Rancid Chronicles: part 13

[Lo Ki]

I was both excited and a bit apprehensive as I waited for my patron to arrive. The thought of a nicer place lifted my spirits but I was concerned about what my patron considered appropriate. I hoped he would not be offended if I didn’t like the place he had in mind. At least there should be plenty of time to find a graceful way out if it wasn’t suitable.

A clatter of hooves and iron-rimmed wheels on cobblestones stopped just outside. The door opened and Rancid walked in with two large men right behind him. Startled by their presence, I froze.

“We will not be needing the bed or this table,” Rancid said to the men. “But be sure to bring that chair,” he said pointing to the chair by the hearth.

My patron then turned to me. “Come with me,” he commanded as he turned to the door. “These men will take care of your stuff.”

Numbly, I followed him outside. A mule-drawn cart stood just outside. In front of that was a horse drawn hack. The small traveler climbed into the hack. I stood just outside my door trying to get sawdust out of my brain. I had not been expecting to move today. This was happening too fast! How could I stop it without offending the little thief?

“Well don’t just stand there,” Rancid ordered, “Get in.”

I did as I was told. The driver snapped the reins and the horse started off.

“Don’t look so worried,” Rancid said, “You’re going to love this place.”

I turned to look back at my shop, but we had already turned the corner. “Don’t worry, those guys aren’t going to steal anything. Besides, there’s nothing there worth stealing,” Rancid said as he pulled a worn coin purse from under his cloak. He handed it to me and I recognized it as the one I used to hold my savings. When and how he had gotten it, I had no idea. “I’ll help you find a better hiding spot in the new place,” he offered. My first impulse was to open it and check my money, but I refrained lest I insult my patron. Besides, he was the one who had given me all the money in the first place. We rode on in silence.

We were coming to a better section of town. My old neighborhood was inhabited mainly by common laborers such as garbage collectors, carters, and washerwomen. There were more taverns than shops. From past jobs, I knew the area we were entering was occupied by tradesmen. Carpenters, masons, metal smiths, leather workers, tailors, and such lived and worked in these two and three story buildings. Most had their shops on the street level and lived in the rooms above. There were also grocers, butchers, fishmongers, and the occasional herbalist and barber. There were taverns, of course, but they were not as pervasive as in my old neighborhood.

We stopped in front of a stone three-story building and Rancid jumped down from the hack. He led the way into the building. The two front rooms each had a window and a door to the street; and the windows had real glass! Since the street outside was wider than the one outside my old shop, sunlight actually made it into the room. The smaller room was equipped with a good solid roll-top desk and the wall was lined with shelves. In one corner was a cast iron stove with a stovepipe connecting to a stone chimney. It would make a perfect scribe shop.

The larger room had a real fireplace with a stone chimney, not just a hearth and smoke hole in the roof like my old shop. This room also had a door leading further into the building. Through that door was a room which ran the width of the building. It had also had a fireplace that shared the chimney with the front room. In the fireplace was an iron oven. Counters and cupboards lined the wall at one end of the room and a large wooden table and benches occupied the center of the room. Obviously the front room would serve as a parlor and this would be the kitchen and common room where the family would spend most of their time, if I had a family.

In this room was another door in the center of the back wall. Through that door was a short hall with a door on either side and a door at the far end. The door on the right opened into a bedroom. A large comfortable looking bed dominated the room. A dresser, chest of drawers, and a wardrobe lined the walls. The room on the left was the same size but was empty.

“These five rooms are yours,” my patron said. “The back room at the end of the hall you will share with the people upstairs.” He paused a moment and then asked, “So, what do you think? Will it do?”

What could I say? The place was a veritable palace compared to my old two-room shop. “Are you sure I can afford this place?” I asked.

“That depends,” he replied, “Are you any good with numbers?”

“I can add and subtract well enough. And I can multiply and divide as long as the numbers aren’t too big,” I answered.

“Good,” he said. “As part of the rent, you will be handling the books for the workshop upstairs. Come. I’ll introduce you to the others.”

He led the way to the door at the end of the hall. It opened into another large room at the back of the building. It was a well equipped kitchen with another large fireplace and oven. A wooden table larger than the one in my kitchen dominated the room. Pots, pans, and bunches of herbs hung from hooks on the beams overhead. Cabinets and cupboards lined one end of the room. The back wall had a door and two windows which opened to a small courtyard. In the court ard was a small herb garden and a shed. A small cart holding four large barrels stood in the yard. I later learned the shed housed a burro to pull the cart which was used to fetch water from the community well. A large gate opened from the courtyard into an alley. Back in the kitchen, at the end opposite the cupboards, were stairs leading up to the second floor. Rancid led the way up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs was a large room running the length and width of the building. The room was interrupted only by the chimneys from below and by columns supporting the third floor. Next to the stairs Across the back of the building were apparently two small rooms as there were two doors in the wall. There was another set of stairs leading to the third floor which I would later learn was divided into a number of small bedrooms. Yet another set of stairs next to the wall at the front of the building led down to a door to the street. The room was occupied by two looms, two spinning wheels, several dressmaker dummies in varying stages of dress, and several small tables and chairs. The room was also occupied by about a dozen women who were working at various tasks. They all stopped what they were doing as Rancid and I entered the room. The ladies ranged in age from their late teens to I guessed about fifty years old.

“How are all my beautiful ladies today?” Rancid called out as he crossed the room with me in his wake. The ladies laughed or smiled their hellos and returned to their work, all except the eldest who awaited Rancid’s approach. “Love of my life, how are you today?” he greeted her as he took her hand and kissed it.

She pulled her hand away and replied, “I was fine til you showed up.” She tried to look stern but a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Well, you will be fine again soon,” he promised her. “I have found you a new bookkeeper and tenant. Erigan, meet widow Anders. I am trying to change the widow part but she’s afraid that my short stature means I might short in other areas too.” Several of the ladies giggled at that and the look the widow gave Rancid was truly disapproving this time. Rancid ignored it. “This is Erigan. He is a scribe so his work should not disturb you ladies. We’re getting him moved in today. He’s the quiet sort, so you will have to watch out for him.”

I could feel the eyes of the ladies on me and I began to blush. “It an honor to meet you Ms. Anders,” I managed to mutter. I forced my self to meet her gaze and saw and friendly smile brighten her face.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Erigan,” she replied.

“Uh, just Erigan,” I mumbled as I flushed anew. No one had ever called me mister before. Not even after I became the big man in the old neighborhood.

“Well, I hope you will join us for lunch and dinner’” she offered. “I know you will have little time for cooking with moving and all.”

“I would be honored,” I managed to say.

The clatter of hooves and wheels on the cobblestones below saved me from further conversation. It hadn’t taken long for the men to pack up my meager belongs.

“Sounds like your stuff has arrived,” Rancid said. “Let’s go get you moved in. Good day, ladies” My patron led the way back down stairs.

It hadn’t taken long for the men to pack up my meager belongings. It took even less time for them to unload my things. When they were gone, Rancid said, “Oh yes, about that hiding place….”

He led the way into my new bedroom and opened a hidden panel in the interior wall. “Not even the previous occupant knew about this,” he said as he placed a familiar coin purse in the compartment. I instinctively put my and to my pocket where I had put the purse earlier. I had never even missed the weight of it. Rancid closed the panel and said, “I’ll leave you to get squared away. Good day.” He headed out the door.

“Thank you!” I called after him.