Edges of the Map: Part 1 - Newcomers

This is the first installment in my new short story series (more like a book broken into segments) called "Edges of the Map". It follows the story of a group of people who meet through very unlikely circumstances and journey to the edges of the map and beyond. A few things (OK, a lot of things) have changed since my last post on this subject, so I hope you enjoy.

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Ashe wove in between the tightly packed crowds in the streets of Clagton. His caretaker, Edward Butterworth, needed some carrots, onions, potatoes, a bag of flugar and some lubricant. The young boy of about thirteen dodged donkeys, horses and Clagtowners who had eaten one too many sugarpies in their life with the nimbleness and speed that only accompanies years of living in one place.

With a glance down the street, Ashe came to a sudden halt. Bumping our the road and scattering pedestrians a horseless wagon rolled down the street. Ashe had heard of these machines which were common on the mainland but still and rare sight in Clagton. Furiously, a man, or the driver, pedaled with great effort and the gears and cogs inside the vehicle magnified his energy and powered the wheels. Ashe was thoroughly thrilled. After the unwieldy contraption passed, the curious boy continued his errand.

Conveniently for Ashe, Clagton's Central Market was conjoined to the seaport. Even though Ashe knew Mr. Butterworth needed the groceries soon, he still wanted to go down to the docks and talk with the sailors that came on ships about ever other day. Clagtown was not a bustling metropolis, but it was not a remote village, either. So even though the city of exactly nine-hundred ninety-two permanent residents was always busy, large trade ships did not visit the island which Clagton was built on with overwhelming frequency.

Before Ashe loaded himself with the supplies Mr. Butterworth needed, he paid a visit to the docks. A small ship had put into port just that morning, and he wanted to see who had arrived. Usually small ships like this one carried passengers instead of cargo, and forgetting his errand with his usually carelessness he hoped he could make some money helping to unload the passengers' luggage. Ashe spotted a girl of about fourteen or fifteen getting ready to disembark. As she saw that Ashe was coming toward her ship, a look of dismay crossed her face.

"Greetings! Could I help you unload your things for a small wage?" asked the eager boy. It was not often that he got to make some money unloading cargo. When the girl realised he was only looking for a job, she seemed relieved.

"I'm sorry, but we have no thing for you to unload or money with which to pay you." replied the girl with an elegance in her voice Ashe had never heard.

"Aren't you passengers? You must have something of yours. You can't be a sailor, you're a girl." Ashe questioned further

"Well I am a sailor. This man here" she pointed to a burly, lightly bearded man that had just appeared "has taken me on as a cook." Ashe envied the girl who was able to sail the open seas while he was stuck on dry land.

"Could I help you?" called the man from the deck.

"Well, I was wondering if you could hire me to help unload or something."

The man thought for a moment, "Let's see, we just bought some juneberry starch from the mainland to sell here. You can help us unload that." After agreeing on a price of 3 coins for every sack he unloaded, Ashe boarded the ship. "My name is Jack and this is my nephew Isaac. You can help Isaac, my brother and I unload the starch from down below." While the sun rose higher, Ashe's separate pile of juneberry starch sacks did not seem to grow nearly as fast as the other pile. They finally finished about noon.

"Thank you very much." Ashe said as he excepted his pay.

"Thank you." complemented Jack. "Say, do you know of a good place to stay. We're quite tired of the cramped quarters on the ship."

"I live in the upstairs part of a hotel that a friend of my caretaker owns. It's the best inn in the whole city." replied the exhausted boy, although his maple brown eyes twinkled.

While the girl Ashe had first talked to and her mother carted the juneberry starch to the market Ashe led the men through Clagton towards the inn - Fredrik's Inn, to be exact. The smells of refuse, perfume and fruit was quite confusing to anyone's nose. Eventually they reached the Inn. In the main room men talked and ate, and the newcomers were warmly welcomed. Fredrik, the inn keeper, ruffled Ashe's sandy, curly yellow hair and turned to the men. They soon struck up a conversation.

"Did you know that a man has actually been able to turn metals into gold! As soon as word got out, the king had him taken into custody and now he's locked away." gossiped Fredrik.

"No, I didn't know that. We just arrived. But I do believe that is quite an injustice. Why, the man might not have even been able to do such a thing. Personally I think it's impossible, but to be locked away in the royal dungeon just for that? He deserves to be liberated." Jack's sister, Martha, added her opinion, to which her brother's agreed.

"Say, Isaac, could you go to the market and retrieve Mrs. Staben and her daughter; the ones we took on as cooks?" commissioned Cynwreg, Jack's brother. With a dawn of remembrance, Ashe decided to go with him to show him the way, and complete his original errand.

"So how have you come to Clagton?" questioned Fredrik.

"Well, we've been sailing for quite some time. We're just a family without a country. Our name is the Hawkins, by the way. We sail to towns like these and stay for a week or two to gather supplies and make friends. Then we set sail again." replied Jack.

With that the Hawkins began their several week stay in Clagton. Ashe soon became friends with Isaac, who was about seventeen, very strong, with a gentle disposition and brown hair with green eyes.

In those weeks many things happened to Ashe, Mr. Butterworth and the Hawkin's which would eventually effect more than just Clagton.


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