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Merchants of the Silent Shore

Chapter III

"But I don't want you to go." The small wolf ran around his father as he packed. "You're always gone for so long and don't tell me it won't be long." Petrus stopped in front of Vargus. "The Guild States are far away. I looked at a map."

"And where did you get a map from?" Vargas asked and stuffed more clothes into his bag. He actually didn't know how long he was going to be gone. It was fifty days there, fifty days back with an unknown amount of time between.

"That funny slave of Marty's came by the other day." Petrus ran off to the other room and came back with a leather tube. He fiddled with the top until it came off and he tipped it over.

Out came a piece of canvas and on it was the map, beautifully painted and detailed, not just lines on leather. Petrus weighted the edges down and then traced a line from Amelie all the way to the ocean where the Guild States were.

"So far away." He sighed.

"You shouldn't be talking to Felix." Vargas wanted his son. "He's a criminal and a slave because of his crimes." He looked around to make sure that everything was still where he left it, but there was too much clutter to really tell.

"He was funny and nice." Petrus was now gazing over other parts of the map. It was an older one, before the Heretics. It still showed all of the Church lands intact with all of the smaller nations within it.

"Why was he even here?" Vargus took another roll of clothes and stuffed them into the bag that was becoming too full. The stitches were straining.

"Marty sent him." Petrus quickly grew bored of the map and got up. He then went and watched his father pack. "He wanted to convince me that letting you go was a good idea."

"Well obvious he didn't convince you and now it's up to me." He picked up Petrus and walked over to the table next to the fireplace. He set Petrus down on his lap.

The small fox wiggled and squirmed from all of the excess energy that children always seemed to have.

"Look at me," Vargas said and the pup stopped and looked up at his father. He could see his mother's eyes and it tugged at his heart a little. Only if she was still alive then this would have been so much easier. "Marty personally asked for me to come along. He doesn't know our world and he needs people he can trust to be with him."

"He trusts me. Why can't I go?"

"..." The question caught Vargas off guard. It had never occurred to him that his son would want to go. He had always been content or shown content whenever he had to stay at home. Now that the question was asked, Vargas found himself not liking the idea.

It was safe at home. The Guild States were squished between two armies since both the Church and the Heretics sent entire brigades with their diplomats for security. There was easily five thousand soldiers from both sides in the country and not to mention the soldiers on the border. It was one happy accident away from turning into a war zone.

"You're safe here. There's plenty of food. The Captain will send someone to make sure you're doing alright. It's just better if you stay." Vargas tried to explain, but by the way Petrus was crossing his arms, he could tell the pup wasn't having any of it.

"I can't stay in the den forever." He groaned. "I want to go with you. I want to," He whined.

"Can't always get what you want, son." Vargas held him tightly to his chest. The pup heaved put a sigh and pushed back against the hug until Vargas relaxed his grip.

"But you can give me what I want," the pup countered. "You just have to say yes. I'll promise to behave. I'll eat my vegetables. I'll go to sleep when you say it's time. I'll... I'll." He scrunched up his lips, trying to think of other ways to convince his father to let him go.

Vargus really didn't like the idea, but he could see how much it meant to Petrus and plus, the pup was growing up. He needed to learn about the world. He wasn't going to learn anything by being trapped here in the house. Also, he knew that Petrus also had a fascination with Marty. Who didn't? Marty was planning on leaving once he fixed his chariot and who knew when that would be. The pup would be devastated if he didn't get to spend more time with him.

Vargus put down the contemplating pup on the ground and leaned down to get to eye level with him. "You promise to do everything I tell you to do?"

The pup's eyes lit up like a Priest's Holy miracle. He nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes!"

"Everything." Vargus reminded him with a press of his finger on Petrus, nose. He sat up straight, feeling a slight crick in his back from being bent over so far. "Now go pack your things." He waved off Petrus and was surprised with a lick to his chin before the pup ran off to his room with an excited bark.

Vargus got back up and kept packing. He reached under his bed and pulled out a heavy roll. He set it on his bed and slowly undid it.

Inside the roll was his armor and his sword. It wasn't the light leather that he normally wore on patrols across the city. It was heavy studded leather with steel scales across the upper chest and shoulders. This was what he would wear if the city were ever attacked.

Before he was just going to wear his normal leather armor that was light and breathable. It was comfortable and would be better for the warmer climate of the Guild States, but now Vargas felt that it would be better if brought this along.

He rolled it back up and tied the straps to keep it together and then he slid the hooks on the side of this bag onto the straps so the two were joined. It was heavy and Vargas hoped he wouldn't have to wear it, but it made his mind a little more at ease.

--

"What do they expect me to wear?" Marty asked Felix as he prepared his own bag. He had been trying to figure out what was expected of him and he had settled on be quiet and look pretty, but the look pretty part was turning out to be more difficult.

He held up several articles of clothing to the cat that was lounging on the windowsill in the sun. His tail flickered and he looked over at the plain shirt that Marty was showing him. He barely glanced before shrugging.

"You're not helping." Marty tossed it aside. He didn't like the material anyways. The wool that it was made from made him itchy. He looked over at his flight suit. It was clean now and no longer smelled of week-old sweat. Would they want him to wear that?

"Hey," Felix said, his eyes still closed and his arm dangling off to the side. Being a slave wasn't so bad, at least being the Messenger's slave. He saw the whipping scars on the backs of others. "I can cook your chicken stew and warm your bath each night, but I can't tell you how to dress. I used to wear whatever I could steal... erm... scavenge. If it kept me warm and dry, then that was good enough for me."

Marty looked back down at his clothes. There wasn't much variety. He had gotten a collection of loose, but comfortable clothes. None of it was rather appealing in a formal setting. If only he brought his suit with him.

"Stop worrying. You'll lose the last bit of fur you have left on your head." He didn't understand how Marty could get by with so little fur. He must be freezing all the time. There were practically no reptiles in Melur this time of year, all of those merchants would be in the Guild States where it never got cold.

"How can I calm down." Marty felt like tearing out that last bit of 'fur' on his head out with his bare hands. "I'm being sent as a diplomatic envoy to a neutral country to help negotiate terms for a trade deal that could end a violent religious war."

"When you put it that way." The cat's tail swished unconcernedly. He really did care too much about the war other than it meant that there had been more patrols along the highways. Not that it mattered now with him being a slave and all.

"I'll just take it all." Marty scooped up everything and shoved it into a bag he had found tucked away in one of the closets during his initial explorations of the house he was given.

The place was too big. It felt like the building was meant to house two or even three whole families. There were too many rooms. There was even a second kitchen with the two being on opposite sides of the building. Marty only found himself using about three rooms. He wasn't even sure where Felix was sleeping. The cat was just there when he needed him, only to disappear once the sun went down and reappear when it rose.

Marty finished his packing by grabbing his pistol and putting it in its holder which he was going to wear around his waist. The gauge on the back, right above the grip showed green for a full charge.

The solar chargers on the ship were damaged, but still working. It was the only thing that would keep all of his tech powered since Marty didn't dare turn on the ship's reactor with so much damage. That was just asking for a radiation leak.

"You packing anything?" Marty asked Felix.

The cat rolled of the side of the windowsill. He twisted his body midair and landed on his feet and one paw to steady himself. "Does it look like I own anything?" He waltzed over to where Marty was and then plopped himself onto the Messenger's bed. It was the most comfortable bed he had ever felt. The sheets were Myridon silk that felt like water gracefully washing over him when he fell into it. He purred loudly.

Marty watched with amusement. He was so much like the cats back home. He had spied him grooming himself at times, licking his paws and rubbing it across his face. Now he was playfully digging through the sheets.

"I guess not," Marty replied. The cat had been wearing the same outfit, a leather vest over a heavy shirt with dusty brown pants the entire time they had known each other.

"Own nothing but the clothes on my back. But don't worry, it's been worse than that before." He stopped snuggling to the blankets and all Marty could see was a short snout and whiskers sticking out.

Marty resisted the urge to reach out and stroke Felix. He didn't know how the feline would react and he didn't want to ruin the small bond he felt he was developing with him.

"So there was a time that you didn't own anything?" Marty set the bag down on the floor, packing finished now. He then laid back onto the bed, near where Felix was.

"Mhm." Felix poked the rest of his face out of the covers and Marty held down a snicker. "Back when I but a lad in the city of Velloth out west. I was a beggar with nothing but scraps for clothes. Years ago." He quieted down and avoided eye contact. "But that's behind me now. Now I'm a slave to a Messenger of the Gods. I'd say that's a step up in the world. Got food. Or rather you have food that I eat. I just mooch off of you since the Church will just give you whatever if you ask. Anyways I'm just property now. But I would like to say that I would be well taken care of property?" He raised his eyebrows.

Marty couldn't tell what parts of that dialogue was sarcastic or not. The cat spoke in a way that there was always a shift of inflection, making it difficult to tell when he was being serious. However, the meaning was obvious.

"I'll see what I can do about getting something more to add to your wardrobe."

The cat sat up, the silk sheets falling off of him. "My lord graces me wth his generosity." He mimicked a bow and grinned up at Marty.

Marty cringed at the display. He hated when they got melodramatic around him. Most of the guards and much of those in the cathedral were better about it, but the public was horrible about it. They swooned over him constantly. "Don't do that. You know how I feel about it."

"As you wish." He bowed again and Marty shoved his head into the blankets.

The next day Marty and Felix along with the customary contingent of guards that were always close at hand whenever Marty went into public, headed out into the city.

At first, Marty could barely stand it. The citizens of Melur parted before him like the Red Sea and wherever he went, all productivity was lost. They stood silently in awe as their glorious Messenger graced their shops. It went on all morning, but eventually people slowly became

More accustomed to seeing him and by late afternoon it got as normal as it was going to get.

"What's this?" Marty held up a series of metal rings that were held together with leather. He looked over at the semi-petrified mouse that ran the stall.

"It- It's a uh- ah- ah tail rings." He finally managed to find his words. The mouse's daughter held her father's hand and quickly sat him down.

"It's jewelry," She said with more confidence, although she kept a tight grip on her father's hand. "You wear it on your..." She looked behind Marty and saw that he didn't have a tail. "We wear it on our tails."

"Hmm." Marty set it back down and began to look at the other wares they had. Much of it was surprisingly similar to what he would see on planet side markets, especially near spaceports where all the merchants set up little shacks to sell at inflated prices to tourists. There was plenty of art, little statues and jewelry. Nothing seemed overly exotic except for the people manning the stalls. There were so many variations from the mice that were in front of him now to a giant snake with arms that was selling spices from some far away land.

"How about this?" Felix draped a pelt around Marty's shoulder. It was heavy and a head of a fox rested on his left shoulder. "Looking mighty indeed."

Marty looked over at the head of the fox and glanced over at Felix. "Is this?" He pointed at it. Could it be? He didn't know their culture.

"Is it what?" Felix was confused. He looked over at the mice who shrugged.

"Is it real?" The proportions seemed off, but I could have just been young. He feared that he might have been wearing a corpse dress of a child from some conquered land. In ancient Earth, Europeans used to by shrunken heads of tribes.

Realization dawned over the feline's face and he erratically waved his hands. "No. No. It's not that. No. We're not savages." He chuckles nervously.

Marty breathed out a sigh of relief and the instinct to throw the pelt off of him and but it faded away. "Ok. Well then, I do kind of like it." He shrugged his shoulders and it stayed on.

"Yeah. It does." Felix nodded and elbowed one of the guards who glared at him in return. "What do you think?"

He wanted to punch the cat. He knew of the history of the Messenger's slave and believed that it would have been better for an axe to have been used rather than a collar. However, he refrained from doing the duty himself since there were laws that protected even slaves. The guard wouldn't dare damage the property of the Messenger. That was just a way for him to get the axe instead. "The pelt suits you, my lord."

"I thin I'll take it." Marty grinned. "How much?"

The mice looked at each other and the father spoke. "It will be a gift for you." He looked at the guards nervously. They merely watched back with little interest. Much of the guard knew that Marty was rather benign and the honor of guarding him, although still an honor, had lost much of its charm.

"I don't want to just take it," Marty insisted. "You need the business. How much?"

The mouse was unsure. He could easily say an outrageous price and was sure that the Messenger would pay. It was a risk though. What if the others with him knew what a fair price would be. No. He wouldn't risk it. He knew that simply selling something to the Messenger would draw in a crowd.

"Twelve dalos."

Marty smirked at the similarity between the name of the currency and the old Earthen currency. He pulled out a pouch filled with coins that had been provided to him by the Church and pulled out a silver coin with the sun stamped on one side and writing on the other.

"Is this enough." He held up the coin.

"Yes." The mouse nodded and took the coin. He turned his back to get his own coin purse to get change, but when he turned back, Marty had already gone, not knowing that he had given the mouse a coin worth 100 dalos.

The rest of the day went quickly as Marty and Felix, along with the guards visited each stall, going down the road. They bought anything that caught their eye and soon they and the guards were laden with good which were brought back to the residence where they resided. They left the market with whispers and talk about how generous the Messenger was.

"That was a lot more than I thought we were going to get." Marty held up a small statue of an elephant in a Buddha pose with his legs crossed. He turned it around inspecting it and quickly turned it back over when he saw that underneath was the elephants balls which appeared to be painfully detailed. He set it down off to the side on a table.

"Needed a few things to decorate this place." Felix was hopping around the place, setting up random paintings on the walls or vases on shelves. He genuinely felt good. He had never enjoyed stealing, but it had been a necessity back then. Now he was surrounded by material wealth, more than he had ever believed he would without having to worry about guards.

He stopped at a bag and pulled out a leather jerkin along with the padded shirt that went with it. He had seen one similar a long time ago and liked how it looked and had always wanted one for himself. Now he had one. He wasn't one to cry. Crying was womanly and he was no woman.

"I want to tell you thanks." Felix's ears folded down to the sides of his head. He had never truly thanked anyone for anything. He had always stolen and taken, never given anything. "This all means a lot to me. The clothes. Just having a friend and not some other bandit that was always plotting to slit my throat for a bigger share."

"No problem." Marty distanced himself from the Buddha elephant that was seemingly winking at him. "I had fun today. Really needed to get away from that ship. The stress was killing me."

He was about to go off on how much more work was needed when a pair of arms wrapped around his chest and he felt a rumbling from behind.

Felix was purring. "Really. Thank you."

Marty patted Felix's arms. "You're welcome."

Felix let go of Marty and put on a serious face. "Now don't tell anyone that I did that."

"I promise." Marty chucked and instinctively reached and out scratched Felix behind the ear.

Felix closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. His purring intensified. Then his eyes suddenly opened and he took a quick step away. The tips of his ears were pink.

"I'm sorry," Marty quickly apologized. "I didn't mean..."

"It's alright." Felix looked away, embarrassed at how good it had felt. "Let's just keep that between us along with the hug."

"Yeah." Marty quickly turned and started to put the rest of the merchandise away. His heart was pounding. He had petted him like a pet cat and Felix liked it, but the reaction was clear, it was an inappropriate gesture that should not be repeated... in public.

Marty busied himself for the rest of the night until everything was put away. He finally had a outfit that he felt was appropriate. It was a mix of different vests and shirts along with a jacket that, in Marty's mind, best resembled a formal suit, minus the tie, he couldn't find one of those. Along with it, he would wear the wolf pelt across his shoulder. It would look weird to the locals, but they already looked at him strangely enough that he wouldn't be able to tell.

When everything was put away, Felix was no longer anywhere to be seen.

"Must have gone to sleep." Marty yawned. He was quite tired as well. It had been a long day. He stretched his arms out and began to walk down a hall. He was curious to see where the cat was sleeping.

The house was big, but not infinite and it only took a short amount of time before Marty found Felix's quarters. It was not what he expected.

The room was cold and there was no candle to light. It was barren except for a thatched mat where Felix's form was curled up with only a thin blanket covering him.

He really did have nothing to his name, not even a comfortable place to sleep. It was unacceptable. It may have been the norm for other slaves, but not in his house.

"Felix." Marty knelt down beside the cat. "Wake up." He pushed his shoulder.

Felix stirred and then rolled over. "Can't I sleep in peace?" He opened his mouth in a large yawns, showing long sharp teeth, but also very human molars as well. While he are primarily meat, he ate vegetable as well.

"You'll never sleep in peace on this piece of shit."

"I've had worse." Felix claimed. He blinked slowly.

"I'm sure you have. Now get up." Marty grabbed Felix's arm and pulled him up. The cat barely helped and Marty was winded by the time both of them were up. Felix was in nothing but trousers. "Come on." He led the half asleep cat through the home until they were back in Marty's room. "Go to sleep."

Felix looked between the bed and Marty. "But. I'm not allowed."

"Changing the rules." Marty insisted. He wasn't going to let Felix sleep on that mat anymore. He would do something about it, but until then, the bed was more than big enough for two.

Felix hesitantly got onto the bed, a far cry to the many times he had dove into the covers like earlier in the day. He pulled a blanket up slowly.

"Oh come on." Marty startled the cat and pulled the blankets all the way up to his chin. "Better?"

"Yeah," Felix said flatly, unsure of what to do with himself.

Marty walked to the other side of the bed and got in. My settled his head on one of the half dozen pillows and by the time he stopped moving, he could hear Felix's rhythmic breathing behind him. The cat was already sound asleep.

"Goodnight." Marty closed his eyes.