Chapter Eight.
"Clams! Mussels! Get your clams here!" Her voice was hoarse from shouting and she tripped more than once as she rolled the rickety barrow along the port again.
She'd lost count of the number of times that hour alone she'd gone back and forth, back and forth. At first the sailors had humoured her and bought a cockle or two but now they ignored her shouts and calls, turning back to trading deals with customers who could be hers if they'd make a deal.
"Cockles and clams!" Cat of the Canals yelled, pushing through crowds with pointy elbows. The ports of Braavos were always bustling with life whether that be old or new, home returnees or fresh faces. She liked the Summer Islanders best, with their skin as dark as midnight with cloaks of rainbow feathers. She liked the Westrosi sailors too, and she sneaked behind them once or twice to hear muttered conversations about the Young Wolf and the Lannister's war. She was positively gleeful when she heard her brother had won the Crag.
"Oysters!" Cat hollered to disguise her wicked grin, dodging past them to roll her barrow down along the wharves.
The whore house was full today, and a woman named Merry because she was always Merry bought a dozen oysters yesterday when she'd called. Cat couldn't see her today as she went past, and instead turned down another alley. Gulls cried out in sharp calls, large wings flapping wildly as they followed her. Some of the bravest tried to steal some days, and those were the days Cat would long for a sword called Needle in her hands to skewer the bird that stole her goods. Cats followed her too, and Brusco would say when she returned with ten or more following that she was aptly named.
She could smell the sea in the air, the sharp tang at the back of her mouth and nostrils that reminded her of the Saltpans, of Westeros. The waves crashed back and forth below her as sat on the edge of the pier, snatching five minutes rest. The sea churned dark green and blue, the wind snagging and tugging at her hair that had grown out now. It reached her shoulders and obscured part of her view when the the weather was not so great. She hated that, and was counting down the days until she could leave her job as Cat for the last time and cut it.
"Clams, mussels, cockles and oysters." Cat sang childlishly under her breath, watching her feet clothed in the scrubbed shoes swing back and forth against the port edge.
She loved the freedom she now had, to wander this bizarre but entertaining city, talk to the countless inhabitants and learn their stories and skills. She was alive here in a place no one knew her real name, able to roam with not one soul thinking she looked like a horse-faced daughter of a long dead Northen Lord from Westeros. Jaqen knew her real name of course, but she hadn't seen him in twenty days, since her last visit to the House of Black and White when the sky was dark and no silver moon rose in the sky. She didn't know if Jaqen wandered the streets of Braavos in the day and they'd just not met, or if the Kindly Man was giving him jobs, or if he was giving the gift to someone.
"Clams, mussles, cockles and oysters." She mumbled in her best Braavosi, still amazed she was getting better. For a fleeting moment she thought of a sister with bright red hair and the shock on her face if she knew what Arya could not accomplish. She quickly faded, for Sansa had stuck with Joffrey and not even tried to escape Kings Landing like her.
Inevitably, even with her time spent in Braavos her thoughts would swirl back to the place she had left. Her nightly prayer was taken note of by the Kindly Man as well as Jaqen, but try as she might she couldn't think the thoughts out of her head. They were ingrained in her now, those names that came so natural as breathing to a nameless faceless girl.
Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, The Tickler and The Hound. Ser Gregor, Ser Amory, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei.
With a sigh she got back to work, rolling her cart once more along the narrow streets of the Free City. She tired less easily now, her legs were growing longer too and she could no longer pass for a boy. She'd seen some men sneak glances at her, one trader asked her outright how much for the clam between her legs, and she'd shouted back insults with flushed cheeks. She didn't want to look like a woman, preferred it when people treated her like a man. With most woman they were all fragile m'ladies and acted like the weeping maidens from Sansa's stories. No, Arya vowed when she was older she'd be like Visenya Targaryen. A warrior Queen with her dragon. Just like Arya had once been with her wolf Nymeria by her side. The thought made her sad for a second before she rose her head up and straightened her back. The wolves blood was in her, her Father had said. But... could a faceless woman still have wolves blood? You can change a face but you can't change blood.
She pondered it for a while before she heard talk from a trader who had arrived from Pentos about dragons, real dragons owned by Danereys Targaryen who was only a few years ago. She fantasied that wildly, she could imagine the dragons swooping down and burning Joffrey's army and when Joffrey was running away terrified she'd be there with Jaqen by her side and she'd kill him, driving Needle into his heart while Nymeria dispatched of Cersei and Jaqen watched with approval. Her body tingled in delight at the thought, fingers itching to have that slim sword between her fingers to practise.
A shadow fell over her and she realised too late she'd been daydreaming, not at all doing her task.
"Clams, cockles..."
Her voice trailed off as she looked up at the man, and one hand planted firmly on her hip.
"Where have you been?"
"A man had duties that did not involve you." He shrugged. "May a man have a clam?"
"You have to pay." She warned him and he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"Do you think I am a petty thief?"
He tossed her a golden dragon and she stared at him.
"That's too much."
"I know." He shrugged and inspected the clams closely before picking the biggest, and Cat slipped the golden dragon into her purse protectively.
He still had the curly mop of black hair, and she wondered why he hadn't changed his face if people could recognise him. She knew if she asked him he'd give her that nonsense about there being stuff she did not know about. Stuff that lead to lots of arguments and discussions between him and the Kindly Man who she was beginning to dislike. She liked being Cat that is true, but Cats have claws and she wanted to kill someone.
"Why are you out here anyway?"
"I have a surprise, but inquisitive girls will not know. Not now or ever if they are not careful."
Cat glowered at him but said nothing, walking past him.
"Cockles! Oysters! Clams!"
A buyer wandered up, but Jaqen still stayed by her side hovering.
"What's your book about?" She asked off-offhandedly.
"Pardon?" Jaqen looked taken aback and for a fierce hot second glowing smugness warmed Cat's belly. She'd actually caught him off guard, sneaking around him like he had her for so long.
"The book you're reading in the temple. It looks old. Is it about dragons? I heard someone earlier on-"
Jaqen tugged her down the nearest alley to Cat's protests, and Cat glowered at him angrily when he let her go.
"A girl guesses too much and sees too much. She is stupid."
"You're stupid." Cat flung back. "And I thought we told each other everything."
Jaqen sighed, stepping back and running a hand through his hair irritated. "And I have told a girl time and time again I cannot tell you. Why do you push this?"
He stared at her, and when she didn't answer he stepped forward and gently lifted her chin up so her gaze met his. Unwashed hair fell into her eyes and he brushed it away carelessly.
Because I thought we were a pack you and I, I thought after all our travelling we would be together for everything. You said you would train me and so far you have left me to struggle on my own.
She shrugged. "I just wanted to know, that's all."
He couldn't tell her lie, and she tried to hide the victory inside her by biting her bottom lip softly.
"What do you know about the dragons?" He asked, eyes intense. He was still holding her face, cradling it, and she swallowed thickly, put off by his nearness, his fingers on her skin. It made her stiffen ready for attack, the slim cold knife stuffed up her sleeve in the back of her mind in case he wanted to test her.
"I heard a trader talking about them. He'd been to Pentos a while ago and seen three dragons. Green and silver and black. They were only babies but they must be bigger now. Do you think that Daenerys will ride one?" Cat's eyes widened hopefully. "She can take the throne from Joffrey and help by brother-"
"You have no brother. You are Cat of the Canals now." Jaqen snapped at her, and Arya stared at him in surprise.
"Sorry." He apologized. "I just- I need to go find out these tales for my self." With a frown he stalked off and Arya shook her head in annoyance before picking up her abandoned barrow.
Whatever the Kindly Man was making Jaqen do was not good, and it had something to do with the Citadel and dragons and maybe Daenerys Targaryen.
But like Cat cared. Cat was perfectly happy with her barrow of seafood. She stalked back to Talea and Brea that night, and when they asked what was wrong and she didn't reply Brea seemed to think it was a boy.
"I don't like anyone." Cat growled, huddling onto the boat as they set off down the canal.
"You do!" Talea sang. "You look just like Brea does when she's had an argument with her roof boy!"
"Shhshh!" Brea scolded as the boat rocked. "I do not look like that!"
"You do too! Who is he Cat?"
"Nobody." Cat said firmly. "Someone just annoyed me, that's all."
"Why?"
"He was speaking in riddles and telling me only half of a story."
"So it is a boy." Talea crooned, twisting a lock of lank brown hair around her finger with a satisfied smile.
"All men are like that." Brea comforted her with a pat on the arm.
"I don't-"
The two sisters shared a meaningful look.
"I don't!" Cat snapped. "He's stupid and annoying and mean and I thought we were friends but we're obviously not." Tears stung her eyes to her embarassment.
"What did you disagree over?"
"You wouldn't understand. I don't understand." Cat sighed grumpily and propped her chin up with her arm resting on the brow of the boat. Hopefully Jaqen would tell her soon, and if not well, she'll find out herself when she steals his very interesting book.
