Of Dreams and Intrigue

Chapter 2 - Caste or not caste?

Naruzayn, Rahkurin
Unaware of the sudden interest he sparked, Uravath made his way to complete his errands for the day. He had made a decent amount that day, having fortuitously come upon a prosperous trader in need of a reliable messenger. He smiled when he realised he had made enough to justify buying something special for his mother.
      Kashef, the mercer, was in a good mood when he returned, a noble client just leaving as he entered. He was humming as he greeted Uravath with a tousle of his head as was his custom.
      “So, what does my little rapscallion have to report?”
       Uravath grinned. Kashef had been a friend of his father’s, or so he said, and he always had a soft spot for Uravath and his mother. “The Captain said at least another week, by him or another.”
       Kashef smiled. “I suspect there is something else that has got you so excited.”
      “Yes, actually,” Uravath said before going on to describe the new ship and her captain. Kashef listened patiently, though there was a strange expression on his face as Uravath told him of the captain’s offer.
      “You know,” Kashef said ponderously. “You should take the captain up on his offer. I would be one of your sponsors for the permit.”
       Uravath was dazzled by the offer. “But-but, what about my mother? I can’t…” Uravath sighed. “Thank you, sir, but I can’t.” He looked down shamefully at his feet. He felt the mercer stand raise him and put his hand comfortingly on his shoulder.
       “I understand. But if the situation were to change, remember my offer is always open. And besides, I’m no sir, at least not to the son of one of the best men I ever met.”
       Uravath looked up and smiled. “Thank you.”
       Kashef stepped back and began to look around his shop. “That reminds me, I have something for you.”
      Uravath watched curiously as he brought out a bundle and held it out to him. He took it, looking warily as he unfolded it, before stepping back in shock and awe.
      It was an exquisite piece of silk, just enough for a scarf, complementing his mother’s bronze complexion. He glazed at the mercer who signed encouragingly signalling it was his.
      “It is too much!” He protested.
      “Take it as payment then, for the errands that you run for me.” Both of them knew that the true value of the scarf was beyond any of the errands he had run, but Uravath knew there was nothing he could say without giving offence.
       “Thank you,” he whispered, blinking back tears.
       “Nothing to it. Remember, you are worth more than what those short-sighted fools think. They have forgotten whose son you are, but don’t you forget it.”
     Uravath was a bit dazed as he left the mercer’s. It was a strange day, with one strange thing after another happening to him. Distracted, he had not noticed the boys until they had him surrounded. He recognised the self-appointed leader of the little gang and gave a small internal sigh. He adjusted his posture, making himself smaller and hopefully less offensive before giving a bland smile and a nod.
      He was familiar with the game, the young Tierun frequently terrorising the younger Tinakarun and orphans in those parts, though he had mostly managed to avoid him for the most part.
      “What are you looking at, little rat?” The boy in the lead sneered at him. He kept his expression bland, carefully looking around him to look for an escape. The young boy moved forward and shoved him. “I said, what are you looking at?”
      The package Kashef gave him slipped to the ground and caught their eye. The young boy looked at it with avarice as Uravath snatched it up and held it close to his body.
      “What is that,” the bully asked, grabbing towards it as Uravath dodged and stepped back. “Are you mute, little Rat? What is a mute rat like you doing with that? Do you think you are better than us, filthy little rat?”
      Uravath knew what was coming and huddled to the ground, protecting his face and the package. He felt as the boys gathered around him, raining blows across his body, but he refused to make a sound. He would not give them the power over him they desired, and he knew that they could not torment him over long in such a public avenue. He was not disappointed when he heard Kashef’s deep voice bark out in question.
      “What is this going on?” He felt as the boys withdrew and heard the sharp intake of breath as Kashef recognised his form on the ground. “What happened here?” Uravath recognised the danger held in his deceptively calm words, and he suspected his bully did too.
      “S-sir, it was just a little mi-misunderstanding… we-we were j-just…”
      Uravath did not hear the rest of the conversation as the voices moved away from him. Warily, he carefully unfolded himself and checked at his clothes. He sighed when he took in the damage and realised that he had to spare some of his hard earned coin to buy himself a new pair of clothes.
      Kashef found him by the water tap, trying to clean his clothes as far as he could. His clothes were ruined beyond repair, though he found himself fortunate he was not bruised too badly. He wiped away the blood from his back using the remains of his shirt when Kashef came up wordlessly and offered him a bundle. Uravath looked at him wordlessly before he took in the pair of well-made clothes.
      “It used to be my nephew’s. Seeing that yours are not fit to be worn, I don’t think he would think those would be put to good use.”
       “Thank you,” he said softly before carefully putting it on. It was too new and fit too well to be second-hand, and he suspected Kashef had them made for him. His pride demanded that he refuse as he normally would have, but he realised how foolish it would have been to spurn the gift at the time. He thought he saw a glint of tears in Kashef’s eyes, but it was gone before he could look back.
      “Now,” Kashef said carefully. “Does that sort of thing happen often?”
       Uravath stayed silent, not wanting to reply. He felt Kashef’s steady gaze as he finally relented. “I’m Tinakarun.” He said by way of explanation. “Though not often, it does happen sometimes.”
       “Who called you that?” Kashef said harshly. “Don’t they remember who your father was?”
        Uravath looked up in surprise. “No one ever talks about him. But they’ve always called us Tinakarun, except…” he looked thoughtful. “None of the old-time merchants or sailors ever treated me badly. Though I think everyone else assumes I am fatherless.”
        “And no one corrects them?”
        “The only people who know otherwise are people like you who were not originally from Naruzayn. And like me, I suppose,” he added as an afterthought. “You know how society works. And with none of my father's relatives here, and mother’s relatives having disowned her for marrying him, there is no one to stand for us.”
       “But that doesn’t explain why I hadn’t noticed this before.” Kashef shook his head. Uravath looked down uneasily at his feet. “I’m not mad at you, boy, it’s just,” he sighed. “You are worth more than they know. In fact, you really should take the captain’s offer, if only to connect with your father’s family. They were very powerful, from what I had learnt from your father.”
        Uravath looked up at Kashef and nodded his head slowly. “I’ll think about it.”