Skytrails

7-Debts And Preparations

Krii rolled over on his pallet of hay.

Dim light edged the wooden door to the cave and snuck in through the gaps in the ill fitting boards.

Krii rolled again, off the pallet and onto the hard, cold floor. He groaned, then stretched, then stood. His left knee popped and he groaned again, then trudged to the door and unlatched it.

After relieving himself outside, Krii walked back into the cave, put on a shirt, grabbed his charcoal colored cloak, and walked out into the twilight.

Krii's eyes, well adapted to darkness, took in every detail in the fading light.

He made his way down the hill on the well worn path, a walk he had made so many times he could do it blind hopping on one leg. He had never tried it, but he was sure he could if ever an occasion arose that required it.

Krii hummed a song as he made his way down to the docks. The words of the song involved fishes being delicious and tall grasses hiding fishy masses. He reached the docks, clomped out over the old tired boards to the end, and stretched again as he looked up and then down the river. Not much movement tonight. A few ripples, fish getting after tiny river bugs, a faint whisper of a breeze in the air.

He walked back along the dock to where it left the sandy mud, grabbed a blackened torch from his canoe, lit it in the nearby and ever burning chimnea, and wedged it into a crack in the wood at the back of his boat. He pushed the canoe out and paddled up the river a ways.

A couple hours and three fish later, Krii's belly rumbled. The sun had left for its resting place and a half moon presided over the cool evening. He hauled the small anchor into the boat, pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders, and paddled downriver, back to Mn'vaarin.

"Sa, I got fish for you," Krii said, shoving open the door to Sa Sanana's House of Rest and Revelry and the Finest Bought Food and Drink this Side of the N'kairo for the Enjoyment of Townsfolk, Guests, Passers-by and Weary Travelers.

"Krii," the huge man shouted, holding a pan of something in one hand and a basket of something else in the other, jogging from the huge brick oven to the table on the opposite wall. "String them up. I'll take it off your tab."

"No good, Sa. I'm going to need coin for these." Careful to keep out of Sa's way, Krii strung his fish up on hooks tied to strings hanging from a ceiling rafter over the main stove fire. A couple fish still dangled from another fisher person's catch brought in earlier in the day.

"Sorry, Krii," Sa said. The big Do'tangii picked up a wooden spoon the length of his own arm, plunged it into a pot of simmering stew, stirred twice. "Your tab is too long." Sa brought the spoon ever so carefully to his lips and slurped. He grimaced and reached his hand toward a place on the table next to him, closed his fist around empty air. "Where's the Gatch-damned salt?"

"My tab's always been too long. What's it matter whether I pay some of it now or next week?"

Sa had recovered the block of salt and began chipping pieces of it into the stew with a knife. "I know, Krii. I know. Thing is, I've taken on a business partner and they've been looking over me books and—"

"Business par— What? Sa! No. No, Sa. You don't need a business partner. Business is great! Who is it, Sa? Don't tell me it's who I think it is. Please."

"Krii, listen." The big man slapped the block of salt down and picked up the ladle again. "Miss Sintsii keeps telling me—"

"Motherless cranchii demon spawn son of j'nchaya!"

Sa turned, face red and sweaty, eyes narrow. "What did you say?"

"No, Sa, I don't mean you. I wasn't calling you— I'm just putting words to frustration, Sa. I can't believe you'd involve that old hag in this place. How many times have I—"