Raul smiled a lazy smile. He breathed in the dusty air of the city, rolling around the scent of blooming flowers in his mouth, and burrowed deeper into his pillow, determined not to wake up just yet. The slender shape at his side stirred and Elise poked her head out from underneath the covers, nestling her head on Raul's chest. Raul stretched an arm around her and she made a small, content sound in her throat. Her dark hair splayed on Raul's bare chest, and tickled when she moved closer. Raul gave a quiet chuckle and Elise turned her big, green eyes on him questioningly.
”Just thinking how lucky I am,” Raul whispered, stroking her hair.
Elise grinned and swatted him playfully. ”Idiot.”
Raul tried to fake a surprised expression, but ended up grinning back. Elise had such a contagious smile. He pushed her down and kissed her deeply. She kept on grinning. Raul waggled his tongue at her, causing her to giggle. He leaned back down, but Elise pushed him back gently, laughing at his expression.
”You should leave before padre comes back.”
Raul let his lower lip droop. ”Do I have to?”
”You know he'd throw a fit if he saw us like this. He's so overprotective it's annoying. I mean, we're adults for crying outloud! Nineteen summers I have spent under his close scrutiny, not allowed to go anywhere without his consent! I swear he doesn't want me to ever marry. In fact-”
Raul held a finger to her lips to shush her. ”Yes, yes, star-gaze. I know. I'll leave in just a moment, it's not even that late yet. He shouldn't be home for some time. Now lay still and let me rest my eyes for a while,” he said with a smile.
Elise willingly settled down half on top of him. They lay there unmoving for a moment, before Elise broke the warm silence.
”Star-gaze? That's new,” she teased.
”Well, I am a bit ashamed of using it, as it doesn't really do you justice. Though the stars are proud to carry your name,” Raul replied.
A sly smile brightened her face. ”Oh, are they now?”
”They are indeed. They told me so just the other night, and, believe it or not, they actually came up with 'star-gaze', not me,” Raul managed to say with a straight face.
”My, my, did they now? I am speechless to say the least!” Elise's expression was one of so pure shock it had to be fake. Raul saw the faint blush on her cheeks though, despite her best efforts to conceal it. He smiled.
”You better be.”
”Oh, I am, most truly!”
”Bene," Raul chuckled, "but as it seems I won't be getting any more rest, I think I'll make the smart move and not leave at the last moment and scramble down the window like last time." He sat up and pulled on his breeches.
Elise laughed at the memory and nodded. She sat up in the bed and stretched luxuriously, enjoying the promise of warmth in the day's air. She caught Raul looking at her and stuck her tongue out at him, pulling her shift closer around her body, which invited a rougish grin from Raul. He walked to the basin at the other end of the room, past Elise's stout writing desk and the exaggerated painting of her grandfather, and splashed water onto his face, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
He looked up at Elise's personal mirror and met his own dark eyes in the reflection. They betrayed their sleepiness, but a keen intellect swam underneath in the depths of his eyes. He didn't like his nose, though; it seemed too big for his face and it annoyed him to no end. His friends amused themselves to no end by joking about it, as they saw how guarded Raul was about the matter, especially Ceville, whom he had known since childhood. His current favorite had to be 'fly-catcher'.
The bright red hair that was inheritant in his family was in complete disarray, as per usual. Red hair was such an unusual sight in Campania that it had earned his family the surname Rossi, which served to amuse many new aquantainces. Raul ruffled it around ruefully and grinned at his reflection. Not too shabby.
Elise's arms snaked around him and he laid his hands on top of hers automatically.
”It's a shame we have to steal time to be together. I'd just want to be able to be with you whenever I want to. Is that too much to ask?” She sighed into his back.
Raul lifted her hands to his lips before turning around and meeting her helpless gaze.
”It seems it is, for now at least. I, for one, am grateful for even the short times we get to spend together,” he said, winning a small smile from Elise.
Just then there was a thump downstairs as the front door was closed. A grunt echoed up the stairs as a pair of heavy footfalls ventured further into the building.
”Elise? Are you home?” a gruff voice called out in English.
Elise met Raul's eyes in panic.
”Elise?” her father called again.
Raul nudged her and she shouted down, in English: ”Yes, father. I'm in my room!”
Raul broke their embrace and hurriedly gathered up his shirt, pulling on his boots at the same time. He pulled the shirt over his head and Elise helped him tie the linen chords at the chest. Raul threw his green doublet over his shoulder and retrieved his feathered cap from a bed post. He scanned the room once, to make sure he wasn't missing something, before sweeping Elise off her feet and kissing her.
”It seems I must take the improvised route down again. I'll try to be as discreet as possible,” he promised as soon as he broke the kiss. They could hear John Curtis climbing up the stairs. Raul stepped through the open window and clambered out onto the roof.
”Try not to fall, alright?”
”I'll do my best. 'Till we meet again,” Raul winked and watched Elise close up the window and hurry to tidy her room for her father's inspection. He shrugged once, smiling, and moved to the far side of the roof, stepping lightly. The Curtis' neighbor's wife, Maria, raised her eyebrow at him from her perch on their balcony. Raul grinned at her and raised a finger to his lips. Maria gave him a knowing smile and a shooing motion.
Raul nodded and crept to the edge of the roof. It was a three-meter drop onto a paved road. He slid over the lip on his belly and hung on with one hand, the other still holding the doublet. Aiming for a pile of clothes a merchant had put out, he let go and plummeted through the air, landing hard enough to knock the air out of him. Raul scrambled onto his feet and fled the raised shouts from inside the shop. He ran a small way, through an alley and down a busy street, until he was sure no-one was chasing him. Then he slowed down to a casual walk, ignoring the sweat dripping down his back. He slung the doublet over his shoulder once more and strolled through the narrow walk-ways, calling greetings to people he knew. He turned a corner that he knew lead onto the main street.
The din of the streets was lively at this time in the day; everyone was getting ready for the hours of commerce. Merchants busied themselves by putting out new wares and re-polishing every tabletop for the umpteenth time. Some of them with the more exotic or otherwise more costly merchandise haggled with guards-for-hire, but the mercenaries knew that they could charge virtually any price from the paranoid merchants and would hardly budge from their set prices. Raul grinned; there was an occupation he had thought of getting into.
”How're the kids coming along, Antonio?” Raul called to a man in an apron, who was busy sweeping the floors of one of the multiple taverns - or at least he was trying to. A three-year old girl had latched herself onto his arm, while two boys ran around his legs, trying to smack each other with sticks.
Antonio glanced up through the open door and waved laughingly, leaning on his broom. ”Well, if it isn't Raul! They're just like I was at their age: wild, care-free, and non too familiar with manners. Come on in and have a cup, it'll do you wonders on a day this hot.”
”Maybe another time, I'm actually running late on an errand for my dear mother,” Raul lied smoothly. His stomach didn't really agree with ale in the morning. He side-stepped a man carrying what seemed like his wife's purchases, judging by the wavering tower cradled in his arms.
”Just be sure to drop by some time, I haven't had a single demanding chess match since you began spending all your free time with that English broad,” Antonio said with a meaningful look and a tap on the side of his nose. His dramatic gesture was interrupted by a little boy who took the opportunity to launch himself onto his father's back; Antonio grimaced in surprise.
Raul laughed and promised to come by and beat him around the chess table when he got the chance. He continued on down the street, whistling a light tune, the climbing sun warming his back.
Traveling merchants rarely had a shop to themselves, so they set up stalls on the sides of the streets. Bright reds and blues decorated their stalls, drawing the unwary eye to inspect their merchandise. The merchants' voices rose above the general commotion, hawking out their wares to anyone in the vicinity. Raul idly wandered from stall to stall, glancing over the peculiarities the enthusiastic street vendors had brought back from around the world.
There were exotic fruits from places as far away as France and even China, which lent their aroma to the wind. There were wondrous swords with many shiny gems, said to have been looted from castles of kings; these stalls always sported a ring of huge-eyed young boys, keenly listening to amazing stories of raids conducted with the sword in hand. There were more simple wares as well; carts were stacked high with clothes, meatpies and fishpies and chickenpies were all readily available to a hungry soul, gardening tools were piled next to stout hammers meant for smithing, needles of various sizes were displayed next to meters of yarn, and jewelery glinted in the bright light, catching the eye attractively.
One stallkeeper boasted to have brought his fresh fish all the way from England, keeping them from rotting with a mixture of salt and coal. Raul highly doubted that and personally thought the man had just burnt his fish and was trying to sell them off to some idiot. Against all odds, he actually seemed to be running a rather good business. Raul shook his head in contempt as an elderly woman bought four of the fish, which the stallkeeper assured her would increase her healthy days.
”What about you, young sir? Care for some fish oil to help with your lady-problems?” the stallkeeper asked him with a wink, his droopy moustache fluttering with the motion.
It took Raul a while to realize he was speaking to him. He looked up at the man with a blank face.
His voice was dry when he said, ”And what makes you think I've problems with ladies?”
The stallkeeper drywashed his hands nervously. ”N-nothing, sir. I didn't mean to presume anything, just trying to help. How about something else to better suit your needs, mayhaps a fishbone necklace for luck?”
Raul ignored the offer. ”Since when has fish oil, of all things, helped with women anyhow? It seems it would do nothing but drive them away, judging by the stink.”
Raul was gathering quite a crowd already; people were trying to get closer to see past the ones in the front rows. There weren't many things more despised than a false salesman and one could clearly read it from the faces of the bystanders.
”Well?” Raul prompted, as the stallkeeper's eyes darted from face to face, desperately seeking support but finding none in the impassive faces.
”Fish oil carries many healthy substances that improve muscle growth and general physique. And I'll stand by that firmly,” someone said with a slight French accent.
Everyone turned their heads to regard the new arrival who had spoken up. Raul looked too, eyeing the newcomer's dusty traveling clothes suspiciously. The burly man's lower face was covered by a scarf, presumably to fend off dust.
”Do you carry expertise in this matter, traveller? For I've spent quite a time working with fish, and have never heard of these... traits you named,” Raul challenged, turning to face him squarely.
To Raul's astonishment, the newcomer threw back his head and laughed heartily.
”Raul, my boy, you never change, do you? Always ready to stand by your argument 'till the end, be it bitter or sweet. In this matter, though, I do believe I outweigh you in expertise. It isn't by chance that people call me Poissonnier*,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling.
”Rémi? Is it really you?” Raul asked disbelievingly.
”Who else, you imbécil?” Rémi said, lowering the scarf.
Raul just stared at him. ”But... But, you weren't supposed to come back for at least a month. How come have you returned so early?” He frowned. ”Did something go wrong? What happened?”
Rémi winked at him. ”Nothing went wrong, I just got lucky and found what I was looking for faster than I had thought. That's all. I'll tell you in greater detail after we steer clear of this place, it's a bit too crowded, don't you think? But before we do that, we still have this problem to sort out,” he said, pointing at the stallkeeper who had been trying to sneak away. ”Even though I concede that fish oil can indeed technically attract females, I cannot and will not believe that any part of a fish can lengthen your given days.” Rémi's voice was sharp with accusation.
The merchant trembled under the fish merchant's gaze. He wasn't stupid; he knew when he had gone too far to get away. His hands found his apron, grasping it nervously.
”I didn't mean nothing by it. It's just that I've come along hard times and I've got respons-”
”Quit your whimpering,” Rémi cut in, ”You'll go seek out that lady you sold the fish to, and any others you may have scammed, and you return their money. All of it.” He turned to the crowd around him. ”If someone objects to these terms, do step up now.”
No-one moved or spoke; the fish merchant wielded authority with apparent ease, and the common folk were more than willing to leave the choice to him. Rémi nodded and turned back to the stallkeeper.
”Do you accept these terms? Or would you rather live out some of your days in a stone box?”
The stallkeeper hung his head. ”I accept.”
Rémi nodded once more. ”Good. Now we'll need a few volunteers to make sure he does indeed fulfill his terms. Does anyone have some time to spare?”
Three hands rose from the crowd, and at Rémi's bequest, hastened away with the unfortunate merchant. The crowd soon dispersed and Rémi and Raul were left standing as alone as they could be in a milling street.
Rémi slung an affectionate hand over Raul's shoulders and they started walking together, the stalls on either side forgotten.
”I've still got it,” Rémi said, grinning wildly, ”Did you see the poor man's expression? He was about three seconds from soiling himself.”
”I'd soil myself too if a giant Frenchman with your eyes would stare me down,” Raul laughed, ”I don't blame him at all. Besides, he knew he was in a corner. That's quite a spirit-dampener don't you think?”
”It's no excuse to cower though. A man faces down his opposition with dignity, even when giving up.”
”It's no surprise he wasn't that big on dignity. He was a fish merchant after all,” Raul said with an evil smile.
Rémi coughed to disguise his laugh as he pulled a serious face. ”Hah, you take that back this instant, young man! Or I'll be forced to invite you to a non-too-friendly duel.”
”Bring it, old timer.”
”As I recall, you haven't beaten this old timer once. Kind of pitiful in my opinion,” Rémi said, poking Raul in the chest.
Raul's retort was lost as a wildly charging goat forced them to jump for cover together with everyone else on the street. Raul banged his knee on the hard earth and bit back a curse. A grim-faced young man ran past a few seconds later, a jumble of rope in hand. As Raul peaked over the edge of the cart he had rolled behind, the man asked him, ”Did you see where it went?”
Before Raul could answer, the young man looked over his shoulder and sighted the trail of turned-over carts and smashed goods.
”Never mind,” he called back darkly and ran off, mumbling apologies as he went.
Raul stood up, trying to tease the dust out from underneath his shirt by fluttering the hem. People around him were busy muttering oaths and cursing the young man's lax hands. Personally, he didn't see the point in grumbling about something he had no power over, but who was he to judge others for their barbed words. Deeming that the dust was there to stay, he quit his attempt and retrieved his fallen doublet, grimacing at the torn fabric.
”Mother's going to gut me alive.”
Rémi was busy helping an older man to his feet, handing him his walking stick. He turned his head to regard Raul. ”Hmm? Could you run that by me again?”
Raul waggled a finger through one of the numerous holes on the shirt, courtesy of the rough ground. ”Mother. Me. Gutted.”
Rémi nodded somberly; he had been a target of Idrene Rossi's temper on numerous occasions. ”Let's stop by my place and see if we can get that fixed – to some extent. I should have a canvas needle and some string left in some drawers. It won't be pretty, but at least she might not notice it straight-away.”
”Grazie,” Raul said, sighing with gratitude. ”And you'll be able to fill me in on your journeys. I'm looking forward to hearing all you've been through.” A boyish hunger for adventure was manifested in the smile on his face.
”Sure, my lad,” the fish merchant said, then turned to the old man. ”There we go, now do take my stick too, I've no further use for it. Buona sera.”
”And a great evening to you too, friend. My most gracious thanks,” he croaked back and hubbled off in the opposite direction; Rémi signalled for Raul to follow him.
Raul stepped up to his side and mimicked his pace. For a while, neither talked; they were focused on avoiding stomping on spilled wares. The merchants were taking their frustrations out on apprentices and their raised voices worked as whips to drive the small boys and girls to gather their merchandise faster. Raul saw a fruit merchant busy stomping on his ruined wares, venting out his anger on the dirtied melons and pomegrates.
Of one thing he was completely sure, Raul did not want to be in the young man's shoes come the morrow. There would be a trial, in which all the merchants would largely exaggerate their losses and cry for justice in the form of gold. Then the convicted would plead innocent, which the judge would pretend not to hear. Finally, the trial would undoubtedly end with a long list of demands being handed to the convicted, due too soon for comfort. Raul spoke a silent prayer for the young man.
”Ah, it's been a while since I've last seen home,” Rémi said into the silence, ”and I can't wait to get to the cleaning; it'll be dirty as a Spanish whore in there. Let us hope for some miracle to have occured while I was gone.”
Raul glanced sideways at the Frenchman, weighing his next words. ”You know... It isn't too late to get a missus Poissonnier. I bet you that there would be a long line of candidates willing to cook and clean for you – among other things.”
When no answer came, Raul opened his mouth to repeat the question, but it died on his lips; Rémi still trudged on next to him, automatically skirting past objects, but his gaze was down and turned inwards. Raul looked him over in the eyes of a new aquantaince. Rémi looked to be somewhere in his late forties and was handsome in a rugged manner; his hair was black as jet, shoulder length and swept back off the brow; brown eyes stared at the world with surprising hardness - accentuated by the strong nose proudly jutting out beneath them - but were belied by his gentle mannerism, always ready to help a person in need.
Yes, many women would find him comely. Women appreciated a man who could take care of them, and Raul had never met anyone who could get things done with more haste or precision than Rémi Poissonnier. Despite all this, Rémi had never even seemed to take an interest in the opposite sex.
”Perhaps so,” Rémi cut through Raul's thoughts, eyes still downcast, ”but I couldn't stand living with someone permanently. I'm a traveler by heart and couldn't stay with a single person for so long.” He looked up at Raul with weary eyes that had seen too much, but shifted his gaze almost immediately. When he looked back, a grin had smoothed the lines on his face, leaving Raul wondering if he had merely imagined the man who had seemed older than his days. ”Besides, she would insist on re-arranging my stuff, and there's something I will never let anyone do.”
Raul barked out a laugh; the fish merchant's sense of ordered chaos was nigh legendary. ”You never change either, my good fellow, you never do indeed.”
”And let us pray it remains so; you just tell me if I start going senile and I'll pull on the reins – and quickly. Laughter lengthens your days, or so they claim.”
”I guess we'll just live forever then, don't you think?”
”I sure think so, my lad, I sure do.”
Spoiler! :
Gender:
Points: 914
Reviews: 129