Post by Lucios Numicios Khadad on Jun 12, 2012 8:48:41 GMT -5
Accalia Waterfront
"It will be ten folles to display your wares in the harbor forum."
Lucios Numicios Khadad, who had already paid seventy folles for harbor duty and an outrageous two miliarensis in excise, grumbled only a little before paying the squat forum attendant. "For that price, our stall ought to be leafed with gold," he said to his brother Gnaios, who only chuckled.
It wasn't, of course; an empty brick cell open on one side and barely large enough to fit the twenty amphorae Lucios had unloaded from the ship. That wouldn't be much of a problem, however; the harbor forum of Accalia was close enough to the waterfront that more wine could always offloaded if demand outstripped supply. As three slaves lugged the heavy amphorae from the wagon into the cell, Lucios and his brother Gnaios fell into their easy routine: setting up a folding tables and stools in the shade of the forum cell's awning, opening several smaller jars of wine and placing next to them tasting cups and a pitcher of ice water for mixing. When they were done, Lucios gave a boy a copper nummus and instructions to inform all the wine merchants in the city that Lucios Numicios Khadad had arrived.
After that it was only a matter of waiting. Some merchants, Lucios knew, hired hawkers or even musicians dressed as Bacchus to advertise their wares, but Lucios preferred the magic of his own name whispered into the right ears about town. "Khadad" had worked for his father, and now it worked for Lucios. Within an hour, his cell in the harbor forum had five or six potential buyers nosing about.
The morning passed quickly in a blur of sales. Most of his buyers were local wholesalers who sold to the city's countless winesinks and brothels, and Lucios was able to move most of his middling quality wine in less than two hours. The only break in the pattern came just before lunch, when a familiar man in a finely embroidered tunic stepped into the shade of the cell.
"Well, if it isn't Lucios the Ismaean!" roared Flavios Varros, the cornicularios to Accalia's propraetor. "I hear Ismaeans fuck camels; is that true?"
"And nowhere are the camels more satisfied than in Ismaea," Lucios replied with a low bow.
Flavios fixed him with a gimlet eye. "You fucked any camels, Lucios?"
Lucios looked horrified. "For shame, Flavios, to speak of your wife like that!"
The cornicularios blinked, and then his eyes widened as he got the joke. "You hateful little spit!" he said, laughing. "So what do you have to sell me this time?"
Lucios gestured to the table, and the two men sat down together as Gnaios poured a sample of wine into a tasting cup.
"The first one is a fine Pialeian, of which I have several amphorae ready to-"
Flavios spit the sample on the ground. "Used bathwater, more like. The Archaeans always put pine resin in their wines. Stop playing games, Lucios-- show me your best."
Lucios nodded to his brother, who opened another jar and carefully poured out two cups. "My best," Lucios explained. "A Falernian vintage."
The cornicularios took a small sip, then sighed with pleasure. "That's more like it. Falernian, you say?"
"A Falernian it is. Grown from the sweetest grapes, crushed under the delicate feet of the fairest young maidens, and carefully aged."
Flavios nodded slowly. "This will do for the propraetor and his guests. How much do you have?"
Lucios's ears perked up at the mention of the propraetor and his guests, but business beckoned. "It's a rare vintage -- very rare -- so I could part with six amphorae for... say... a solidus an amphorae."
"Robbery!" Flavios replied with a snort, and so the haggling began. In the end the Falernian sold for twelve miliarensis an amphorae, and with another round of insults the cornicularios paid his reckoning and departed.
Business slowed to a trickle after midday, and some time in the early afternoon Lucios left his brother to mind their wares while he followed the Via Borealis into the city. The day was warm and the street crowded, but Lucios knew his way around Accalia and soon the familiar dome of the city pantheon rose up ahead.
The building's entrance was nearly blocked by a small crowd, who stood gathered around a man standing on stool haranguing them in an angry voice. The man was dressed in blue robes, and as he drew in earshot Lucios could recognize the man for what he was: an Iesinorene arbiter.
"Listen to me, my children," the arbiter was shouting, and from his accent Lucios knew the man to be a fellow Ismaean. "But what are the misfortunes that have befallen if not the punishment of the One God? Through the fury of the Northmen He has punished us for our sinful ways and our worship of false gods, and He punishes still for our crimes!"
Standing below the arbiter were a pair of parabalani: tough-looking young men dressed in black with swords at their waist, who were scanning the crowd for potential trouble. One of them glowered at Lucios as he slipped past the listening crowd and into the pantheon.
The interior was dark and warm, the air heavy with the cloying aroma of incense. Lucios's eyelids instantly began to droop, but he forced himself to remain alert as he purchased several sticks of incense from a waiting acolyte and made his way across the echoing chamber. From their grottos in the pantheon walls the gods waited; a dozen or more deities eerily lit by the glow of torches and burning tapers. Some of them Lucios recognized: Iopiter, Sol Invictos, Iuno; while others were unfamiliar to him. Carefully he lit one stick of incense for Iopiter, the king of the gods; another one for Neptune for a safe voyage; and a third to Fortuna for a profitable venture.
One stick of incense remained, and Lucios turned to the grotto on the far side of the pantheon, where the image of a tall robed figure stood impassive and faceless. The One God. Taking a taper from a nearby sconce Lucios lit his last incense stick and placed carefully at the feat of the figure, making the sign of the sacri vulnera as he did so.
A hand fell lightly upon his shoulder, and Lucios turned to see that it was the arbiter from outside. "You are Iesinorene?"
Lucios nodded. "I am, arbiter."
The arbiter was a small man, with tawny skin and coarse features. He had heavily lashed brown eyes, which now gave Lucios a hard look. "But you honored other gods as well," he said reproachfully.
"I am also a cautious man," Lucios replied with a shrug.
The arbiter opened his mouth to speak, then paused as he recognized Lucios's accent. "You are Ismaean, also?"
"Tingitanaean," Lucios corrected, speaking this time in Ismaean. "From Phoedetis Novapolis."
"A Tingitanaean!" the man exclaimed in excitement. "It's been so long since I've spoken to a fellow countryman. I'm from Bovitatum," he explained, naming a large town some thirty miles south of Phoedetis Novapolis.
The arbiter's sudden pleasure was contagious. "We're almost neighbors," Lucios said with a smile, then extended his hand. "Lucios Numicios Khadad."
"Anastasios," replied the arbiter, shaking Lucios's hand.
Then Lucios surprised himself. "Would you do me the honor of my hospitality, arbiter? My stall is at the harbor forum."
The arbiter nodded slowly. "I would be delighted to," he replied, surprising Lucios for a second time. "I'll find you after evening prayers."
* * *
Itwas nearly dark when Lucios at last caught sight of Anastasios winding his way through the clutter of the harbor forum, trailed by the same two parabalani from earlier. Lucios, who had begun to doubt the arbiter would actually appear, now waved to catch their attention. Anastasios frowned as he peered into the recesses of the forum cell and caught sight of Lucios's remaining amphorae. "You are a merchant of sin?" he asked, "Selling wine to men so that they might addle their wits and forget God's judgment?"
Lucios shrugged. "In times like these, men turn to God or to drink. I tend my flock, arbiter, just as you tend yours."
He paused, bracing for a fiery rebuke from Anastasios, but instead the arbiter only laughed. "Well said, Lucios Khadad." He ruefully shook his head. "You would have made a good arbiter," he said, which Lucios assumed was meant as praise.
Anastasios accepted only a small cup of wine, heavily watered, while the two parabalani were nowhere near as abstemious. "So what is the news from home?" the arbiter asked after his first sip. "It's been four years since I left our country to return the Holy Word to this land."
"The same as it always is," Lucios replied, "Crops are harvested, wine pressed, daughters are married, children are born, and we grow older. Let the kings plot and squabble, but when I left our land was still at peace." From beside him, Gnaios nodded.
Anastasios sighed wistfully. "What a joy it would be to return."
"And the news here in Accalia?" Lucios pressed slightly, "I heard mention there were important guests in town."
"Ah yes, the Archaeans," scoffed the arbiter. "A most sinful people. Their leader is a pederast, if the stories are to be believed."
"Why are they here, do you know?"
"The rumors are that the Archaeans intend to seek an audience with the Empire," Anastasios replied, "Folk say the Phoenix-Commander himself will be in Accalia to meet with them."
"Phoenix-Commander Deraine? How interesting." Lucios satback on his stool and took another sip from his cup, his mind churning. He was a wine merchant, yes, but also a merchant of something with potentially far greater value: information. Collected rumors, the number of warships counted in a harbor, a drunken story told by an off-duty soldier -- Lucios knew certain men who paid good money for such things. He gave a small nod to Gnaios, who rose and unsealed a second jar of wine.
"Let's speak further, arbiter. More wine?"
"It will be ten folles to display your wares in the harbor forum."
Lucios Numicios Khadad, who had already paid seventy folles for harbor duty and an outrageous two miliarensis in excise, grumbled only a little before paying the squat forum attendant. "For that price, our stall ought to be leafed with gold," he said to his brother Gnaios, who only chuckled.
It wasn't, of course; an empty brick cell open on one side and barely large enough to fit the twenty amphorae Lucios had unloaded from the ship. That wouldn't be much of a problem, however; the harbor forum of Accalia was close enough to the waterfront that more wine could always offloaded if demand outstripped supply. As three slaves lugged the heavy amphorae from the wagon into the cell, Lucios and his brother Gnaios fell into their easy routine: setting up a folding tables and stools in the shade of the forum cell's awning, opening several smaller jars of wine and placing next to them tasting cups and a pitcher of ice water for mixing. When they were done, Lucios gave a boy a copper nummus and instructions to inform all the wine merchants in the city that Lucios Numicios Khadad had arrived.
After that it was only a matter of waiting. Some merchants, Lucios knew, hired hawkers or even musicians dressed as Bacchus to advertise their wares, but Lucios preferred the magic of his own name whispered into the right ears about town. "Khadad" had worked for his father, and now it worked for Lucios. Within an hour, his cell in the harbor forum had five or six potential buyers nosing about.
The morning passed quickly in a blur of sales. Most of his buyers were local wholesalers who sold to the city's countless winesinks and brothels, and Lucios was able to move most of his middling quality wine in less than two hours. The only break in the pattern came just before lunch, when a familiar man in a finely embroidered tunic stepped into the shade of the cell.
"Well, if it isn't Lucios the Ismaean!" roared Flavios Varros, the cornicularios to Accalia's propraetor. "I hear Ismaeans fuck camels; is that true?"
"And nowhere are the camels more satisfied than in Ismaea," Lucios replied with a low bow.
Flavios fixed him with a gimlet eye. "You fucked any camels, Lucios?"
Lucios looked horrified. "For shame, Flavios, to speak of your wife like that!"
The cornicularios blinked, and then his eyes widened as he got the joke. "You hateful little spit!" he said, laughing. "So what do you have to sell me this time?"
Lucios gestured to the table, and the two men sat down together as Gnaios poured a sample of wine into a tasting cup.
"The first one is a fine Pialeian, of which I have several amphorae ready to-"
Flavios spit the sample on the ground. "Used bathwater, more like. The Archaeans always put pine resin in their wines. Stop playing games, Lucios-- show me your best."
Lucios nodded to his brother, who opened another jar and carefully poured out two cups. "My best," Lucios explained. "A Falernian vintage."
The cornicularios took a small sip, then sighed with pleasure. "That's more like it. Falernian, you say?"
"A Falernian it is. Grown from the sweetest grapes, crushed under the delicate feet of the fairest young maidens, and carefully aged."
Flavios nodded slowly. "This will do for the propraetor and his guests. How much do you have?"
Lucios's ears perked up at the mention of the propraetor and his guests, but business beckoned. "It's a rare vintage -- very rare -- so I could part with six amphorae for... say... a solidus an amphorae."
"Robbery!" Flavios replied with a snort, and so the haggling began. In the end the Falernian sold for twelve miliarensis an amphorae, and with another round of insults the cornicularios paid his reckoning and departed.
Business slowed to a trickle after midday, and some time in the early afternoon Lucios left his brother to mind their wares while he followed the Via Borealis into the city. The day was warm and the street crowded, but Lucios knew his way around Accalia and soon the familiar dome of the city pantheon rose up ahead.
The building's entrance was nearly blocked by a small crowd, who stood gathered around a man standing on stool haranguing them in an angry voice. The man was dressed in blue robes, and as he drew in earshot Lucios could recognize the man for what he was: an Iesinorene arbiter.
"Listen to me, my children," the arbiter was shouting, and from his accent Lucios knew the man to be a fellow Ismaean. "But what are the misfortunes that have befallen if not the punishment of the One God? Through the fury of the Northmen He has punished us for our sinful ways and our worship of false gods, and He punishes still for our crimes!"
Standing below the arbiter were a pair of parabalani: tough-looking young men dressed in black with swords at their waist, who were scanning the crowd for potential trouble. One of them glowered at Lucios as he slipped past the listening crowd and into the pantheon.
The interior was dark and warm, the air heavy with the cloying aroma of incense. Lucios's eyelids instantly began to droop, but he forced himself to remain alert as he purchased several sticks of incense from a waiting acolyte and made his way across the echoing chamber. From their grottos in the pantheon walls the gods waited; a dozen or more deities eerily lit by the glow of torches and burning tapers. Some of them Lucios recognized: Iopiter, Sol Invictos, Iuno; while others were unfamiliar to him. Carefully he lit one stick of incense for Iopiter, the king of the gods; another one for Neptune for a safe voyage; and a third to Fortuna for a profitable venture.
One stick of incense remained, and Lucios turned to the grotto on the far side of the pantheon, where the image of a tall robed figure stood impassive and faceless. The One God. Taking a taper from a nearby sconce Lucios lit his last incense stick and placed carefully at the feat of the figure, making the sign of the sacri vulnera as he did so.
A hand fell lightly upon his shoulder, and Lucios turned to see that it was the arbiter from outside. "You are Iesinorene?"
Lucios nodded. "I am, arbiter."
The arbiter was a small man, with tawny skin and coarse features. He had heavily lashed brown eyes, which now gave Lucios a hard look. "But you honored other gods as well," he said reproachfully.
"I am also a cautious man," Lucios replied with a shrug.
The arbiter opened his mouth to speak, then paused as he recognized Lucios's accent. "You are Ismaean, also?"
"Tingitanaean," Lucios corrected, speaking this time in Ismaean. "From Phoedetis Novapolis."
"A Tingitanaean!" the man exclaimed in excitement. "It's been so long since I've spoken to a fellow countryman. I'm from Bovitatum," he explained, naming a large town some thirty miles south of Phoedetis Novapolis.
The arbiter's sudden pleasure was contagious. "We're almost neighbors," Lucios said with a smile, then extended his hand. "Lucios Numicios Khadad."
"Anastasios," replied the arbiter, shaking Lucios's hand.
Then Lucios surprised himself. "Would you do me the honor of my hospitality, arbiter? My stall is at the harbor forum."
The arbiter nodded slowly. "I would be delighted to," he replied, surprising Lucios for a second time. "I'll find you after evening prayers."
* * *
Itwas nearly dark when Lucios at last caught sight of Anastasios winding his way through the clutter of the harbor forum, trailed by the same two parabalani from earlier. Lucios, who had begun to doubt the arbiter would actually appear, now waved to catch their attention. Anastasios frowned as he peered into the recesses of the forum cell and caught sight of Lucios's remaining amphorae. "You are a merchant of sin?" he asked, "Selling wine to men so that they might addle their wits and forget God's judgment?"
Lucios shrugged. "In times like these, men turn to God or to drink. I tend my flock, arbiter, just as you tend yours."
He paused, bracing for a fiery rebuke from Anastasios, but instead the arbiter only laughed. "Well said, Lucios Khadad." He ruefully shook his head. "You would have made a good arbiter," he said, which Lucios assumed was meant as praise.
Anastasios accepted only a small cup of wine, heavily watered, while the two parabalani were nowhere near as abstemious. "So what is the news from home?" the arbiter asked after his first sip. "It's been four years since I left our country to return the Holy Word to this land."
"The same as it always is," Lucios replied, "Crops are harvested, wine pressed, daughters are married, children are born, and we grow older. Let the kings plot and squabble, but when I left our land was still at peace." From beside him, Gnaios nodded.
Anastasios sighed wistfully. "What a joy it would be to return."
"And the news here in Accalia?" Lucios pressed slightly, "I heard mention there were important guests in town."
"Ah yes, the Archaeans," scoffed the arbiter. "A most sinful people. Their leader is a pederast, if the stories are to be believed."
"Why are they here, do you know?"
"The rumors are that the Archaeans intend to seek an audience with the Empire," Anastasios replied, "Folk say the Phoenix-Commander himself will be in Accalia to meet with them."
"Phoenix-Commander Deraine? How interesting." Lucios satback on his stool and took another sip from his cup, his mind churning. He was a wine merchant, yes, but also a merchant of something with potentially far greater value: information. Collected rumors, the number of warships counted in a harbor, a drunken story told by an off-duty soldier -- Lucios knew certain men who paid good money for such things. He gave a small nod to Gnaios, who rose and unsealed a second jar of wine.
"Let's speak further, arbiter. More wine?"