Notes: Let's get cracking to the market, shall we?

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards Ch. 7 Pt. 1

***

Chapter Seven

 

Nest Feathering

Over the next several weeks, Hiram’s home went fromramshackle to resplendent. Or, well, perhaps not resplendent in the wayhe’d once been used to. He’d spent the majority of his adult life that wasn’ton the battlefield living in a palace, after all—not just a palace, thepalace.

Vordure Palace, the home of the emperor of Galenish, oncethe home of the kings of Galenish before the last few generations got imperialambitions. It was the largest royal palace on the continent, with five levelsstretching across a mile of land in the middle of the city, over five hundredrooms and more than a thousand servants to maintain them and their occupants.It was a study in luxury, some chambers made entirely of blue marblecontrasting with red lanterns in the ceiling and walls, white gold fixtures androc-down stuffed cushions. And somehow, despite all its excess, it had managedto be elegant. Beautiful. Home, to Hiram.

Now he was in Lollop, in the former home of Mistress Shore,and he was finally starting to feel like the place truly belonged to him. Thefew items he’d brought with him were no more than a hint of flavor; no, Hiramwas a pack rat through and through. Comfort for him meant coziness, the feelingof being ensconced in reminders of the good—and occasionally bad—things in hislife, a warm fire and warmer company. It was more than a few show pieces andclean corners; this house wouldn’t feel right until he’d associated a memorywith every cup, every fork, every piece of furniture.

It really wouldn’t feel right until he began to plyhis trade, but that was going to take a bit longer to pull off. After all, hecouldn’t “assist” his plants in their growth until his time with Letty ran out.

At least she’d stopped bringing her brothers once theheaviest work was done. Jem, for all that he was a snarly teenager, was good atbuilding, and he’d done such a good job on the rabbit hutch that Mercury, thetroll Hiram had hired to fix his chicken coop and Mule’s enclosure, asked theboy if he was interested in an apprenticeship.

“Good hands,” Mercury had said in a rare moment of Trollishebullience. “Good eyes.”

Jem, after a “talk” with his father about how much moneyhe’d be saving the family once they didn’t have to feed him anymore, acceptedthe offer, and by all accounts seemed much happier living with the trolls.Rickie kept coming, but after a brief chat about responsible child-watchingwith Esmerelda, she’d agreed to covertly keep the child close to the housewhile they played their games of cat and mouse. It made Letty happy, since shecould keep an eye on her brother, and Rickie was thrilled to spent more timewith his “Esme.”

That left Letty, who Hiram was more sure than ever now had afrustrated desire concerning her spark of magic. It was all the morefrustrating since she refused to confide in him, instead putting herself towork every morning with a vengeance and going home in the afternoon afterdiscussions that were limited to which plants to put where, for the most part. She’dwritten off Hiram as unable to help her, and therefore she wouldn’t tell himanything at all. Which—seven gods, what a teenager thing to do. Had he everbeen this unreasonable? Surely not.

Well, he still had a month of her labor left. That should beenough time to get some idea of what bent her touch of magic took and whetherit really was worth training up. In the meantime, he had plenty to do gettingready for his first Market Day. Just because Hiram’s own herb garden wasn’t upand running didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty of opportunity to make concoctions forselling.

The tinctures came first, because those had to steep inalcohol for a while to make the most of their properties. He collecteddandelion and burdock root, black walnut husk and echinacea, feverfew and valerianroot and half a dozen others and combined them in various measures to get liquidremedies for everything from headaches to parasites to menstrual discomfort.

Next were the salves: salves for dry skin, for infection,for inflammation and pain. Salves for spots and for stress, for hair removaland hair growth, for bunions and boils and bruises.

Finally, he whipped up a few exotic combinations for commonhousehold items, just in case people were looking for something different:lavender and ginger shampoos, drops to soothe the eyes before sleep and uponwaking, and a batch of soaps with a goat milk base mixed with candied violetand nasturtium petals. They lathered up so fast the bars probably wouldn’t lastmore than a few weeks, but they smelled divine and left the skin feelingexquisite.

The night before his first Market Day, Tilda came over witha bottle of Jonn’s best cider and a basket full of odds and ends of fabric tohelp him spruce up his wares. “It’s the least I can do,” she said as shesettled in next to him at his new table. “I can’t tell you how delighted I amto see Raileene’s home look so warm and welcoming again. This was a place Icherished for many years, and you’re a good fit for it, Hiram.”

“Am I?” he asked with a little smile, hands alreadywrist-deep in the basket as he searched for the right texture to wrap around thesquare-cut bars of soap. His labels were adequate for the jars and bottles, butthe soap needed a special touch. “I don’t think many people would agree withyou.”

She frowned. “Has someone been giving you trouble?”

“Not…exactly.” He pulled out a length of lilac ribbon andnodded to himself, then reached for the scissors. “I enjoy having guests, andthe deliveries have gone quite well for the most part, but everyone who stepsfoot in this room seems to react the same—wide eyes, dropped jaws, andmumbling. I fear I’m not doing a very good job of making it homey.”

Tilda shook her head. “On the contrary. You’ve made abeautiful home, it’s just not one that a native of Lollop would make forthemselves. I daresay you’ve had a sight more visitors than you expected, hmm?”

“I have.” He’d had deliveries he hadn’t ordered—milk andcheese, raw wool in case he wanted to spin and dye it himself (which of coursehe did) and half a dozen other little things from town that various shopkeeperswanted him to sample. Not to mention the visitors who had no proper businesswith him but came with food to “welcome him to town” and left with hands overtheir mouths and glassy eyes.

“Mm, well, you’re the first person to come to this town witha sense of style in ages. Word of your rather unique furnishings hasspread, and everyone wants a chance to see it for themselves.”

Hiram frowned. “There’s not much of furnishings here,really. Just the rug and chair.”

“And the rather colorful table. And the tapestries on thewall.”

“Oh, those are hardly noteworthy,” he protested. “Just a fewold battle scenes.”

“And the map over the fireplace.”

“A map of the continent! It’s educational!”

“It lists kingdoms that don’t exist anymore,” Tilda pointedout. “In a language very few people in Lollop could speak.”

“It’s a mountain language,” he defended himself. “I grew upspeaking it.”

“Yes, in a land so far away most Oribellians have neverheard of it.” She shook her head. “Just accept that you’re going to be excitingfor a while, and that you didn’t help your cause any by handing out flowers toall your admirers. I’m sure your stall will be absolutely packed tomorrow.”

“Perhaps,” Hiram allowed. “But perhaps not. I’m not entirelysure that the mayor will allow me to set up shop, to be honest.”

Tilda’s gaze sharpened. “Has Uriel threatened you again?”

“Not in so many words, but I’ve received several noticesabout city taxes that seem to contradict each other,” Hiram said. “I think I’mbeing set up for problems by not charging the right amount to cover my costsand the taxes that are to be assessed.”

“There’s no city tax levied in such a manner,” Tilda said.“A portion of all proceeds from market sales is collected at the end of theday, but it’s the same ten percent for everyone. Simply keep track of yourorders and set aside enough to cover it.”

“That’s not what I was told,” Hiram replied, pausing in hiswrapping to fish the notices out and hand them over to Tilda. She took them andbegan to read, her calm slowly giving way to a scowl. Hiram took a moment todangle the end of the lilac thread over Knight’s face, tickling his long earwith it. The enormous rabbit, who had apparently decided that being more than afoot from Hiram whenever he was in the house was unacceptable, batted at itlazily with a paw before settling between his legs with a little sigh. “Lazything,” he chided the rabbit without heat.

His efforts to get the rabbit to play were forestalled byTilda’s affronted huff. “This is ridiculous. You’re not representing yourselfas a healer, simply an herbalist.”

“And yet I’m said to be selling concoctions that will‘affect body and mind,’ hence delving into the healing arts,” Hiram said. “Andto be fair, he’s not wrong.”

“You’re not associated with a temple!” she protested. “Templesare taxed differently than individual proprietors!”

Hiram shrugged. “I don’t know what to make of it, myself. Iwas going to ask you about it earlier, but time got away from me.” That and thefact that he really didn’t want to think about it. Numbers irritated Hiram; hewas far less interested in the quantitative aspect of running a business thanthe qualitative.

Tilda glared at the papers like they’d insulted her. “I’lltake this up with the city council,” she said firmly. “If you’ll let me holdonto these, that is.”

“I would appreciate any assistance you can give me,” Hiramassured her as he finished tying a knot around the bar of soap. “What do youthink?”

She smiled. “It’s quite lovely. I told you, your shop willbe quite popular. Do you already have a ledger for keeping track of sales?”

“Um. Ah.”

“Hiram.” Tilda rolled her eyes. “How did you ever make aliving from this before?”

I’ve never had to earn a living like this in my life. I’venever counted pennies or slips, never had a tax levied on me, never prettied upmy wares to give them allure. The things I did for my living changed the fatesof nations, and it’s all I can do to look myself in the mirror at times becauseof that. Yet part of me wishes I’d never left. “I had help before,” was allhe said. “But now it’s just me.”

Tilda’s demeanor softened. “Well, then. I’ll assist youtomorrow, if you like. Just this once.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Hiram said softly.