"There was a musical graveyard behind it, including a skinless drum, a set of Lancre bagpipes without the pipes, and a single maraca, possibly for use by a Zen flamenco dancer." - Soul Music, Terry
Gourry was bored. He slouched down on the sofa and put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Lina and Amelia were busy with last minute preparations for the reception tonight and there was nothing for him to do until it was time to start getting ready - which was still several hours away. Why it was taking the girls so long to get ready, he didn't know, nor did he want to. All his clothes had been fitted, delivered, refitted and were hanging in a safe spot in the wardrobe. All he needed to do was get dressed and he was ready. But the girls had said they had last minute fittings, facials, hot soaks, hair to wash, dry, set and style...He shook his head in bewilderment. He would have gone down to the practice yard to exercise, but he'd been forbidden to step foot in there for the rest of the day. He just wanted something to do and sitting here staring at the ceiling wasn't it. With a lurch, he pushed himself up, went over to the wardrobe, pulled out his armor and strapped it on. Maybe he'd go for a walk. The swordbelt went around his waist and he adjusted the hang of the sword at his hip then headed out.
He was nearly to the door when he stopped and turned. He hurried back into the bedroom and found his pack. Digging into the bottom, in a special waterproof pouch sewn into the lining of the pack, he pulled out a small leather-bound book. It was a journal of sorts that his grandmother had given him when he'd left home, but he rarely used it save for important things that he didn't want to forget. He'd write them down in this book so he didn't have to remember them. Things like birth anniversaries for members of his family that he hadn't seen for years, an eclectic collection of dates of important things that had happened to him. The latest entry to that list was his marriage to Lina.
As he flipped through the pages an envelope slipped out from between the leaves. Gourry snatched it out of the air before it could fall more than a few inches. Grinning, he turned it over and opened it. He pulled out the iconograph that was nestled safely inside and looked at it. It was of him and Lina done sometime during their early travels together; he forgot exactly where. Probably Atlas City. Lina was sitting on his shoulder grinning like a maniac and holding his Sword of Light over her shoulder. His grin widened as he remembered how she used to pester him for his sword. At first it was irritating, but it came to be a running joke between the two of them.
Carefully opening the envelope, he put the iconograph back inside and found something he'd forgotten about. Reaching inside, he pulled out a long lock of red hair tied up with a bit of black cording. He let the lock of hair fall over his fingers, his smile turning soft. If Lina knew he had this - or knew how long he'd had it - she'd probably throw a fit. Shaking his head and laughing ruefully, he tucked his treasure back into the envelope, folded the flap down so it was inside and placed it carefully back into his book.
Turning the other pages, he finally found what he'd come looking for. Going into the main sitting room, he grabbed a leaf of paper off the stack near Lina's research, found a quill and quickly scribbled down a couple lines, snapped the book shut and took it back to store neatly in his pack. Folding the paper carefully, he left the suite.
Outside in the corridor, he turned to the right which would take him towards the main body of the palace. Zelgadis' rooms were just up from his and Lina's. He stopped at the door and knocked. A voice told him to enter. Pushing open the door, he looked around. The place looked empty. "Zel?" he called.
"Over here, Gourry," Zelgadis said from the direction of the fireplace. Gourry saw a raised hand over the edge of the sofa that quickly disappeared. As he approached, Gourry saw the Chimera was slouched as low on the sofa as he could go without slipping off. His head was pillowed on several cushions and his eyes were closed. He looked...annoyed, but that was how Zelgadis always looked.
"Is this a good time?" Gourry asked, taking a seat nearby.
Zelgadis waved a hand non-commitally. "If you're here about anything other than that damn reception tonight, it's a good time. If not, then go away."
"You nervous, too?" the blonde swordsman asked.
Slitting one eye open, Zel glared at Gourry. "Oh, no, I'm not nervous. I just love large crowds of people that will be gawking at me, sizing me up and jumping to all sorts of erroneous conclusions while putting me under a microscope. I just love the fact that they're going to want to 'approve' me before Amelia and I are married. Like I'm a side of beef that needs to be inspected and graded before it's ready to go to market."
The sarcasm was lost on Gourry, whether deliberately or not, Zelgadis couldn't tell. "Tell them it's not their decision to make," the swordsman said. "If you and Amelia want to get married - "
"It's not as easy as that," Zel said, sitting up. "Amelia is the Crown Princess, the Royal Heir. Things have to be done a certain way so as to not upset the system. It's a lot of political hoo-haw."
Gourry's face went blank. "I don't understand politics. I don't like politicians, either. Er, well, except for Amelia," he added apologetically.
Smiling sardonically, Zel said, "Don't worry. Amelia has a very straightforward view to politics, a very refreshing one, too." He leaned back and looked at the swordsman. "So, did you want anything in particular or were you just passing?"
"What? Oh, yeah." Gourry leaned forward and rested his elbows on this knees. "I was wondering if you would help me, Zel."
"Help you? With what?"
"Well," the other began nervously. "Lina and I were married in kind of a hurry, you know. I didn't have time to get her anything special - "
"And you want me to help you pick something out. Look, Gourry - "
"No," Gourry interrupted. "Actually, I was just wondering if you knew where this place was." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper. He handed it to Zelgadis who opened it and read it.
"Number 200 Street of Cunning Artificers? Yeah, I know where it is; it's off the marketplace." He handed the slip back. "Why do you want to know?"
"It's a shop run by a friend of my family's and I can probably get a good price on something nice there. Could you tell me how to get there?"
Zel looked at the tall man a moment then grinned. "I'll do better than that; I'll show you. If only to get out of the palace for a couple hours and to see who this 'friend' is." He rose and went over to the coat stand and grabbed his cloak and sword. "Let's go."
Gourry jumped up. "Thanks, Zel!" This was better than getting directions, because now he was certain he wouldn't get lost.
The marketplace of Seyruun was one of the most unusual places in the world. Merchants from all over the continent came here to hawk their wares. Which in turn brought people from all over to buy those wares. There were even more now that the barrier that had kept this part of the world isolated from the rest had fallen. Zelgadis recognized people from the great deserts to the south, and there were even one or two from even further. All this commerce and monetary exchange was good for Seyruun's economy.
Zelgadis noticed these things and others, such as how there seemed to be more guards around than in any other city he had visited. In addition, there were state-employed wizards who were positioned in certain areas that were constantly casting spells that discouraged pickpocketing and other forms of theft. You could be pretty certain of your personal and monetary safety while in Seyruun's huge marketplace.
Gourry just gawked. It still amazed him that so many people of different races and cultures could be in the same place at the same time. Even Sairaag had never been this big. The press of people, especially at this time of day, would have been overwhelming if he hadn't been so tall. As it was, an otherwise impassable aisle or lane suddenly became passable when he appeared. It didn't matter to him whether it was because he stood on average a head taller than most people, the armor he wore, the huge sword, the muscles in his arms that testified that he knew how to use it, or a combination of all these; he just knew that it made life easier for him and whatever companions happened to be with him.
Sticking close to the warrior's side, Zelgadis was grateful for the tall swordsman's effect. This many people around him still made him jumpy even though he'd been here for several months already. Not having to actually shove his way through the crowds made things bearable.
They pushed through the main crowds and towards the cramped little lanes that bordered the huge market square and its transient stalls and booths, lined with shops run by men and women with skills that ranged from ordinary to the extraordinary. A watchmaker's shop squatted close upon a Shamanist's shop where you could get amulets made for a small fee; a jeweler shared a storefront with a fortune teller.
Spotting the narrow lane he was looking for, Zelgadis put his hand on Gourry's shoulder. "Here," he said, gesturing towards the mouth of the twisted street. A small plaque embedded on the wall declared this to be the "Street of Cunning Artificers."
Gourry pulled out his slip of paper and consulted it. "Number 200," he said. He peered at the nearest door - that of the watchmaker. "Number 101," he read as he led the way down the nearly deserted lane.
If Seyruun's marketplace has been unusual, the Street of Cunning Artificers was downright weird. The shops seemed smaller and more cramped than ever, and had a...twisted feel to them. The lane itself meandered, something quite unusual for this city of straight roads and angles. The storefronts looked almost gloomy and Zel found himself pulling his cloak closer around his shoulders against a sudden chill. He wondered how the swordsman could remain unaffected - and then remembered who it was he was thinking about. Nothing affected Gourry - if it did, you'd best be running for your life. Gourry simply didn't have enough of an imagination to get spooked by a storefront whose darkened windows and doorway looked suspiciously like a human skull...
Wincing at the unkind thought (and the image his own imagination had supplied), Zelgadis berated himself. Gourry was a good man, if a trifle...simple. He watched his friend peering at the numbers on the doors. Looking further along the lane, Zelgadis saw a darkened doorway and headed for it. The little plaque on the doorway was nearly black with tarnish but proudly told the world that this was, in fact, Number 200 Street of Cunning Artificers. "Found it," he called to Gourry over his shoulder, and pushed open the door. A bell overhead tinkled.
He stepped into the dark shop and was immediately struck by a noisome mixture of dust, garlic, other unidentifiable herbs, perfumes and scents, dryrot, and an overall stuffiness to the place. Glancing around, he realized this was some sort of rummage shop; indeed the sign over the counter declared that anything could be bought, traded or sold - for the right price.
He felt someone pushing past him and stepped further into the shop. The tall blonde man squeezed into the shop, ducking to avoid a nasty confrontation with a stuffed alligator that was hanging from the ceiling. Zelgadis stared at it. Why would anyone want a stuffed alligator and why would they hang it from the ceiling? He shook his head and huffed in total bafflement. He moved along to join Gourry at the counter.
"Hello?" Gourry called into the dimness beyond the curtain that separated the back of the store from the front. "Anyone there?"
There was a shuffling from behind the curtain. "What? You don't have to shout - " The grumpy voice fell silent as the owner lifted the curtain and looked up at Gourry. "Wait a minute. I know you, don't I? You're Raudy Gabriev's grandson." Gourry nodded and held out his hand. The old man took it and shook it warmly. "Why I haven't seen you since you were...that small." He gestured somewhere towards the area of his knees. "And now look at you. Has it really been so long?"
"Wait a minute," Zelgadis said, holding up a hand and forestalling Gourry's response. "You - " he pointed at the proprietor.
"Jardaan," the old man supplied.
"Jardaan, are an elf."
"Why, yes, I do believe I am." Jardaan looked at Zelgadis as if he were daft.
"But didn't think elves lived anywhere but Mipross!" the Chimera stammered.
Jardaan looked at Gourry before he said, "Oh, there are still a few of us about."
Zelgadis transferred his bemused stare to Gourry. "He's a friend of your family's?"
"A friend of his grandfather's, to be more precise," Jardaan said before Gourry could respond. "I knew Raudy when he was only a boy. That was years ago, however." He left Zelgadis with that and turned back to Gourry. "What can I do for you today, young Gourry?"
Zelgadis shook his head and wandered off as Gourry started explaining why they were there. An elf, a friend to the Gabrievs. He suddenly realized just how little he really knew about the swordsman, even after all the years he'd known him. Maybe he should make a point of changing that.
With that thought, he spotted a row of books and pulled one down. He was always on the lookout for any magical texts that might prove useful. What he found here, however, was collection of brittle pages slowly turning to dust, worms that had eaten away most of the spines on one book, and nothing but a bunch of deluded ramblings under the collective titled of The Mrin Codex. Sighing with disgust, he put the book back on shelf and wiped his fingers on his cloak. A flash of light caught his eye and he froze. Turning, he spotted a collection of musical instruments on a shelf. Wandering over, he saw two in particular that seemed to draw his eye. One was a golden harp, carved to resemble a dragon's head with it's jaws open. The strings were threaded between the upper and lower jaws. The eyes were inlaid with some sort of jewel that sparkled at him. It was the other one, though, that mesmerized him. It looked like a guitar, but it had no sounding box and wires where there should have been strings. Instead, the base was a solid piece of wood, strangely shaped, too. Guitars were rounded; this had points on But it looked like a guitar...
He noted there was a tag attached to it and he picked it up thinking it was a price tag. Instead, he found a crude '1' written in chalk on it. Weird. He looked at the guitar again; he was curiously drawn to it, like it wanted him to pick it up. He could hear the wires vibrate as his hand drifted closer to the neck -
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said at his elbow. Zelgadis started violently, jerking back as if he'd been burnt. He blinked at Jardaan, who had insinuated himself between the shelf and Zelgadis.
"Uh, what?" he asked feeling rather stupid.
"World's not ready for rock music quite yet - if ever," Jardaan said as he picked up the guitar. He glanced up at Zelgadis and blushed. "Sorry. No offense. I'll just put this somewhere where it won't get into any trouble," he said and disappeared behind the curtain.
Shaking his head to clear it, Zelgadis wandered over to see what Gourry was up to. The swordsman was looking through a tray of exquisitely designed jewelry. The Chimera could tell they were all of either elven or dwarven craftsmanship. Gourry sighed. "What's the problem?" Zel asked. Somehow, he'd known he was going to end up helping Gourry pick something out something for Lina.
"I don't know what she'd like," the swordsman said. "She can have anything she wants and goes through things like this like water," he said. It was true; she would keep one or two pieces from their raids on bandits and sell the rest. Whenever she tired of one thing, she'd replace it with something else. Gourry idly pushed the items around on the black velvet tray in front of him.
The chimera smiled. "But this would be different, Gourry. How often do you give her something?" he asked.
"Well...Not very often," he admitted. "But nothing like this."
"Coming from you would make whatever you picked out special. It would mean more to her than just finding something she likes in a bandit's loot, right?"
Gourry's face lit up. "Yeah! It would!" He looked down at the tray with more interest. After sorting through the many fine pendants, brooches, combs, bracelets and rings, he came across a pair of matching wide gold bands. They were carved with a striking pattern of complex knots on the outside and had been antiqued to show off the delicate carving. Inside there was an inscription written in some ornate alphabet. "Can you read this?" he asked Zel, holding up the larger of the two rings.
"Let's see," Zel said as he took the ring and peered inside, turning the ring this way and that. "I can't quite make it out," he said, taking it over to the lamp and holding it under the shade for better light.
"You wouldn't be able to," Jardaan said from behind him. "It's ancient Elven and translates as 'From my heart to yours.'"
Zelgadis handed the ring back to Gourry. "There you go," he said.
"Are you considering this ring?" Jardaan asked Gourry.
The tall man considered a moment before nodding. "It's nice; I think Lina will like it. How much?"
"How much do you have?" the shopkeeper asked with a twinkle in his eye.
Gourry was about to answer when Zel coughed as if clearing his throat and looked at Gourry significantly. Catching on, Gourry turned back to Jardaan. "Tell me how much you want for it and we'll discuss the price."
Laughing softly, Jardaan leaned on the counter. "It's a good thing you have your friend here or I would have taken you for everything you have." He pulled out a small black box from under the counter and opened it. He put both rings inside, put the lid back on and handed the box to Gourry. "Take them. They're yours."
Staring, Gourry shook his head. "I couldn't do that!"
"You can and you will. Consider it my wedding present to my friend's grandson. And they're a matched set; I can't sell the one without the other, so you have to take both." He took Gourry's hand and put the box in it and closed the swordsman's long fingers over it. "Wear them in good health and always let them remind you of the commitment you've made to one another. When you get a chance, bring your new wife here to meet me."
"I'll do that," Gourry said with a nod and a genuinely grateful smile. "Thank you."
Jardaan waved him off. "Go on," he said. "If you don't hurry, you'll be late for your reception."
Zel started. "Oh, Ceiphied!" he said and grabbed Gourry's arm. "If we're late, Amelia will kill me!" He yanked Gourry out of the shop with a wave and a quick "Bye!"
The two men ran all the way back to the palace, the crowds scattering like birds before the sight of two armed men rushing headlong through the marketplace. They made it back to the palace just as their assigned valets turned down the hallway and met them. The two men separated and each escorted by a valet, went to be subjected to the tender mercies of Philionel's valets.