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OLD FRYK LED THEM ALL to a hot vent not far from the edge of what he called the quay. Dun and Padg took a brief time to dry themselves, while he talked.
“So any old fool could fathom that you are not from here. And Old Fryk is not just any old fool, eh?”
Dun was starting to guess that the conversation being peppered with “ehs” was some kind of local affectation. He also had the thought that as much as he liked Fryk on first impression, that they should keep themselves to themselves.
“No. We’re from downstream.”
“You’re not river-folk though, eh?”
“No,” Dun said.
“You come here alone?”
“Yes,” Dun said.
“Mmm, well, suit yourself, eh? We all gots secrets to keep. Matter of fact, that's what brings most of us here. Keeping ‘em. Running from ‘em. I reckon you’ll fit right in.”
“Hey, where’s Tali?” Dun whispered across to Padg.
“I’m here,” she said, closer to the waterside than the two of them.
“Are you coming over or do you like being soaked?” Padg said.
“Patience,” Tali said, testily.
“Hey, come away from the edge now, young folk,” Old Fryk said, addressing Tali. “If you fall in, it's only going to cost you another ten tallies for me to fish you out, eh?” He chuckled to himself. “Now. You young folk got a place to stay here? No? I thought not. Well, here is some advice I’ll give you for free. Along the quay from here, about two hundred strides, where the chequer-plate stops, there’s a set of nice chimes. That’s the sign of Madam Bana’s hostel. It’s the quietest, easiest place you’ll find for a new traveler here.”
“Sounds boring,” Padg said.
“I’d have thought you’d had enough excitement for one day,” Tali said.
“Aye,” Fryk said, “and boring is rare and highly sought after in these parts. Like free advice. Now dry up and git! I’ve got a quay to mind.”
They followed Fryk’s instructions til they came to the chimes. They turned toward the sound but instead of a doorway filled with drape or reed door, it was filled with folk. Or a folk. And the largest example that any of them had ever come across. Dun reckoned that this folk-door-person must be as wide as he was tall and a good two heads taller than Ardg from the village.
“It spoke, eh?” A deep voice, calm sounding said. A voice that brooked no argument.
“Eh?” This time more insistent.
“Er, hi,” Dun said. “We were trying to find somewhere to stay?”
Silence.
“Old Fryk sent us.”
“Hmm? Oh.” Then over his mountainous shoulder, he said, “Bana? Madam Bana!”
They heard shuffling from behind him. “Yes?”
From what Dun could guess from voice and scent, Madam Bana and the door were related. Mother and son? Grandmother and grandson? That was hard to tell.
Dun said, “Hello? Madam Bana? Have you lodgings for the night, please? Old Fryk sent us?”
Madam Bana pealed laughter. When she had calmed down, she said, “I’m sorry, dear, we just don’t get many manners here in Lakeside, and here’s me forgetting mine. Its six tallies a night each. Its only straw on the floor, mind, no pallets, but its clean and its safe. A meal at first cycle is three tallies extra. That’s it, take it or leave it.”
“We’ll take it,” Tali said over Dun’s shoulder and handed across a tally stick.
“Good!” Bana said. “Gryk!” The door had a name.
“Weapons!” Gryk said. Then after a brief confused silence. “No one comes in with weapons. Take yours off now.”
“How did he know...” Padg started under his breath.
“Everyone has weapons.” Gryk carried on in his calm monotone. “It’s Lakeside.”
“But how will we know to get them back?” Dun said as politely as he could muster, removing a knife he had strapped to his calf.
“Now there’s the oddest thing, dear, he’s always been able to do that. Give him a sack full of weapons and a week to forget and he never will. He’s never forgotten one, nor yet given one to the wrong owner. Gods know how he does it. This way, dears...” And Madam Bana led the way past Gryk, storing the sack and past the clinking chimes to a warm and cozy interior, smelling faintly of yeast.
They slept soundly for the first time in cycles, and everyone except Dun had fervid dreams. He woke to the smell of something fantastic. Light and sweet and subtle. He found himself dragged from sleep, leaving Padg snoring softly, to the low table in what he assumed was a dining area.
“Good sleep, my pup?” a cheery Madame Bana said.
“Yes, thank you,” Dun said.
“And what do we have planned today? I presume you’re travelers?”
“Oh, I hadn’t really thought,” Dun said, sidestepping to not reveal too much.
“Oh, do tuck in, by the way. The hubbou is fresh made this morning.”
Hubbou turned out to be a beautiful, fresh, fluffy substance with a slightly crunchy outside. He fell on it like a starveling.
When Tali and Padg woke and joined him, all that could be heard from Dun was the scraping of stylus on parchment.
“Hey.”
Tali and Padg joined the food, greeted Dun, and then briefly joined the Hubbou induced silence.
“Where would you go to find someone, Madame Bana?” Tail asked when their host’s smell filled the doorway.
“Why, dear, is someone lost?”
“No, not really, but it would be good to know where he is.”
“He, hmm?”
“Oh, not that kind of he.”
“Oh?”
“No.”
“Well, then. The best place to find someone who’s lost, or not lost, around here, would be the Bocado.”
“Where’s that?” Padg said.
“Oh, it’s in the center of Lakeside, where the Great Throng is,”
“The Great Throng?” Dun said.
“One thing at a time, dear. It’s where the Great Throng is and listen out for the squeak of the doors. The Bocado doors swing all the time, wake and sleep. So many folk, in and out. If you hear them squeak quick and loud though, do be careful to duck.”
“Sorry to interrupt, Madam Bana,” Dun said.
“Such lovely manners. You must be Bridge-folk, eh? Few enough of your kind wash up here. Too busy about your own business and no one else’s, I’m sure. Mmm, and here I am getting all off down a side passage. What was it you were asking me?”
“The Great Throng.”
“Ah, yes. Well, I guess you folk from way down by the Bridge might call it a market, and so might any folk else. And you might be imagining stalls and wares all set out and so. Well, the Great Throng ain’t so much arranged around folk who are laying out their wares and haggling for a fair price for a fair piece of craft. No stalls, or much laid out. More arranged around folk who might want to run away.”
“Oh,” Dun said.
“Mmm,” Madame Bana said, “more racta, dear? I’m making more for myself.”
“No, thank you,” Tali said. “We should be getting on, I think.”
“I don’t need to tell you to be careful, do I, dears?”
