Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (part 19)

She glanced at him, then awkwardly left, trying to decide what to do next.

The sun was starting to slip behind the buildings. It was still a ways off from the horizon, but dusk was falling quicker in the shadows of the inns and storefronts. That didn't stop the market's busy chatter, though.

Rana decided to wander amongst the booths for a bit, vaguely heading in the direction of their inn. Should she look for the man? What good would that do? She’d just look foolish. This was just a gimmick to scare her; she needed to wash her hands of it entirely.

The booths were selling pretty much everything one could imagine, from clothing to livestock to legal drugs. The Northern nomads were arguing with a seller of cured meats a little way down the line, snapping out harsh syllables and rolled r's as they stumbled over the seller's language, which appeared to be Salt. Salt was a common trade language many merchants used; most countries on the continents spoke some form of it, specifically the merchants and leaders. The Northerners, it seemed, had a very limited grasp on it.

She watched from a distance, weighing the costs versus benefits of interpreting for them. She felt like she could help. But she also felt like it wasn’t her business nor her problem. And she was more likely than anything to get herself in a mess with strange men if she tried to help. So instead she observed from a distance.

Both the buyers and the seller seemed to be getting increasingly frustrated with the miscommunication. One of the women in the northern group had stalked off to another booth and now stood looking at bags of rice with her arms crossed over her chest. One of the men was raising his voice, and people were beginning to stare. A couple Northern settlers were watching as well but made no move to assist.

Her conscience pricked her and she sighed. This was such a hassle. But, she supposed, better than going to her room. She approached and said in Upper Tongue, “hello. Is this your native tongue?” Glancing at the Northerners. They were shit out of luck if they spoke Nortung; she only knew a bit of that. But Upper Tongue she could help with.

The angry one kept talking at the seller, but one of the others, a bald man with a braided brown beard and face tattoos depicting a serpent turned to her with a small frown, brow furrowed. "I know it some," he said slowly. "We deal with the stonesetters at times."

“If it’s easier than the merchants’ language, I can help you communicate, if you would like. I know both… enough.”

"For me it is easier. For Thorvald..." He glanced toward the other man and sighed. "We will be in your debt if you assist. Thorvald. Thorvald!" He tapped the man's shoulder, and he whirled around with bared teeth. The bald man said something to him in Nortung.
Thorvald glowered down at Rana; he was a giant of a man with two bearded axes strapped to his back. His blonde hair was long and braided, as was his beard. He growled something in Nortung, and the bald man responded. Then Thorvald huffed and stepped aside, muttering something else.
"That." The bald man pointed at a slab of meat. "We want to know how much to buy all of it. He has a barrel, and we would like it."

Rana flinched at the outburst and tensed, but nodded when the man explained. She turned towards the merchant and said in Salt, “they want to know how much to buy your entire barrel of that meat.”

"They've made that fairly clear," the seller said, arms crossed. "I said I'm not selling it. That's Orthoan red deer venison--extremely expensive. They can't afford two pounds, let alone an entire barrel of it!"

“How do you know that?” Rana scoffed. “Aren’t you meant to be a merchant trying to sell his wares? Why not give a price — a fair price — and let them decide for themselves whether they can afford it or not.”

"The fair price is higher than they can afford," he said firmly, eyeing the nomads. "They've got gold, yes, but not enough. I guarantee that."
"What is he saying?" the bald man asked. Thorvald was pacing behind him.

Rana glanced at them, then back at the merchant. “And you know that, how, exactly?”