Tint (ch 1)

"Tint (prologue)" 

Tint of Death

Chapter 1

Bruce sat on a wooden bench outside a nondescript inn and watched the square. It was the largest square in the town, about thirty yards to a side. In the centre sat a well surrounded by men, drawing water for the horses that lined the north side of the square, and women, collecting water for their homes. Some of the men leered at the prettier of the women, who pretended to ignore them and left as soon as their buckets were filled. The men would carry their full buckets to the communal horse troughs on the north side of the square. That entire side was devoted entirely to the care and sale of horses. The eastern side of the square was filled with merchants and their customers, divided into two general groups; low priced and everyday items to the north, luxuries to the south. Facing them, on the west was the hiring fair. Here people in need of work and people in need of services tried to strike mutually beneficial deals. Bruce watched the various activities from the south side. Behind him, making up the last side of the square, were various inns, none of them particularly bad or good. Next to him on the bench was a wooden mug, filled with stale ale, that he took a sip from when-ever he forgot that it tasted horrible. Bruce was dressed in his normal plain brown britches, green shirt and leather waistcoat. He was waiting for Seth to come from the hiring fair. He would probably have to wait until nightfall, Seth never left an opportunity to bargain unless it left him, but it was already late in the afternoon, so he was not really bothered by the wait. Seth was looking for a customer or, as many preferred to be called, employer, who needed a few men that were not averse to fighting. Since Seth always got better pay if he went alone Bruce had used the day in another persuit.

Bruce had looked for a new sword for most of the morning, his was lying in the marshlands of Northreach, probably rusted to pieces, and he had been forced to use axe until he could find a replacement. Bruce did not like using the axe. It moved wrong in a swordsman's hands and,besides, he was much better with his weapon of choice. He had managed to find a sword, a good one, nice balance and strong steel, for ten silver pieces! It was practically robbery! But he had paid the price because the sword was worth it, and he had done some robbery himself over the years so who was he to judge? His new sword rested next to him on the bench to his right in a leather scabbard (he had managed to get the armorer to include it in the price, he'd decided not to tell Seth about the cost), and Bruce felt relatively at peace with the world.

Just before sunset he caught sight of Seth, with a stranger accompanying him, walking back to the inn. This was new, Seth had never brought a customer to meet Bruce until they had decided to take the job. Bruce looked at the pair as they approached. Seth, in much the same garb as Bruce , with his muscular but not overly large build, medium length brown hair and peaceful seeming face, was walking with the slight spring to his step that meant he had found a particularly good job. The stranger, obviously a merchant in the fine clothes he was wearing, was half a head shorter than the fighting man by his side. He had a slight paunch, as you'd expect to see on a merchant and long blonde hair. His clothes were mostly blue, except for his coat which was black, and he had a small gold medallion round his neck.
"Ah, Bruce," said Seth as they reached him,"this fine gentleman is Bennel of Wesmar, a merchant in need of fifteen guards to take him to Noriton. He wishes to leave tomorrow and is willing to pay 4 silver pieces a day, plus food, and if we run into any trouble he'll double the price. Are you interested?"
Bruce stood up and saw, with some satisfaction, as Bennel of Wesmar realized for the first time just how big the warrior was. His seven foot frame was fleshed out with muscles built by many, many battles. His black hair was braided down his back as far as his waist, and his face made him look as if he was always angry. all in all he was an impressive figure.
He put out his hand to shake the startled merchants unresisting hand and said, in a voice that could make seasoned fighters pause, "What time do you wish to leave, and where should we meet tomorrow?"

"I...I...uh...That is...you'll take the job?" replied the still shaken Bennel, not quite believing the impossible size of the man in front of him.
"Of course we'll take it!", thundered Bruce, a little impatiently, "Now, where and when should we meet tomorrow?"
"Uh...um...at the...uh...the western gate, at...at ten o'clock." Stammered the merchant.
"Good," said the huge man,"we'll be there tomorrow." and he sat down again, and seemed to ignore his new employer.
"Now, sir, if you please, we need to get some rest," said Seth to the merchant. Seth was very good at mitigating the effect that Bruce had on people, which was a good thing because if he hadn't been there it would have been very difficult for Bruce to get any work.
"Yes...I'll see you tomorrow." Said Bennel, and left the two men rather hastily.
"I just love the expression on their faces when they see you for the first time! A good performance by the way." Seth said to his friend.
"I know," replied the big man, in a surprisingly more gentle tone,"Do you think he'll be there tomorrow?" His voice could have belonged to any farmer you cared to name.
"Oh, certainly, old friend, certainly. Ours was the only band large enough in this so called town. I'm amazed that we are here, its so small! Anyway, he needs us to protect his precious carpets, and he says he has to get there in a fortnight to make Noriton's market day. He'll be there." assured Seth.
"Good. Well we'd better get the lads together. I was sure this place would'nt have need for a band as large as ours. You take the other inns I'll handle the ones here in the square. Remember, I want no hangovers tomorrow. Tell them if they do I'll spent the whole morning shouting at them, and you know my voice." And with that he stood and walked into the inn.

***

Tint was not having a good day. First off, the landlord had insisted that Tint pay for another meal. Tint's explanation that he hadn't eaten the previous nights meal had been met with "If you didn't eat it, that's your problem!" and he had had to pay the man a copper before he could quiet his stomach's vehement demands. The meal was not a good one, and tint had left the inn and it's surly innkeeper in search of a job. He had managed to find out, from one of the serving girls, where the hiring fair was.
"Its next to the horse market," she had told him, and had smiled in a way that reminded him of his sister. She had mistaken the expression on his face as contempt and had left his table, much to Tints relief.
Finding the horse market had been harder than he thought. There were ten different horse markets and he had visited six of them before he found the right one. By that time it was past noon and he had had to pay another copper for a small pastry and a cup of water for his lunch.

Then he had tried to find employment. In his opinion the men hiring had impossibly high standards, and asked questions which he couldn't answer to their satisfaction. Questions like; "You any good with a sword?","Know any thing about horses?","Are you from this city?" the last one a little suspiciously. He could not use any weapon, and the the closest he'd been to a horse had been when one had almost knocked him over a few hours before. He had spoken to people the whole afternoon, slowly becoming more and more dispirited as they all said no, until, suddenly, there was no-one there and it was after dark. With his spirits lower than the ground he stood on, he turned to find his way back to the inn.

***

Bruce was happy when he saw the walls that surrounded the town of Noriton. He was always relieved when he finished a job, but this time it was because his current job had been very trying. His men had been attacked seven times on the road. Seven times! Who would have thought that a few pieces of rug would be so valuable? After the first attack he had asked Bennel if there was any-thing else of value in his three wagons. Bennel, who had overcome his shock at the size of the dark haired man, had spent the next ten days explaining the value of his carpets. Apparently they had a high number of knots per inch (whatever that meant) and were made from seven different types of thread. It turned out that Bennel was impossible to shut up, once he started talking, and Bruce had tried to keep his distance from the brightly clothed man. Luckily only three men had been hurt, none seriously, and the journey was now almost at an end.

The group rode into the city, through the west gate just as the sun was going down, and stopped in the first square they came to.
"Well, were here." said Bruce
"Yes we are," replied the very happy merchant."And I'm incredibly greatfull to you and your men for the protection you gave me and my cargo. Without you I would be dead and my beautiful carpets would be in some-one else's hands. Did I tell you about their quality? They-"
"YES you did!", interrupted Bruce, before the man could start again on his favorite subject. "Now I'd like to be paid, if you don't mind."
"Of course, of course." replied the merchant and he went off to find Seth and pay him the money.

While this was happening Bruce said to his men "Right, good show. Find a place to stay and come to the Fat Pig inn to tell me where you're staying. Seth'll pay you as usual. Now I want a meal a bath and a bed, in that order, so out of my way!" and he went to find the Fat Pig inn, his usual place in Noriton.

Arriving at the inn, he dismounted and gave his horse to the stable hand. Then he went inside. The common room was just as it had been the last time he had been in the city. It never changed. The tables were exactly where they had been four months ago, so were the benches. Well of course they were, the furniture was nailed down. He walked over to the innkeeper and said "Bork, I want a room, a meal, a good one mind, not the usual pigswill you serve, and a bath. Hop to it!", and he turned, without waiting for a reply, to survey the room. Every bench was taken except one in the corner. Well he'd just sit there, and if the young man on the other side of the table had a problem with it he wouldn't say any-thing to a man as big as Bruce. He walked over to the table and sat down. The young man looked up and got such a fright at the size of the man he was looking at that he fell backwards off the bench. Feeling a little bad at the way he had been thinking a few moments before Bruce went round the table and helped the youth up.
"Sorry to have startled you." said Bruce in a gentle voice."It was not my intention."
"I'm fine. It was just so unexpected." replied the young man, a trifle shaky.
"My name's Bruce."
"My name's Tint." said Tint.

The innkeeper brought the large man his meal and left. The two new aquaintances talked. Bruce told Tint of his work, and Tint told him of his recent misfortunes. He told him about the bandits, his family dying, how he had buried them, his search through the village for all the money he could find, how he had walked for a day from his village to get to the city, and of his failure to find a job that afternoon.

"And the sad thing is that they are right." said Tint,"I don't have any skills that are useful in the city. I'm the son of a hunter.How is that of use in a city?"
"Well, thats a sad story for a young man to tell. Maybe I can help you. Tomorrow go to the blacksmith Durel, tell him I sent you. Ask him if there is anything he know of that you can do. I think he'll be able to help you." Said Bruce to the dejected youth. And then he got up and left because he had finished his meal and his bath was ready.
Tint sat at the table feeling dejected and alone. But he resolved to go to the blacksmith, what was his name? Durel. Maybe he would have a job for him. With that he went to bed.

The next day ,after another meal for a copper, Tint went to find the smith. He asked a stall-holder selling knives if he knew where to find the man called Durel.
"Go to the west quarter, near the cartwright's shop, in Horse street. Could I interest you in a belt knife? Very cheap!" was his reply.
Tint thanked him and left to find the cartwright. After several wrong turnings, and many different sets of directions he found the right street. And there was the cartwright's, so where was the smithy? He couldn't see it so he went over to the man standing outside the cartwright's shop and said "Excuse me, but do you know where I can find a man by the name of Durel? He's a blacksmith."
The man looked at him and asked, in a suspicious tone,"What do you want him for?"
"I think that that is a private matter between him and me." answered Tint, a little defensively.
"Hm. Well his shop is over there." said the man, pointing to a set of closed doors on the side of the street.
Tint thanked him and went to Durel's shop.

The heat from the forge fire hit Tint like a slap in the face with a warm wet washcloth. He started to sweat the moment he opened the door. The inside of the shop looked just like the smithy that had been in Tint's village, and he had thought for a second that none of the terrible events of the past few days had happened, that it had all been a bad dream, but the sight of the smith ended that line of thought. He had the same build as Jenka had had, but his face and hair were different. He looked up when he heard the door close.
"Hello, who are you?" he asked in voice of pleasant surprise.
"My name's Tint, sir. I'm looking for work, sir. Bruce sent me." said Tint.
"Bruce sent you, did he?", asked the smith, "How is the little man?"
"He's fine, sir, but maybe you mean another man. The Bruce I'm talking about is huge!" exclaimed the young man.
"No. We're thinking of the same man. Well, Bruce is fine. Thats good. Tell me what skills do you have?"
"None that would be useful in a city. I come from a village. I'm the son of a hunter."
"None that would be useful? We'll see about that. Come here tomorrow and we'll see what skills you do have." said Durel as the man who had pointed Tint to the smithy came in through the door.
"Ah, Bade. This is Tint. Bruce sent him. He's starting here tomorrow, to see what he can do that's useful. Yes lad you've got a job. Now go and have a good rest today. You'll need it tomorrow." The last was said in response to Tint's incredulous face.

Tint walked back to the Fat Pig inn. He was feeling much more optimistic about the future. He had a job. Maybe he would be able to keep it. It all depended on what he could do tomorrow.

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