The Promise of the HimalayasChapter 6 — The Man Who Owned Nothing
The city did not become quieter after sunset.
If anything, Bainath seemed to grow more alive.
Lanterns swayed above narrow streets, their warm light spilling over stone walls and wooden balconies. The market was slowly changing its character. Vendors who had spent the afternoon shouting prices were now packing their goods, while others were only just beginning their evening trade.
The smell of roasted grains, hot oil and freshly cooked food drifted through the streets.
Rajula remained on the bridge for a little longer, watching the river move beneath her.
The conversation she had overheard between the palace soldiers kept returning to her mind.
Three marriage proposals.
Three refusals.
And an entire court apparently losing its patience over one prince's decision.
Rajula smiled to herself.
Rajula (thinking): "Either this prince is remarkably stubborn, or the people around him are remarkably annoying."
She rested her arms on the stone railing.
Rajula (thinking): "Perhaps both."
A gust of cold evening air swept across the bridge. She pulled her shawl closer and looked towards the palace one last time.
The palace stood high above the city, its towers silhouetted against the darkening sky. Even from this distance, it looked imposing.
Rajula: "Well, not tonight."
She turned away.
There was still one rather ordinary problem she needed to solve.
She needed somewhere to stay.
Rajula made her way through the southern market, where the streets were slowly emptying.
She had enough money with her to afford a decent room. Her father had made certain of that before she left home. Growing up in a prosperous trading household had taught her the importance of keeping money for emergencies, bargaining properly and never confusing wealth with an excuse to spend carelessly.
She wasn't particularly worried about the cost of a room.
She simply didn't see the point of paying an extravagant price when she hadn't even decided how long she would remain in Bainath.
At the end of a busy street, she found an inn with a wooden sign hanging above its entrance.
Inside, several travellers were eating around low tables. A man behind the counter was speaking with two customers while a young servant carried bowls between the rooms.
Rajula approached.
Rajula: "Do you have a room available?"
Innkeeper: "One room. A small one."
Rajula: "How much?"
The innkeeper named his price.
Rajula considered it.
It wasn't unreasonable. The inn was clean, close to the market and appeared to be well maintained.
Rajula: "What if I stay for several days?"
Innkeeper: "Depends how many."
Rajula: "I haven't decided yet."
Innkeeper: "Then I can't offer a discount."
Rajula smiled politely.
Rajula: "Fair enough. I'll think about it."
The innkeeper nodded and returned to his customers.
Rajula stepped outside.
Rajula (thinking): "There must be somewhere a little less expensive."
She continued down the street, passing a few closed workshops and storage buildings.
The market sounds gradually faded behind her.
Then something clattered.
A wooden object struck the ground with a loud thud.
???: "Magnificent."
Rajula stopped.
Another clatter followed.
???: "Truly. The finest piece of engineering ever produced by human hands."
A pause.
???: "If human hands were particularly incompetent."
Rajula turned towards the sound.
A small workshop stood at the corner of the lane. Its entrance was crowded with wooden wheels, metal scraps and various objects that looked as though they had been abandoned halfway through their creation.
Beside the entrance stood a dwarf.
He was short and sturdy, with broad shoulders and a thick, enormous beard that covered almost his entire lower face. His moustache blended into it, making his mouth difficult to see whenever he spoke. His dark hair was unkempt, and his clothes were practical but untidy, with several small pouches hanging from his belt.
He was examining a wooden contraption with two uneven wheels.
The contraption tipped over.
The dwarf stared at it.
???: "You see? This is why I dislike ambitious objects."
He kicked one of its wheels back into place.
Rajula watched for a moment.
The dwarf noticed her.
???: "You've been standing there for some time."
Rajula: "Not particularly."
???: "Long enough to witness a tragedy."
Rajula glanced at the fallen contraption.
Rajula: "I suppose I have."
???: "A cart. Once full of promise. Now reduced to a pile of wood and disappointment."
Rajula: "Perhaps it was never a very good cart."
The dwarf slowly turned towards her.
His bright eyes narrowed.
Then he laughed.
???: "Ha! At least one person in this city has functioning eyes."
He crouched and began adjusting one of the wheels.
Rajula approached a little.
Rajula: "What is it supposed to do?"
???: "Carry things."
Rajula: "I gathered that."
???: "Then why ask?"
Rajula: "I was wondering whether it had any other talents."
He looked up.
???: "It can fall over."
Rajula laughed.
The dwarf stood, wiping his hands against his clothes.
???: "Kesar."
Rajula: "What?"
Kesar: "My name. Unless you were expecting the cart to introduce itself."
Rajula: "Rajula."
Kesar: "A pleasure."
He glanced at her travelling bundle.
Kesar: "New to Bainath?"
Rajula: "Arrived this evening."
Kesar: "From?"
Rajula: "Darma Valley."
His eyes brightened.
Kesar: "Darma Valley?"
Rajula: "Yes."
Kesar: "You crossed the northern route?"
Rajula: "I did."
Kesar straightened immediately.
Kesar: "Alone?"
Rajula: "With a group of merchants."
Kesar: "Ah. Sensible. The mountains are beautiful, but they have a rather unpleasant habit of killing people who underestimate them."
Rajula: "You sound familiar with them."
Kesar: "I've spent years trying to convince people to trade through the northern passes. Unfortunately, most merchants believe the world ends wherever their own feet are too lazy to travel."
Rajula raised an eyebrow.
Rajula: "And you've travelled there yourself?"
Kesar: "Not as far as I'd like. That's why I ask questions."
He leaned closer.
Kesar: "How was the pass? The snow? The upper trail? Did you encounter any landslides?"
Rajula stared at him.
Rajula: "You ask more questions than the guards at the city gate."
Kesar: "The guards ask questions because they're paid to be suspicious. I ask because I'm curious. There's a difference."
Rajula smiled.
Rajula: "The path was difficult in places, but passable. There was snow near the higher ridge, though the trail was clear enough for experienced travellers. We had to slow down near one stretch, but nothing that stopped us."
Kesar's eyes lit up.
Kesar: "I knew it!"
Rajula: "Knew what?"
Kesar: "I've been telling merchants for weeks that the northern route would remain open longer this year. Nobody believed me."
Rajula: "Perhaps you should have shown them your cart."
Kesar looked at the contraption.
Kesar: "That is unrelated."
Rajula: "Of course."
Kesar began asking about the trading caravans, the condition of the mountain paths and the goods transported through the pass.
Rajula answered what she could.
She found his questions surprisingly knowledgeable. He wasn't merely interested in hearing stories about distant mountains. He wanted to understand the routes, the difficulties faced by travellers and the possibilities for trade.
Rajula: "You trade in northern goods?"
Kesar: "Among other things. Tools, metalwork, household equipment. Whatever people need, and occasionally whatever they don't know they need."
Rajula: "And inventions?"
Kesar: "Especially inventions."
Rajula glanced at the cart.
Kesar followed her gaze.
Kesar: "Don't look at it like that."
Rajula: "Like what?"
Kesar: "Like you're attending its funeral."
Rajula laughed.
Rajula: "I was merely wondering how many people have survived using your inventions."
Kesar: "All of them, so far."
Rajula: "Comforting."
Kesar grinned.
A little later, Kesar dragged the contraption into his workshop.
The place was small, crowded and full of things that seemed to have been collected from several different kingdoms.
Metal tools hung from the walls. Wooden pieces were stacked beneath a counter. Half-finished objects occupied nearly every available surface. There were jars of screws, pieces of rope, broken wheels, small lamps and several devices whose purposes Rajula couldn't begin to guess.
She looked around.
Rajula: "Do you sell all of this?"
Kesar: "Some of it."
Rajula: "And the rest?"
Kesar: "I haven't decided."
Rajula: "You've been deciding for a long time, haven't you?"
Kesar: "A good invention requires patience."
Rajula: "And a good shop requires cleaning."
Kesar looked around.
Kesar: "Cleaning?"
Rajula: "Yes."
Kesar: "What is that?"
Rajula laughed.
Kesar walked behind the counter and picked up a small metal object.
Kesar: "People have become terribly obsessed with appearances."
Rajula: "Is that your excuse for the mess?"
Kesar: "A clean shop doesn't make a man intelligent. A dirty shop doesn't make him foolish."
Rajula: "No, but a dirty shop makes it difficult to find anything."
Kesar: "That's why I remember where everything is."
Rajula pointed at a wooden box.
Rajula: "What's inside that?"
Kesar opened it.
It contained several small metal pieces, a broken spoon and what looked like half a door hinge.
He stared into the box.
Kesar: "I was wondering where those went."
Rajula shook her head, smiling.
Kesar: "Now, tell me something. Why have you come to Bainath?"
Rajula: "Curiosity."
Kesar: "That's a rather broad answer."
Rajula: "It's a rather large city."
Kesar: "Fair enough."
He returned the metal object to the counter.
Kesar: "Planning to stay long?"
Rajula: "For a while, perhaps."
Kesar: "Family knows where you are?"
Rajula: "They know where I intended to go."
Kesar: "Comforting."
Rajula: "You seem very concerned about my family."
Kesar: "Not particularly. I'm concerned about the number of travellers who arrive in a city, spend all their money on a room and then spend the next week complaining about the price of food."
Rajula: "I have enough money."
Kesar: "Good. Then you can afford to ignore my advice."
Rajula: "I was already considering it."
Kesar chuckled.
He then noticed the bundle beside her feet.
Kesar: "Where are you staying?"
Rajula: "I haven't settled on a place yet."
Kesar: "You haven't?"
Rajula: "I found an inn, but I don't particularly want to spend that much every night."
Kesar: "There are cheaper places further south."
Rajula: "I was looking."
He scratched his beard.
Kesar: "I have a room."
Rajula raised an eyebrow.
Rajula: "You do?"
Kesar: "Well, technically, it's a room behind the shop. It's small, and the roof leaks when it rains heavily. But it's dry tonight."
Rajula: "And you offer it to every traveller you meet?"
Kesar: "No."
Rajula: "Then why me?"
Kesar: "You haven't asked me how much my cart costs."
Rajula blinked.
Rajula: "That's your reason?"
Kesar: "Most people ask about the price of everything before they've even understood what they're looking at. You spent ten minutes insulting it instead. That's refreshing."
Rajula laughed.
Rajula: "A very strange standard for choosing guests."
Kesar: "I have a strange shop. It would be dishonest to have ordinary standards."
Rajula considered the offer.
She could return to the inn. She had enough money to pay for a room without difficulty. But Kesar's little shop had caught her interest, and she was curious about the man himself.
Besides, a room behind a merchant's workshop would put her closer to the city's ordinary life than a comfortable inn filled with other travellers.
Rajula: "How much?"
Kesar: "We can discuss that tomorrow. Tonight, you can use it."
Rajula: "I'm not asking for charity."
Kesar: "Neither am I offering it. Consider tonight a favour. If you decide to stay longer, we'll agree on a fair price."
Rajula studied him.
Rajula: "You seem generous."
Kesar: "Don't spread rumours. I have a reputation to maintain."
Rajula smiled.
Rajula: "Fine. Just tonight."
Kesar: "Of course."
He picked up a small oil lamp.
Kesar: "Come along."
The room behind Kesar's shop was not quite what Rajula had imagined.
It was a narrow wooden structure attached to the back of the main building. The floor creaked beneath her feet, and the walls had clearly seen better days. A small window faced a cramped courtyard where a few bundles of firewood were stacked beneath a cloth covering.
Inside were a low wooden bed, a small table, a stool and a chest.
There was also a suspiciously large collection of broken objects in one corner.
Rajula pointed at them.
Rajula: "Are those supposed to be here?"
Kesar: "Yes."
Rajula: "Why?"
Kesar: "Because they're important."
Rajula: "To whom?"
Kesar: "To the future."
Rajula looked at the pile again.
Rajula: "The future looks rather untidy."
Kesar: "It usually does."
He placed the lamp on the table.
Kesar: "You can use the bed. There's a water pot outside, and the market opens early."
Rajula: "And where do you sleep?"
Kesar: "Wherever I happen to be when I become tired."
Rajula: "That's not an answer."
Kesar: "It's the most honest one you'll get."
He pointed towards the shop.
Kesar: "Sometimes there. Sometimes here. Sometimes on the roof."
Rajula: "The roof?"
Kesar: "It's peaceful."
Rajula: "Until it rains."
Kesar: "Then it's educational."
Rajula stared at him for a moment before laughing.
Kesar moved towards the door.
Kesar: "I'll bring you something to eat. There should still be food left from the evening."
Rajula: "You don't have to."
Kesar: "I know."
He left before she could argue.
Rajula stood in the middle of the little room, listening to the muffled sounds of the shop outside.
It wasn't a palace.
It wasn't even a proper inn.
But it had a bed, a roof and a door that closed.
For the first time since entering Bainath, she could finally relax.
She placed her bundle beside the bed and sat down.
The journey had been longer than she had expected. Her legs ached, her shoulders were sore, and she had spent the evening trying to understand a city that seemed to have its own language, rhythm and rules.
She looked towards the window.
Somewhere beyond the crowded rooftops stood the palace.
The prince lived there.
Rajula smiled faintly.
Rajula (thinking): "Tomorrow, perhaps."
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
Kesar entered carrying a small plate of food and a cup of warm water.
Kesar: "Here."
Rajula: "Thank you."
She looked at the plate.
It contained a few pieces of bread, cooked lentils and some vegetables.
Rajula: "You didn't have to bring me food as well."
Kesar: "I know. You keep telling me that."
Rajula smiled.
Kesar: "Eat while it's warm. Cold food is one of the few things in this world that deserves to be disliked."
Rajula: "And what about dishonest merchants?"
Kesar: "They deserve something considerably worse."
Rajula laughed quietly.
Kesar lingered near the doorway.
Kesar: "One thing, though."
Rajula looked up.
Kesar: "Don't wander too far into the city alone at night. The main streets are fine, but some of the smaller lanes can be confusing."
Rajula: "I can take care of myself."
Kesar: "I don't doubt it."
He scratched his beard.
Kesar: "But even the cleverest traveller can get lost. The city doesn't become smaller just because you refuse to admit you're lost."
Rajula: "I'll remember."
Kesar nodded.
Kesar: "And if you need anything, the shop is right outside."
Rajula: "Thank you, Kesar."
He gave her a brief wave and disappeared.
Rajula ate slowly, enjoying the warmth of the food.
For a girl who had travelled all the way from the mountains with an old promise in her heart, the little room felt unexpectedly comforting.
Meanwhile, high above the city, the palace had settled into its own evening routine.
The lamps in the corridors were being replaced. Servants moved quietly between rooms, carrying folded garments and covered trays. A few officials were still gathered in one of the administrative chambers, their voices occasionally rising above the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.
Prince Malushahi had not yet retired.
He sat beside a low table, reading a report brought to him earlier that evening.
Across from him stood one of his attendants.
Attendant: "The western merchants have requested another audience, Your Highness."
Malushahi: "For what purpose?"
Attendant: "They wish to discuss the duties imposed on their goods."
Malushahi: "Have their accounts been examined?"
Attendant: "Yes, Your Highness."
Malushahi: "Then arrange a meeting tomorrow. I will hear their concerns."
The attendant bowed.
Attendant: "And the matter of the marriage proposal?"
Malushahi didn't immediately look up.
Malushahi: "Has there been another message?"
Attendant: "The ministers are asking whether Your Highness intends to reconsider."
Malushahi turned a page.
Malushahi: "No."
The attendant hesitated.
Attendant: "They are concerned that repeated refusals may offend the families involved."
Malushahi: "Then they should explain that the refusal was mine, not theirs."
Attendant: "Your Highness..."
Malushahi finally looked at him.
Malushahi: "I will not accept a marriage simply because the ministers are tired of discussing the matter."
The attendant lowered his head.
Attendant: "As you wish."
He withdrew.
Malushahi returned to his report.
Beyond the palace walls, the city continued to glow beneath the night sky.
He had no reason to think that anything unusual had happened that evening.
He did not know that a traveller from the northern mountains had arrived in Bainath.
He did not know that she had already heard about his refusals.
And he certainly did not know that she had found herself a temporary home in the back room of a merchant who spent his evenings arguing with broken inventions.
For now, their worlds remained separate.
Back behind the shop, Rajula finished her meal and placed the empty plate aside.
She lay down, staring at the wooden ceiling.
Tomorrow, she would explore the city properly.
She would learn its streets, its markets and its people. She would find out more about the palace, too.
There was no need to hurry.
After all, she had travelled this far.
A few more days would hardly matter.
Rajula (thinking): "A prince who refuses three marriage proposals..."
She turned onto her side, smiling.
Rajula (thinking): "I wonder what sort of person he is."
Outside, Kesar was still awake.
A faint metallic clanging came from the workshop, followed by a muffled curse.
Kesar: "Oh, come on. You were working perfectly yesterday."
A pause.
Kesar: "Actually, no. You weren't."
Another clatter.
Kesar: "Useless piece of wood."
Rajula covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.
She had known the man for barely an hour.
Somehow, she already suspected that staying in Bainath would be rather interesting.
And in the little room behind the shop, Rajula's first night in the capital finally came to an end.
For the first time in many days, she had a place to sleep.
Tomorrow, the city would begin to feel a little less unfamiliar.