In the city pt1

I was waiting until I was able to finish writing the second part of this before I was to post it up, but I've just not gotten around to it yet, so you guys just get part one for now.  I believe that this is my last thing that I've had prewritten, so from now on out, I’m going to have to force myself to write every week to keep on updating this.  Also, I've been made hungry by both watching shows and reading books, but I had a new experience today:  I was made hungry by typing out my own writ.

The litter was of premier quality.  The frame was made of a beautifully carved white featherwood, imported from far to the south in the land without cold.  The curtains were of a fine silk from far to the east, imported from a land over the edge of the world, scenes sewn into its fabric.  The pillows and cushions were filled with a light down covered in dyed wool, imported from far to the north where the earth meets the ocean, a body of water which has no end.  It was the finest palanquin that one could buy, truly to be envied by his peers.  Why then did she not enjoy the ride, enjoy the fine fruits provided, or more importantly, his company?  Instead, she peered out the side, excitedly drinking in the city around her, eyes and head alike darting back and forth.  How dreary; how dull.

Contrast to her companion, Vivica had no interest in the walls of the litter.  Too much she was cooped up in a country villa, surrounded by only slaves to keep her company.  Now she was in the midst of a city, one of the oldest and greatest in the world, nested along the river Oxis, and it bustled with life.  She lived with her father far out into the countryside and visited now with her uncle who she had scarcely met in all her years, who knew personally a number of rich and powerful families to which she could be wed.  She was married once before, but after a number of years he was taken by the blood flux and coughed himself to death whilst acting as an envoy to a far off land.  It took him suddenly.  However, her period of mourning had past, and now she was fit to wed once more.

None of these thoughts were close to her heart at the moment though.  Instead, it was filled with the splendor of the city and produced the sounds and smells as only a city could; it produced that certain feeling one could not attain from a town or even a lesser city.  As they edged further away from her uncle’s urban villa and moved more towards main avenues, the people became more plentiful, along with everything else.  They passed a few shops that lined an apartment building, itself at least six stories tall.  The shops were selling food and spices.  She saw where one shop had barrels to prepare garum, with plenty for sale.  The barrels were filled with the entrails of fish and mixed with water and copious amount of salt.  A film would form on the top, a result of the fermentation, and then it would be scooped up after some great time and bottled, ready to be sold.  Many of the best dishes are made with garum.

As they entered the via Lobelia, one of the main avenues of the city, her spectacle only broadened.  Very soon her nose detected some manner of charred meat, which only served to make her salivate involuntarily; she hadn't eaten much today.  Her suspicions were proven correct as she heard the cook cry out that he was purveying lamb cooked over an open flame, marinated with honey and herbs.  Vivica wanted to stop and purchase some, but she knew that her uncle would forbid such an act, so instead she for once paid attention to the interior of the litter, namely the platter of food in the middle.  It was mainly fruit, some dates and figs which likely had been grown in the nearby country, as well as a few small apples and some mauve grapes.  As well there were plump green olives and some chunks of white cheese.  She tested at the cheese first and found it tangy but far too sour for her taste.  A shame, she thought, as normally she enjoyed the cheese of goat.  Next she turned to a couple of figs to fill her disgruntled stomach, but only enough to quiet it such that she may turn her attention once more outwards.

Vivica was glad that she had, as a sound which she could only liken to some material tearing drew her in, and what a sight she saw.  A man stood upon a stage prancing back and forth, holding the audience enthralled to him, his upper body exposed to display musculature worthy of a statute and a fine sheen of sweat coating his body, making him glisten.  Were that all to be seen, she would have been happy enough, but indeed more there was.  In one hand he held a torch, and in the other a cup.  Once and again he would drink form the cup and then breathe into the fire, giving birth to great gouts of flame, ripping into the air above the heads of the audience. They were fascinated.  She was fascinated.  Later during this visit to this marvelous city, there were a number of things she wished to do.  She added one more thing to her list, to see this man again.