Chapter 4: Salty Dog

While she knew a lot of things, Mitty was unversed in the ways of cooking, and her current plans relied on remedying that. She didn’t particularly want to work, so she leveraged the only thing she could to secure Dantes’ help: food. It’s preparation to be exact. She’d thought the plan bulletproof at the time, but she quickly came to realise that it could very easily fall apart as she roamed the outer streets of Esthar of Spice. Vendors of all kinds peddled their wares, including spiced meat, the rich aroma tantalizing, but ultimately out of reach until got some money.

She’d left Dantes at the docks at noon, unloading cargo from the many ships moored in the harbour, with a promise she would return before sun down. After a quick lesson on human mannerisms of course. Minus that one incident where she forgot to tell him humans needed clothes, he learned quickly. She’d found some garments in a big trunk in the upstairs room after breakfast. She wore a matte black tunic with silver trim that went past her knees, as well as shoes that had seemed to shrink to fit her feet. There was a cloak there too that she would have liked to bring but for the heat.

With half the day at her disposal, she intended to explore the city, and figure out her next course of action. Her original plan of buying him bread wouldn’t last long if she wanted to keep Dantes’ cooperation, so she needed a different approach.

She eyed the stall manned by a dark skinned man with an approachable smile.

“Greetings, amira. Are you interested in my wares? Two cop for a skewer, or five for three, just for you” he said with a wink.

“Two cop?”

“I assure you it’s worth it, amira. I use only the finest of local spices. Anywhere else in the world, one sil per skewer would not be asking too much.”

“Do you take other forms of payment? I don’t carry cop” she bluffed. She hadn’t thought to look for money before she left.

“I’m afraid I can’t make change for gold or higher, amira. Silver, no problem though. Unless you mean paying with Lupan gold. I’m afraid you won’t be able to use that in most places in the Esthars, what with the war brewing, amira.”

Not wanting to admit she was destitute, she asked him where the nearest money exchanger was before making her way further into the sprawling maze of tents and houses. She’d kept an eye on the man, but he hadn’t given her a single opportunity to slip off with some skewers. Stealing as a cat was much easier.

Vexing as it was to be unable to get her paws on those morsels, she had gotten what she wanted from the man. Cops were less than silver which was less than gold, presumably by quite a bit. Also, money was different based on where it came from, which was something to take note of.

The man had called her amira, but said so in a respectful way, so she assumed it was a common way one referred to a stranger, or customer perhaps. The people here were less fancily dressed than the ones she’d seen before, but were by no means shabby. The houses were almost uniquely single storied and very rectangular, made of packed earth or mud.

Mitty was intent on finding a market before returning, or somewhere where she could get better food, but she stayed close to the water so she didn’t get too lost in the maze of streets. Maybe one of the locals could point her in the right direction.

Mitty looked about for someone she could ask, but her eyes caught sight of an amber gaze trained on her from an alley leading towards the inner city. Behind the gaze, a very old tabby, missing most of one ear and a scar barely missing his right eye looked at her with intent.

“Good afternoon, old tail. May the spirit of Jalal guide your hunts,” Mitty said, approaching him.

“Oh? May the spirit of Jalal sharpen your eyes and wits, young one. You speak well for a human. Too well, I think, as you smell of kin. I am Joss, and I watch over the northern docks district.”

“Hello Joss, I am Mitty, a stranger to these parts, and you have guessed rightly, for I was a cat until not a day ago. I fear I know not how to turn back, so I must learn how to be human. Do you know where I can get ingredients for human food?” There was a somewhat mysterious air to the conversation and she didn’t want to ruin it, so she mirrored his grave tone and solemn body language.

“A terrible fate has befallen you then, young paw. I welcome you to the northern docks. The market is a bit further along the water, then turn inwards about five minutes. Follow the scent of spices. Even a human nose should be able to pick it up when close enough. I fear I cannot help with your other problem though.”

“Thanks Joss!” she said with a cheerful grin, which she quickly shrugged off, readopting the mysterious atmosphere from before with more seriousness than was believable. “I’m looking to learn how humans prepare food. Do you know where I might acquire such knowledge?” she said with the straightest most serious face she could muster.

“Bah, lay off it, lass. Just let me be a mysterious old cat imparting knowledge, yer makin’ it hard to be serious. Aye, I think humans have books about making food. I know there’s a book store one street before the market square if you follow my directions from earlier. The lady there feeds me once in a while though, so don’t be stealin’ from her if ye can help it. Why do ya need a food book anyway?”

“Well, I might have made a deal with a dog that I’d feed him if he worked for me.”

Joss snorted with amusement. “Well played, lass. Ye don’t look to be much for physical labour anyway. Say, this dog, is he recently human too? I got word from some new whiskers that a strange man that they hadn’t seen before was working on the docks, unloading cargo fer the harbourmaster. Fairer skin than most around these parts, and much bigger too.”

“Should be him; I set him up with the job earlier. We should be meeting up around sundown.”

“Alright lass, I won’t keep ye. Ye’ll be needing to be on yer way if yer to make it back in time. I’d reckon ye’d got another two hours or so. Ye know human time, right?”

“I do. Thanks a bunch Joss, it’s nice to see a friendly tail in a strange place. Come by the burnt place on Cotwick alley if you’re looking for food. If I don’t starve by then,” she added with a laugh, before hopping away lightly on her feet. She was getting pretty good at using her new legs.

Mitty looked back, but Joss was gone, but she could just hear his voice from the alley.

“Ye see that Joel? That exit was right mysterious. Bet I spooked her good, there.”

She was glad to know that she could still talk with cats, and Joss was a useful acquaintance to make, as he knew the city well. Now her only worry was getting food without money. They had only a small amount of bread left, and if she didn’t get more, they’d have to eat nothing but jam until she could get to the market with today’s earnings.

***

Today was a great day for Dantes. In a grand confluence of unlikely events, his life had been completely transformed. Yesterday was the daily drudgery of silently sitting in his small shack outside his master’s house day in and day out, eating the same slop. Today, he was the captain of his fate, master of his own day. He would never again allow himself to be shackled to a master after experiencing the true taste of freedom. And food, the food was good too. The free lunch, for which he arrived just in time to receive, was a boiled potato with a pinch of sea salt. While a bit starchy compared to the bread he’d had previously, the salt rendered the potato quite palatable, which was leagues above what he was used to. He was interested in this salt though. Perhaps it could be used on other things like bread?

Dantes’ grand plan was still in the works, but he had a few points ironed out. First and foremost was the whole no master thing. He’d put up with the man for much too long, and he was pretty certain that humans couldn’t be masters of other humans. He didn’t much like working for a man he knew only as harbourmaster, but he put up with it, as the man had been quite kind to him, and Dantes knew he could leave at any time if he so chose.

Second was probably to eat a cake. He’d gotten a better description from Mitty, and apparently there were many different kinds, but the one she knew best was known as a ‘Birthday Cake’. So special as to be made but once a year, this cake was made using a poisonous ingredient called ‘chocolate’. Sometimes it seems like Mitty doesn’t know quite as much as she lets on; surely humans wouldn’t eat poison on purpose. Regardless, he was determined to try it out at least once to verify this for himself. He’d asked about it, but none of the workers knew of this cake.

Third, was to try out all the food in the world. He hadn’t really thought past this part yet, but he figured it wouldn’t be too hard since earning food tickets was apparently as easy as moving boxes from one place to another. If he kept this up, he might have sampled all the different kinds of food by next month. Wouldn’t that be something? A call from the harbourmaster snapped him from his internal reverie.

“Just unload this last shipment and you’re done for the day!” he called out to the workers. That drew some sighs of relief. Apparently, a big merchant vessel just moored but they hadn’t cleared their cargo with the harbourmaster in time, so they would have to wait until morning before unloading. This meant Dantes would be done early, and could meet up with Mitty before heading home.

With a grunt, Dantes picked up the final stack of boxes, stacked higher than his head. He’d learned from some of the other man that there was, in fact, a proper way to pick boxes up, and it really made a big difference. Even with his old technique, he’d been lifting more than the other dockhands, but with the technique they taught him, he’d been able to carry twice as much again per trip. Dantes tried to carry more, but the harbourmaster came out and yelled at him for stacking the boxes too high and ‘putting the cargo at risk just because he wanted to show off’, or something.

After placing the cargo in the warehouse, Dantes lined up behind the other workers waiting to receive their pay. He recognized the man in front of him as the one who’d shown him how to lift earlier and decided to strike up a conversation while they waited for the line to thin.

“Hey Jonas right? Thanks for the help earlier. I feel like I can lift any number of boxes now. Err, do you know how much we’re being paid?”

The man looked around and shot him a friendly grin. “Aye Dantes, no problem. Just seein’ ye liftin’ like that with yer back like that was painful. Ye wun’t payin’ attention when e’ told ya yer pay? Thas a bad habit, lad. Standard pay round these parts though. One bit per hour, though since we finished up afore we were supposed to, we get a bit more. Say lad, where ye be from? Yer skin’s as pale as poplar, and ye don look like no northerner I’ve seen.” His accent was thick, but the words were clear enough after a bit of thought.

“I don’t know in which direction my home is, but it’s a very long way from here. It was a lot colder there, and I must say I rather prefer the warmth. How much is a bit by the way?”

“Ah, ye must have just gotten ‘ere then if ye don’t know the money. We use cop, sil and gold, not that ye’ll ever see gold in yer life. Unless yer secretely a prince sultan haha.” The man’s laugh was not subtle in the least, and were he any bigger, might have been almost imposing were he not so approachable. “Two cop’ll buy ye a quick meal, nothing fancy. Hundred cop in a sil, and a hundred sil in a gold. Aside from that, we use bars, which are 10 of that coin. A cop bar is called a bit, so that would be ten cop. A sil bar is a card. Only see cards when there be men around to guard them. Last we got jacks, which are gold bars, but ye don’t gotta worry about them none. I ‘ear the sultan ransomed the Lupan prince for 100 gold bars, but I don’ trust it none. I say about 5 jacks is all ‘e got fer ‘im. The Lupan kingdom uses a pretty close system as us, but the money an’t worth the same.”

Dantes chatted with Jonas for a while. Apparently, he came from across the Red Sea to the west, but lived here in Esthar of Spice for 20 or so years with his wife, a seamstress and their child, who already left home to make his fortune but still stopped by whenever he was around. It was common to leave home at around 18 years of age unless you had a business or trade to inherit. Jonas had mistaken him for such a person, and Dantes figured he may as well go with it, as he had no reasonable explanation for the man.

As they approached the end of the line, he noted everyone receiving eight copper bars. The bars were square based, about as long as his index finger, but a bit thinner. When he received his eight bars he thought of something.

“Harbourmaster, we get paid by the hour, right? I only get here at noon.” Extra money was fine, but he didn’t want to cheat the man. That’s what bad people did, apparently, and he was a good boy!

“Nay lad, you worked harder than any three men today. Take this, and I’ll give you a bit extra if you help with unloadin’ The Spitfire tomorrow. I expect that’ll take all day given their cargo.”

They parted with a smile and a wave as the sun was settling into the final stage of the day. Deciding to put his new nose to the test, Dantes set out along the docks with high spirits, heightened by the pleasant weight in the pouch he now carried at his side.