Spring - Nicolaus

Nicolaus Cagliostro exited his shop and soaked in the bright Spring sunshine of the Plaza for a moment. Ostiarium was alive with activity, suffused with the tangible excitement of release from the cold clutches of winter. Stripped of their grey winter travelling cloaks, in the sunlight russet-clad laborers mixed with richly dressed merchants and the wealthy and their wives in rich crimsons, bright saffron and deep indigo, some trimmed with furs.

Nearby a servant opened an upstairs shutter and started beating a blanket, sending clouds of dust into the sky. Traders were calling out from their market stalls, while women stood chatting in clusters exchanging gossip and news or laughing at a shared joke, baskets in arm. Painted signs attached to wooden beams above the doors of the shops projected out over the street, swinging gently in a light breeze, telling the illiterate their trade. Goods such as bronze or brass vessels for cooking, and salt, candles, needles, leather goods and other sundry items changed hands. Calls of citizens, travelers, and laborers combined in a cosmopolitan mix of languages and accents, over which can be heard the town crier calling from the crossroads at the centre of town. The practiced patter of the street vendors however, carried over all as they walk around with trays of food, calling out their specialties.

A thief grabbed a merchant’s purse near the traders’ stalls, and the merchant and some of his customers chase after him, shouting. Many turned to watch the excitement. The chase rushed by a representative of the church preaching on the street to a small circle of ardent faithful, and passed out of sight.

Nicolaus' moved into the crowds, swelled for market day with those in from the country to two or three times their normal size, many who would likely live it up rowdily in the taverns by evening. His nostrils were soon invaded by the stench from the sewage-polluted watercourses and town ditches as he continued towards the docks. With Spring things were thawing and the smells of decay had returned with a vengeance. He could see water trickling between the buckets of offal and kitchen rubbish outside houses, carrying the liquid of rotting food into the street. It would be worse when the rains came and there would be no way around the puddles.

Ponies and packhorses sauntering through the town, moving unhurriedly towards the plaza marketplace, laden with goods and guided by laborers from the local farms. Some were driving sheep and cattle, or steering carts laden with eggs, milk and cheeses. A pair of dogs started barking from a alley at the passing animals. They were chased off by a man with shovel who was nearby shoveling dung from the street into a cart as Nicolaus passed by.

Now he could hear the clang of blacksmiths hammering away at their forges, and shouting in guttural voices at their apprentices to fetch water or bring coal to heat a ploughshare. More stalls had been erected here, hanging out iron wares such as scissors, light holders and knives to attract those coming in from the surrounding countryside. Just past these lay a row of shops with their counters laden with meat, exposed in the sun, while in the shade of the shops joints and carcasses hung from hooks. Leather-aproned butchers worked carving meat into portions with a steady thunk of cleavers on wooden boards.

The street opened finally into a pageant of ships, sailors and laborers beneath a wide blue sky. With Spring also had come the return of regular shipping, and with it resupply from the continent. Nicolaus searched for the dock clerks with a urgent eye, excited to secure his supplies and if fortunate some texts he had requested by letter.