“Will we see each other again?” I asked Erky.

“Despite how awful you are, I have started to enjoy our journey together,” he answered. “If my church ever finds itself in need of an untrustworthy, murderous, greedy mercenary, I will know whom to recommend.”

“Don't flatter the human so much,” grinned Rhodarr. “People might think he is a Dragonborn.”

“Take care, Timbers,” Jim said.

“I have a good acquaintance in Sheepsford” said Beldrak, and gave Erky a letter. “Since you are going there for the first time, I wrote you a letter of recommendation. Good old Domopas is only a passable wizard, but a very dependable fellow otherwise.”

“Thank you, Trueanvil. I will not forget that.” The gnome waved goodbye to all of us, then left through the Northern Gate, and disappeared into the morning mist.

It was still strange to think of him as a non-human. But I finally accepted that a lot of creatures on this world, who looked human, were actually not. Or at least they took offence if you called them humans. Beldrak was a dwarf, Erky was a gnome, and that was that.

“So, what now?,” asked Rhodarr. In his case, at least there was no question of his humanity. Or, better said, the lack thereof. Rhodarr was one of the two-legged, talking lizards, who referred to themselves as “Dragonborn”. According to Beldrak, creatures like him did descend from dragons, but so did kobolds and a bunch of other freaks, like a sort of critters named “troglodytes,” and another called “wyverns”. It seemed a little pretentious that only one of these got to refer to themselves as Dragonborn. Not that I saw what the appeal was in claiming such a dubiously flattering ancestry.

At least Dragonborn were less offensive to the senses than kobolds. I only spent a short time in this world, but I already had several cases of serious misfortune. One of these was doing business with kobolds. These critters were ugly, treacherous and produced quite a stench. Rhodarr, while still hideous, at least was clean and not smellier than myself. Although that was hardly a great accomplishment, as I haven't had a proper bath with oil and hot water since we left Oakhurst five days ago.

“Our caravan leaves in two hours. We can have a lunch, or just walk around,” suggested Jim, putting an end to my train of thoughts.

“I am not hungry, so I can start teaching you right away,” answered Rhodarr.

He was an actor by trade, and a good one as I heard. But when Erky asked him whether he wanted to teach us Draconic, he took our offer without hesitation. Trapper Port was not a small city, even somewhat bigger than Capua, but it was still not large or affluent enough to finance a theatre all year-round.

Jim, in the end, decided that learning Draconic was a waste of his precious time, after all, so Beldrak and I had to foot the bill. We were to pay for Rhodarr's food, accommodation, and a gold coin a day in addition. It was a high price, but dragons and their ilk were numerous and powerful in this world, so I wanted to learn their language. As for Beldrak, he was a seeker of all kinds of knowledge. The only wonder was he hadn’t learnt Draconic before.

“Is everything in order?” the wizard turned to me now. “Anything left to do?”

“Books are on the wagon, our due to the caravan is paid, Jim procured supplies, you sold the gems. Have I left out anything? I think we have done everything we planned to. But since we still have two hours left, I would like to offer a sacrifice or two.”

“Always a wise thing before a long journey,” nodded Beldrak.

“For all the good it does,” added Jim and spat out. After his god abandoned him, he was understandably bitter whenever a subject of divine matters came up.

“Well then,” said Beldrak. “We can't start learning without Arnold, so do whatever you want, Rhodarr. We will meet at the Eastern gate in two hours.”

On that cue, we all scattered, each to pass the time in his own way. I walked back to the marketplace. It was the 9th day of Sextilis, not a market day, but some merchants were always selling in a town of this size, and some others arrived a day early.

What should I get? And for which gods? I asked myself as I walked between the stands. Truth to be told I was never a very pious man, or boy for that matter. My reasoning was that my parents and my sisters were devout enough to give the gods all their due in the name of the whole family. Well, I could not depend on them anymore for that.

It was questionable whether the gods I knew would be of any help here. Quirinus told me he did not know where I was being taken from Italia. But let us assume my gods are looking for me. Let us hope they find and help me.

I bought two roosters in the end, one for Quirinus to guide me, one for Iupiter Stator to make me steady in face of danger. For the Goddess Disciplina I bought a fat goose, and for Venus, a flagon of wine. Quirinus told me that the myrtle berries he gave me were the work of Venus as well, so some gratitude would not be amiss. And, since a priest of the god Adaron helped me a lot in the last few days, I bought some incense as well. Erky told me his god liked such offering better than animal sacrifice.

The roosters were heavy, the goose even heavier, but at least I was not clad in armour this time. The goose probably knew what I had in mind for it, because it constantly tried to escape from its basket.

There were some altars at every gate outside the city, so that travellers arriving or departing could offer sacrifices to gods of their choosing. Since my caravan convened at the Eastern Gate, I reckoned that there would be a long line before the altar there, so I walked to the Southern Gate, which was also closer to the marketplace.

First, I cut the throats of the roosters, collecting their blood nicely into a bowl. The birds took their fate well, and their organs were all intact and healthy. The gizzard of the one I offered to Quirinus was exceptionally well developed, which I took for a good sign.

I had less luck with the goose. While it was fat and big, its liver was damaged, and its lungs were a shade too dark. It also flailed around violently as I cut its throat, and got some blood on my tunic, so I had to change and repeat my whole prayer. If my gods were still able to communicate with me, the Goddess Disciplina was letting me know that she was not satisfied with my conduct recently.

Now I poured the blood on the big pyre burning behind the altar, and threw some of the entrails. Then came the wine. The fire flared up, and became a shade brighter, which was a good sign. Lastly I dropped the incense into the flames with a short prayer Erky taught me. The pyre flared again, and I glimpsed rubies in the flames for a moment, the sacred gems of Adaron.

Four of the five deities seemed to take my offering gracefully. Although I could still only be sure of Adaron, the other gods might not have even received my prayers. Regardless, I found that whether or not Disciplina really wanted to reprove me with the signs shown by the sacrifice, a reproval from her would be warranted.

I have been here for almost two tendays already, and I have neglected to follow the commandments of the Goddess.

Disciplina required her followers to be frugal, determined, faithful, and always strive to better themselves. I have not been profuse or indecisive, but I have broken my word and betrayed allies. Even though my lies and treachery proved to be useful, these acts always carry punishment in themselves.

I cannot promise to reform myself entirely, my Goddess. But maybe I can placate you with my diligence and parsimony. I swear to you that in the next five years I will learn five languages of this land, and amass a fortune to buy an estate fit to my standing. I will raise an altar to you in the library of Beldrak. I will spread your name among the learned and the soldiers of this world.

Unless, of course, I added an afterthought, I find my way back home sooner than that. But I will still learn five languages, no matter what.

My mother, Livia, spoke eight languages well, and another four passably. She picked up the tongues of our slaves and freedmen simply by conversing with them, and she was the one who dealt with foreign merchants. Father spent most of his time in the field and on the Forum, so mother led our household and managed the estates.

I always reckoned that as her son, I must have inherited her talent for languages. Even though I only spoke three languages well, Oscan, Latin and Etruscan; Oscan had many dialects, and I understood most of them. Learning five new languages will be hard, but not impossible for me.

With that thought, I put the corpses of the sacrifices back in the basket, and left. The caravan was already assembled and ready to go as I arrived at the Eastern Gate.

“Got any guidance?” asked Beldrak.

“Good omens all around and a warning. But it should be in order now.”

“Glad to hear.” The wizard sat on the wagon packed with our sacks and books; polishing his armour. “Hop on! Jim went forward with the scouts, and Rhodarr is trying to woo one of the scaled ladies.”

“If you want to walk a few hours, this would be the best time for it,” suggested our driver, a man named Mordred. “We will have a scorching day, I reckon.”

“I assume so, but I plan to ride all the way,” laughed Beldrak. “I don't pay you thieving lot three coppers a mile, so that I can walk on my own legs, you know!”

“I will go and get our esteemed teacher,” I said after putting my basket on the wagon. “You can help me to pluck the birds while we learn.”

“I will boil you some water, if I must,” he said lazily. “But you can pluck your damn poultry yourself. I always hated that sort of work.”

Before I could come up with a sufficiently witty response, the sound of a whistle cut through the morning mist. Mordred cracked the whip over the head of the horses, and slowly the column of wagons started to crawl.

Our journey has begun.