Chapter 5 - Part 4

Either side of the cobblestone road, there were stalls set up. Cloth roofs of different dyes hung over wooden benches littered with all sorts of wares. Next to a master armourer, a man in rags sold lettuce, roaring at the top of his lungs, desperate to get some customers. Opposite the two of them, there sat an old alchemist, brooding beneath his heavy purple hoods, not saying a word to advertise his wares to customers, but waiting instead for them to come to him.

Ermos and Pash wrestled their way through the crowd, looking this way and that, trying to find a more fitting buyer for their hound. "Not him… He won't have the money for it," Ermos said to himself, after pausing to observe a farmer for a while.

Pash wasn't too fond of markets. Not when they were so crowded. More than once did a man step on his foot and shoulder past him. They did it to his master as well. It felt degrading, as though the people did it intentionally to disrespect them, but no matter how irritated he got, he held himself back from calling out to them, knowing that any fights would be more trouble than they were worth.

They had soon wandered their way to where the travelling entertainers were putting on their show. They were a major attraction in those parts, especially since they only came once a month.

Ermos paused to watch a moment and of course, Pash stopped with him.

A juggler with a big smile on his face tossed five flaming torches in an arc over his head, from one hand to the other. He juggled them at such a speed that they were but a blur, their flames flickering violently from the motion.

As if that was too easy, he moved to one leg, balancing on it as he continued his juggling, much to the approval of the crowd.

He did his act bare-chested, only wearing a wide pair of martial arts trousers on his legs. He was completely bald and seemingly without a spec of hair anywhere on his body. Pash wondered if that was as a result of his craft.

He added a sixth torch into the mix, hopping from one leg to the other, still maintaining that wide smile on his face, showing off his three golden teeth. When he'd done his act, he bowed and held his hands cupped towards the crowd. They showered him with coppers and silvers, and one nobleman even tossed him a gold coin. Ermos had his eyes firmly pinned to all that wealth.

The crowd did not stay quiet, as they demanded their next act. The entertainers knew better than to leave them waiting, and from inside a large square canvas tent, there burst out a man mounted on the back of an angry grizzly bear.

The crowd howled with delight at that. The bear had been saddled like a horse and metal had been forced into its mouth with reigns coming off them. It growled furiously as the massive man mounted on top of it forced it to race around in circles. As it opened its mouth wide, Pash noticed that it had not a single tooth left. He felt rather sorry for it.

But Ermos was smiling. "I think we might have found our buyer," he said. He was looking towards a man as skinny as a skeleton as he leaned against a tent pillar. With the fine blue silks that fell from his shoulders, he was almost certainly the boss of those travelling entertainers. Perhaps he had even been a performer himself for a time, for half of his right leg was missing, all the way down from the knee, and a wooden stump took its place.

Pash wasn't sure that he liked the look of him. He hadn't considered it until now, but he suddenly realized that he worried for the dog. "Can't we find somewhere better for him, master..? These people seem rather cruel. And he's a good dog too. He'd be wasted here."

Ermos looked at him in surprise. "I don't think you need to worry. No matter where he goes, no one will be able to bully him. And it'll be money in our pocket, won't it? Either way, we'll be winning."

"I'm not sure master…" Pash said reluctantly.

"Well, we should at least talk to him first, he might be a good guy," Ermos said, apparently unwilling to back down. Pash knew how long he had dreamt of his wealthy lifestyle. For it to be so close to him that he could almost reach out and touch it, he surely couldn't let such an opportunity go to waste.

Pash had no more rebuttals for him, and he allowed his master to lead him through the crowd, past the circle of watchers and towards the entertainer's tent.

The slender man noticed their coming and a look of distaste fell across his face as he folded his arms to look at them. His eyes were sunken and dead and a long black moustache fell from the top of his lip. Just his wrinkled face was enough to put a fear into Pash.

"You want something, I can see. If I do not want what you are offering, then you would do well to step away from me," the man said menacingly. Two muscular men revealed themselves at his words, poking their heads out of the flap of the tent that the bear riding man had come from.

They stepped behind their boss menacingly. They stood more than a head taller than Ermos, and a good deal taller than Pash. Their muscles were so big that they could clearly be seen even through the thick silk of their long robes. It was wooden clubs that they held in their meaty hands, not swords, but somehow that seemed even more intimidating.

"Did you rhyme that intentionally?" Ermos asked.

The man merely glared at him with an increased amount of menace, apparently judging such a question to be beneath him. They were forced into an uncomfortable silence. Pash felt the urge to gulp as the saliva built up in the back of his throat, but he dared not to, for fear of drawing attention to himself.