Summer, 1234, City of Sem capital of the Sem'He-Too Coalition (Location OTL Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada)
The port bustled with the sound of commerce, boats setting sail and docking, arguing, shrieking birds and beasts of burden. The cool sea breeze was heavily laden with salt, which helped to blow some of the stench of rotting fish, unwashed bodies and raw sewage away from the docks. Unni watched the Cold people, one of the two people that inhabited the land as they worked at unloading the tons of iron that filled the hold of his cog. Their high pitched cries sounded like women shrieking in fright, and made the Norseman want to wince in pain.
Of course he wouldn't let the labourers know of his discomfort. The nearly naked Cold men were almost casually lifting the boxes of iron ingots two at a time. In Sweden, the labourers had handled a single box in pairs. But a look at their faces proved they were no ordinary men. They were as white as a Norseman, but their stout bodies were built like a barrel, with arms as large around as most peoples legs. The faces were the strangest, the large nose, heavy brow and a chin like a frog, in all of his travels Unni had never seen a people more ugly. But by God they were strong.
A fat figure waved at him through the crowd. Unni put a scowl on his face, mostly for show and strode towards the trader.
“T'uhst!” he bellowed in the local trade language. “Where is the elephant wool and ivory that was suppose to be waiting for me? Do you expect me to wait at this fly infested harbour when I could be sailing back home?”
The fat man calmly smoothed his straight black hair. “Trader Unni, there was a delay. Please be patient my colleague is bringing the wagons here now. You're ship is still being unloaded so their is no reason to worry about this minor delay. Please join me for a drink, maybe some women as well?” the trader said, a smile turning his usual dour expression friendly.
“Fine, I've waited here two days waiting for you a drink is necessary. But none of those Cold women, I want a normal girl,” he said, glaring at the mans tan coloured face.
“Of course. The Cold women have some redeeming features, but like you I prefer a woman who can't break my arm,” he replied. “The best establishment is quite far, We'll go by wagon.”
T'usht weaved his way through the crowd waving his ornate traders cane to help clear a path. The labourers, passerby's and lesser traders made way for him grudgingly with much cursing, when they saw the large, heavily bearded Norseman they hastily stepped aside. Neither the Cold People or the Quick People had much facial hair. Seeing the thick red mane was quite shocking for most of them.
The wagon was waiting for them at the High Street. It was fairly ornate, made out of ornately carved wood with silver and copper inlay depicting snarling animals. Wooden pegs kept it together, with some copper nails at key places. Two hairy elephants, the size of large cows were harnessed to it.
A teenager, a Quick Person like T'usht, placed a stool at the back of the wagon to help the two men up. They sat on plain wooden benches while the young man clambered up into the drivers seat. With a flick of a whip that elicited a loud trumpet of protest from one of the hairy elephants, the wagon started moving with a lurch.
The High Street was virtually deserted compared to the docks. The High Street went through the heart of the city and only people with status could use it. The poorer classes could cross it at certain points, but any poor person caught walking without an escort was going to be beaten. Well armed Cold people along with some Quick people patrolled the street looking quite menacing in black leather armour and bronze spears.
“Unni my friend I have some interesting news for you,” T'usht said.
The Norseman looked at him questioningly.
“A strange ship was in port last month. They had a Hairy person like yourself as a slave who could speak Sem,” he said.
Unni's eyes went wide, “Where did they come from?”
“They said a name that sounded like Olans, Orlens. Something like that,” the trader said.
“Orleans,” Unni said, his hands tightened into fists.
“That was it,” he said smiling. “They had quite a lot of weapons, wine and glass for trading.”
Trying to control his voice Unni asked, “Did they have much luck?”
“Oh yes. They were quite happy to trade for our elephant wool, ivory and fur. There was little of the brawling and complaining that most traders get up to,” T'usht said blandly.
Unni didn't respond to the thinly veiled insult. The Norsemen had controlled the trade between Europe and Vestrland for the last hundred years. The people had needed iron, glass, linen, and many other things so badly they had offered vast riches. The Norse had used their stranglehold on the supply to the fullest advantage. If the trader was telling the truth that monopoly was about to end.
As the trader spoke on about inconsequential things, the Norseman planned. Orleans and its allies would have to pay for this transgression.
The port bustled with the sound of commerce, boats setting sail and docking, arguing, shrieking birds and beasts of burden. The cool sea breeze was heavily laden with salt, which helped to blow some of the stench of rotting fish, unwashed bodies and raw sewage away from the docks. Unni watched the Cold people, one of the two people that inhabited the land as they worked at unloading the tons of iron that filled the hold of his cog. Their high pitched cries sounded like women shrieking in fright, and made the Norseman want to wince in pain.
Of course he wouldn't let the labourers know of his discomfort. The nearly naked Cold men were almost casually lifting the boxes of iron ingots two at a time. In Sweden, the labourers had handled a single box in pairs. But a look at their faces proved they were no ordinary men. They were as white as a Norseman, but their stout bodies were built like a barrel, with arms as large around as most peoples legs. The faces were the strangest, the large nose, heavy brow and a chin like a frog, in all of his travels Unni had never seen a people more ugly. But by God they were strong.
A fat figure waved at him through the crowd. Unni put a scowl on his face, mostly for show and strode towards the trader.
“T'uhst!” he bellowed in the local trade language. “Where is the elephant wool and ivory that was suppose to be waiting for me? Do you expect me to wait at this fly infested harbour when I could be sailing back home?”
The fat man calmly smoothed his straight black hair. “Trader Unni, there was a delay. Please be patient my colleague is bringing the wagons here now. You're ship is still being unloaded so their is no reason to worry about this minor delay. Please join me for a drink, maybe some women as well?” the trader said, a smile turning his usual dour expression friendly.
“Fine, I've waited here two days waiting for you a drink is necessary. But none of those Cold women, I want a normal girl,” he said, glaring at the mans tan coloured face.
“Of course. The Cold women have some redeeming features, but like you I prefer a woman who can't break my arm,” he replied. “The best establishment is quite far, We'll go by wagon.”
T'usht weaved his way through the crowd waving his ornate traders cane to help clear a path. The labourers, passerby's and lesser traders made way for him grudgingly with much cursing, when they saw the large, heavily bearded Norseman they hastily stepped aside. Neither the Cold People or the Quick People had much facial hair. Seeing the thick red mane was quite shocking for most of them.
The wagon was waiting for them at the High Street. It was fairly ornate, made out of ornately carved wood with silver and copper inlay depicting snarling animals. Wooden pegs kept it together, with some copper nails at key places. Two hairy elephants, the size of large cows were harnessed to it.
A teenager, a Quick Person like T'usht, placed a stool at the back of the wagon to help the two men up. They sat on plain wooden benches while the young man clambered up into the drivers seat. With a flick of a whip that elicited a loud trumpet of protest from one of the hairy elephants, the wagon started moving with a lurch.
The High Street was virtually deserted compared to the docks. The High Street went through the heart of the city and only people with status could use it. The poorer classes could cross it at certain points, but any poor person caught walking without an escort was going to be beaten. Well armed Cold people along with some Quick people patrolled the street looking quite menacing in black leather armour and bronze spears.
“Unni my friend I have some interesting news for you,” T'usht said.
The Norseman looked at him questioningly.
“A strange ship was in port last month. They had a Hairy person like yourself as a slave who could speak Sem,” he said.
Unni's eyes went wide, “Where did they come from?”
“They said a name that sounded like Olans, Orlens. Something like that,” the trader said.
“Orleans,” Unni said, his hands tightened into fists.
“That was it,” he said smiling. “They had quite a lot of weapons, wine and glass for trading.”
Trying to control his voice Unni asked, “Did they have much luck?”
“Oh yes. They were quite happy to trade for our elephant wool, ivory and fur. There was little of the brawling and complaining that most traders get up to,” T'usht said blandly.
Unni didn't respond to the thinly veiled insult. The Norsemen had controlled the trade between Europe and Vestrland for the last hundred years. The people had needed iron, glass, linen, and many other things so badly they had offered vast riches. The Norse had used their stranglehold on the supply to the fullest advantage. If the trader was telling the truth that monopoly was about to end.
As the trader spoke on about inconsequential things, the Norseman planned. Orleans and its allies would have to pay for this transgression.
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