hips and an overly generous bust.

Aldus was a good 15 centimeters shorter than she was. On top of that, he was on the slim side and looked rather scrawny. Thus, at first glance, she appeared to weigh nearly twice what he did. She didn't of course. With all that muscle on him, at 73 kilos she barely massed 5% more than he did. Still, it was embarrassing, especially when people remarked that when they were standing together her rear-end was wide enough that Aldus could completely hide behind it.

Bah! She was ignoring the real question, which was: Did he feel the same way about her as she did about him?

Before she could get herself any more depressed, she was interrupted by one of her newer, and most soft-spoken maids.

Alicia rounded on her, intending to give her a piece of her mind, but the anxiety on Priscilla's face cut her knee-jerk reaction off cold.

"Whatever is the matter child? You look like someone almost scared you out of your skin."

As Alicia hurriedly dried her hands, Priscilla spoke in almost a whisper, "I didn't want to interrupt you Mistress, but you said that we should report right away when something upstairs was amiss."

"Right you are child. So, what happened?"

"It's that merchant, Mr. Ringvold's room. I heard loud voices coming from inside. They sounded sorta angry. When you hired me you said: 'Arguments in rooms oft-times spill out into the halls and then into the taproom. That's why we need to nip them in the bud. It reduces breakage, both of things and of people.'"

She hung her head and almost stammered, "So...that's why I'm here Mistress."

She added hurriedly, "I didn't see anything amiss, but even so, you did give explicit orders."

Alicia beamed at her. "Good work child. Let's go see what's going on."

She frowned as Priss turned to leave. "That won't do. You found the problem. You came to me, as was proper. But you're not done yet. You need to learn to follow through to the end. Let's go."

So saying, Alicia walked briskly up the back stairs leading from the kitchen to the second floor, then carefully went to the appropriate door. As reported, there were loud voices, but it soon became apparent that the "voices" were only one voice that was changing in intensity depending on what was said.

"Did you understand what was being said inside Priscilla?"

"No ma'am. I only heard that it was loud, so I came to get you straightaway."

"Very well. You're dismissed to your usual duties. There's probably not a problem here, but I'll just listen a bit longer to make sure."

Priscilla gave a sigh of relief then quickly headed up to the third floor.

After Priscilla had exited up the stairs, Alicia carefully leaned toward the door and put her ear against it. Several minutes later a wide grin split her face. It looked like the problem she'd been so worried about wasn't a problem after all.

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The next morning's dawn came a bit sooner than Aldus had anticipated. At least that's what his head was telling him. As a result, he decided that he needn't be quite as early to call on his customers as he had originally planned. Negotiating while you had a hangover was much worse than dealing with a fully-awake client.

Mario, having had no ale at all, was alert, chipper, and full of energy. That was a problem, but it was one that Aldus could deal with easily. When Mario entered his room, Aldus sent him off with instructions, to "observe the markets and learn how trading is done in this city. I also want you to report to me this afternoon with your observations on how things differ here from the other cities we've visited and on what techniques you think might work to our advantage when we deal with the locals."

Mario nodded and gave a small, but respectful, bow. Then he trotted off to break his fast and afterwards to head up the hill to follow what was, to him, a perfectly reasonably order from his master.

Aldus shook his head at the naivete of puppies like Mario, gently so as not to worsen his headache, then buried his head under the covers. Another two hours of sleep should put him in a more functional state.

---------------

Almost immediately Mario noticed that the locals moved about at a steady, measured pace. As he was already feeling some aching in his legs after setting off from the inn at his usual brisk walk, he could easily see why. While the hill wasn't all that steep, in fact the rise was barely perceptible, it was a long way to the top. Truth be told, he was so excited about exploring that he'd unconsciously been walking even faster than usual.

Soon after, his legs decided that he should slow down too, Once he did, he noticed that a certain tension in those around him had disappeared. He reasoned that what he had been doing before clearly labeled him as an outsider.

At his now more sedate speed, he took note of the clothing of those who were up and about. There really wasn't any particular style that was worn, unless "no distinctive style" was the local style. Once he reached one of the market squares, he spent some time drifting with the crowd so he could get a feel for what was being sold here and how.

In the tents along two sides were sellers of things like incense, religious figures, and various trinkets that might appeal to children or serve as souvenirs for friends and relatives "back home." The other two sides contained real storefronts which probably had the tradesmen's living quarters above them. These were all selling items of higher quality, and price, though most were the same type of goods as those being sold in the tents. There were a few stores which were selling what appeared to be high quality, small wooden boxes and display pieces. Two more were selling jewelry of various sorts, with items of higher value displayed behind the counters.

As he drifted along, he heard at least five distinct languages, as well as three dialects of Italian that he recognized and two others that he didn't. At least he thought that they were probably Italian. While he was puzzling out the few words that he thought he might recognize given some effort, he gradually became aware of one particular person who also seemed to be drifting through the crowd.

However, unlike him, she occasionally stopped to talk to the sellers and, less frequently, she also bought one or two things. Before he realized it, Mario had become fascinated by her, and not only because of how she looked.

She was unusually tall for a woman, probably at least 180 cm, and she had darkish skin, though somewhat lighter than that of the traders he'd seen coming off ships from Africa. The part of her hair sticking out from under her scarf was as curly as theirs, but it was an attractive silver color, such as one saw among the Celtic people from the northlands. The color was probably due to that rather than her age, which he reckoned to be only around 35. Unlike the African traders, who uniformly had dark-brown eyes, hers were a striking, pale blue.

Even among the highly variable clothing he'd seen so far, hers was distinctive. He didn't recognize the style, but the cut of the fabric, and the material itself, were obviously of the highest quality. The bright white of her dress perfectly set off her skin and hair, and the effect was almost mesmerizing.

He shook his head ruefully. In spite of all that, what had first drawn his attention was what she was buying rather than her appearance. He guessed that he really was a trader at heart! Some of the things she bought were obviously excellently made, but others seemed so much less so that one such as she wouldn't be expected to buy them even as toys for her children.

He stopped in an area between two tents and focused his attention inward, trying to figure out what her purchases had in common.

Soon thereafter he felt a "presence" in front of him. He looked up from his musings to find the woman in question staring down at him. "You've been watching me for quite some time boy. What are your intentions?"

She was smiling, but, somehow, Mario felt that if he gave the "wrong" answer, he'd find himself regretting it, and probably very painfully.

"Ah, excuse me ma'am. I've just arrived in town and my master sent me to observe how trading works here, and, well, I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how the things you purchased could possibly be linked together."

He looked up at her and winced at her stern expression. "That's the truth ma'am!"

He ducked his head, in preparation for being hit for his presumption. What he wasn't prepared for was her response. He heard a hearty laugh, then a hand crept under his chin and pulled his head up to look at her face. "Well, well. An honest answer. Nowadays, one doesn't hear such very often."

She shoved her packages at him, turned around, and began to walk away. She stopped after a few paces and looked back over her shoulder. "Well, come on. Neither of us has all day. Let's be going."

Totally confused, Mario juggled her parcels into a manageable order, then did as she had bidden. He would no more disobey her than he would Master Ringvold, though, if asked, he couldn't have told you why.

She led him around several corners, into narrower and narrower streets, eventually arriving at a cafe that, while not very busy at this time of day, gave off the feeling that it was a very popular place with the upper classes. Seeing his "guide" greeted by name ("Miranda" was as elegant a name as she was herself) and bowed to a corner table by a person who appeared to be the owner, caused Mario's eyebrow to rise in speculation. It seemed that he'd fallen in with an important person.

She pointed to a shelf in an alcove to the side of the table, and Mario carefully placed her packages on it. He was unsure of what to do next until she pointed at the chair opposite hers. He seated himself gingerly and looked at her attentively and respectfully, as he had been painfully taught when an apprentice.

"Not bad. You're not quite there yet, but still, not bad for someone your age. Speaking of which, how old are you boy, around 17?"

"Ah, yes ma'am, I mean no ma'am. I'm 16 ma'am."

She tapped herself gently on the side of her face with the white fan that she held in her right hand. Mario could swear that he hadn't seen her holding it earlier. Mentally he boxed himself on the ears again. He needed to pay more attention to what was going on around him.

As he was working on better control of his face and body language, Miranda relaxed and enjoyed observing her new toy. They were so endearingly awkward during their teen growth spurts. Mario's clothes were rather loose at the cuffs, which covered it up some, but both the arms and legs were about two centimeters too short.

He'd probably be on the handsome side when he grew into himself, what with that cap of dark, curly hair that so many of those of Greek extraction had, that and his above-average height.

She cleared her throat, and Mario gave her his full attention, not even noticing the server until he delivered a tray containing a pot of a delightfully fragrant tea and two cups. He poured for both of them then made a silent departure.

Miranda studied him for a full minute, not saying anything at all, then, finally, nodded her head. "Very well boy. I think you'll do well. First of all though, tell me your name. It seems only fair seeing that you know mine.... You DO know mine, don't you?"

"Yes indeed Lady Miranda. Ah, my name is Mario, Mario Brown."

She said nothing but looked at him expectantly.

Mario hastened to add, "I'm a journeyman assigned to Master Aldus Ringvold."

Hearing that she nodded appreciatively. "Ah. Aldus. I'd wondered who he'd be bringing with him this time seeing as how Madeline has been promoted to Senior Journeyman. So you're his new trainee. Well, well...."

Mario was beyond shocked by her pronouncement, though he tried his best to hide it. Madeline Chastain had only been elevated to her new rank two weeks earlier. Who was this lady that she learned of it so quickly, and what was he getting himself into?

Miranda slightly raised her left eyebrow and gave him a wry smile, obviously amused by his attempt to hide his surprise but at the same time acknowledging his attempt. "I think you'll do quite well young Mario. Quite well indeed."

She tapped her fan on her cheek again. "Let me make you a proposal. I'll tell you why I bought the things I did, and, more importantly, I'll teach you how to tell the finer quality local items from the lesser. How does that sound?"

Mario felt like a cat that had discovered an unattended saucer of cream. He nodded his agreement several times, but was interrupted by her extended palm. "Not so fast child. Never make a deal until you've heard all the specifications."

She frowned slightly, and he cringed in response. "You should have learned that some time ago. I'll forget to mention that to Aldus, IF you promise not to do that again. Are we agreed?"

Mario nodded slowly and carefully, and Miranda went on, "In exchange I want information from you as well. You tell me the stories of what you've seen and heard on your travels, and answer my questions. I can't leave The City any more, and I miss the news from the outside world.

"Well then, that's the entirety of my proposal. How say you?"

Taking a deep, slow breath to relieve the stress that had been building inside him after her reprimand, Mario answered as calmly as he could, "It is a more than fair proposal milady."

He held his hand out in the formal gesture of contracting, "We are agreed."

She mimicked his gesture then settled back. "Then let us begin. But first, we should have some tea. What they serve here is exquisite, and I don't want it to get cold."

After taking a few sips and leaning back comfortably in her chair she asked, "Tell me the name of this cafe and the street it is on."

"This is the Black Cat Patio, and we're on a street that seems to be called 'Ambleton' if I read the sign correctly."

Miranda sighed and sipped some more. The tea here really was uncommonly good, and she needed to rest. Specifically she needed at least another 20 minutes or so to recover the energy she'd expended when she'd cast her seeking spell on the marketplace.

Most people knew that mages did things somehow, but they never realized that there was always a cost for a spell. They also expected chanting and arm waving and other such dramatics. While it was true that a rhythmic, spoken spell required less energy, and appropriate gestures reduced the cost even further, such things drew the attention of everyone in the vicinity. For various reasons, most mages preferred not to be noticed when working.

The other reason for her fatigue was that casting a spell with multiple stipulations increased the cost, and it wasn't just additive. Each stipulation doubled the energy drain, so her casting in order to attract someone who was honest, intelligent, discreet, a regular traveller, and young enough to suit her purposes took a lot of energy.

She gestured for Mario to begin speaking. She soon noticed, with some satisfaction, that Mario was already rather good at painting pictures with his words. As he spoke, he reported some very interesting meetings that he had observed, although it was clear that he was as of yet too inexperienced to understand all their implications.

This was going to work out very well. She would definitely keep her end of the bargain and teach Mario what he needed to know about the local crafts. As she continued to sip at her tea, she wondered when he would come to appreciate that she always got the best of any bargain she made. Most likely it would take Mario at least another 10 years. That would give Aldus more than ample time to finish his training and for Mario to find his own footing thereafter. Then she could fully recruit him into her organization.

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At the same time, Aldus was finally waking up. His head was still not all there, but he was feeling at least somewhat better. He also smelled something vaguely herbal. He sat up, though with his eyes still closed -- things were overly bright for some reason -- stuck out his hand and then gulped down the contents of the mug that was placed in it.

An acerbic, feminine voice began to admonish him, thankfully in almost a whisper, "Well Aldus you're getting at least a little bit better. You stopped drinking last night after you'd only had one mug more than you should rather than three or four as you would have five years ago.

"You're going to have to do better still, starting about right now I think. It's already bad enough that women tend to outlive their men by five to seven years, and with you being four years older than I am, I'll be starting at a disadvantage. If you truly want me, you're going to have to take a LOT better care of yourself from now on. AND you're going to have to settle down here in The City after you've finished your new journeyman's primary training next year. Someone else will have to take over and complete it."

Aldus' eyes had flown open in astonishment at the words, "If you truly want me." He'd never said a word to Alicia about wanting to marry her, yet here she was, right in front of him, looking at him very sternly yet at the same time with soft, warm eyes.

He sprang out of bed...at least he tried to. He'd forgotten to make sure that his feet weren't tangled in the sheets. He teetered back and forth for several seconds before he crashed back down.

He looked up at Alicia with a faintly hurt expression. Rather than sympathy, she had her arms crossed on her chest and was scowling at him. "No way. Not going to happen. I'm not putting myself in that cliched situation where I try to keep you from falling and you pull me down on the bed with you."

He considered trying to look innocent but gave it up. She was at least as smart as he was. If she hadn't been, he'd never have been interested. Therefore all he did was ask quietly, "If you would please help me get untangled?"

Once she had done so he stood, carefully this time, and took both of her hands in his. "Alicia Strongbow, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I solemnly promise to do my very best to live as long as I possibly can. Frankly the idea of not having you in my life is too painful to contemplate, and I believe that I'll feel the same way even after I die."

Alicia stepped closer, wrapped her arms around him, and squeezed...and squeezed. Almost immediately Aldus moaned, "Alicia dear, you're a bit stronger than I'd expected. Do you think you might moderate your grip before I pass out from lack of air?"

She released him, stepped back slightly, then reached down and pulled his face up to be kissed. Afterwards she murmured, "I accept your proposal, as well as the investment you'd planned to bribe me with to get me to agree."

Seeing the astonishment on his face she grinned at him. "No, I'm not a Foreseer, that's Priss' talent, but when a proprietor of an establishment such as this gets a report from her staff about the sound of an argument in a room where there should be only one resident, she obviously checks it out to make sure that there are no non-paying guests who have snuck in.

"Priss couldn't understand you and didn't realize that you were talking to yourself, but my hearing is quite good. I must admit that listening to you run through your potential proposals was extremely amusing, especially the part where you said: 'No, no that won't work, I'll sound like I'm trying to buy her. But she knows I'm a businessman. Ye gods! Why don't they teach you how to propose to the woman you love when you're in the Merchant Academy'.

"Frankly, it was very flattering to hear that you cared enough to put some real effort into it."

Her smile lit up her entire face. "Nobody else ever tried so hard to win me, which is probably why you've succeeded my love. Now, let's go get you some breakfast, and some nice cider to drink, shall we?"

She stretched out her hand, took his, then led him down to the dining area. They had a great deal to discuss seeing as they had to plan both a wedding and the integration of their several businesses.