Chapter One - Kearn Luff

He stood at the helm, steady legs planted on the deck. His hands clasped on the great wheel, turning her carefully into port. The men went to and fro performing many tasks but he was not stirred by their actions. His concentration lay solely with the job at hand. He felt the wind against his back, blowing slightly easterly, and peered carefully across the bow which now pointed toward the low fish yard at the west of the dock. Slowly she came about and as if by magic the stern came leeward bringing the ship alongside, a maneouver he had performed many times before. As the men on shore came within hailing distance he turned to the young man beside him and nodded for him to go about his business. The young man moved to the bow and released the mighty anchor into the harbour waters where it sank down into the depths, finally resting itself into the sea bed. The youngster shouted for the ship's hands to secure the fore and aft lines that were thrown ashore.
The Captain smiled at the young man, he had come a long way these past couple of years, an able seaman he was now a valued crewman amongst the experienced sailors. The gang planks were unshipped and the mooring ropes where tied to the dock, holding the ship steady. Had it really been thirty years? He wondered. So long since he had first walked upon her decks, the smell of the cut wood still strong in his nostrils. She had been a fine ship then, a princess amongst her kind and many had wanted entry to her crew. Her bounty had been opulent in those days but times had changed. He examined the center deck, slightly lower than the stern deck from which he was watched. A weeks stock, perhaps less. A good few tillers and many of the smaller stickma that was prevelant in these waters, but none of the great po-tails and orndykes that she had fetched up in those days. Nay, they had long since swam to new shores, the catch had become lighter and the fish smaller. There would barely be enough now to reimburse the crew and set aside a few coppers for himself.
There where ways to earn a better living, many captains would often cut short on his orignal promises to a crew, holding back profits for his own purse. But he was no sea dog, the long years had not hardened him to bonds of friendship and fairness. He would make do with that which he had and all would receive the share that they had been promised, it was the proper way, the same way they had agreed all those years ago. He never went back on his word.
He was not an unhappy man by nature, but at time he wondered ,had things been different, would today be just a little fairer for it? Manuo Caedron was his greatest of friends and companions, they had grown up together side by side in the Luff and followed their fathers into the trade. Manuo was a fine sailor, strong and true always ready to help his companions even though many of them were jealous of his talents. He rose quickly up the fishing ranks and got a good name for himself even outside the Luff. Happy years passed ,the town was rich in trade as any could hope to be, Manuo saved enough coinage to place down an offer on a new ship. Equal partners he made us, though my money was not half his, but equal we always were.
The Captain's thoughts were interrupted by the crew gathering around him.
'Captain,' said a burly sailor, 'the catch is loaded to the carts and she is moored at dock. We wish to return home, it's been a long sail. Is payment ready?'
The Captain looking at the half dozen faces around him, they looked old. He tried to employ a crew that he trusted, men that sailed with him time and again. It was safe this way, many fates could befall a man at sea and it was best to have friendly hands when those times came. He motioned for the young man who was standing looking out at the seas, 'Joseph' The captain called to him, 'Joseph, it is copper time, bring the purse lad.'
The tall lad stood in high black leather boots and leather leggins, a dirty cotton shirt was about his torso and at his neck hung a pendant with a picture of a mariner holding a trident carved upon it's face. His hair was dark black and his eyes brown and deep set, he looked once more upon the ocean before waking from his trance and acknowledging the captain. He climbed to his feet and traversed the short distance to the hut which stood at the end of the walkway. It was a small two man hut, woven reeds and mud, sufficient shelter in these parts and useful to keep the hot sun at bay. Upon its roofing a small sign was written in red, 'The Minter'. This post had existed for longer than he could remember, a precaution against those that would chance their luck. His father had told him that in past days, crews would mutiny against a captain, steal the copper and throw him overboard. So all payments were held before sailing at 'The Minters', he was employed by the town and paid a small fee for each holding. From this wage he employed three guards, one inside and two out. It was a good system and kept the opportunist away, although this was a problem more prevelant in larger towns, the Luff was just a village holding only five hundred who called it home.
He nodded to the guards and stood against the hut for an arms check. The taller guard began to examine his clothing, 'Evening to you Master Caedron, how was the catch?
'Not bad Rayme, not bad at all. Perhaps the seas are beginning to show us some knidness.' The boy had learned a long time ago it was not a good idea to show disappointment in a bounty. Fishing trade was crucial for the Luff as its main export, word would spread quickly through the town if things looked to be suffering.
The tall guard motioned him to enter the hut through the opening. It was cool inside, a candle burned on the desk that he stood in front of. The third guard stood slightly crouched due to the small roof, to one side and behind the desk sat the Minter.
'Name?' the man barked. He was dressed in leather tunic and trous and atop his head sat an oversized helm. The guards did not act as a deterent to all thieves it would seem.
The young man replied, 'The Dusk Returner, Captained by Pike and copper collected by Joseph' The man's long moustache twitched as he rummaged into the small chest by his side. He pulled out the coinage and placed it into a small pouch, in return Joseph gave him the seal that he had recieved when the copper had been deposited prior to sailing.
Joseph nodded and smiled at the nervous man, 'Fair day to you Minter, I take your leave until our next meeting.' The young man ran from the tent, he was looking foward to going home now, two weeks had passed slowly and he wished to see his mother.
He ran up to the Captain and tossed him the small pouch, if there was enough left over, perhaps he could buy the girl a small gift. A token of his....friendship. No, he thought, shaking his head, perhaps not, somehow he did not think she would appreciate that.
Once all the crew had been paid and departed for home the Captain turned to Joseph and placed twelve copper in his palm, 'There you go Joseph, a little extra for you and Goodwoman Caedron.'
Joseph shook his head, 'It's not right Captain Pike, the others would be mightly angered if they knew I got more. I would'nt feel right.' He offered back the extra two coins.
'My boy,' Pike reposted, hands on hips, 'You will take the copper for service. The sailing be ten and one for each trip to the minter. Few men would I trust with that task Joseph. The older man sat down on the dock and dangled his stocky legs over the side, so that his boots touched the tops of the water, leaving a brief trace of their prescence.
'I promised your father long ago Joseph, that if anything ever happened I would look after you. You are man now Joseph and as a able a sailor as was your father, you do not need my help anymore, my time is drawing near. I wish that I had children and wife, but that time never seemed to come. I watched you grow up and I thought for a time that would be enough, I have tried to be the man your father was, but I will never be him.'
Joseph leant down and crouched behind Pike holding his shoulders, 'You have been as any father would have been these past six years Pike. My mother and I owe you everything, few men would have made the sacrifice you made.'
Custom was a strange thing but it ruled the Luff with as strong an arm as any monarch or council. When a man died in partnership, all his possesions in work passed not to his wife or young child but directly to whomever the contract had been sealed with. Pike had been passed the Dusk Returner and he could have been a well-off sailor. At that time many woman of the village had flocked to his side hoping to wed, but Pike had not tarried with them long. He could not actually give back the share so he employed Joseph at only eleven years to his crew. He had him run errands and do small jobs and in return paid him a crewman's wage. Much outrage had been caused in the village but Pike had stayed firm with all that he promised his friend. In truth Pike would have taken Goodwoman Caedron as his wife to seal the future and protect her from idle tongues but she would not have it so. She had often thanked him for all he had done but held the thoughts of her husband too deeply in her heart to take another.
'Pike. I tell me again of my father's final voyage, there are still questions I wish to ask you. Will you tell it once more?'
Manuo was a good and honest man but he would not have his son brooding so long over his demise, Pike thought to himself. He had recounted the tale many times over the years, how they had drifted out from the waters of the bay under a heavy storm and found themselves in the Great Seas themselves. Few had returned from such a journey but Manuo would have, had it not been for a monstrous serpent that had attacked the boat. He had held the mighty creature at bay while he ordered Pike to crew them back into calmer waters. At the last he had fallen, the beast mawl knocking him limp from the vessel and into the waters. There had been no way to save him and no chance to search the icy depths. The memory was not a pleasent one even years hence.
'Not tonight Joseph, for I tire and would have by bed as soon as we finish at market. Perhaps tomorrow, now lad let us depart and ensure they do not ruin all our fish!'
The pair rose and left the docks as the sun set upon the waters. They followed the track into the village passing the huts that lined the way. It was quiet now and the children had been called in for supper so they hastened on to the market which lay at the centre of Kearn Luff.
On reaching the stalls they saw the carts being unloaded and packed in crates lined with sea-water mud to keep them fresh. The loads had to depart before night was ended to ensure they reached there destination for tomorrow's buyers.
Pike walked over to a stout man, dressed in a white apron sullied with grime from a hard days toil, a fiendishly sharp filleting knife dangled by a thong around his waist. 'Good evening to you Comlay, how goes the preperation for departure?'
The mans cheeks puffed out as he spoke, 'Yes, all is well. My men have the bounty almost packed we should load the caravans before midnight and reach the town by dawn. Now old sailor leave a poor market man to his work and get ye off home.'
Pike smiled at Comlay, he was an honest worker and he gave a fair price for the catch. It was not an easy trade as it had once been, the smaller bounty's and caravans being raided on the road had left him with a difficult position. He would pay half the copper on departure to the Captain of the catch and half if his men returned safely with payment from the town. Vagabonds and curs roamed the land in these times and such deliveries were easy prey to them.
Comlay, drew a purse from his apron and passed it to Pike who tucked in into his belt.
'Forty five coppers now as is agreed and the same on the morrow if all goes well. I bid you goodnight Captain and to you Master Caedron.'
Joseph smiled at Comlay and turned with Pike to depart the market.
'I fear Joseph, there is scant enough to start the repairs we spoke of. The price of boards has risen again from Tantagel due to the accursed raidings. She will not last many more trips without them and I would not risk a crew with an unfit vessel. I am unsure what is to be done.' The older man's head dropped slightly, the spring in his step lessened as his thoughts turned to the problem.
Wood was in scant supply through all of Vedain, no tree that was harvestable grew in these lands, the dirtwood trees which had grown in Vedian since time immemorial got there name from the carpenter's opinion of the heavily knotted, hard and brittle wood. Supply could only be reached by boat onto the mainland forests, where great trees grew in abundance, but it was a long and perilous trip to journey on barge and only few experienced sailors knew the course through the Straights Of Reslin. Prices had always been high but the caravan raids of late had increased, pushing the cost higher still.
"Worry not." Joseph turned to Pike, patting him on the back, "A way will surely present itself to us. The Dusk Returner will not sail her final voyage this year."
They walked from the market heading south to the edge of the village, passing the Mariner's Retreat, the local tavern which served as a friendly meeting place for many of the local folk in the long evenings. It was a large wooden structure, one of the few in the village, the tavern master was a well respected man in the village and sat on the governing assembly that watched over the Luff's day-to-day activities. A few people wandered up the track, nodding politely to the pair, some shouted briefly asking for information on the catch. Pike always answered the same, "A fair bounty," he would say, "worse and better but fair enough for this journey."
Finally they came to a row of small huts that marked the edge of the village border, the lights shone from his home and Joseph motioned to invite the old sailor inside.
"Perhaps just a quick drink," Pike replied, "just to reassure your mother I have not abandoned you."
Joseph smiled to himself, he knew that Pike was fond of his mother and harboued him no ill-will for such thoughts. He knew that a union would be of great help to her in later years and had often asked her to take Pike up on his offer of marriage.
They entered the hut, his mother sat upon a large stone seat, it was covered in bright fabrics woven by her own hand. She smiled as she saw him enter and rose to greet him.
"I heard from one of the children that you had returned, it is good to see you safe Joseph." She turned to Pike, "Has he behaved himself and worked hard?"
Joseph snorted, "Mother! I am not a boy. I crew as hard as any man."
The old sailor smiled at the woman, "He has worked well and I am pleased to accompany him to you safely Goodwoman Caedron. It does my heart good to see you in fair health."
"As seeing you does mine Pike. Now sit I have prepared a broth to warm you through, it must be an age since you have had a good meal inside you both."
The men did not take long to wolf down the hearty meal and chatted with Joseph's mother, telling her of the trip and asking of events in the village since their departure.
"I would say this", she interjected over Pike's long tale of the voyage, "more strangers are travelling through the Luff of late. I have heard that men in the village have taken to carrying arms as a precausion against theivery. It is a poor state of affairs, they say these men come from Tantagel where lawlessness is rife. I for one would wish they stay there."
Pike nodded, "Aye, tis a sad state of things when a man must carry dagger or staff to protect what he has worked for. Have the assembly made any comment on the matter?"
"No. I think they see more guards as just a further cost to them. There is a meeting tomorrow in the tavern apparently, perhaps something will be said then. Perhaps they will try to petition the duke for more patrols."
They washed the meal down with two large mugs of ale, shortly after Pike thanked Joseph's mother for her hospitality and departed for his home.
He turned as he walked to the opening of the hut and smiled, "Do not forget my offer GoodwomanCaedron, it still stands."
She smiled at Pike, "I have no forgotten friend Pike, perhaps one day you will not ask and I will rue what I have missed, but for now I am of similar mind as I have been. My thanks you have for ever though if that be some conselation to you."
"It is." He replied sofly and left.
Joseph retired to his room, a small mattress of feathers laid upon the floor. He thought of Pike's words concerning the repairs and lay thinking of how he could raise the coins needed for such a venture. His final thoughts before sleep took him, were of the serpent. I will have me that creature one day, he thought, I will avenge my father's memory and bring its hide to the Luff for all to see.
He woke late in the morning, sailors sleep patterns being dictated more often by the duty of watch than daylight, sometimes it took a whole week to get back to the normal village routine. The children were playing outside the huts, chasing each other around the grasses. He dressed in his leather leggings and put on the clean cotton shirt his mother had laid out for him.
Yawning and stretching, he blinked his eyes venturing into the morning sunlight, it was a hot day as most of the them were in North Vedian. He walked around the back of his home, avoiding the children running past him and knocked on the hut at the rear.
"Come in." a familiar voice echoed out from the inside.
Joseph entered the hut, very similar in style to his own home, the stone chairs and table, walls adorned with tapestries and triangular openings to allow light to enter with hide flaps pinned above in case the rains came. A small lad, sat in the chair at the far wall, his back to Joseph. He was reading a large book, which was remarkable in that manuscripts were rare. Joseph supposed it was possible this was the only book within forty miles.
"Good day to you Master Lucent," Joseph said to the lad, "how do I find you today?"
The young man, placed his book down on the table and stood up, turning to face the visitor. "You find me waiting Joseph. Your mother said you were asleep, I thought you had lapsed into a coma! The middle of the day is nearly upon us." The young man, moved towards Joseph and grasped by the forearms. "I have missed you Joseph, it has seemed like an age. You must tell me all of your tale and I will share a few of mine that you my find interesting."
'That we will Speck, but come, let us venture out into the light and leave your book behind. We do not want unfriendly eyes upon us today.'
The youths walked outside and sat on the lush grass. They had been friends since forever, sharing in many adventures as boys do when they are young. Speck looked up to Joseph like brother, he was all that Speck was not. Strong, reliable, generous to all. As they had grown older Speck had stood out in the village but Joseph had always protected him against the others who would bully him and call him names. It was i nfact one particulary unpleasent lad that had christened him 'Speck', his real name was Symeon, but only his mother called him that now. Joseph had given the boy a black eye and sent him home in tears, yet the name had stuck. He was a small boy in height and stature but he had other talents that emerged as he had got older. The one that stood out was his ability to read, he had never been tutored, as few were, but he read and wrote as if he had sat in classes for years. This in itself made him unpopular to adults and children alike, the younger men envied his talent and the adults were somewhat fearful of the way he had acquired it. His father had died before his birth at sea like Joseph's, but he knew little of him and his mother had to be hard pressed before she mentioned his name. She also had never remarryed but, unlike the Goodwoman Caedron, did not have a patron to help her son. So she made a livelihood by travelling from the Luff to Tantagel purchasing various unusual items for the kitchen at the large market there and selling them at the Luff.
She was not popular to men or women in the village, by tradition women did not work for keep, if such a tragedy occured that they became widowed they would be expected to marry swiftly to ensure a future for their children. It was true of all women considered in their prime, only the elder women would be cared for by their children, or if there were no offspring, by the assembly. Yet Speck's mother would not remarry and so set about her tasks to ensure her son was cared for. Joseph's mother would help her at times, as they to had become friends over the years, she would assist preparing herbs and spices that had been brought back from Tantagel.
Speck despite his size, was constantly trying to prove himself to Joseph as a fighter. He would pick fights with boys twice his weight just to try and persuade his friend that he was not a coward. Often he would come home battered and bruised when Joseph was at sea and unable to protect him, but it never stopped him. The boy had a fire inside him that Joseph could not understand. He was fascinated by the boy, with his gold curling locks of hair and staring green eyes. He too was a little concerned of the lads exceptional gift with the books but unlike others it didn't frighten him. His friendship meant more than anything else, as it had to his father and Pike before.
"I saw that girl, yesterday," Speck said, half smiling, "at market, when I was fetching vegtables for the table."
"What girl?" Joseph tried to be dismissive but turned so as not to make eye contact with his friend.
Speck laughed, "You know full well which one. The scully who lives there, the one you keep trying to impress with your tales."
"I do no such thing!" Joseph protested, "I think she shows much interest in the affairs at sea, so I merely try to enlighten her further."
"Ha!", Speck snorted. "She is interested in nothing, she is a waif and a thief. I am sure I do not know why the village has not thrown her from its borders."
"You know fully well Speck. She is an orphan of the Luff, therefore she has right to live within its borders, even though she has no right to shelter or supplies. It is an outrage that a small child should be left to fend for herself because her parents are either dead or have abandoned her. We punish the wrong people Speck, our traditions bind us too tightly."
The small lad jumped to his feet, "Well I think the sea has soured your brains Joseph! You are almost beginning to think for yourself, what will become of you?" Speck laughed out loud then took one look at his friend and began to run. Joseph leapt up and raced after him, jumping upon his back and dragging him to the grass, where they fought like playful titans.
As Speck had Joseph pinned to the floor kneeling on both arms to keep him from moving a voice reached the young men from above. 'Well, well. Another brawl little Speck? And this time you seem to have the better of your opponent. What manner of man are you battling that has not the strength to raise himself against your will?" Both lads, stopped their contest and stood to see a handsome man, almost twice their age standing with hands resting on a long spear. He was of middle height and dressed in the light green garb of the master hunter's men.
Joseph smiled in recognition, "Arn! I thought it was you. How are you my friend? How has the hunt been? Where is your father, is he not with you?"
Speck sat down again, smarting at the mans ridicule. The huntsman, pushed his hand foward in a halting motion, "Hold on, hold on lad, one thing at time. I am fine and the hunts have been good since you departed last. My father is leading one now to the eastern plains." Arn turned to examine Speck sulking on the ground. "Come now little master, do not take my words so quickly to your heart."
Speck huffed but stayed and listened to the hunter. He had first met Arn six years ago through Joseph. He was much older,  though Speck could never make out his age on account of a timeless element to his face and Joseph looked up to him, he was skilled in the ways of animals and the hunt. His father was the master huntsman of the Luff. An important position, he was responsible for tracking prey and arranging hunts for the village men to gather food. It was as were most professions in the Luff, one that handed down from father to son. Arn was a skilled hunter but lacked the dedication and commmitment that his father required. Speck had often seen them arguing in the tavern at nights, Arn enjoyed practical jokes and his father thought this type of thing misplaced in such an important village role. The time was coming closer now when Arn would take the role of master hunstman for his own, his father was ageing and would retire soon to his wife and home. In truth, Speck liked the hunter, but he would never say so, he was amazed at the clear synergy the man had with animals, a true understanding, it was fascinating to him. Too often though had he teased Speck, though never with malice, it was just the way he was. A man that had or would not grow-up the villagers said. Yet for all the respect his office had within the viallge Speck could not think that there was something out of place with the man.  Externally he seemed all he should be, strong and capable as was his father, but a veil hung over the hunter that shrouded some other purpose, it perplexed  Speck but made Arn all ther more interesting for it.
Arn continued talking, "Have you heard. There was a fight in the tavern last night, with outsiders. Apparently they arrived late and began to cause trouble with Herm and Pudd the butchers boys."
"Ha! Those too have caused more trouble in this village then any strangers," Speck shouted, "they probably started on the visitors, it would be just like them."
"No Speck. It was the travellers, Old Man Talon saw them, he told me this morning and he is as honest as the day is young. Apparently so he says, they drew knifes on the butchers lads, gave them quite a fright and cleared the tavern a bit sharpish to. My father says that we must protect ourselves, we should carry arms to deal with such ruffians." Arn, held aloft his spear, is if to back-up his fathers words.
"You two should do the same, mark my words. There are more and more of these strangers coming up from the big towns like Tantagel. I could get you a dagger Speck and what about you Joseph what weapon do you wish?"
Joseph looked sheepishly at Arn, not wanting to disappoint the man, 'I..I do not wish to fight. So I do not think I will need a weapon. Brawling and fists are one thing, but this is different. He paused and looked again at the huntsman who he had such great respect for, 'Perhaps I will ask old Pike for a staff with a hook on that we use for gutting the big fish. That way it would be like carrying a useful item, but I could still turn it to my defense. What about that Arn?'
Arn smiled ruefuly, "That would do just fine my friend, I'm sure you will save many lives with your sailing stick. Now come on. The assembly is meeting later, lets go and query Old Man Talon again in the market and see if he knows what they are going to say."
The three young men, raced up the north track to the market, the tavern was quiet now as opening was not allowed outside evenings. On arrival at the market edge they were met with the bustle of many folk, some buying and others selling, some just looking to see what others were buying. It was a close type of village and many spent time concerning themselves with others business, however insignificant it might be.
The group pushed through the crowd who congregated round the many stalls that lined the market way.  Joseph eyed Comlay presenting a well sized Stickma, fresh from the catch to a warey purchaser.  He waved to the stout man, who paused his fervrent haggling routine to smile and shout plesentries to Joseph.  They pushed their way further through the crowd, passing the well stocked tanners, hides draped over the tall stone stall.  To the left Speck saw his mothers small stall being surrounded by a group of busy women, pushing and pulling each other in an effort to reach the front of a unregulated queue.  For all the traditional dislike of his mother's status in the village, it was becoming known to many that she had a nose for sound and rather fashionable ingredients and spices.  It was one thing to be traditional but another entirely to be unfashionable in a small village.  
Beyond the stalls a ring of villagers stood about a man standing on a small mound, at his side upon a small wooden stool, lay a fragment of leathery parchment.  The man was as round as he was long, dressed somewhat comically in leather briches and a bright red shirt which threatened to come apart at his stretching midrift.  Upon his head there was a hat of green, which leant conspicuously to the side.   If any had thought to smile or chuckle at the chubby mans appearence, the sight of his belt would have soon returned them to their senses.  
His belt was black leather and wide, at its centre a buckle hued from copper and representing a trident of the Luff.  This symbol was one only born by those of the assembly, only two other men in the history of the Luff had been given leave to wear the belt without being in active service to the village.  The first being The Mighty Kearn Baylak founder of the town and forger of the symbol and second, Senior Rayne a especially unusual man who had served upon the assembly for thirty years prior to retirement.  It was normally true that a member would only be granted two terms of 5 years, but Rayne had proved so popular  in the village, that they had begged him to contiune standing.  His early decisions to allow tavern opening in the village and reduce trade taxations to families who had at least three Luff generations may have had a partial effect in this matter.  Nonetheless the village had deemed that he should be allowed to wear his belt of office, even until the day he passed to the ground.
The symbol of the Luff was a mark of great respect even to those who appeared in such outlandish attire.  
Arn pushed to the front of the circle and turned to the other two following close behind, "Hey.  It's an auction and by the looks of the crowd an expensive one at that, let us see who bids."
Joseph turned to Speck and whispered, "I thought the assembly had decided to dispense with all auctions in favour of a fair distribution of commissions?"
"Your time at sea has left you behind events," Speck replied authoritvely,"that is only for commissions below the ten copper threshold.  Above that the old rules apply, although this is the first that has passed through the Luff in a good while."
The group quietened down as the fat man announced the beginning of the auction.
"The auction is open to all.  Let those who would bid for its commision, stand forth and present themselves before its contents are made available to all present."  Carefully shifting his weight, so as to not topple from the mound, the announcer beant to lift the parchment from its resting place.
In front of him five villagers moved foward to begin the bidding.  he nodded to each in turn and then unraveled the parchment and began to read its contents.
"The following commission is offered to the Luff by the University of Asten and its esteemed servant Asten Lamentor Low Lore Scriptor." Pausing to clear his throat from a low gurgle he continued. "To retrieve and bring unto Asten University a relic of the Bannermane site from the archeologist who holds it in his keeping.  The duty to be performed by no less than one and three party to ensure said items protection upon the road. Maximum payment rests in the assembly hands and I start the bidding at the threshhold of one hundred  and fifty coppers!"
Arn shouted at his companions, "Bannermane! Could you imagine a more exciting journey my young friends.  What secrets and tales lie upon that road I wonder."
"There is naught on that road but old skeletons and thieving rogues.  It would be a fool to take such a reckless journey.  The bandits would smell its delivery from a mile off.  I would not take such a trip for a thousand coppers."
The pace of the bidding began to pick up and the surrounding crowd began to grow excitied by its potential.  Two of the bidders had who had begun seperatly now stood offering one bid as was their right.  The price had dropped to one hundred coppers now and two other villagers had sat down to signify their exit from proceedings.  
The surrounding areas were not the lush and friendly fields they had once been, a trip through the hills to the old town and returning to Asten with an item of value was not a commission to be taken lightly.  The two men were waiting on a bid from the final opponent, who stood very silent seeming to contemplate the newest bid.
"Speck, Arn, look its her, its Febra!  I hardly recognised her, it has been too long that I have been abroad, has she not turned lovlier since last I laid eyes upon her my friends?"
The girl stood in tight briches and loose cotton shirt, her hair cut short and ragged was as dark as her eyes.  Thick bushy eyebrows sat oninously above them, scowling against the malicious sunlight.  
If that is beauty, then may they forever frame my face in the great City Of Pluris for all to marvell at its handsome features, thought Speck.  
It was true the girl, short and slightly bent, was not of classical looks or pedigree even in the Luff's eyes.  Yet deep within, a child like expression lay and a deep sense of loss which accosted her a feeling of protectiveness.  Not all men would perhaps save her for love but many would do the same for pity.  She was a curious creature, standing there slowly counting to herself, her fingers moving up and down as another ten coppers were accounted for.
Jospeh stood and starred, he did not see pity and felt none either. To him, a sailor of the Luff ,she was a girl of great beauty and strength and one that he had designs on, since the day he had first set eyes upon her.
"Eighty copper pieces!" the girl exclaimed, excitedly jumping up and down on the spot and pointing at the two men who would take her prize.
The men groaned and scoured at the girl, they huddled together whispering under hot breath.  The announcer motioned to the men, "The bid is upon you gentlemen.  Do I hear a lesser offer, or is the commission with this scully?" The final word was offered with little affection.  The villagers called orphans 'scullys'. Children who had lost parents to sea or sickness were left to fend for themselves under the eyes of the village.  While kept within the borders from which they born , no right did they have to food or shelter than that they could find themselves. It was a tradition of worthiness, those that could survive would do so and be reintegrated into village life, those that did not were products of unworthy parents, it was said.  Village realities were harsh but not without fairness.  Scullys often would turn to thieving at the market and many were known to the traders.  Yet, unless they were directly apprehended then no action would be taken against them, it was deemed fair under the traditional laws.  So a few such children survived the harsh conditions, sleeping rough under the canvassed protection of the market and feeding from its scraps.  As they grew older they often ran errands for traders or sometimes less scrupulous works.  
The two men finished their discussion and turned to face the announcer, shaking their heads. They relucantly sat down upon the ground and began to argue with one another over bidding tactics.
Febra walked towards the announcer and bowed then stretched out her thin arm to recieve the parchment.
The man observed the girl carefully and asked, "You have the companions the commission speaks of to fulfill its request?" A harsh smile crossed his thin lips.
The girl looked up at him, "I ave 'em fat man, now give me the words."
With a large huff then announcer passed the girl the parchemnt and five copper pieces, "Full payment at Asten on reciept. Non complience to be referred directly to the assembly for due consideration and punishment."
The girl nodded, snatched the parchment and wandered into the crowd smiling at Joseph as she left the scene.
Commissions were not a small consideration for any village.  They were important to realtions with larger and important officials from other locales.  The assembly would take a healthy percentage from all dealings and the commerce was an integral part of their funding. Subsequently any commissions not carried out to satisfaction of the offerer were looked on seriously by the assembly. Floggings or beatings were not unkown sentences to be dealt out on those not fulfiling their promises.
Speck turned to Joseph, "What companions could she possibly have, unless it is the rats under the butcher stall? She has taken leave of her wits, those few that she had left to her. What idle rabble will follow her on that foolhardy quest?"