Book 7: Chapter 40: Palatial hospitality
When the first Aquilans had come to the Western Isles centuries ago, brought as guests by the islanders, they had found the name of the capital incomprehensible and simply named it Port Verde. Sailing into the city, Martel understood why.
Its geographical size rivalled Morcaster, he imagined, if perhaps not in population, as most houses were built in wood rather than the big insulae made from stone that dominated the Asterian capital. The houses seemed airy and light in comparison, often with fewer walls to allow the wind free reins to cool the inhabitants, and the roofs rose with elegant carvings and tiles in different colours. Furthermore, in between each structure, trees grew, and vines spread up the walls. Lastly, the city dwelt in the shadow of great mountains covered by forest. All in all, it was a verdant sight that reminded Martel of the pristine woods they had travelled through in Tyria.
At the pier, they were met by a strong contingent of guards; strangely, all of them were Asterian. They wore a surcoat with a pair of crossed tusks that Martel recognised as a symbol of the Consortium. They kept a sharp watch as the dockworkers began unloading the ship; fetching their belongings, the two mages disembarked as well, following Kanani, who had promised the hospitality of the Consortium in gratitude for their defence of the merchant ship.
The presumed headquarters of the Island Trading Consortium was a grand palace that reeked of wealth. Statues of elephants the size of a small house flanked the entrance, and the entire façade had carved bands running along the length. No glass in the windows, which was the only thing lacking.
Inside, the same riches were on display. Statues with gems for eyes watched their approach through a grand hall, where Kanani left them briefly to explain matters to her superiors. Almost immediately, a servant appeared, bringing them each a cup of cool wine as they waited.
Kanani returned. “I’ve explained to the magister briefly what happened, and he would like to thank you. Please, follow.” As Martel grabbed hold of his travel chest, she waved a hand around dismissively. “Leave that to the servants.”
They followed the wizard up one set of stairs. Unlike the location in Aquila, Martel saw no offices with clerks toiling away; he also noticed that their destination, the study of this particular magister, was not placed at the top floor.
As for the occupant, he wore a robe with the tusks of the Consortium stitched in gold onto red. “The famous Asterian wizards.” He stood in front of his desk, waiting for them, and now quickly approached with his hand outstretched. “I am Master Quintus, representative of the Council of High Magisters.”
“Charmed. I am Eleanor Fontaine, and my companion, Martel of Engby.” Martel kept quiet and just shook his hand, wondering how the islanders chose their Asterian names; perhaps this fellow was the fifth child in the family.
“Kanani tells me you saved our ship from pirates! On behalf of the Consortium, you have our utmost thanks,” the magister continued. “You will remain as our guests for your stay in Port Verde, naturally, for however long that may be.” He glanced at Kanani. “Are rooms being prepared?”
She nodded. “The servants should be seeing to it as we speak.”
“Excellent!”
Martel exchanged looks with Eleanor; staying in a literal palace was not necessarily his preference, given what he was accustomed to, but it certainly made matters easier that they did not have to worry about accommodations, and he imagined that Eleanor might appreciate such lodgings more than he did.
“I also wrote this for you,” the magister continued with a smile, extending a piece of parchment bearing the Consortium’s seal; that was all Martel could decipher, since the writing was in unknown letters. “A writ of passage, commanding any captain of the Consortium to take you as passengers, free of charge.”
“We are most grateful for your kindness,” Eleanor declared, taking the letter.
Martel figured it was more of a transactional exchange than a gift, considering the protection they offered to any ship they travelled on; they had already proven their value and indeed bargained their presence for a free trip coming here. But as before, it did ease making arrangements if they could just show this slip of parchment whenever they wanted to travel somewhere. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Lastly, one of our Asterian guards have been asked to meet you in the entrance hall. He can show you around, provide insight into our fair city, and answer your questions, whatever they may be.” Quintus gave the smile of a trader, and he struck Martel as a smooth negotiator, which would have made the battlemage suspicious if they were striking any bargains; as it were, the man simply offered them hospitality, and Martel was practical enough to accept.
“We thank you again. We shall take no more of your time,” Eleanor told him, to which the magister bowed his head.
“I need to stay and give my report, but if you return the way you came, you’ll find your Asterian guide waiting for you,” Kanani told them.
The pair bid the islanders farewell and did as suggested, making their way down the long corridors. “I guess that makes our stay straightforward,” Martel remarked.
“I assume this place has decent baths,” Eleanor considered as they reached the stairs. “After washing in a barrel for two fivedays, I want nothing more than to sink into hot water.”
“A reasonable request. We can ask – once we find our rooms.”
“This is a strange place,” Eleanor said, glancing around the decorations on the walls as they came to the foot of the stairs. “A palace, but for a trading company. Servants like any patrician villa, but no patrician family.” Martel did not respond; in fact, he stopped walking entirely, drawing Eleanor’s attention when she likewise came to a halt and looked at him. “What is it?”
Staring straight ahead, Martel saw the Asterian waiting to be their guide. Although he wore a red surcoat with white tusks embroidered upon them rather than a knife on a black background, he was easy to recognise as Marcus, once of the Night Knives.