Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead) (11 page)

BOOK: Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead)
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“Good day young sirs, and what may I help you with today? Oh! Charlie! I heard you were back, and this is your Bloodkin? Congratulations boy!” I wasn’t sure whether this was aimed at Charlie or myself, but he reached over the counter to clasp her hand in greeting.

“Myn Tardiallah, good to see you! Is business well?”

She laughed, a tinkling, merry sound. “As well as can be expected with the city the way it is! But look at you! The years Underground have done you well, look how you’ve filled out, you used to be such a scrawny wee thing!” Almost without pausing for breath Myn Tardiallah turned to me. “So is it your first time in Lille, boy?”

“Uh, yes, indeed it is. I’m Jaseth of Jaelshead.”

“Jaelshead eh? Good wines from Jaelshead, oh ho yes. But a bit provincial, no? Hmm, yes, you definitely need some new outfits as befitting a young Nea’thi-Blood.” She eyed me critically. “So what’ll it be? You’ll be wanting some robes of course.” She came out from behind the counter and circled round behind me. “Good gracious me, it looks like you spent a week in the saddle, the seat of these have almost worn clean through!”

I squeaked in a most unmanly fashion as she reached out and grabbed at my pants.

“Now, just let me fetch a measuring tape…” and she disappeared back through the door behind the counter.

I gave Charlie a questioning look, surely this behaviour wasn’t normal?

Charlie leaned in a whispered in my ear “She’s the best tailor in Lille. She’s Nea’thi-Blood you know.”

“Right, now Jaseth, stand up straight!” Tardiallah had returned, brandishing a measuring tape. She slung it round my shoulders, waist and hips, then measured the length of my arms and legs, getting terrifyingly close to my crotch before she had me stand up against a wall pinned with a height chart.

“Six foot one eh? You’re a big boy! Far too skinny, of course, but if I know old Eve down at the Hall she’ll be doing her best to fatten you up!” Myn Tardiallah noted down my measurements at the counter, then went over to one of the racks of robes. “Now, you’ll need something for everyday wear, for now and when it gets a bit cooler. Although I have noticed how our big grey friends tend to overheat their dwellings.” She pulled out two robes from the rack, “I think these will be best.”

The first was pale cream linen, light and airy, the other was of a finely woven wool, a darker golden shade.

“These will do nicely for now, I think. Now, you’ll be wanting something a bit more formal, for special occasions. What with the Queen coming at midwinter I’m sure there’ll be plenty of festivities to dress up for.” She beckoned me over to the far end of the shop, where bolts of fabric were arranged. “Go ahead, choose one!”

The bolts were arranged by colour, and I immediately dismissed the pinks and purples. I fingered some of the blue ones. There was a nice heavy cotton, the colour of the sky, but then maybe that wasn’t formal enough. I have to admit that I don’t really care all that much about clothes, but if there were going to be festivities, especially festivities that involved the Queen, I supposed I had better look nice. Myn Tardiallah looked on patiently as I examined a bright cobalt linen, but figured it probably wouldn’t be warm enough for evening gatherings. A dark teal blue caught my eye. The colour was deep and rich, almost
greenish. I pulled the bolt out to look more closely and Myn Tardiallah nodded, looking pleased.

“Lovely alpaca that, from down your way in fact! Nea’thi-woven, of course, to guard against most spillage.” She held a corner up to my face and grinned. “Oh yes, really brings out your eyes. Lovely, lovely.” I felt the soft fabric. Yes, this would definitely do for royal occasions.

“Now, how about some nice trim?” She pulled open a drawer full of spools of trimming and gestured for me to choose. One immediately caught my eye. It was a narrow band of royal blue, bordered with purple and gold thread with stylised emerald vine leaves curling down the middle.

“Oh yes, most fitting for a Jaelshead boy, no?” Tardiallah gathered up the cloth and the spool of ribbon and placed them on the counter. “Right, so am I correct in thinking I am to bill the Academy for these purchases?” She smiled innocently at Charlie.

“Yes please Myn Tardiallah, that would be most kind.” She nodded and wrote briefly in the large ledger on the counter.

“Jaseth dear, may I make a suggestion? Your current attire really is… almost obscene!” She hooted with laughter. “Perhaps you should try on one of your new robes now. I’m sure you’ve got an afternoon of shopping ahead of you, and I can’t have you scandalising the Quarter!”

I fidgeted, feeling the back of my pants. Surely they weren’t
that
bad? Then my fingers discovered a hole, dangerously close to the inseam, and I decided that changing into a robe now probably was a good idea.

Myn Tardiallah handed me the cream linen robe and led me to a corner tucked in beside the fabrics. She pulled a curtain on rails to give me some privacy, and I stripped off my clothes in front of a full-length mirror. Pulling the robe over my head, I struggled with the hood and the arms for a second, managed to secure the belt at my waist, then regarded my reflection. The colour certainly suited the sandiness of my hair, but there was more than that. I looked… different. I turned to the side, pulling the hood up. I looked elegant, sort of graceful. And undeniably cool.

“Having fun in there?” Charlie called out. Embarrassed, I gathered up my old clothes and pulled the curtain open. Charlie whistled through his teeth and Myn Tardiallah clapped her hands in approval.

“Would you look at that, a real Nea’thi-Blood! Well Jaseth, if you leave these with me I’ll fix them up for you, you never know when you need Human-style clothes. For riding perhaps?” She chuckled and held out her hands for my bundle of clothes, placing them on the counter beside the bolt of fabric and trim on the counter. The wool robe she folded and placed in a brown paper carry bag.

“Take this with you now, and I’ll have these other things done and sent up to you at the Hall.”

“Thank you kindly Myn Tardiallah, you have been most helpful,” said Charlie, grasping her hands warmly.

“You are most welcome my dear boys.” She walked us to the shop door. “Oh, and Jaseth? Welcome to Lille!”

 

Out in the street I felt much more confident. In my old clothes I felt I had stuck out like a sore thumb, but now, in my new Nea’thi robes I fitted right in. I liked the feel of the linen as it draped about my legs as we drifted up the lane in the slow flow of the traffic. Most of the Humans ignored us, intent on their own shopping missions, but many of the Nea’thi looked at us with friendly smiles. Every now and again someone would recognise Charlie and come over to us, shaking his hands or clapping him on the shoulder with words of congratulations and welcome. Charlie introduced me proudly, but I was quickly overwhelmed by the sea of odd names – Charlotte, Agatha,
Eugene.
The subtle differences in their colouring indicated the Enclave they were from – the slightly bluish tinged skin and ruby red eyes marked some as being from Charlie’s own Ұiờ, but there were many others who Charlie must have known from his time in Lille as a Journeyman. As it was, we made slow progress through the streets as they twisted up and away from the lake, and without Charlie there I would have been hopelessly lost. At one intersection I happened to look up. A building on one corner was only
two storeys high, and on the roof I could see a shaded garden. Stone air-bridges ran over the road, connecting the garden with other buildings, and I realised there were many such walkways hung over the streets, festooned with shadecloths three, four, even five storeys high in the air. I heard bubbles of laughter from the garden and Charlie pointed to the sign that hung by the ground-floor door.

“That’s the Shivering Thistle, best pub in the Quarter. We might be going there later, depending on what time Yұieӣấ kicks us out of the Hall.” He paused and looked for a moment like he wanted to go in, but shook his head and hurried me past and down the lane.

Not much further along we found the great bookshop, its huge freestanding shelves strongly lit. Charlie pulled out the list of texts I needed to buy and I groaned inwardly at having to find the twenty books it required in the cavernous space. But Charlie simply beckoned over an assistant, a very young-looking Nea’thi girl, clearly a Journeyman. He gave her the list along with our names and she promised to package them up and have them sent to me at the Hall.

We then went to the shop next door, similar to the bookseller’s but on a much smaller scale. Charlie helped me pick out a couple of journals, their empty pages ruled with lines for taking notes. Then he steered me to the glass-topped cabinet set into the counter so I could choose a Nea’thi-crafted pen. The shopkeeper, a severe, elderly Human gentleman of few words slid open the back of the counter and pulled out a display case so we could take a closer look.

Nea’thi pens are highly unusual; long implements of delicately wrought metals or wood that encased a glass tube for holding ink that would flow through the nib when pressed to a page. They were beautifully designed instruments, and far more efficient than using a quill. I chose one that was long and hefty, the silver lattice of a more masculine design than most of the others. The shopkeeper lifted it from the display case for me to hold. Near the nib it had a grip of polished pale wood that was a comfortable circumference for my big fingers. Satisfied, I chose a bottle of dark blue ink, and the
shopkeeper showed me how to fill the pen before tightly closing the lid and packing the bottle and the pen into a wooden box and wrapping them and the journals in paper. He grumbled quietly about “bloody students” when Charlie requested he charge the Hall for the expenses, but nevertheless took my name and handed the package over, which I placed carefully in the carry bag with my other new robe.

Out on the street again Charlie shielded his eyes and looked around. “I think we could do with some refreshments, yes?”

Actually yes, that sounded like a great idea. My light breakfast of pastries had been hours ago now, and although I was hardly overheating in my new robe, I was thirsty as anything and my feet were starting to hurt. I was thinking perhaps I should get Charlie to help me find a cobbler at some stage to get some new boots fitted. My last pair had been made for me more than six months ago, and although I could hardly believe it, they were starting to feel a bit tight. My feet were already like big paddles, and I rather hoped they had stopped growing. But visiting a cobbler would have to wait for another day, I had already done quite enough shopping.

“Yeah, I’d die for some food.”

“Righto then, let’s head back to that nice café.” And Charlie was off, pulling me through the streets, back down towards the lake.

 

finished my enormous sandwich and sat back with a happy sigh. We had found the café on the corner and were sitting at one of the outside tables, watching the crowds drift past. While we had been sitting there more people had come to greet Charlie. He seemed to have been ridiculously popular, and he remembered the names of everyone who had come to welcome him back to Lille and congratulate him on becoming a Mentor.

“Well I
was
here for eight years, on and off,” he explained after I complained about the number of people he knew. “I mean, most winters I travelled around, mostly down south, for the warmth.” He grinned self-deprecatingly. “But for the last eight years I was a Journeyman I spent the summers here. I grew rather fond of the city.”

This was not uncommon I learned. A lot of Nea’thi spent the winters in the south, or would even go back to the Enclaves for the colder seasons.

“What, so the Quarter is pretty much deserted in winter?” I asked glumly.

“Hardly! There are many of us who are hardy souls and don’t mind, really. And this year will be different of course, what with the Royal Party arriving.”

This was certainly not the first time the imminent arrival of the Queen and her Advisor had been mentioned. In fact, I had overheard a number of conversations about the movement of the government, and people seemed genuinely excited about it.

BOOK: Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead)
12.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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