Chương 18: Bees and Bread

After our meeting, Advocate Dast had decided that he wanted an advance on his fees and dragged us into what must be the smallest drinking establishment in Varenza. Only a few doors from his office, it presented as a bench outside a window. A crate was placed in front of the bench, and shortly after we sat down we heard noises behind our heads, and three glasses were handed out through the window.

"What is this?" I studied the liquid in the glass. It was golden amber and smelled nothing like wine.

"Mead," the advocate said and drank.

"Same thing. You grab… something. And you add… something else. And wait. And it becomes drinkable!"

"Honey, and yeast," Corso said, tasting the liquid and nodding to Dast.

"Good stuff, this. My uncle used to travel out to the woods east of Varenza every late summer, and come back with a barrel of honey." Corso leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, and a wistful expression came over his face.

"He would take a glass of the honey, thin it with water, then add some grains, and leave it exposed to an open window for a week or two. When it bubbled he would warm the rest, add water, and the mixture from the glass." He drank again, licking his lips in appreciation.

"This stuff is much better, though."

"The trick is to use multiple glasses in multiple places and, if you can, to sample places outside the city walls," a voice came from inside the window.

"And when you find something good, to store it until next season." Corso, Dast and the voice inside the window continued to discuss the making of mead and its merits when compared to wine, and I just sipped my glass and enjoyed the hour. Today had been long and strange, and it would probably take my mind several days to process all that had happened, but for now I was content.

I was sure that tomorrow would bring new things to stress about, and I was more than a little apprehensive about the legal challenge I was now convinced would happen, but I also felt confident in our choice of advocate. Dast was young and almost certainly inexperienced, but he was personable, and I also got the impression he was both knowledgeable and cunning. I was letting my thoughts be carried away by the currents, going here and there, sometimes even dipping into what was nearly sleep.

When I suddenly remembered something.

"The attribute point!" I exclaimed, interrupting a discussion I think had moved on to the beginnings of a plan to keep bees inside the bakery.

"What?" Dast said.

"Yes!" Corso said.

"When we found the coffin, you levelled up. You said you got an attribute point. What even is that?"

"I…" I began, recalling the prompt from last night and trying to get a feel for whatever the class had established inside me. I could sense my class, the skills, and I could bring up prompts.

"I am not sure. Give me a moment." I closed my eyes and kept extending my senses, letting them travel around that core at my centre, poking at it and probing it for information. It was not long until I found what I was looking for.

"Right," I muttered, still focused inwards.

"There. I can spend attribute points to…" I coughed.

"To increase my attributes."

"So, you can get even stronger?" Corso asked.

"Or more agile, or I can increase my stamina. Or perception, etcetera."

"What will you spend it on?" Corso asked. I thought about that. Might was my lowest attribute, and last night it had nearly been insufficient to shift the coffin lid. My perception and intellect were both high already. My fatigue over the past couple of days made it tempting to increase vigour. Advocate Dast had watched the exchange with some interest, and interjected.

"You gentlemen know nothing about this, do you?" We both turned to look at him.

"And you do?" Corso asked.

"Some things, I know. This is covered in brief at the academy. I don't know if you know this, but the rooms on the top floor of the Statio are reserved for Superior Advocates, those who have a relevant class to go with their education. And we are all invited to join a semester to learn about that." He picked up his glass, and upon discovering it was empty simply held it up. A moment later, a hand came out of the window and grabbed it.

Dast left his hand up, and another heartbeat later, the same hand returned with a full glass. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Corso decided to try the same trick, and his grin nearly split his face when he found out how well it worked.

"Anyway," Dast continued.

"Skills are also associated with attributes. Ser Vale, you told me about your pre-existing skill. That is called a free skill, and it should have the word static next to it in your overview." I nodded.

"The power of class skills is directly linked to one or more attributes. Your Relic Sense…" He thought for a moment.

"Is probably related to either your perception or your intellect. Probably perception." I focused inwards towards my core and found the skill there. Probing it, I found he was entirely correct. There was a strangely concrete link from the skill to my perception attribute. And when I probed further, I could sense that the higher my perception, the more information I would get from the skill.

"Correct. Perception," I said. He nodded.

"Then, my recommendation is that you increase your perception. That is the normal approach, to strengthen your class skills first, before broadening out. Think of it like a flywheel; an early investment that will yield dividends later." That made sense, and I said so.

"What is your current perception level, if I may ask?"

"Twenty," I said, and Advocate Dast proceeded to cover our table — the crate — with mead as he spat out what was in his mouth, and as he knocked out what was in his glass.

"Twenty?" he exclaimed, and I heard rumbling laughter from inside the window.

"That is… That is preposterous. I never asked you the details of your class. I should have, I now realise. At level 1, I have not heard of anybody with any attributes over twelve." He held up his now empty glass and did the trick again. Then he thought.

"But I do not think that changes things. Relic Sense is powerful, and I think your best investment is to strengthen it." I nodded.

"What does the point actually do?" Corso asked.

"If you put it in Perception, what changes?"

"It…" I struggled to find words for what was basically a vague sense. It was a bit like trying to explain colour to a blind man.

"It makes the skill better. I should be able to get more information. More accurate information."

"So," Corso said with satisfaction.

"More treasure." Dast set his cup down.

"Everything the Attribute touches, it improves a little. Your eyes, your ears, your nose, and the ability, all of it sharpens together, because the ability runs on the Attribute. The point strengthens every use. But it does not change what the ability can tell you."

"Can I change that?" I asked.

"That is the rank. Rank comes from use. Relic Sense at F gives you… What does it tell you now?"

"It gives me the type of site. Funerary chamber, as an example. A general bearing, and then the approximate value of the find."

"Right. So, at rank E perhaps it also tells you the distance, or perhaps a more precise evaluation. Or more about the history of the item."

"Then Perception," I said, more to myself than to my companions. I considered if I should wait, and perhaps learn more about this. I was not the kind of man who jumped into decisions without fully understanding my options. But the argument made sense, and my excitement for finding more treasure was burning someplace inside me, someplace next to my class core. Closing my eyes, I mentally communicated my decision. Attribute Increased Perception 20 -> Perception 21"Well?" Corso said.

"It is done. Now we just need something to test it with," I responded, and he grinned back at me. Dast was leaning forward, a more enigmatic expression on his face.

"What are you thinking, Dast?" I asked.

"I am thinking…" He paused, searching for the words.

"That you finding me, or me finding you, is either going to lead my career into ruin, or I will be occupying the top floor of the Statio in a few years." He then drained his cup and stood, his document-pouch under his arm.

"I will be at the registry before first bell, and as soon as it opens I will file your claim. You should go home now, and sleep. Properly." He looked at us both deliberately to underline his point.

"At second bell, bring the goods to any licensed assessor. They cluster at the east end of the Ponte delle Botteghe. Ask for his assessment, in writing, with his stamp and signature." He paused again.

"I was going to ask you to not mention where they come from, but I suspect that will be meaningless. He will know. But still, if he asks, say nothing. Here, this is for his fee." He handed me five florins, and I looked at him quizzically.

"They will come out of expenses, don't worry about it. After the assessor, meet me back here at third bell." We nodded and shook his hand, and then we took off for Corso's sister's house. Monna Isabetta had just woken and was preparing to get started on the night's work when we came in, and as was custom by now, she was not pleased.

"You. The last time you two went crawling about, you disturbed my routine. What is it now? And why is there a sword propped in the corner of my workspace?"

"That is a long story," Corso answered. She looked at us, at the dust still covering our clothes and at our tired expressions. Then her eyes went to the pouch at my side and to the sword. Eventually, she spoke.

"Marek, take my room. But first: clean yourself up." I nodded in thanks.

"Can you wake us before first bell?" Corso asked, and she nodded back at us. We went out the back where a pipe connected to a cistern on the roof chilled me to the bone, but at least I was finally clean. I went into Isabetta's room and set the satchel down on the floor, before lying down on her bed. I fell asleep at once, and dreamt of bees, and bread, and caverns under the earth, full of gold.