They found the merchants' district quickly enough. It was the one with the most wagons heading to it and situated closest to the flowing Tova. There was another massive gate here as well, to let the ships in and out. The arc of the gate was a massive dragon made of white marble. Its head faced the crowd, and its two sapphire eyes seemed to stare straight into Nikolas.

"Don't look at it," Tino said, pulling him away.

They were walking next to Sanice's wagon, and Tino had his pike at the ready. So did all the other Rysars. He would have thought it was paranoia but when he looked around all the other merchants had their own hired hands. Some more than others, Nikolas saw a merchant with a veritable small army surrounding her wagons. Though that was maybe because he didn't know the scale of things, it was important to have a comparison. Big, as Brytha had hammered into him, was all perspective. One could have a bountiful grain harvest for Befeld but a paltry tribute to the crown. This was what she worried and harped upon, making enough contribution to the crown. But just enough mind you, just enough. When the collectors were sent back on their merry way to Prebovna Brytha had closed the door and let out a sigh, muttering about snakes in the grass. The dragon did look like a snake, Nikolas thought, and then cursed his thoughts for it jumped to the poor figures he saw the other night.

"Why?" he asked, to distract himself more than anything.

"There are some things you don't do in Icfeld," said Tino, as a way of explanation. He casted a nervous look around the crowd, and motioned for Nikolas to move on. When Nikolas didn't, he shoved Nikolas's head down and hissed, "Move!"

Nikolas motioned for Tino to let him sit on the wagon steps and the other boy let him do so. That gave him a chance to look around. If he was Brytha, he would look around, no doubt jump off the wagon and shake the hand of just the right merchant who would open just the right door. But he wasn't Brytha and he didn't know how to tell if a merchant did honest business. The signs hanging on their wagons and the little symbols they painted on them must mean something, he knew, but the merchants were zealous about keeping their symbols to themselves. There was only one sign he recognized and that was a sign indicating the minimum price of grain, or bread, or wine that the merchant was selling. Otherwise the signs could have been chicken scratch, for all he could understand of them.

He had to focus on something because the crowd was suffocating, the press of them, the shouting and disarray and chaos. A part of him wanted to argue that he should be familiar with this, he grew up in such a household, but that was wrong. The household that Aldeim ran was deathly quiet after his siblings' passing. And Nikolas had gotten too used to that quiet. He shook himself out of his thoughts, jumping down from his perch and making his way over to the driver's seat. To do so he had to push past the Rytsars and an annoyed Tino. But Senice offered him a hand up. She didn't talk much though, her eyes were on the house that they were approaching, a grand brick one with ivy crawling halfway up its face and glass in the window. The ivy was dead, because it was winter, but Nikolas knew it was the type of ivy that bloomed purple and gold in the summer. There were several wagons in front of it already, and some merchants were busy unloading their goods into the house. Barrels and boxes, he saw, and once again, could not make out the words written on them. He didn't check what Senice was selling, it was like age, one did not ask unless the information was offered freely. But he was curious now, on what she sold. It couldn't be food or wheat, this was not the time to be selling them. And in any case the wagon did not smell like food or preservatives. His thoughts were interrupted by Sanice shouting.

He jumped as she almost pushed him to the side, standing up and gesturing furiously. "Make way! I paid for that spot madam! Make way!"

When the woman didn't move, she signaled for the Rytsars who forcibly pushed the unfortunate merchant and her small horseless wagon away from the space Brytha had reserved. There were curses from both sides, the merchant to Sanice and Sanice to the other woman. When it was all over Sanice was red faced and sweating. She let out a great sigh, falling back on her seat and wiping at her brow. It was rude to laugh, so Nikolas bit back his grin, but he couldn't help thinking that Brytha may look like Sanice in the future. Though perhaps with less creativity, Brytha was very civilized.

"Nikolas," Sanice said, turning to look at him. "Do you want to go with me to see Faila later or are you content to wait around? I would tell you to go look for yourself but you don't seem at all steady on your feet at the moment."

"I'd rather wait for you, thanks," Nikolas said, nodding in relief. He couldn't even make out the merchants' signs. How could he even hope to find Faila among all the color and scribbles?

Sanice nodded, and with a final wipe of her forehead with a handkerchief, tossed it to the wagon before jumping out of the driver's seat and ordering one of the Rytsar to feed and water the horses. The others she ordered to guard and help her unload the boxes.

"Should I help?" said Nikolas, making his way over and shuffling his feet.

"You keep an eye on the wagon and shove anyone out that tries climbing in," said Sanice straight-faced.

He grinned nervously at that, and decided it meant that he ought to keep out of her way until she was ready to help him find Faila. Thankfully Tino was also tasked with watching over the wagon.

"Why did she take those boys and not you?" said Nikolas before he could stop himself.

Tino chuckled, "I already went into Rianskala, I'm not jealous."

"Rianskala?" He was terrible at reading but he was not bad at remembering names. Rianskala sounded nothing like a mountain range or merchant names.

"It's the name of the head merchant's husband. They change it every so often for flavor you know. Don't ask me why."

"Why Rianskala? Would it not be Rian?" said Nikolas. The name sounded superfluous on his tongue, and it sounded more feminine than masculine.

"Don't ask that question to Kvanka! You'll know her, she's the best dressed merchant in the house. It's because," here Tino lowered his voice and motioned for Nikolas to lean in, "it's because her husband is one of those."

"Those?"

"Did your father never tell you of s— marital relations?" Tino said in an overly exaggerated swagger and Nikolas flushed. "No, he didn't did he? Well, in Prebovna they do these men a favor and give them women's names. Then everyone knows what they are."

"Right," said Nikolas, deciding he couldn't place Tino's tone and not certain what he ought to make of the information. Tino didn't whisper because it was something witch related. He whispered like it was some secret one shouldn't tell in open daylight.

"Oh you poor soul," said Tino and he held his hand to his heart like Nikolas's reply personally wounded him. "You know I never recommend anyone going to a seamstress but for you I just may make an exception."

"Why?"

"Kvanka's husband is one of those men. You know, the ones where the Goddess couldn't quite decide what to make of their birth so She in Her magnificence decided to give them both parts?"

He stared at Tino, then rummaged through his head, a tiring procedure, for anything to help him understand what on earth his friend was trying to say. Then it occurred to him, Jozin's declaration and the odd interaction he'd had with the boy upon meeting him.

"Oh, right!" He nodded, "Of course, I understand!"

"I am so proud of you," said Tino, wiping his clean face. "And here I was, reaching for all the other words to say."

"You could've just said sex," said Nikolas, scoffing. "I know the word sex. That's a word, and I would have completely understood you." He grinned at the affronted look Tino threw his way and decided he ought to jest as well. "Then I wouldn't have to stand there and watch you puzzle over whether or not you should introduce me to a seamstress."

He had the nagging feeling that he knew what they were, but decided it was a thing he ought to tell his sister the next time he met her. Just to see her turn red and tell him off, he thought, amused. She was always playfully teasing him, it was her turn to get a taste of her medicine.

"Do you know what to do around these parts?" Tino said, "We're here now so Sanice's kind enough to offer us some time off. I can show you some of the harbor shops, those are nice, you always get a good deal when you come just before closing time. Or we can try going to the highest bit in Prebovna before we're thrown down for intruding upon our betters."

"Don't you have a proper Rytsar's uniform?" Nikolas interrupted, "Won't they let us through if we wear the proper uniforms?"

Tino's eyes were very wide and very shocked. He gaped, fish-like before frowning and said, "Why, I did not think of that. Well. Shame on me. To be fair I never kept mine in good working order. But I suppose... I suppose if one asked nicely the troupers can find us uniforms that fits! Or they can fix mine and my spare!" He clapped Nikolas on the back enthusiastically, so hard that Nikolas began coughing.

"What is up in Prebovna?" Nikolas probed, all innocence. He knew the church was up there, that was certain, but from the way Tino said it, there must be more.

"Tributes of all sorts," Tino said, and there was a dreamy note in his voice when he started the list. "Grapes, cantaloupes, oranges, pineapples, olives, butter, cheese, white bread, mutton—"

"What is a cantaloupe? What is an orange?" Nikolas interrupted with a frown. In the context, it must be a fruit, because while he'd never seen a pineapple it had the word apple in it so Tino must clearly be talking about fruit. But then he started to list butter and cheese and white bread, so he could clearly be wrong.

Tino looked truly heartbroken then, "You've never tried one? You poor soul! Don't worry we'll go up and see if they've got some. It might be too late though, it's winter, there's no cantaloupes in winter. Unless they grow them in those huge glass houses, but I don't know if Prebovna's got glass houses, I think it's only the wizards that have them."

"Are cantaloupes and oranges fruit?" Nikolas demanded.

This managed to throw Tino off whatever horse he was riding to and whatever destination he wanted to end at screeched to a halt as he nodded enthusiastically at Nikolas. "They are the best fruits ever, it is like tasting the sun!"

"The sun is hot and unpleasant," Nikolas said, picking his words for maximum horror from Tino. He was promptly rewarded with splutters of dismay.

"You wound me!"

"Haven't you ever had a sunburn?" Nikolas sniffed, crossing his arms. There was one summer, a long time ago that his father had taken the family to the sea. "It's most unpleasant."

"I don't burn as easy as you do. Figuratively too," Tino challenged.

Nikolas grinned and held out a hand, "Let us see about that."

They shook hands, and as they waited for Senice to finish her business, the uncomfortable din of the crowd was replaced by a warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach. It was nice to have a new friend.