Post by chris on Feb 9, 2016 19:58:36 GMT -5
Mercator Contacts the Radiant
Archimedes Mercator, Part 3
Once he determined that Octavie was lost, Mercator departed immediately. He came to the inn on a miserable day, through a biting wind and driving rain, walking several miles from his tiny shop and carrying a little brown portmanteau he’d lashed to his back. He was wrapped up from head to foot in an oiled travel cloak, and the brim of his soft felt hat hid most of his face. The rain had drenched his shoulders and chest, and added a darkened collar to the burden he carried. He staggered into the Castaway’s Choice, more dead than alive, and flung his portmanteau down. “A fire,” he cried, “in the name of Grimm! A whiskey and a fire!” He shook the rain off himself in the bar and checked the soundness of the maps he carried, before he struck a bargain with Mrs. Halla to stay the night. With that, he took up his quarters in the inn.
Mrs. Halla lit the fire and left him there so that she might prepare his whiskey. When she returned and set the drink out for him on the table, she was surprised to find him still in his wet clothes, staring out the window at the falling rain. His trembling hand held a small parchment, and he seemed to be lost in thought. Then she noticed his dripping coat and hat, now thrown over a chair near the window. “Your overcoat will take some time to dry. I’ll hang it by the hearth to hasten its drying, then I’ll fetch you that drink.”
“Thank you,” he said without turning.
She realized he hadn’t eaten and was about to mention supper.
He turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder. “Soon a visitor will call on me. Please send him up straightaway,” he said quietly, and she noticed that he wore big blue spectacles with sidelights, and had a broad ink-stain that reddened his cheek.
“Very well, sir,” she said. “In a bit the room will be warmer. I’ll have some food brought up for you and your friend.” With that, she whisked out of the room.
Mercator turned away from the door, and he replied to himself thoughtfully, “no, dear Mrs. Halla. Not my friend. Not my friend at all.”
Several hours later Mrs. Halla returned, this time with a plate of dried ham paired with a stout glass of whiskey, and her second strange visitor in tow. She rapped and entered promptly, announcing the new man, tall with a greying beard that completely covered his broad chin. There were no smiles or pleasant greetings between the men, and the second visitor simply moved to sit himself down across from the first.
The ink-stained man turned round again, regarding her with his inscrutable blue glasses. “Thank you kindly for seeing that we are not disturbed for awhile,” he said drily, glancing from her to the door and then at her again. She nodded and moved quickly to the door.
The visitors sat motionless and listened to her retreating feet. Mercator glanced inquiringly at the window before he took a long draught from his whiskey. “I know you can take me to him, Charon.” He raised a hand as Charon started to protest and said, “Do not deny it. I know what you are. You must carry me to Mynos, to meet this Weston and his Radiant Few within three days’ time.”
Mercator handed Charon a single gold obelós.
Mercator Role play
- Part 1: The Map that Turned the World
- Part 2: Octavie Goes Missing
- Part 3: Mercator Contacts the Radiant