Reply To: The Hoards of Emporium AD26

“In the name of god amen I Auftreberthe saint of wafhing and water of the parifh of Gloucefter in the county of Gloucefterfhire being weak of body but of sound and perfect mind and memory  do hereby commit my soul to the almighty and hereby do make thif my laft will and teftament in manner and form af followeth…”

And so began the reading of Austreberthe’s will to the small gathering assembled in the library of the emporium. Bartholomew Gosnold, the aged barrister, stood behind the large oak desk, clearing his throat frequently and pausing to peer over his spectacles.  The library was atwinkle with lamps of a variety of styles and ages, but was otherwise dark and vast in the areas outside of the pools of light.  Heavy brocade curtains covered the windows, and a fire glowed in the hearth, for it was winter, the last day of the year, and darkness came early and freshly fallen snow blanketed the town in frigid holy silence.

Despite the fire, it was chilly in the library which was rarely heated, and Cerenise wound her ancient Kashmiri shawl aound her neck and shoulders, pausing to finger the cloth appreciatively. It was an exquisite Kani shawl, woven with intricate floral motifs in warm shades of red and plum, soft as a rabbit. She inched her wicker bath chair closer to the fire, accidentally tipping over a small table and sending the contents of a green glazed Tamegroute bowl skittering across the floor.

Yvoise tutted loudly as she rose from her chair to collect all the buttons and stand the little table back up. Luckily the bowl had landed on the Tabriz rug and hadn’t broken.

Bartholomew Gosnold paused until Yvoise had finished, and then resumed his reading of the will, after first clearing his throat again.