|
It was in one of the backyards of Ildritz, not far from the Kungsfelthan. A small court just off the narrow Black Urt Street, where boys hung out, bored, or kicking a ball around in the mud. "Sir," they begged, "Got a Kintus? I'll shine your shoes!" "Lady! I've got some nice flowers for the lady, a Kintus each!" But we came for other business. The business that could be smelled from streets away. And the goods on sale made themselves be heard. The salesman did his best to scream over the noise of his donkeys: "Donkeys for sale! Nice second hand donkeys! From 15 Skatts a piece!" We entered the open air shop. The donkeys were standing together in a muddy spot. Right over them were nice banners telling us how much joy a genuine secondhand donkey would bring us. "Can I sell you a donkey?" the salesman said. He wore a patched coat and had a crooked hat on his bold head. His pockets were heavy from tinkling gold. "We were looking for..." I said. "A sweet easy to handle donkey for the lady, are you?" He paced away quickly on his muddy boots, coming up with a sad looking donkey. My wife looked at me, and shook her head. "This is Prishna, 10 years old but still good. She is sweet and won't give you any trouble." "No she wouldn't," I said, "She is nearly dead. She must be nearly 20. And you painted her hair." The paint was still wet, I noticed as Prishna put her nose in my hand, sniffing for a snack. "And actually, we were looking for..." "A young donkey that can pull your Tainjo into the wild nature so you can enjoy..." He winked with a fireberrywine red eye to my wife. "I got just what you need." He took Prishna and put her back with the other donkeys. Then he pulled another one out of the mud. A young, dark grey donkey, turning his ears in fear. "Uhmhain," he introduced the animal. It neighed softly. "One of the best I have, young and strong. Belonged to an old lady who fed him a little too much." You could say that, the animal was really fat. It would do a nice price at the slaughters. "But then," the salesman continued, slapping the animal on his back, "she hardly did anything with him. Took him out to drive up to Lazulameir and back every menoth, but not more than that." I examined Uhmhain. He sure was young, and fat, and his teeth were bad. But his feet - he hardly had any hooves left. If that old lady had driven with him to Lazulameir, she probably was seduced by the witch of ways and ended up in Lameirvar - days away from Ildritz. The poor animal was beaten a lot, and had seen many roads. Maybe the slaughter wasn't a bad option after all. "No, it is not exactly what we we are looking for," I said. "Now, what is it that you are looking for? I have the nicest second hand donkeys in town, what do you expect here? Horses?" He laughed like his livestock. "Hya, hya, horses, I don't think you and the nice lady can afford that." But his eyes weren't laughing. He wanted to sell. Probably had a family with nine children, all starving, some already dead. He would tell me, in the next stage of his merchant speech. "I want something that lasts longer than the end of the year," I said. "A good donkey, healthy, not necessarily young. Like..." I pointed at one of the donkeys in the mud. "Like that one, for example." He looked up and made sure we saw the doubt in his eyes. "That one is already sold," he said. "For 20 Skatts." "I'll give 22," I said. His doubt grew. He was a good actor, could go on stage anywhere in Ildritz. "Can you pay right now?" he asked. "For a sale like that, I don't accept anything less that gold." I could pay. I picked the coins from the pocket of my trousers and counted the small gold coins in front of him. He counted with me, then took the money and put it in his pocket before anybody could see. "She's yours," he said, and gave me the cord that pulled the donkey. "Goodbye," we said, and left the muddy spot. We hurried home to Harbour Street. My wife sat on the donkeys back and I pulled them through the mud and garbage in the streets of the Nordan Quarter. Ildritz, Pearl of the Nordan, they called it, but they definitely never meant the parts of the city on the riverbank. Our humble home was situated in one of the yards, the old mews from Palace Marèz. They called it Donkey Yard, after our business. I opened the door of the stable and got my wife and donkey in, then closed them. We had only little time. My wife combed the donkey and tidied its head. I cleaned is hooves and polished them. Then, we took reigns from the wall and replaced the rope with it. With some special, quick drying paint, I redecorated the donkey, made the black stripe on its back a little different than it had been. As we had finished, it was like a new donkey. And we had been just in time, for our customers servant already knocked upon our door. He entered the yard in a depressed mood, but smiled as he saw our new second hand donkey peeking out of the stable door. "Is she something you would buy?" I asked him, gesturing at the donkey. "Last time I was here, I wanted to have one just like that," he said. "Unfortunately, you didn't have one, so I went up to Barnish the Muddy from Black Urt Street, and bought one. I went to my bosses banker to get the money, but when I returned to Barnish, she was gone. Barnish said she had passed away. Died of a sudden disease. She was no longer in the court. His other second hand donkeys were just about to die, too, I guess. So now I am back here." He sighed from all the walking up and down Black Urt Street and to the duke's banker and back before he had returned to my humble place. His boots and trousers were muddy. His face was red under his fair hair. "How much is she?" he asked after inspecting the donkey. "Only 30 Skatts," I said. "What? 30? Barnish asked only 20!" He was disappointed, but hey, it was not even his own money he was talking about. Maybe he had to walk to the duke's banker once again to get the extra money. But I had business to do and could not be distracted by pity. "The donkey he asked 20 Skatts for died. He probably knew she was ill. It was a nice price for a second hand donkey, but..." I hesitated as if to tell him the truth as a good friend. "Look, if you get something that cheap, you might ask yourself if you aren't being cheated. I asked you 30 Skatts and I know that is a lot of money, but then you have a healthy second hand donkey that will last you for years." He doubted it, I could see it in his eyes. If it had been his own money, he wouldn't have done it. But know he had a job to do and his master would pay the 30 Skatts all the same. So he nodded. "I'll take her." He handed me the 30 Skatts, and I could hear more in his pockets. His boss, the Duke of Wymar, had given him even more Skatts - this servant would take the extra money for a nice night out in the borders of the Kungsfelthan, where the beer was good and the women cheap. At least he wouldn't tell his boss the real price I had asked. He left the yard with his as good as new second hand donkey. My oldest son Mial, muddy and sweaty as ever, came running into the yard. "You've done well," I told him, and handed him a few kintus. "I told you he went to Barnish and found that pretty animal," he said and smiled at the feel of money in his hand. He would be a great salesman, later. He had an eye for what the customer wanted, even if what he wanted was at Barnish's. We walked into the house, left our shoes in the hall and sat by the fire. Then, my oldest daughter Twil rushed in. "Father!" she said, "you won't believe what I have seen!" She blushed with excitement. I wondered if the foor was in town, or maybe the Cloth Market had special prices, or maybe she was in love again. "I saw Krun this morning, that boy from Barnish!" "What? You mean that boy with the pale face and the straw like hair? Why does he excite you so much?" I was afraid she would fall in love with him. Any other was better than Barnish's son Krun. "He was here, just before the man you just sold that donkey to left the first time this morning. Krun just hung out here, that is what it seemed like, but as soon as the man left, Krun left too." "Do you know where he went to?" I asked. I wondered why Krun hung out near my yard - was it my business or my daughter he was after? "I followed him," she said. "But I lost track of him on Highstreet. It is market day for the farmers of Haimothli," she apologised. "But," she suddenly smiled again, "I saw him come back later from the mews of the Palace of Wymar. He had a donkey with him and headed for his father's court. That donkey looked a lot like the one you sold today," she said. She always had had a good eye for donkeys. No matter what colour you painted them, she noticed other things. Maybe she had a good ear for donkeys too, she claimed she could tell them apart by the way they walked. As we sat at the diner table, I wondered what the Duke of Wymar would ask his servant. Would he send him out again, to buy another second hand donkey to replace the new donkey that had been stolen from his stable today? Related topics: |