Chapter 23: Chapter 23: Wint the Fishmonger

There was an object pushed up around the rim of Wint’s copotain hat that was a cross between a monocle and jeweler’s loupe. He pushed it down over his right eye and examined the crystal berries in the palm of his hand. “Just as I suspected,” he said in a shrewd voice that was raspy from a lifetime of harsh tobacco use. “The skin of these berries haven’t received enough sunlight.”

Then, to the shock of the vendor and the onlookers nearby, Wint spat on the berries and smashed them into the vendor’s shirt. “That should make you think twice about selling me inferior fruit,” Wint said, staring down at the thin farmer through the lens of his odd monocle. Then he took a crate and shoved it into his man-servant’s arms. “For your inattention to detail I’ll be taking today’s order of berries as compensation on this matter.”

“Imagine being so cheap you can’t afford to pay a farmer for their product or labor,” Nay said in a loud voice so everyone in the vicinity could hear.

Mortified, Gracie grabbed her arm and whispered, “What are you doing?”

Nay didn’t know why she said it other than that she’s never liked bullies. Even in Los Angeles, she was never afraid to run her mouth at one or become vindictive. She didn’t like to see people slighted when they didn’t deserve it. And personally, she never liked to be slighted at all. This had caused her plenty of problems in the past and it didn’t look like being in a different world would change that.

Wint froze and his man-servant, a stitchguy who wasn’t used to seeing his boss verbally chastised, whipped his head towards Nay in shocked curiosity as he loaded the crate of crystal berries onto their cart.

“Who said that?” Wint said. He slowly turned to look into the crowd.

Nay stepped forward like she was about to confront a shrill Karen. “Looks like he spent all his money at the tailor and doesn’t have any leftover to pay a man for his honest work. Some would say that’s stealing.”

Wint gazed at her in shock. Even though he was half maugrim, he was still a bit taller than Nay, as she was more petite for her size. And he was much wider and much more muscular than her. “Are you accusing me of stealing, lass?”

“Are you hard of hearing or are you just slow at comprehension?” Nay said. “You took that farmer’s crate of fruit and you didn’t pay him. In fact I saw you threaten and assault him. Which means you wanted the berries but you didn’t have the money to pay for them.”

By now everyone in the market had stopped their own conversations and business to watch the confrontation between Wint and this human girl who was new to town, embarrassing Wint the Fishmonger in public.

It was a sight no one had ever conceived possible.

Gracie tried to hide her face as she clutched to Nay’s arm. “Oh celestia, somehow spare us,” she muttered under her breath.

Wint took a step forward and everyone around Nay and Gracie backed away from the duo.

“Maybe you missed part of the conversation, girl,” Wint said. “But me and Unloc have an arrangement. He supplies –“

“Unloc and I.”

Wint flinched. He wasn’t used to being interrupted and didn’t know how to deal with it. The points of his mustachio trembled in irritation. “What?”

“You said ‘me and Unloc.’ It’s Unloc and I. But I guess you stumble over the rules of grammar after you’ve been caught stealing.”

Wint lost his composure at that and his face rippled with anger. He lifted his cane and pointed it at Nay, flinging mud between them, which Nay leaned out of the way of. He spat. “We have an arrangement! I’ve paid plenty of coin to Unloc and one may consider my dealings with him generous. It is our business and no one else’s if we should amend our arrangement to compensate for lackluster product. I demand precise performance from my farmers and if one week the product is questionable, then we find ways to work around it. And it concerns no one but us as it’s a private affair.”

“Then forgive me for mistaking a private matter as a public one. You might consider my confusion as you seemed to make this private matter loud enough for all of us in public to hear.”

At that, a few people in the crowd guffawed and snickered, but then quickly covered their mouths, turned their heads or disappeared into the crowd when Wint glared at the offenders.

Nay continued twisting the dagger, prolonging the fishmonger’s humiliation. “It also looked like a one-sided conversation and arrangement. I hope you also pay for Unloc’s dry cleaning bill.”

“Dry cleaning?”

How things got easily lost in translation when one was from another world, Nay thought. She corrected herself. “Excuse me. Cleaning bill.”

“Who are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t like Karens.”

Wint scrunched up his face in utter confusion. “Karen?”

“It’s a type who like to abuse and belittle and take advantage of people doing their jobs. Whenever I see it, Karen, I make it my duty to bring attention to the behavior so you can be publically humiliated. I don’t know if that will change you or prevent you from doing it again, but on my end I gain satisfaction. And I will have my satisfaction.”

Wint stood there, his face going through many emotions as he processed her words. He glanced and saw the crowd talking excitedly amongst themselves and smiling.

He grabbed his walking stick with his other hand and pulled a long blade from the stick, revealing that the cane was also a sheath. The walking stick was in actuality a type of cane sword.

Everyone gasped and Gracie pulled Nay back in fright.

As Wint took a menacing step forward, two stitchmen appeared between them.

They were identical twins, with the same hardened faces and the same red hair that fell in braids from beneath skullcaps. They wore a mixture of leather armor and ringed mail, and crossbows hung from their backs. In their hands they held what looked like steel billyclubs. Their left fists were covered in studded gauntlets. On their collars they wore badges marked with a crest that resembled the town of Lucerna’s End. They looked like medieval riot police in a way and Nay did not want to anger them.

“Stop!” one of the sheriffs yelled. “Sheath your blade and call it a day, Wint.”

“But,” Wint stammered, “she has offended me! I am a person of high status in Lucerna’s End and I will not stand for this treatment. I demand you arrest her and flog her in the square!”

“Should we arrest every pretty girl who gives you a verbal lashing now?” the other sheriff asked. “Leave the administration of arrests and punishments to us.”

Wint looked between the twin sheriffs and Nay. Then he looked to the crowd watching.

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He sheathed his cane sword. “What are you lot looking at? Have you nothing better to gawk at today?”

His eyes settled back on Nay. His lip curled underneath his trembling mustachio. “Perhaps we’ll run into each other again soon. But I hope you’ll be wise enough to mind your own business. Because the Brothers Bouldershield don’t run everything in this town. Some affairs are left to more influential elements.”

He spun on his heels, once again using the cane as a walking stick. The crowd scrambled out of his way as he stabbed at the ground with each step of the stick, striking his way through the dirt and back onto the cobblestone street, loping with a lumbering stride, joining his man servant and cart.

Although it was satisfying to humiliate Wint in front of everyone at the market, Nay was aware she had foolishly put her and Gracie’s life at risk. If it wasn’t for the Bouldershield Brother sheriffs, they might have been skewered like kabobs in front of a crowd. There was also the thought at the back of her mind that she would come to regret humiliating the fishmonger, but it was too late to dwell on it now.

“What in the nether hells were you thinking?” Alric ran up to them. Gracie grabbed him for support and buried her head in his shoulder. “Provoking Wint in public?”

Nay shrugged. “Not my fault if he can dish it out but can’t take it.”

“I take it no one has told you about him!” Alric said, patting Gracie on the shoulder, comforting her.

“I know all about him,” Nay said. “And I can say with absolute certainty the man deserves any misfortune that befalls him. In fact, I believe that would be karma. Or justice long overdue.”

Alric shook his head. “Verity isn’t about justice but pulling people close to the truth.”

“Sounds vague and a little boring.”

One of the Brothers Bouldershield had retracted and holstered his strange billy club. He walked over to them and addressed Nay. “Are you alright, lass?”

“My heart’s pumping a little fast from all the excitement but I feel safe now, thanks,” Nay said. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“I’m Rolf,” the sheriff said. He cocked his thumb over his shoulder towards his twin brother. “That’s Jolf. We’re the sheriffs of Lucerna’s End.”

Nay put out a hand. “I’m Nay. Thanks for halting my inevitable impalement.”

Rolf angled his head and made a face, trying to figure out her accent and manner of speech. “You’re new to Lucerna’s End?”

Gracie spoke up then. “She’s the new cook at Quincy’s.”

Then she turned away, blushing.

Nay caught the exchange. She smiled to herself. Seemed like her kitchen manager had a crush on the Bouldershield Twins.

The sheriff seemed impressed by Nay. “Oh, I love Quincy’s. I hope you’re not changing too much! I’m a stickler for the baked trout. The bit of citrus sprinkled on top? It does my belly good.”

“Don’t you worry, sheriff. We’re still keeping the fish.”

“That’s a lass!” He went to knock her on the shoulder with his meaty fist but then realized she was a human and not a stitchgal, and he stopped himself mid movement and then settled for patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.

“Watch your back for that one,” Jolf said, gesturing down the street where Wint went off to. “You won’t want to be walking around the streets and alleys at night alone. Wint has associations with the town’s more…unsavory elements.”

“Message received,” Nay saluted.

“We’ve been looking for a reason to take him off the streets, either in a cell or by a good whack of the ol’ shillelagh, but he’s a slippery old bastard,” Rolf said. “Nothing ever sticks to him.”

“Verity will reveal the truth and shed the darkness with light,” Alric said. “Then you can administer justice.”

“Yeah,” Jolf said, “if you could do anything to help Verity along with that process, that would be mighty fantastic.”

“Verity’s timing is a mystery that sometimes baffles all,” Alric said.

“Do you think?” Rolf said. The sheriff rolled his eyes.

Then he shouted at the crowd, “The show’s over, folks! Go back to your business. The rest of the day beckons.”

The crowd dispersed and the market settled back into its usual business.

Rolf turned back to Nay. “I like your gumption but the next time you decide to provoke Wint make sure me or my brother are nearby. The next time we meet I’d rather you not be on the end of a skewer.”

“You and me both,” Nay said.

He tipped his skullcap at her and him and Jolf strode back onto the street.

“They’re so…handsome,” Gracie said, watching after him, a dreamy look in her eyes. “How did you stay so calm while talking to him? I forget where or who I am if I look into his eyes for so long. It’s like staring into a magical Lac.”

Nay and Alric glanced at Gracie and then looked at each other and smiled.

“So, Alric,” Nay said, “what are you about today?”

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