Traveler Day 1
Bartido had decided that he really liked the inn at Sallah on the first day that he had ever stayed there. Waking up late in the soft bed that the innkeeper always provided in his regular room was what really drove home how pleasant it was. Bartido usually did not want to rise when he woke up on a day where he had no specific duties. But waking up in such a comfortable bed only happened when it was his own. Or in Sallah. At some point he should probably figure out what precisely it was about the beds that did that to him. Or if it was simply because he was more often than not 'off duty' when sleeping at home or in Sallah.
He did, eventually, rise for the day. He washed up and got himself into a very presentable state before leaving the room, but that apparently wasn't enough for Sal. "I guess we are not leaving today then, sir?" he said, barely a scant fingerswidth to Bartido's side.
"No, likely not," Bartido said, giving a winning smile to the bodyman. It never worked — and this time was no exception — but it was always worth a try. "You know how my cousin is. I can't really say how long it will take to actually have a pleasant conversation with the man."
"I don't know why you bother, sir," Sal said with his trademark sigh. "But if that's the case I'll tell the driver that he's free to do what he likes for the day. Half-pay sufficient?"
"Go with three-quarters," Bartido said. "If we stay longer I'll cut it further, but he's been great."
"Very well. Good luck, sir." And then Sal, without visibly changing his stride, sped up and headed off to the stables, leaving Bartido behind.
Sallah was a town about crossroads. The inn was right on the meeting of the two major roads. One plowed south through the forest, while the one that Bartido was traveling headed either east toward the capital or west to his home country. The result was a small town that grew up around the T shape that the major roads made, and there was plenty of space to walk on either side of both of the major roads if one wanted to. And Bartido did.
He strolled — for what was a break day in a trip without a good leisurely stroll? — down the southern major thoroughfare, glancing a bit at a couple of the shops that tried to trap tourists into their confines. Not a lick of Alchemy showed. There was a bit of Glamour in the plant shop right near the inn, though that was expected out here so far from the cities. Little else seemed to be something worth Bartido's time to peruse, but it was fun to see what kind of people owned what kind of shop. Or at least, what kind of people hawked what kind of shop.
No matter how much such hawkers noticed Bartido's attention, his stride did not falter in the slightest. He had a destination on this stroll and he did intend to both get there and make progress. He could do neither if he dawdled too much with the citizens of Sallah (though Bartido was sure that he would enjoy himself talking to a few of the younger female hawkers). And so while he gave out smiles like candy, he continued down the road until he reached the point where it was more houses than shops. And then he turned down one of the smaller lanes.
Not far in, he stepped up onto a porch and rapped his knuckles rapidly onto the sturdy wooden door that barred entry. "Go away!" was the immediate response.
Bartido chuckled. Then he rapped his knuckles on the door again. "I said, 'Go away!' Get out! I'm busy!"
"Too busy for your cousin?" Bartido asked in a voice designed to carry through the door to the only known occupant.
Then there was a growl. "I definitely don't want to see any traitorous—" he then used a string of words that implied Bartido had conjugal relations with a goat. And then something anatomically impossible with his mother.
"That's your aunt, you know," Bartido said mildly. It wasn't like he hadn't heard such things before.
The occupant cursed some more before falling silent. Bartido let the silence wax on for a few moments before finally trying again. "You know, I have spoken to your mother since the last time we met."
"We don't meet, you —" more insults "— you accost me when I am busy. Take the hint! I'm busy!" And then there was silence once more.
"Don't you want news of your mother?" Bartido asked. This time he was met with silence, so he pushed on. "I mean, she always desperately wants news of you. I'm not sure why she does considering how rude you are to guests. I mean, not everyone is as thick skinned as your cousin, but you'd think there'd be other people she could get her news from."
Dead silence continued from within. Bartido frowned. That was not a good sign for progress.
Rather than continue on that tack, Bartido tried talking about his own mother, then about various other relations of the two of them, but a stone wall of silence continued to meet him. After what had to be a good hour of this, Bartido sighed. It looked like Grot was going to try to fully ignore him once again. And that probably meant coming back later. And that would not sit well with Sal.
But, he was in fact here for a reason. Possibly a matter of life and death. And he was certainly going to make some progress before he headed back home this time — or so help him with his aunt — so if staying another day was what he had to do, staying another day was what he had to do.
On his way back through the main thoroughfare to the inn, he did stop to be sold to by the prettier of the hawkers. He only did give in with one of them — she was selling food, and he was hungry — but that happened to be one that completely ignored him once the sale was complete. Well done, considering there were other travelers to catch and it was nearing lunch. Bread would have the best chance of a good sale when it was sold near lunch, after all. Or dinner. But mostly lunch.
The mild disappointment of not being able to carry on his conversation with the pretty hawker left his mind entirely when the young woman he had spotted in the inn the previous night came across his path. Bartido's trademark smirk immediately returned as he hailed her. "My lady! What brings you to a town such as this?"
The young woman turned to him and sighed at him. Now that brought the nostalgia that he had sensed from her into full view. He had seen this young woman before. Now he just had to figure out where. "I don't really have time to deal with the likes of you right now," she said to him in a completely businesslike tone. "And I don't have the time to debate that point with you either. So don't try it." She then turned and kept walking in the direction that she had been: toward the Glamour shop near the inn that Bartido had noted earlier.
Intriguing — was she a mage that he had seen at some point at the capital in the course of his duties? Or weirder, could he have seen her at the Silver Star Tower before he had been exposed? She wasn't Lillet — there was only one Lillet and Bartido would have known the Mage Consul on sight. Her hair, face, and glasses were all wrong for Margarita, and Amoretta would have referred to him by name rather than use 'you'. Unless it was Opalneria, who Hiram had told him had de-aged herself recently, it wasn't anyone major from the Tower.
Bartido followed the young woman into the shop, who had immediately taken the attention of the other young woman inside. This one Bartido vaguely recognized as someone he had spotted in Sallah on previous visits. The two started a hushed and somewhat fraught conversation. Bartido was interested in what the two of them were talking about but… something about what he recognized about the first woman stopped him. Instead he caught the attention of the other shopkeeper — likely the owner, given her age — and asked a couple questions about the spellwork on the plants.
"Yes, My apprentice and I have both strengthened all of the herbs you see here," the old woman said, waving a hand out at the display. "Pretty much any herb you can name; we both have it and have strengthened it so the effects are stronger and last longer. Was there anything specific that you were looking for?"
Yes, but not in the way that she was asking. "No," Bartido said aloud. "I was only okay with Glamour when I learned it. I'm more of an Alchemist myself."
"Oh?" the old woman said. "I've known a few Alchemists in my time. Did you learn at the Magical Society or the Silver Star Tower?"
"The Tower," Bartido said, and he bowed. "Bartido Ballentyne, ambassador to the Crown, at your service."
"From the west, eh?" the old woman asked. "I may have heard of you before, but it is no matter. I am Astoria Waldorf, formerly of the Magical Society. Did you have any more questions about products, or were you hoping to wax on about magic?"
"Mostly the latter," Bartido said. Then he turned around to face the two others in the room, who were still having their hushed conversation. "I imagine you know that customer?"
Astoria blinked at the change in subject but didn't otherwise react. "That's Gertrude Silvaner; she's staying at the inn that I imagine you're staying at as well." The name did nothing for Bartido, so it was easy to prevent himself from letting out any reaction to it. "She has had an interest in my Amy today. I try not to bother Amy too much about her own affairs, but it's starting to get ridiculous. If you'll excuse me." Astoria stepped around Bartido with an agility that belied her age and strode right up to the two young women. Bartido couldn't see the face that she was making at them, but it made Amy pale and Gertrude look guilty. Another expression that Bartido thought he had seen before. But he didn't know her name at all.
Intriguing.
Gertrude was effectively kicked out after that, and Bartido hurried out after her, thanking Astoria for her time as quickly as politeness would allow. When he caught up to the young woman she spun on her heel and put a finger in Bartido's face, causing him to backpedal a step. "I still don't have time to deal with you, and I do not appreciate you stalking me."
"Not my intention; I—" Bartido began, but the clearly furious young woman was clearly having none of it.
"No! I will deal with you later," Gertrude said, her finger rock steadily pointing between Bartido's eyes. It was hard for him not to stare at it and let himself go cross-eyed. "Go back to the inn. Leave me alone." Then instantly she was walking away, leaving Bartido blinking behind her.
Sure, Sal wasn't going to be happy that they were going to be staying another day — he knew from experience that going back to Grot's house would merely receive more silence so he wasn't going to bother — but Bartido thought that there was more than enough in the town to entertain him while he attempted to finally get Grot to come home. For once in his life.
