The Chameleon Shop

It had grown too late in the afternoon to set out on their quest. To get to the caves, first they had to travel for a day through the Fire Realm, then another day or so, through the Spirit Lands before they came to Mount Beaton where the gnomes lived. Those tunnels were creepy enough in the daytime, definitely not wise to take them on in the dark.

Betina set up a makeshift tent with sapling branches and some leather-hides near the fire for Kaylee and Jett slept at Kaylee’s feet for added protection.

Willy the monkey did not feel inclined to try to sneak past Jett into the tent, so buttered up Betina with his cute Labrador face until she felt sorry for him and let him into her caravan. She lived to regret that softhearted offer.

The sound of a woman’s screams pierced their ears sharply early the next morning, ripping them from the depths of sleep. The disturbing noise came from the small confines of Betina’s caravan.

Kaylee shot straight up into a sitting position, still half-asleep and gazed around in the dim dawn light, disoriented. ‘Wha...?’ she muttered. She had absolutely no idea where she was.

In the small gap of daylight, which was all she could see through the entrance flap of the tent, Kaylee saw the caravan door burst open and Willy come flying out the door, screeching and flailing comically as he sailed through the air. He could have been hurt in the fall, had he not landed on something large and soft.

Like Jett.

Jett snarled at the monkey in warning, but kindly refrained from eating him. Kaylee grabbed the frightened little fur ball and clutched him to her chest. She looked over to the steps of Betina’s caravan, where the dishevelled gypsy woman stood with hands on hips like a teapot and her hair sticking out all over the place, shining with something that looked very sticky.

‘That little monster!’ She pointed at Willy, ‘Emptied all my herbs all over the place last night and poured honey through my hair! I’m happy to help you Kaylee dear, but keep that animal out of my caravan from now on ... or I’ll ... I’ll ... well I don’t know what I’ll do to him,. But I promise you,’ her high voice dropped menacingly low, ‘he won’t be liking it much!’

Jett thought it best, given recent events, that they skip breakfast and just get on with their journey. Willy, still strongly smelling of honey even though Kaylee had helped wash some of it off, was riding passenger on the kind girl’s shoulder.

They headed towards the Fire Realm’s Viking settlement and could now see the great shadow of the distant Mount Beaton more clearly. There were several wagons, pulled by oxen, making slow progress up the mountainside on a narrow winding road up towards the snow line and the dark gothic castle near its peak.

‘What is that they have in those wagons?’ She asked Jett.

Jett looked up. ‘Oh, that will either be livestock for Wilfrey, or fire-sticks.’

‘Fire-sticks?’

‘Yes, amber coloured things. They use them to start fires. You must have them at home, surely?’

‘Not those, no. But we have something that does the same thing. Where do they get them from?’

‘I believe they chip them from a special rock found somewhere around here. There’s a mine near that volcano at the iron gates.’

Before long, they had reached the village. The grubby main street was lined with several shacks and lean-tos scattered beneath the tightly packed rows of medieval houses. In one of these lean-tos a blacksmith pumped air through a bellows into a forge. The flames roared higher as he heated the sword he was working on. The searing metal glowed orange as he held it up, examining his work.

Kaylee heard the hiss as he dipped the glowing blade in a water barrel and the steam rose up through the thatched roof. He paused to pull a dirty cloth from his leather apron to wipe his sweating brow and frowned at her curiously, as they went by.

It belatedly occurred to her that she had no weapons to defend herself in this strange land. She glanced at the huge Puma-like black cat walking beside her.

Ok, so she might have at least one good way to defend herself, after all.

Wrought-iron braziers, bigger versions of the one her mother had used at home, burned merrily at regular spots all round the village.

Many more vendors from the Fire Realm were selling their wares under these primitive lean-to’s which seemed to be made from poles cut from young trees and covered with some sort of linen cloth, to make a tent. They sold things such as simple, yet functional, dull-coloured clothes and leather slipper-type shoes. There was a stall with large terracotta pottery jugs and bowls.

She smelled a strong ammonia rank scent before she saw the stand where a person was selling skins of things such as goats and other mammals and there was another stand with a stack of large woven baskets.

A gaggle of four white geese honked as they waddled around erratically dodging the feet of villagers in their panic.

Jett’s nose was in the air, sniffing. A fish merchant had a small cart of fresh fish, which Jett deliberately bumped with his hip as they passed, causing a small cascade of slippery fish to slide down the front of the wagon. Jett timed it so perfectly that he neatly caught the cascade with his mouth. Kaylee wondered if he performed this trick every time he passed.

There was also a large stack of wooden barrels of ‘Crystal-Clear Water’ from the ports of the Water Realm. Kaylee knew this because the barrels had those words stamped on the sides of each one. She found it incredibly odd to have to buy such a natural commodity, which was usually free in New Zealand.

Further on down the dusty cobbled street some women and children sat at a wooden table eating bread, cheese and pickle. One of the children seemed very happy playing with her new straw doll.

Kaylee heard a loud cowbell clanging behind them; its echo seemed to bounce off the tall leaning buildings above. She turned to see a farmer shepherding sheep and goats through the village. Several wagons passed along the lovely paved street. Two oxen yoked to one of these were wearing the cowbells she had heard and there was a nanny goat tied to the back of the wagon, trotting along slowly.

’Meh-eh-eh-eh!’It bleated as it passed them and lifted its tail to drop a sprinkle of tiny round black marbles, which looked like raisins.

Another wagon passed from the opposite direction, this one smaller and pulled by a man instead of oxen this time. In the back, there were slatted wooden cages of white chickens, clucking and flapping loose feathers about. Sleeping among the piles of straw on the back, Kaylee noticed a boy with his wide-brimmed hat over his eyes, dozing, his arms beneath his head.

A baker called out ‘fresh bread’, though he needn’t bother, the smell of the freshly baked loaves was very appealing. Her growling stomach and saliva filled mouth were proof of that. It made Kaylee very hungry, but she had no money with which to buy things. In any case, it would have been New Zealand money. She figured they might have a different currency in this place.

Jett and Kaylee passed old-fashioned, dome-shaped beehives, the clever busy wee bugs flying around lazily from flower to flower in the morning sun. Nearby stood a small wagon, which served as a wooden stall, displaying pottery pots of honey as well as some nice beeswax candles. Mum would have dived into those she thought with a pang.

A very large wooden shed housed a carpenter who seemed to be busy fixing wagon wheels and such. He hammered away, clang, clang, plainly too busy to be distracted by the many passers-by.

They eventually neared the centre of the village. Stepping onto the cobblestoned streets of the Fire Realm had felt like walking back in time, hundreds of years. The buildings loomed above them and felt like they leaned in towards each other like the drunken men who frequented the Boars Head Inn.

In the centre of the higglety-pigglety arrangement of medieval houses, which closely resembled a thirteenth century town, stood a wooden clock tower. Kaylee stared in wonder at its face and once again saw the beautiful, white, snowy owl that had flown over them a few days back. He perched near the clock face and his unusually coloured cerulean-blue eyes bored into hers. It made her feel a bit self-conscious. She began to think it was spying on her.

‘I don’t know about you child, but I am famished. Boar’s Head does a nice roast quail, or possibly just fancy chicken, but I’m not particularly choosy this fine morning.’ Jett headed towards the Inn, which had a top floor overhanging the lower one and slatted batons placed artfully around the white plaster of the structure. The Inn was topped off with a thatched roof, which reminded Kaylee of a bad hair style called a bowl-cut.

A fearsome looking wild boar’s head stuck out above the doorway, yellow tusks grimy with dirt from the passing wagons and smoking chimneys and black beady eyes so real, she felt like they followed her as she passed beneath it.

Beside the door, there hung a green wooden sign which said:

BOARS HEAD INN,

NO SHEEP, PIGS OR GOATS ALLOWED,

CHICKENS ARE OK (but they may wind up on your plate)

Kaylee went ahead of Jett, a little unsure in this room crammed with strange people, but feeling safe with the huge black cat. As she passed through the entrance, a rugged man with a leather tunic and big blonde beard stopped her with both palms up and pointed to the sign.

Kaylee read it again and said defiantly, ‘I think you’ll find that the word monkey is not on that sign!’

The rough looking Viking man looked gobsmacked. Women here did not normally talk back. He checked the sign again himself, even though he had seen it every day for years.

‘Hmph!’ He crossed his arms and said, ‘So it appears. Vel zen, I guess I aff to be letting you in. Mind it be-hafes!’

Kaylee walked cautiously into the crowded room, hearing someone greet Jett. ‘Mornin’ Jett.’

‘Morning to you too, Sven,’ Jett replied genially.

’Why do they let you in?’ Kaylee asked the big cat, puzzled.

‘I’m a Messenger Cat, an Ambassador if you will. To be treated with respect of my station. Besides, I could eat them if I chose to.’

’What do you choose to eat then?’ She worried he might eat her if he got hungry, later on.

‘Don’t worry, Kaylee.’ He answered.

Could he read minds?

‘You’re far too important to the Realms to be on my menu. Besides I prefer a nice roast quail.’ He grinned charmingly, displaying those impressive fangs of his, ‘or duck!’

Kaylee stood where she was, unsure where to sit in the crowded room, but Jett seemed to have a favourite spot eyed up in a quiet corner. She followed him and sat down on a wooden bench.

Willy perched on her shoulder, his tiny head flicking back and forth nervously looking around the room.

He saw several customers watching him. One had taken out his knife and was sharpening it, sweeping it back and forth across a stone. The large, hairy man viciously stabbed it into the wooden table and smiled a toothless grin at the monkey in a sinister way. Willy suddenly decided he had better things to do than to keep Kaylee’s shoulder warm and scampered across the flagstone floor and out the open Inn doors.

‘Willy!’ she called out, a little distressed. Jett put his paw on her arm softly and said, ‘Don’t mind him. He will be all right. He’ll find us later on, be assured of that.’

Another man, who had been doing something with a keg when they came in, approached them with a warm greeting. ‘Mornin’ Jett, will it be the usual?’ He was clean-shaven with little hair on his cannonball head, wearing a white apron, which was surprisingly clean.

‘Yes, thanks, Rollo. Better make it three chickens today, as you see I have a guest with me. This is Kaylee,’ Rollo nodded hello to Kaylee, ‘... and we’ll have some bread, a bowl of milk for me and a pint for Kaylee here.’

‘Is that beer?’ Kaylee whispered behind her hand to Jett.

‘Yes dear, is that not what you want?’

‘Ah, I’m not supposed to drink beer.’

‘Oh? In that case, what would you like? Wine? Rum perhaps?’

‘I’m not allowed any of it, but I’ll have a glass of water maybe?’

‘Trust me, dear; the beer is safer than the water, hereabouts.’ He told her quietly as Rollo waited politely for their order.

‘And a half-pint,’ Jett looked sideways at Kaylee, ‘of cider for Kaylee please, that will be all thank you, Rollo.’

The room was rather homely with a big stone fireplace and warm glowing fire in the hearth. Candles flickered in the many candelabras and torches hung from metal brackets on the walls about the room, so it was not as dark as she had thought it would be.

Before long, steaming plates heaped with chicken and bread were carried out by one of the serving girls. She put the larger of the plates down for Jett and the other in front of Kaylee.

In addition, Rollo brought over a big bowl of milk which he placed on the floor beside Jett and a small pewter tankard of cider for Kaylee.

Their meal was most enjoyable after which Kaylee, forgetting briefly where she was, burped loudly ‘RHU-BARB!’ which drew impressed stares from every man in the room. ‘Pardon me,’ she said in embarrassment.

They had nearly cleared their plates, in fact Jett was licking his with his huge pink tongue when Willy came tearing across the floor towards them, a small brown bag in his mouth and shot up Kaylee’s t-shirt before she had time to blink. Outside they could hear shouting and it did not take a genius to tie the two events together.

‘I think it is time we were leaving, young Kaylee. Keep that little cretin tucked up your shirt out of sight for now, there’s a good girl.’

Kaylee thanked the door attendant, Sven, keeping her backpack in front of the wriggling bulge in her shirt. Once they were down the road and away from the village, she stopped, lifted her shirt away from her and shook the monkey until he dropped out on the grass.

It turned out he had stolen a small bag of gold coins from somewhere and she was about to tell him off and suggest taking them back when Jett stopped her.

Frowning at the disgraced primate Jett said, ‘He probably stole it from someone who won it gambling anyhow, if I know that lot. In all truth, it may come in handy in your travels. Tuck it in your bag for now.’