Vellum and Green Vitriol
Copyright © 2007, S. Y. Affolee
The Third Conjuration
Seal XXXI
About twenty minutes north of the wall in the mountains, we reached the edge of the city. The art dealer Paddy was in business with lived in a residential area at the outskirts of Haven where the intricate canals of the older part of the city had yet to cut through. The art dealer recommended the Northern Sea Hotel which was large enough to cater to tourists, yet not so well known that it was already booked full of carnival visitors. And more importantly, it was close to the city library which for some reason Rhys was keen to visit.
Paddy dropped us off at the closest bridge located on the Avido Canal which was the western most in Haven. The ceramics artist told us to call him for a ride the next time he was in Haven, granted that the trains were not fixed by then.
At the bridge, there were steps down beside it, leading to a platform overlooking the murky waters. Rhys and I took our luggage to the platform and waited for a small boat from the north to approach.
It was a bit of a shock to arrive at Haven after living in a southern city like Colchester for a while. The only streets wide enough for vehicles to travel on were in the west and south parts of the city, closer to the mountains and the mainland. The rest of the paths hugged the buildings, wide enough only for pedestrians and possibly bicyclists. The main roads were the canals and the surprisingly ornate bridges that stretched across them. The cabs were not Studebakers and Fiats but gondolas, piloted by gondoliers equipped with long poles with which to steer their vessel. In the late autumn, the gondolier who approached us wore a scarf aside from his large brimmed hat and a long dark fur lined coat.
The gondola approached the platform, the edges of the vessel barely scraping the wood. The gondolier tipped his head in acknowledgement.
"Ma'am. Sir. Where to?"
"I don't suppose you can take us to the Northern Sea Hotel?" I said as Rhys loaded our suitcases into the vessel. Once he stepped in, I followed him into the boat. The gondola rocked with my steps and I would have fallen over if Rhys had not reached out to steady me by the shoulders.
"I know where it is, ma'am," the gondolier replied. "It's on the most eastern side of the city with a wonderful view of the dikes and the sea. I take it that you two haven't been to Haven before?"
"No," Rhys replied as he steadied me again when I nearly fell over my seat.
I gave my traveling companion a chagrined smile. "Sorry about that. There's something about the water that makes me terribly clumsy."
"I suppose I'll just have to make sure you don't fall overboard." He scooted over until he could lope an arm around my waist.
"Rhys!"
He ignored my half-hearted attempts at trying to peel his fingers off me. "It would be very inconvenient if you fell into the canal and froze to death."
The gondolier used his pole to push his vessel out from the platform. His eyes glittered as he maneuvered the gondola into the waters. "You two must be newlyweds."
"We aren't."
"We are," said Rhys loudly, drowning me out.
I glared at him.
Just play along, Ana. It's not like we're going to see him again.
Shut up.
"You will be so glad you picked Haven for your honeymoon," the gondolier enthused. "Lots of people consider this city the most romantic city in the world."
I looked at the buildings on either side of the canal, built in simple lines yet flourished with curving, almost hallucinatory designs as evidenced by the careful molding around the windows and the intricate designs of the railing on the balconies. The sky above was a perfect robin's egg blue frosted with wispy clouds.
"Romantic for most people," I muttered. "I only get excited when there are bookshelves around."
Rhys grinned. "How do you feel about bookmarks, darling? Not the flimsy paper kinds, but the long metal ones?"
"You have a dirty, dirty mind."
"Hey, I wasn't the one who brought up bookshelves."
The gondolier looked confused at our byplay, but a moment later, his expression cleared. "You must be referring to the library. It's quite close to the Northern Sea Hotel if you want to know. I've heard that it is the largest in the northern counties."
"Is it?" I said.
"That's what I've heard." The rowing pole churned the water, pulling the gondola under another bridge. "Since you're newlyweds, I want to make this trip extra special for you. I will serenade you with a love song."
I bolted upright from my slouching posture. "No, wait..."
He didn't hear me. The gondolier burst into song, putting all of his lung power into the effort.
I groaned and slumped back. Pulled my oversized hat down further over my ears. Since Rhys was still holding onto me, I could both hear and feel him chuckling.
Not fond of opera, darling?
No.
As if to offend my musical sensibilities further, a window slammed open on one side of the canal and an argument erupted between several pedestrians--adding to the noise.
* * *
With a frustrated sigh, I put the telephone receiver back into its cradle and turned my back to the hotel desk, wondering what to do. Perhaps I should go to the address the operator gave me and go to Chesterfield's residence. I could stay on his front porch until he came home. Or if I was in the frame of mind for a bit of breaking and entering, break into his house and search his library.
The lobby of the Northern Sea Hotel was narrow--it was no more than a hallway. The entrance desk manned by a spindly looking clerk was no more than a recess in the wall. An iron, cage-like elevator sat at the end of the hallway leading to the upper stories. An unadorned door beside the elevator led to the first floor rooms. Really, the place was cramped like a closet--the most recent hotel guest signing for his key at the desk took up most of the space with his portly figure.
But the lack of space was made up for the mosaics that tiled the floor and walls. Small blue and green ceramics fit together creating an impressive tapestry of a battle between a pack of wolves and half a dozen sea dragons. Briefly, I wondered what local myth the mosaic was depicting.
"Any luck, miss?" the clerk inquired.
"None," I replied. "It seems that whenever I ring him up, Archibald Chesterfield isn't home. I'll try again later. Thank you for letting me use your telephone."
"No problem, miss. It's all part of the service."
"Did you say Chesterfield?" said the other guest as he handed his last paper to the clerk. "Archibald Chesterfield?"
I scrutinized the portly man in a brown suit and a checkered tie. He wore an ill-fitting boater on top of his head which I suspected lacked hair. His complexion was rather florid although his expression seemed earnest.
"Yes," I replied finally. "Do you know Mr. Chesterfield?"
"In passing. He is a rather prolific book collector who travels quite a bit. We have a mutual friend, the Baron of Kendel, the honorable Clayton Earlham. In fact, I am to meet the Baron today. He has a winter home here in Haven."
"I see."
"How do you know Mr. Chesterfield, miss?"
"I am in search of a book he has recently purchased at Greenglass."
"It must be quite the book since you came all the way here."
"Yes."
The guest abruptly swept his boater off his head, confirming my suspicions about his lack of hair, and bowed. "Pardon me, miss, but I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Doctor John Bickford. Historical scholar."
"Ana Talbot. I work as a research assistant at the Institute in Colchester."
"Ah, it seems as if our meeting was fortuitous then. Are you free this afternoon?"
"Apparently I am since Mr. Chesterfield is not home," I replied amused. "But I thought you were visiting the Baron?"
"I am. But I thought you would like to join me on my visit. Mr. Chesterfield is one of the Baron's friends and I am sure he would have an excellent idea of where to track him down. Besides, I would like to have a chat with someone with mutual interests."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Bickford nodded vigorously. "I suppose the Baron counts me as a friend, but mostly he retains me for my expertise on history. It's hard to get a truly intellectual conversation going on with him if there isn't another knowledgeable person around."
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