Most of the Floatings, however, was populated by much smaller vessels. There were many floating shops – a small, floating day shop in which no one lived. The inside of the building would store the wares, while the sides were open to the air. The merchant sat along the outside of the building, dipping his feet in the water and propelling himself along with long paddles. Another variation of the floating shop was a circular vessel, with the merchant placed in the center. Oars were stuck through the walls, and he would glide along to do his business, following the directions of the lookout who sat on the roof. There were thousands of these tiny vessels. They swarmed about the Floatings like gnats, and as the larger sailing vessels came in from distant ports, the merchants would come alongside them and jump upon their roofs until they were the same height as the deck. Then began the flurry of selling and trading, in which all hands would take part. Most foreign ships did not moor in the Floatings for even a single night, for their business was finished within hours.
With so many merchants in the harbor, there was need for people to service them with food and the necessities of life. The Timbers were good for long meals, but most of the traders did not have the time to enter them. At any moment a new ship might arrive and if they left their stores to eat they would lose their market. Therefore, there were long, narrow vessels that the traders could pilot their ships alongside to eat their meals sitting on their roofs. Windows lined the restaurant ship through which the merchants would be served, while they were free to disengage themselves at any time to chase a ship that had just come in.
From his tiny Lipel – a small, circular store – a merchant could glide between the larger buildings and sell his wares as he went, resupplying himself from the same. He was surrounded by counters filled with his wares – whether they were linen, fruit, books, or some other commodity – and he would never lose a moment waiting for his customers to come up.
The Floatings was supplied with the freshest seafood: its primary food. The fishing boats were similar to the trader’s, except they were longer and wider. Instead of a shop in the center, they had a hole that communicated with a wooden tub below the ship, open to the water by several small holes. When the catch was brought in, they would dump it into this tub, and whatever was ordered, they would simply reach down and grab it fresh from its native element. No fish were wasted and, as their supply built up, they were able to pass over those days when little was caught without affecting the supply.
In most cities of that time, the tradesmen formed themselves into guilds and built warehouses and guildhalls within the city walls. In Eden, the tradesmen would construct floating bizarres, which were no more than a covered frame in which the tradesmen would dock their boats, while shoppers or traders would float through on their own craft and purchase what it was they wanted. These were invaluable during the busiest times of the day, when the surface of the Floatings was so packed with vessels that the water could not be seen.
There were also a number of transport ships whose only purpose was to carry citizens through the Floatings to conducts their business. These were usually uncovered flatboats, with a row of seats along each side that could raise or lower and extend to reach whatever vessel the occupant was dealing with. To go shopping, the citizens of Eden would pay a fare on one of these and be taxied from place to place around the Floatings, to carry on their business without leaving their seats.
A market or bazaar is a bustling, confusing place. The Floatings were doubly so. There were tens of thousands of vessels constantly moving about its surface, some the size of a city circle. To control things, however, every ship was equipped with flags – color coded according to seller or buyer, wholesale or small-sale. With this, as well as with shouting and yelling, the people were able to communicate. It was for the most part an orderly place, though its magnificent wealth attracted many desperadoes. Under Gylain’s tyrannical rule, however, the only plundering allowed was his own.
It was into this scene that Clifford led the barrels, though it was subdued for the night. The use of lights was strictly forbidden: a fire in such a dense jungle of wooden vessels would be disastrous. Many of the smaller vessels – too small for the owner to live in them – were docked every night after darkness came. At this time the waters were desolate compared to the daytime.
Clifford led the barrels down the river until it emptied into the harbor, then guided them down one of the piers. At its end was The King’s Arm , waiting for the barrels. It had come in with the darkness, disguised as a merchant ship. No one had recognized it.
As he approached it, Clifford called out in a loud whisper, “The meat is here, sirs. I’ve brought the meat – the hams and the pork.”
“And the salted beef?” a voice answered.
“Yes, and the salted beef.”
“A bit late, but we will still take it,” and the barrels were stopped by the crew and lifted onto the deck.
“Come aboard to receive your payment,” the voice called to Clifford, who boarded the vessel.
A moment after he was aboard, the crew quietly slipped the ropes and floated out to the harbor. While the pilot and the helmsman were busy navigating through the other vessels, the crew began to pry open the barrels with an iron crowbar. The first to be unsealed was the Admiral, and as the lid came off and showed his head, the sailors stood at attention and saluted him.
“Welcome aboard, sir,” they said, “It does a man good to see you back again.”
“We are not out of hot water yet,” he answered.
“Oh, I don’t know, sir. We haven’t had it too hot since we left the Indies.”
“I meant danger.”
“No, I am with you there. Let me help you up,” the sailors grabbed onto the Admiral’s arms and pulled him from the barrel.
“It is not very authoritative, but I must stretch myself out upon the deck.”
“Go ahead, sir. We won’t think ill of you, after all you’ve brought us through.”
“Good,” the Admiral laughed pleasantly, “I feel like a side of pork,” and he stretched himself upon the deck.
One by one the sailors opened the other barrels, pulling the occupants out and letting them stretch themselves upon the deck. The last barrel left was the largest. As they opened it, one of the sailors said, “Must be a biggun – even the monk with the lightning mustache had a smaller barrel than this.”
“I gamble its a giant, after what we’ve pulled out – a man in golden armor, and two of the prettiest dames I ever seen.”