Histrionical Diner: 6-7
Lots of footnotes in this. I may scatter anachronisms like confetti, but you can't say I don't do my research!
Chapter 6:
Njord, it seemed, did not feel like favoring Lofn the Fair with a good wind. It was evening on the tenth day when the helmsman finally sighted Ostia. Ricimer had never been happier to see something in his life-or so he thought at that moment. He had never had much liking for the sea, even on his few brief excursions into it, but had not mentioned anything of the sort to the pirates, for fear of offending them. Eyvindr the Black-Bearded was not the sort of person he felt it would be wise to offend.
Even though the dragon-ship was still some distance away, it was easy to tell that Ostia was a very large city. The stone warehouses on the waterfront grew larger and more imposing as Lofn the Fair approached, and a high guard-tower made Ricimer wonder if maybe this was not such a good idea after all-not that it had been a very good idea in the first place. But Eyvindr seemed sure of himself, and Ricimer still felt it would not be wise to offend him.
Lofn the Fair, as it was rowed into the harbor-Eyvindr only put his men to the oars when he needed more maneuverability-seemed quite small among the other merchant ships. Some were stately triremes with large, vivid blue eyes painted on their prows. These were from Grecia, bearing olive oil for wealthy Romans. Other ships were from Phoenicia and Carthage.
The docks were full of ships, and Eyvindr was tearing his beard by the time the helmsman finally found a spot, slipping Lofn the Fair into one space as a sleek Iberian ship pulled out. As a pair of crewmen secured the cable to a ring in the dock, Ricimer saw a Carthaginian ship float past, the captain shaking his fist at them and shouting furiously in Greek. Obviously he was having as much trouble finding an empty space as they had.
“Hmm. Rush hour’s never been like this in Aarhus1. Always a docking spot there somewhere.” Ricimer jumped, and turned to find Eyvindr the Black-Bearded standing at his shoulder. “So, what do you think of Roman cities?”
“It’s...big.” Even the dock area was overwhelming. The largest city-well, town-he had been to was Trier, and that only once before the tribe left Gallia Belgica upon the death of his father and subsequent threats to their territory by larger tribes. Gallia Cisalpina2 had no established settlements besides a few small villages which occasionally hosted markets. “But I don’t think I don’t like it,” he added quickly. He liked being where there were other people he wasn’t related to. As long as they weren’t shanghaiing him, or trying to marry him. That he could do without.
“Aye, it’s a busy place and no mistake, lad.” Beckoning Ricimer to follow, the pirate captain shouldered a bulging sack and descended the gangplank. Ricimer had to half-run to keep up. He could see gold glinting through worn patches in the rough weave of the sack.
“Where are we going?” Ricimer asked.
“To see if the merchants here are as crooked as the ones in Aarhus.”
Chapter 7:
Eyvindr the Black-Bearded was one of those very stubborn people who hate to ask for directions, so it took them almost an hour of walking through the narrow, dirty, labyrinthine streets to find a jeweler’s shop that would purchase with no questions asked (they were selling pirate loot, after all). Ricimer went in ahead of the pirate captain, pushing aside the leather curtain that hung across the doorway.
Inside, the shop of Vespasianus the jewel dealer did not look like a very reputable establishment. There was a thick layer of dust on everything, except the jewelry displayed on the counter, which looked as if it had been polished almost constantly. A few thick spiderwebs, also dust coated, clung tenaciously to one corner of the ceiling. All was lit poorly by a few oil lamps and a dirty window.
Vespasianus himself, who now emerged from a dingy room at the back of the store, did not look much better than his shop. He was a small, sharp-faced man, who was perhaps not old yet but certainly past middle age. “Well, what do you want?” he asked sharply. “Are you here to buy, or sell? If you’ve no mind for either then you’re not welcome here!”
In reply, Eyvindr swung the sack of booty off his shoulder and set it on the counter with a valuably metallic crash. Removing a golden armband set with pearls, he held it up to the light-such light as there was-and began eloquently touting its value and rich heritage in a paean of Gothic.
“That’s all very nice, I’m sure,” the jeweler said when Eyvindr the Black-Bearded had finished his infomercial, “but this transaction would go much better if I could understand what you just told me.”
The pirate captain also seemed to notice this problem, and Ricimer took the silence as an opportunity to speak. “You did bring me here to translate for you,” he pointed out.
“Aye, so I did. Here,” he tossed the armlet to Ricimer, who caught it gingerly. “Tell him this is a priceless heirloom, fit to grace the arm of the Queen of Hibernia3.”
“You mean you stole it from the Queen of Hibernia.”
“Hrrmph!” Eyvindr cleared his throat, looking rather embarrassed beneath the shaggy mass of his beard. “You, ah-needn’t mention that bit to him.”
“Of course not.” Turning back to Vespasianus, Ricimer repeated, in Latin, an abridged version of Eyvindr’s spiel. He made sure to leave out all references to Hibernia and any queens thereof.
“It’s pretty enough, I’ll grant you,” the jeweler said when he had finished, taking out an amethyst-studded diadem and absently beginning to polish it. “But that sort of thing’s not the fashion here. I can only give you 500 sestercii4 for it.”
“He says he’ll pay 500 sestercii,” Ricimer repeated to Eyvindr, who was as close to dancing with impatience as someone of his bulk and imposing nature could be.
“Wha-five hundred?” the pirate captain sputtered furiously. “A mere five hundred sestercii for solid gold from the Queen of-well, be that as it may,” he cut himself off quickly, “but as Forseti5 looks down on this transaction I swear it is worth four-no, five times as much!”
Vespasianus looked nervously at the angry Eyvindr. “What did he say?” he asked Ricimer.
“He says it’s worth fifteen hundred,” Ricimer said. This was, of course, not true, but he was certain that the jeweler would have refused to listen to any higher proposal.
“Fifteen hundred sestercii for an old-fashioned piece like that? Never!”
“Well, twelve hundred then.”
“Eight hundred and not a quadrans6 more!”
“A thousand or-” Ricimer hoped this would not turn out to be a bluff “-or he’ll take the rest of the things elsewhere,” he finished with a meaningful glance at the sackful of pirate treasure which still rested temptingly on the counter.
“Very well,” Vespasianus conceded. “Just a minute.” He turned and entered the back room.
“So? So? How much did you get for it?”
“One thousand,” Ricimer said, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized that he had been holding.
“Just one thousand?”
“Well, you can hardly expect to get fair market value on stolen goods, can you?”
“No, I suppose not,” the pirate captain sighed, “but at least I don’t have to pay taxes on it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 7 is one of my favorites, I think. Eyvindr's lots of fun (and I know I said that before, it just bore saying again.)
Footnotes:
1. Aarhus is a port in Denmark, and the oldest city in Scandinavia. It still belongs several hundred years later than this time period, but I needed somewhere for the vikings (who also belong several hundred years later than this time period) to hang out.
2. Trier is a German city, founded in or before 16 BC. Gallia Belgica was a Roman province, covering Belgium, part of France, part of the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and part of Germany. Gallia Cisalpina was another Roman province, made of Northern Italy.
3. Ireland.
4. A Roman unit of currency. At this time, one could buy a loaf of bread for half a sestertius.
5. Forseti was the ancient Norse god of justice.
6. The quadrans was the smallest unit of Roman currency.
Chapter 6:
Njord, it seemed, did not feel like favoring Lofn the Fair with a good wind. It was evening on the tenth day when the helmsman finally sighted Ostia. Ricimer had never been happier to see something in his life-or so he thought at that moment. He had never had much liking for the sea, even on his few brief excursions into it, but had not mentioned anything of the sort to the pirates, for fear of offending them. Eyvindr the Black-Bearded was not the sort of person he felt it would be wise to offend.
Even though the dragon-ship was still some distance away, it was easy to tell that Ostia was a very large city. The stone warehouses on the waterfront grew larger and more imposing as Lofn the Fair approached, and a high guard-tower made Ricimer wonder if maybe this was not such a good idea after all-not that it had been a very good idea in the first place. But Eyvindr seemed sure of himself, and Ricimer still felt it would not be wise to offend him.
Lofn the Fair, as it was rowed into the harbor-Eyvindr only put his men to the oars when he needed more maneuverability-seemed quite small among the other merchant ships. Some were stately triremes with large, vivid blue eyes painted on their prows. These were from Grecia, bearing olive oil for wealthy Romans. Other ships were from Phoenicia and Carthage.
The docks were full of ships, and Eyvindr was tearing his beard by the time the helmsman finally found a spot, slipping Lofn the Fair into one space as a sleek Iberian ship pulled out. As a pair of crewmen secured the cable to a ring in the dock, Ricimer saw a Carthaginian ship float past, the captain shaking his fist at them and shouting furiously in Greek. Obviously he was having as much trouble finding an empty space as they had.
“Hmm. Rush hour’s never been like this in Aarhus1. Always a docking spot there somewhere.” Ricimer jumped, and turned to find Eyvindr the Black-Bearded standing at his shoulder. “So, what do you think of Roman cities?”
“It’s...big.” Even the dock area was overwhelming. The largest city-well, town-he had been to was Trier, and that only once before the tribe left Gallia Belgica upon the death of his father and subsequent threats to their territory by larger tribes. Gallia Cisalpina2 had no established settlements besides a few small villages which occasionally hosted markets. “But I don’t think I don’t like it,” he added quickly. He liked being where there were other people he wasn’t related to. As long as they weren’t shanghaiing him, or trying to marry him. That he could do without.
“Aye, it’s a busy place and no mistake, lad.” Beckoning Ricimer to follow, the pirate captain shouldered a bulging sack and descended the gangplank. Ricimer had to half-run to keep up. He could see gold glinting through worn patches in the rough weave of the sack.
“Where are we going?” Ricimer asked.
“To see if the merchants here are as crooked as the ones in Aarhus.”
Chapter 7:
Eyvindr the Black-Bearded was one of those very stubborn people who hate to ask for directions, so it took them almost an hour of walking through the narrow, dirty, labyrinthine streets to find a jeweler’s shop that would purchase with no questions asked (they were selling pirate loot, after all). Ricimer went in ahead of the pirate captain, pushing aside the leather curtain that hung across the doorway.
Inside, the shop of Vespasianus the jewel dealer did not look like a very reputable establishment. There was a thick layer of dust on everything, except the jewelry displayed on the counter, which looked as if it had been polished almost constantly. A few thick spiderwebs, also dust coated, clung tenaciously to one corner of the ceiling. All was lit poorly by a few oil lamps and a dirty window.
Vespasianus himself, who now emerged from a dingy room at the back of the store, did not look much better than his shop. He was a small, sharp-faced man, who was perhaps not old yet but certainly past middle age. “Well, what do you want?” he asked sharply. “Are you here to buy, or sell? If you’ve no mind for either then you’re not welcome here!”
In reply, Eyvindr swung the sack of booty off his shoulder and set it on the counter with a valuably metallic crash. Removing a golden armband set with pearls, he held it up to the light-such light as there was-and began eloquently touting its value and rich heritage in a paean of Gothic.
“That’s all very nice, I’m sure,” the jeweler said when Eyvindr the Black-Bearded had finished his infomercial, “but this transaction would go much better if I could understand what you just told me.”
The pirate captain also seemed to notice this problem, and Ricimer took the silence as an opportunity to speak. “You did bring me here to translate for you,” he pointed out.
“Aye, so I did. Here,” he tossed the armlet to Ricimer, who caught it gingerly. “Tell him this is a priceless heirloom, fit to grace the arm of the Queen of Hibernia3.”
“You mean you stole it from the Queen of Hibernia.”
“Hrrmph!” Eyvindr cleared his throat, looking rather embarrassed beneath the shaggy mass of his beard. “You, ah-needn’t mention that bit to him.”
“Of course not.” Turning back to Vespasianus, Ricimer repeated, in Latin, an abridged version of Eyvindr’s spiel. He made sure to leave out all references to Hibernia and any queens thereof.
“It’s pretty enough, I’ll grant you,” the jeweler said when he had finished, taking out an amethyst-studded diadem and absently beginning to polish it. “But that sort of thing’s not the fashion here. I can only give you 500 sestercii4 for it.”
“He says he’ll pay 500 sestercii,” Ricimer repeated to Eyvindr, who was as close to dancing with impatience as someone of his bulk and imposing nature could be.
“Wha-five hundred?” the pirate captain sputtered furiously. “A mere five hundred sestercii for solid gold from the Queen of-well, be that as it may,” he cut himself off quickly, “but as Forseti5 looks down on this transaction I swear it is worth four-no, five times as much!”
Vespasianus looked nervously at the angry Eyvindr. “What did he say?” he asked Ricimer.
“He says it’s worth fifteen hundred,” Ricimer said. This was, of course, not true, but he was certain that the jeweler would have refused to listen to any higher proposal.
“Fifteen hundred sestercii for an old-fashioned piece like that? Never!”
“Well, twelve hundred then.”
“Eight hundred and not a quadrans6 more!”
“A thousand or-” Ricimer hoped this would not turn out to be a bluff “-or he’ll take the rest of the things elsewhere,” he finished with a meaningful glance at the sackful of pirate treasure which still rested temptingly on the counter.
“Very well,” Vespasianus conceded. “Just a minute.” He turned and entered the back room.
“So? So? How much did you get for it?”
“One thousand,” Ricimer said, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized that he had been holding.
“Just one thousand?”
“Well, you can hardly expect to get fair market value on stolen goods, can you?”
“No, I suppose not,” the pirate captain sighed, “but at least I don’t have to pay taxes on it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 7 is one of my favorites, I think. Eyvindr's lots of fun (and I know I said that before, it just bore saying again.)
Footnotes:
1. Aarhus is a port in Denmark, and the oldest city in Scandinavia. It still belongs several hundred years later than this time period, but I needed somewhere for the vikings (who also belong several hundred years later than this time period) to hang out.
2. Trier is a German city, founded in or before 16 BC. Gallia Belgica was a Roman province, covering Belgium, part of France, part of the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and part of Germany. Gallia Cisalpina was another Roman province, made of Northern Italy.
3. Ireland.
4. A Roman unit of currency. At this time, one could buy a loaf of bread for half a sestertius.
5. Forseti was the ancient Norse god of justice.
6. The quadrans was the smallest unit of Roman currency.