Quintin's Expedition

Chapter 4

It took a while to find the tavern I was staying in. The language barrier I had with the locals didn't help much either when I tried to ask for directions. Most were eager to help me but I think that may have been just because I was English. One kind person directed me down a couple of back roads, but I soon realised they weren't as kind as I thought.

Several children ran past me in groups, bumping into me as much as they could. I glanced behind me as I walked and I could see their frustrated faces as they had nothing in their hands but a couple of handkerchiefs. I felt a smirk spread on my lips. I may not have travelled often, but I knew of the tactics that thieves would try. I had heard about youngsters doing the same in London, so I had come prepared.

I had kept my jacket pockets empty, besides a couple of handkerchiefs and now my tie. Instead, I was wearing a binder around my torso, where I had stored my wallet and important documents. Yes, it was uncomfortable against my skin, but I preferred that than to lose anything to sticky fingers.

I did come across an elderly couple who informed me that I had been sent in the completely wrong direction. I tried to act shocked but I figured as much. They gave me some further directions, so I recounted my steps and eventually made it to the tavern.

It was as I had imagined. It was somewhat dusty on the outside but it seemed pleasant enough. I brushed through the door and was greeted by a sole man at the bar. He was absentmindedly cleaning a glass with a towel, staring off into nothing. As the door swung back into position, it clipped the bell suspended above it, causing it to ring out and draw attention to me as I entered. He looked up from his daze and gave me a rough smile.

"Mrhbaan!" He said loudly. I stared at him blankly to which his smile faltered. "Hal tafhama?" I assumed his next line was a question, judging by his tone, but I still couldn't work out what he was saying.

"Hello, my name is Quintin Jacobs-" I began to say before he cut me off.

"Ah, Mr Jacobs! Pleasure to meet with you." He said, putting down the glass and towel and making his way around the bar to meet me. "I have been expecting you. You do not know any Arabic I see?"

"No, I don't know of anyone locally to my town that knows how to speak it." I admitted.

"No matter, I speak English so we can converse well. My name is Arjay." He continued, thrusting a hand towards me.

"Pleasure to meet you, Arjay. And please, call me Quinn." I replied.

"No, all guests called by last name." He insisted while shaking his head.

I took a moment to take him in. He was shorter than I was, fairly skinny, with tanned skin and dark hair. His most striking feature was his deep brown eyes though, that seemed to pry into my soul. He was dressed in a long white shirt and trousers - a much smarter idea than what I was wearing.

"If you insist." I chuckled.

"I do!" Arjay grinned. "Shall we go to your room?"

"Would it be possible to get a drink first? I got lost on the way here and it's quite hot outside." I asked, trying to not sound pathetic as I pinched at my dry throat.

"Of course. Come, come." He said, walking back over to the bar and gesturing for me to follow him.

I took a seat at the bar while he walked to the back. He didn't ask me what I wanted to drink. Instead, he pulled a bottle from under the counter, pried the cap off and placed it in front of me. It was a brown bottle and I could smell a hint of hops, so I figured it was some sort of beer. I nodded to him and took the bottle in hand before swallowing half of the contents.

Its flavour wasn't unpleasant, but it was unlike any beer or lager I had had in England. I involuntarily shivered as the aftertaste set in while I placed the bottle back on the bar. I let out a rasp and uncouthly coughed as the remaining liquid went down my throat. Arjay burst into laughter.

"You will get used to that!" He chortled loudly.

"If you say so." I croaked, thumping my chest with my fist as the burning sensation subsided. "What is that?" I cried, which only made him laugh more.

"Special home brew. Do you like?" He asked with such earnestness.

"Not quite what I'm used to, but I'm sure I'll get used to it over the next few weeks." I groaned, but a smile on my lips betrayed me.

"I am glad you like, Mr Jacobs. Here is another." He said, pulling another uncapped bottle from under the bar and placing it before me. He pulled another for himself and took a swig. We exchanged nods and clinked our bottles together before draining the contents.

"You must be tired from travelling so far. Come, I show you your room." He said, leaving the bar once more and walking up the stairs to the left.

I rose from my seat and followed him, dragging my case behind me.

The room itself was quaint and frankly, dismal to look at. I am sure that numerous creatures of the night, both big and small, had been inside its walls. A sodden mattress was sitting on an unsteady frame, draped in a flimsy looking cloth. There was a supposed wardrobe to the right of it, which again appeared to be holding up by sheer willpower rather than any structural soundness. I won't even go into details of what the bathroom looked like. It's safe to say, I would be doing none of my business in that pot.

I am sure Arjay could sense my unease as I glanced around the room, taking in all of the 'sights'. He clapped me on the back and burst into laughter.

"I bring you another brew, you will sleep fine then." He chortled before leaving me alone in the room. He was wrong there; I would need more than another beer before I felt drunk enough to sleep in this hovel.

After he returned with a number of bottles, he seemed to have an abundance of the stuff, he finally left me alone so I could retire for the night. I reluctantly downed a further three bottles of the beer while standing at the window. It did have glass in it, which surprised me, but it wasn't seated correctly. I could feel the breeze passing through the gaps, along with a number of creepy crawlies that caught my attention. I hastily blew out the flame from the candles and sat down on the floor, allowing the dusty moon light to fill the space instead. I could hear the humming of the cicadas from outside and inside the room, it was enough to make my skin crawl and confirm I was definitely getting no sleep. I bit the lid off another bottle of the wretched liquid and watched the stars pass by as the hours dripped away.

The sun beat through the window and it's heat is what stirred me. Apparently, I had fallen asleep at some point, with my head pressed against the mattress. As the realisation of where my face was came into being, I ripped my head away with such force I almost toppled backwards. Jumping to my feet and ripping my clothes off, I scrubbed my whole body to rid myself of any mites and insects. I couldn't tell if it was my skin crawling or them crawling on my skin, but I let out a pathetic wail as I clawed at my flesh.

The dishevelled bathroom looked enticing now. Reluctantly, I filled the basin with water, grabbed a cloth from my luggage and moped it over myself, digging deep into every nook and cranny. Somehow when packing, soap evaded my thoughts, and only now as I was trying to wash away the creatures of the night did it become apparent that body hygiene was not all that important here compared to home. I examined my body for any bites. I'm sure my wolf blood would have made a tasty meal for any bugs. Probably told their friends about it too. I couldn't see anything though, so either my paranoia was unfounded or my body had healed the evidence already.

Not being able to stand being in that room any longer, I quickly hung up my clothes in the tatty wardrobe, dressed in a shirt and slacks, grabbed my bag, and made my way down to the foyer. To my surprise, Arjay was up and sweeping the floor. He heard my footfalls on the stairs and glanced up at me from his task.

"Mr Jacobs! Did you sleep well? The brew is good, no?" He said hastily, eying me just as I descended. My lips curled in place and returned his pleasant demeanor.

"It did the job, yes." I mused, entertaining him. "Do you work here alone?" I couldn't help but ask, seeing as he was here when I came in last night and I'm sure it wasn't that many hours ago. He looked unphased though and even seemed to look fresher than I did. His face was glowing with pride and his eyes were not nearly as sunken as mine felt.

"No sir, my wife is here too. She can cook your good breakfast." His words almost sounded like an offer, but it wasn't one I wanted to accept.

"No thank you, Arjay," I replied, holding my hands up to deflect him, "I have a lot to be getting on with." I could see the colour in his eyes fade slightly and his smile wavered. I instantly felt a pang of guilt. "Dinner though, I promise." I gave him my broadest smile before moving around the room and exiting through the door.

"I hold you to that!" I heard him call after me as slipped out of the building. Yes, I am sure you would, I sighed.

It seemed the street outside was bustling already, even in the early hours, or whatever time it was. There was a strong aroma of herbs and spices in the air. It was tantalising and made my mouth water. I pulled the map from my satchel, glanced down at it for a moment and then at my surroundings. I began to walk; I would pick something up to eat while I made my way to my next destination, to a guide who would take me out of the city and explore the nearby pyramids.

Anticipation coursed through my veins but I could also sense a hint of excitement. It was the first time I had felt such a thing since leaving England, so I was surprised but also eager to see what this place had to offer.