Prologue

A thick fog hung over the calm water of early morning. Juniper’s breath floated out before him, turning visibly white from the cold. He wore a heavy blanket over his leather clothing and he pulled it tight around himself. It was the same blanket he had used earlier when he slept in the cabin with the other crew. It wasn’t as cold down there, maybe because they were all crammed into the same room, one on top of the other, in hammocks suspended from the supporting beams.

The deck of The Gentle Giant was mostly empty, save for the few who had to stay up all night keeping watch and man the sails. He walked to the bow of the ship, leisurely, as he was no longer on duty and had no need to demonstrate his hustle to his superiors. They would yell at anyone they saw walking at such a slow pace, “to get on with their work,” something that Juniper had found annoying, and even counterproductive. He noticed how it caused the crew to always run when visible on deck, making a show of it, only to arrive at their destination where they would idly work at their task, deliberately slowly. Or maybe it was intentional on the captain’s part, motivating his crew to work at the complicated tasks slowly and, hopefully, without mistakes.

That was over for Juniper though, he had worked his last shift as a deckhand the previous night, sleeping like a newborn in his hammock and dreaming of his future with, what he imagined must have been, an ear-to-ear grin on his face. It was a long few years working this vessel, but soon he would finally be free.

The man of the watch stood at the bow, facing out at the wall of mist before the ship, looking through his telescope. Juniper stopped a comfortable distance behind him, not wanting to startle the man.

“I ne’er thought Venocia were a cold place,” voiced Juniper.

“It’s not,” responded the man of the watch. He lowered his telescope, still staring out at all the nothing before him. “It’s just a cold mornin’. Doesn’t get much colder than this here; not much winter to speak on here.”

He turned to look over at Juniper, with a questioning gaze. “You’re awake early. Shouldn’t you try to get an early start on your work then?”

“I’m no longer with the crew, not after yester’. I’m leaving y’all at this port.”

“Going to live in Venocia, why? It’s a festering place.”

“I’m not sure, just an urge I’ve got, I suppose. Felt that way for a while.”

He looked at Juniper and smiled. “Did you dream of it since you were a child? Trying to live out some fantasy are ya?”

Juniper tried to remember when he first felt this compulsion to travel to Venocia, but he settled on no particular moment. His mind felt like the fog that surrounded the ship, a blank slate of white.

“No, not that long,” said Juniper. He felt no obligation to explain further than that. He hardly knew this man, he would usually only see him for a moment as the shifts would change, he didn’t even know his name. Although he enjoyed his company currently, their crossed paths would likely never meet again. He left it at the simple no and moved the conversation along. “See anything out there?”

“Not a blasted thing! It’s a thick fog, it is.”

“A problem?”

“Yes, yes. We can’t even head into port now. ‘Tis out there, just beyond ‘at fog, but it’d be a reckless approach. We turn an’ stop slowly to move in such a busy port w’out good sight.”

Juniper turned to look back at the ship he would soon leave. Wafts of fog clouds touched, and wrapped around, the tips of the sails. The sun was a dim orb that could be viewed without squinting, but its light still seemed to penetrate as an ambient glow.

“‘Tis alright though,” continued the man of the watch, “the day will remove the fog, soon enough. Then I suppose you’ll be free to leave.”

The thought of finally satisfying his urge filled him with joy. The compulsion had been a long companion to him, like a light in the darkness drawing him as if he were a moth. The pause in the conversation, and the eerie silence of the morning, was pierced by the blow of a horn, three quick beats, a short pause, then three more. It was at the perfect rhythm for them to recognize it instantly.

“It’s the skipper,” said Juniper. The skipper was The Gentle Giant’s scouting vessel, always dependent on the main ship, but with enough supplies, it could last on its own for a day or two.

They both looked to starboard, towards the source of the sound. The man of the watch peered through his telescope, but it was hardly necessary. The small, agile ship emerged from the veil of mist, quickly turning to avoid collision with The Gentle Giant. They hadn’t even had time to return a horn blast to signal how close they were to each other. It was fine though, the skipper turned and skidded around as it slowed.

“Go and drop the ladder,” ordered the man of the watch. Juniper thought of saying that he no longer had to do what he said, but thought better of it and just obliged the man anyways.

On instinct, he broke into a jog as if he were still worried about being reprimanded. A few strides, as he came to the ladder bundled up in a roll. He undid the knot that kept it organize, then flung the whole thing over the side of the ship. It unfurled itself as it drop, which caused it to swing around as it fell before its lower end landed in the water. It dangled, as the ladder was just two ropes with a series of knots tied in them, and pieces of wood connecting them together and acting as the steps. The spot it landed was clear of the hull, since it narrowed as you went down, it was far enough from the ship that the skipper could safely maneuver over to it without risk of crashing.

“All clear to come aboard!” shouted the man of the watch.

“Coming aboard!” responded the man from below.

Juniper recognized the voice as that of the first mate, Sir Enfir. It was his de facto captain, the leader of the evening shift that he usually worked. An oddity, as Juniper would have guessed he would still be asleep. He had to stay up later than the crew he ordered around, one of the few downsides of being an officer, and so would normally wake later than them. It was still even earlier than Juniper would normally wake up. He had only woken so early due to his nervous excitement.

The man climbed the rope ladder, as he ascended the skipper moved itself, a cautious measure in case Sir Enfir stumbled, meaning he would just fall into the water, taking on no more harm than getting a bit wet. It was a long ascent, The Gentle Giant was, after all, named for its imposing size, he was climbing the equivalent of a three-story building and so if he fell onto the wooden deck of the skipper, he could seriously harm himself. The skipper disappeared into the fog before Sir Enfir made it on deck.

He was dressed unusually, wrapped in the long and loose flowing robe style that was common in Venocia, an outfit ill-suited to manual work, or climbing ladders. His hair, proper and oiled, his skin clearly washed. “Juniper, you’re awake,” he said matter of factly.

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep much more ‘an I have. Bit too excited I guess.”

“Ah, we will miss you, you were a good deckhand.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I might as well tell you this now–I had a little meeting in the city just now, to arrange a bit of work for the ship, and I remembered you and your leaving. Good fortune–I found you a bit of work. If you go to the Faustian port and mention your name and mine, they’ll give you work at decent pay and even help settle you in the city. I have given them my word that you are a diligent and capable worker–Don’t tarnish my reputation by turning into a drunk.”

“Thank you, Sir Enfir!” Juniper wanted to hug the man, he even spread out his arms for an embrace, but Enfir took a step back, baring a frown that showed he was in no mood for that.

“I’ve been up all night, so I’ll be sleeping for the duration of our stay in port, that is to say, I won’t be seeing you again. So, farewell.”

“Farewell,” said Juniper, and they parted.

Enfir headed towards the captain’s quarters and Juniper returned to the bow of the ship to search for the city he would soon be living in. The fog was already starting to break apart, the faint outline of buildings and the sails of other ships began to be seen.

“Why would Enfir ‘ave gone into Venocia at night? Why wouldn’t he just wait for morning when we would be in port anyways?” Juniper asked.

“Some work is best done at night,” he responded, “I wouldn’t ask anything further. ‘Specially not be asking me. How ‘bout you get your pack ready, the fog is lifting, we’ll be in port soon.”

When he returned to deck, the ship was already well into the port area, moving slowly between the smaller trading vessels as it weaved towards its desired dock. He looked at the large stone building, one after the other, both huge, and small in comparison to the grand scale of the city. What would be considered a large dock anywhere else, was just one of many on a coast overcrowded with ships and workers. The deck was busy now, men watched over the side railing, ready to shout if the hull came too close to anything.

Juniper just relaxed and waited, staring out into the city, marvelling in every detail he witnessed. Focusing in turn on the people walking on streets far away, on the carriages rolling down the streets, on the red clay roof of buildings, the arched windows of wooden shutters, and on the imposing spire of the Temple of Aurelia. The temple was a prominent feature of the landscape, taller than all the other buildings, made of white marble, an impossible construction that he and everyone else knew was never constructed. He found himself fixating on that building for a time, drawn to it. He shook his head, regaining his focus, knowing he needed to concentrate on other things.

They came to a stop and the men threw ropes over the side of the ship and the men at the dock grabbed them, tying the ship to anchoring posts. The gangway was set up and the tax officials were the first to board. One of them, dressed in a white flowing robe, came to him.

“I hear you are going to be entering the city.”

“Yes. I am Juniper, I have the required coin to purchase entry.”

“I have prepared your letter of mark,” said the official, pulling out a letter with a big red wax seal on it. “Give me the five silver venti coins, then if ever anyone asks for your status show them the letter, it will prove you are a legal immigrant, protected by the secondary rights allowed to them.”

They made the trade without issue. Five silver coins was a small price to pay to quell that desire he felt in his heart. “Thank you,” said Juniper with the letter in hand, at last.

“You may leave the ship at will now. Do not lose that letter, or try to have someone else use it. That is a crime that is harshly punished–May the god’s mercy shine in your heart.”

When the official walked away, Juniper went immediately to the gangway, ready to make his final departure from this vessel. All he had was the pack on his back, filled with a change of clothes and a few trinkets, and his currency. He didn’t need much else, as everything else could be bought in the city. Food was easily available as even from there he could see the food stalls on the street selling their freshly cooked fish.

His first stop upon leaving the ship was to the Faustian dock office. He introduced himself and they courteously helped him, telling him to show up at sunrise the morning after the next day to start his work. They offered him a silver coin for five days of work throughout the week, meaning he would only have three days fully to himself. Juniper was happy with the wage, but even they were willing to explain to him that the wage wasn’t great.

“You have a skewed view of wages, both from working on a boat, and working outside of the city,” said his soon-to-be supervisor. “Don’t think yourself rich just yet. Unlike on that ship you need to pay for your food and shelter.”

“‘Er place you suggest?”

He first looked at Juniper as if he spoke a different language. “If you head up that road,” he said, pointing off into the distance, “a couple of streets over you’ll come to The Shield of Grin, talk to the man that works there and you can book a room by the week. It’ll save you having to stay at an inn. Just look for ‘The Shield of Grin’ written on the signboard.”

“Um ... like, writ’ in letters?”

“You can’t read?”

“No Sir, I can’t.” Juniper hung his head, reading and writing weren’t things of importance in his past, and he never bothered to learn that skill.

“Just ask people around there to point it out to you. You don’t want to end up in an inn. You get good service, but their prices are robbery.” The Faustian docker work waved him off with the flick of his wrist, an indicator that he had used up enough of his time with the conversation. “I’m glad to have some capable help, but I have other things I need to attend to. These are busy times.”

After he left, Juniper walked the busy streets as directed, heading toward The Shield of Grin. The people on the street would glance at him as he walked past, some even staring, gawking at him. Juniper somewhat expected as much. He would be an odd sight to them, his skin darker than most of the population here.

Although Venocia was a grand city, a place that many cultures had visited, it was predominantly a mixture of two races, the Vanis and the Brenish. The Vanis had fair skin, often curly skin, and were a bit shorter than the Brenish people. Those of Brenish ancestry had tanned skin and dark thick hair. But even though the Vanis thought of the Brenish as having tanned skin, Juniper would have called them lighter-skinned back in his homeland.

Juniper, and his people, had darker skin, not as dark as the coal-coloured black of the people of Bremen, but darker than was usual here in Venocia. He knew he stuck out of the crowd. He would make good use out of the letter of mark as he was sure every random guard would question the legality of his presence in the city. He was also taller than most, even among his people who were on average taller than the Vanis and the Brenish people.

He looked away, focusing not on the people but up at the awning that stretched from either side of the street, almost touching each other in the middle. They were made of light fabric, light enough to let the sunlight pass through, but providing unneeded shade. They stretched over the wooden stall roofs where wares and food were sold.

The smell of meat, dipped in oil and cooked above an open flame, was at times wafting through the air, and at other times, such as when he walked past an alleyway he could smell day-old urine and vomit lingering about. He walked quickly past the alleys and stopped to browse at the stalls, taking in the scene.

Was it so different from his home? There were bazaars and markets there too, maybe not as busy, but there was something similar, right? His memory was fuzzy and hard to grasp.

Eventually, he started asking the citizens for the location of The Shield of Grin.

“‘Ere is The Shield ‘o Grin?” he asked a man stelling some salted fish.

“Excuse me?” he responded in a harsh tone.

“The Shield ‘o Grin.” He realized he wasn’t being properly understood, and chose to mime what he wanted. Juniper made a confused look and shrugged while looking side to side, hoping it would get the point across.

“Oh, over there.” The man pointed at a doorway on the other side of the street, but the exact door was unambiguous, it was the only entranceway in that area.

Juniper walked over to the already opened doorway. Through it, the other end of the tunnel could be seen a yellow drape of light where it opened out into the courtyard of the insula. He walked in, no one stopped him or questioned who he was until he was in the courtyard. There, eyes flitted over to him. It was likely a natural reaction at first, who wouldn’t be naturally suspicious of anyone who entered from the one entrance to the partitioned out living area that was the insula. They would be watchful for strangers, and he was definitely a stranger.

There were people, mostly women, washing linens, scrubbing them with their brushes, hanging them up on clotheslines to dry, collecting water from the wells, and chopping up pieces of wood. This was an area of daily chores, a place for those who lived here to toil at their work in an open-air and sunny setting. The awnings here were sturdier than outside, but covered less of the area, with a well of sunlight encompassing most of the center of the courtyard.

A man, portly, and short, even for a Venocian, got up from his chair and hurried over.

“Greetings there,” he said, “what is your business here?”

He clutched at a metal chain he wore as jewellery that shimmered like silver. He wore a hat and colourful clothing, it told the tale that he was not like the other rabble, he was a man of wealth.

“I ‘as sent here, from de dock. I need a rent a room.”

“Rent a room? Yeah, I have a couple of rooms that are empty. They’re on the top floor though. How are your legs?”

Juniper made sure to talk slowly, trying his best to enunciate each word. “I have good legs.”

“Alright, the fee’ll be a silver coin every three weeks. Or you can pay by the week, but since we’d be dealing in copper, the exchange is usually at your disadvantage. I suggest paying a silver coin at a time.”

Juniper nodded his agreement. He reached into his pocket and then into the little pouch of coins he carried and removed a silver coin by feeling alone. Then displayed the coin in the palm of his hand.

“By the way, my name is Vasquez. What’s yours?”

“I am Juniper.”

“Come this way Juniper. We need to write this down and make everything official.”

They walked between the people doing their tasks, some of them smiling as they passed, others averting their gaze. They came to a desk in a shaded area. Vasquez wrote some things down on a piece of paper then showed it to Juniper.