The forests that surrounded the ancient city of Saanazar were just suited for Therelin’s botanical needs. He learned quickly which properties he could find in which plants. To his surprise, many plants from Keth also grew here in Radregar—nearly a thousand miles away. Some herbs he knew well did not grow around Saanazar, and there were many others growing in this new land which Therelin had never before seen.
Therelin’s room in the Skyfire Hearth, on the other hand, was a much poorer venue for his needs. It was small, especially once stacked with small boxes and pouches of resources he had collected or when he invited a patient upstairs for treatment. As frequently as possible, he kept the latter dealings to the Hearth’s common room or even the street outside. Both of these venues, of course, were not great for advertising his abilities or growing a business.
Evenings were spent next to a small magic-lit lamp, with Therelin’s nose crammed between the pages of a book. Only some codices were available for removal from the various library holdings of Ular Graan, so Therelin spent some of his days lounging in armchairs deeper in the city.
It became quickly apparent to him that this would not afford a second month of the research fee—not until his role as an apothecary garnered a larger clientele. Reluctantly, Therelin went in search of other work. After one half of the month had passed, he decided to see if he could find any leads in the nearby Callu Street Market.
It was a drizzly day, scattered with light rainfall and low-hanging clouds. Burnt Keep was partially obscured on two different occasions that Therelin noticed, as he set out from the Hearth. Despite the weather, the streets were as packed as any other day. Therelin forced his way through clutches of market-goers and guards. His broad shoulders and staff made it easy to make his way usually, but made it more difficult to avoid the overladen wagons or wheelbarrows that periodically trundled past.
On the corner of Callu and Storm Passage Road, a priest of the Atmos Septi spotted Therelin weaving through the crowd and called for him to pause. The man looked only a year or two older than Therelin, but had distinctly yellow teeth and red-speckled eyes. “You’ve got a look about you,” he said to Therelin and he scrunched up his nose. “Are you looking for work?”
Therelin nodded. It was an astute observation, but not mysterious. There were only a handful of pedestrians that were not shopping, working, or begging.
“I’d pay for some help with repairs at a nearby chapel, and other odds and ends.” The priest crossed his arms. “Five Grey Sea coins each day.”
That made Therelin pause. He did some mental addition quickly—he was making about two such coins each day as an apothecary and seven for thirty days would afford him the 150-coin research fee plus his living expenses for a full Moon. “Five and a few tremis?” Every city that used Grey Sea coins had at least one other—smaller—measure of money. In Saanazar, it was ten tremis for a single Grey Sea piece of copper.
The priest smiled apologetically, but his unhealthy teeth did little for the expression. “I can only afford five.”
“Well,” Therelin said, “Maybe I’ll come back this afternoon.” The priest lowered his chin into the folds of his grey robe and nodded.
Therelin spent the next hour navigating the various avenues of the market. He saw numerous signs directing candidates to the harbour for work aboard fishing ships. Once or twice, he encountered men calling for potential shipmates—Therelin asked them about the pay and was quite disappointed.
Midafternoon, after a particularly heavy sheet of rain, Therelin passed a peculiar man standing in front of his market stall with a large bowl of soup. He made no attempt to haggle with Therelin, just rested the bowl on his round belly and continued enjoying his late lunch. Therelin took a quick perusal of the man’s table. A variety of glass ornaments and dishes were arrayed on a ruby-red runner, while a small hay-packed crate beside the table held proper panes.
“You shopping?” the man asked, sniffling and lowering his spoon. “You don’t look like you’re shopping.”
“Just looking around,” Therelin said, dismissively.
The man took another mouthful and chewed it thoughtfully. He looked Therelin up and down. “You want to work for me?”
“What?” Therelin asked, confused.
“You look strong,” the man said, shaking his arms and shoulders in a display of mimicry. In doing so, he spilled a few drops of soup onto his cuffed beige sleeve. “Gods,” he cursed, and took another mouthful. Therelin waited incredulously until the man was ready to speak again. The strange merchant swallowed heavily and stammered, “L-Listen. I’ve got crates I need to move every day and sometimes I get deliveries down in the harbour—all the way from Numa’nakres, I might add. And look at me! I’m in no shape for this sort of work.”
Therelin squinted at the man as he tried to comprehend this strange exchange. The man seemed to have sweat on his brow from eating his soup too avidly. “How did you get your stall set up today? What happened to your previous employee?”
“Listen, do you want the job or not?” the man asked. He jutted his spoon in Therelin’s direction aggressively.
Therelin shrugged and strode away. Then, pausing before he was out of speaking distance, he turned back. “How much do you pay?”
“Hmmm. Huh. Seven?”
“Seven?” Therelin repeated. He took a step back.
“A day,” the man said, nonchalantly. He took another slurp of his soup and watched Therelin thoughtfully. Then, speaking around his mouthful, he said, “No. Eight.”
“Eight.” Therelin said. “To carry boxes each day? Done.” He would be generating a profit beyond his needs with this job. In fact, Therelin realized, he wouldn’t even need to continue his working as an apothecary. He’d prefer it to carrying boxes, he suspected, but he’d also prefer to keep his evenings free for studies at Ular Graan.
“I’m Ethraw, cousin of Lord Ryjar,” the man offered. He shelved the spoon in his half-empty glass bowl and offered Therelin his hand.
Therelin smiled and clasped the man’s forearm as was the custom in Keth. “I’m Therelin,” he told the man. He still had his staff and a small pack in which he had carried his lunch. “I’ll just run some of my things back to my inn room and I’ll be back to help you in time for the evening.”
“Better hurry,” Ethraw said. “I need my wares dried off after the next rain.”
“What?” Therelin asked, confused. He shrugged. “Never mind—I’ll only be a minute.” He hurried off down the street, eager to get started at making his livelihood in Saanazar more reliable. He glanced up at the battlements of Burnt Keep, but the clouds were scattered in front of them still. What a strange, strange city… Therelin thought.