# The Merchant Of The Blue Hat



## sauronbill (Sep 22, 2005)

OCC: This is something I've been making for a few months now and it's not even finished. I hope you like it. I am afraid to say that English is not my first language so please forgive my grammar mistakes. Anyway, enjoy.... As always any criticism is welcome. 

THE MERCHANT OF THE BLUE HAT 

CHAPTER 1: THE ROAD

Banouin was sad. He always felt this way every time he had to travel. One would imagine that as a merchant, traveling would be the most exciting part of the profession but Banouin was one who did not share this opinion. The road would always mean danger, and danger would always mean trouble. No matter how hard he tried, he would always get in trouble. Bandits, the weather, wolfs, wild mountain lions, and even starvation were the cause for the death of many merchants. However, none of these things troubled him. It was the fact that his solution to any of these problems would always turn bloody. But there was no choice in the matter. Life wasn’t cheap, especially not for a lonely merchant. 

Like many merchants Banouin traded goods, something that was always welcome in other cities. Corn, cotton, grapes, olives, olive oil, cloth, salt, weapons, precious ornaments, paintings, strange objects, and even common meat and cheese. Everything that you could imagine he had sell and bought. Trade was the job for a merchant, and Banouin was good at it. To buy at a low cost and sell to a reasonable but always profitable price was the number one rule for every merchant. Rule number two was to stay alive. No merchandise is worth your life, was Banouin’s rule, but there were those who did not think the same way. His teacher Rakil, a very profitable merchant, had lost all of his riches and even his life for not obeying this simple rule. Banouin found him in the forest, dead with many wounds. Bandits had gotten to him, and Rakil had fought for his treasures. His bloody face still haunted Banouin’s dreams. 

Being a merchant was harder than many people believed. It certainly meant not having a home. Banouin traveled from city to city, staying for a while in each one. Good thing was that merchants were accepted everywhere. Banouin finished dressing up, and then he took a long breath and whispered a short prayer for a safe journey. He got out of the house and went toward his already prepared ponies. The city of Lior had been kind to him, but it was time to leave it behind. Like many cities, Lior was much known for its wine that was the very thing that its habitants didn’t need from the other cities. Lior’s wine was made from grapes that were harvested from a field dedicated entirely to the wine. The wine was red, and rich in taste. It was perfect for great events; some say it was even fit for a king. 

The woman tending his ponies was named Mara; she had been very kind toward him, which was strange for not many people loved foreigners. They were actually frowned upon; as if one were some kind of strange disease. Mara was the one that had actually received him, for the city of Lior had no inn. Banouin thanked the heavens for that woman, for nobody else gave him shelter, which would have meant to sleep in the wild. Banouin went toward the woman. She turned around when he was three steps close to her. 

“Good morning foreigner,” said Mara smiling sweetly. She was in her early forties, but she still was a head turner. Her features were still delicate and her curves were still firm. Her hair was as black as the night, and her green eyes were still full of youth.


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## sauronbill (Sep 22, 2005)

“Good morning Mara,” said Banouin. He would have smiled at her, but his thoughts about the road had made it difficult. “Thank you for your kind hospitality. You are the best innkeeper I have ever met, and your house the best inn I had the placer to stay.”

“You lie,” said Mara, her green eyes showing amusement. “I bet there are a ton of inns better than this hellhole. My house only has three rooms for God’s sake. “

“But it has good food,” said Banouin, “and a great woman.” Mara blushed at the compliment. She got closer to him, her green eyes in his. 

“I shall miss you foreigner,” she said at the time she hugged him. “It will be lonely without you. When will you be back?”

“Soon,” said Banouin.

“Liar,” said Mara and she buried her face in his chest. Banouin hugged her tight, feeling the smell of her black hair refreshing. They hugged for a while, until Banouin separated from her. Her eyes showed tears. 

“Mara I…”started Banouin, not really knowing what to say. 

“No, “she said wiping her eyes. “You don’t have to say anything to me, Banouin. I just wish you would change your mind about leaving. You could stay if you want, Galead won’t mind. “

“I am sorry Mara,” said Banouin. If she only knew the truth about him, the real truth about what he was, she wouldn’t have said that. She would actually be running away from him. “But this is the life of a merchant, and this is the life I chose. You should find yourself a good husband, one that doesn’t have to be on the road for seven months a year. I bet your son Galead will mind if I stay with you. He certainly showed his discomfort the day I moved to your house. “

“He’s always been suspicious about foreigners, and that’s why he did it. But he got used to you, just like everybody else in this town. Galead has his own family to think about now. I have nobody anymore. “

“You are still beautiful Mara,” said Banouin,” I am sure you could wed any man you want. “

“Most of the men in this town are already wed,” said Mara smiling now. “The rest are either too old, or too young. I was hoping I could retain you. “Banouin kept quiet. For a moment he almost told her his secret, but reason stopped him. No woman would love him after learning what he was. He took out a bag full of gold coins from his pocket.

“Take this Mara,” he said handing her the bag. 

“No Banouin,” said Mara,” is not your money I want. “

“Please take it.” said Banouin. ”You can do what you want with it, but take it for my peace of mind. Consider it my gratitude for your hospitality. “She took it, but she didn’t meet his eyes when she did. This action seemed to shame her, but made Banouin feel much better. 

“Good bye foreigner”, she said, then hugged him one more time, and kissed his cheek. 

Then she turned and walked back to her house. Banouin watched her leave, and he felt an immense urge to call her. However, he didn’t. Instead he mounted his horse, put on his traveling hat and rode away; guiding his ten ponies to the doors of the city. He didn’t look back. He never used to. 



* * *​
The good thing about the road was that it would always help him forget. And he desired to forget indeed. Leaving Mara was one of the hardest things he had done in his life, but Banouin knew there was no turning back. How long would he keep this up? How long would he continue to fall for women who would not understand what he was? When would he learn? 

“Just forget,” said Banouin. He repeated the phrase in his head over and over again without result. The image of Mara would not leave him. So concentrated he was on her, that the night came much faster than anticipated. Banouin camped under an oak tree, tying the ponies to the same tree and lying to sleep for the night. His dreams were tormented, like every night, but the dawn promised new hopes. 

“A day with no trouble,” said Banouin and he prayed once again for a safe journey. On the open plain he felt himself relax. Mara was still on his mind, but now his mind would wonder to other memories making it easy to bear the pain. Also the beauty of the land was already taking a toll on him. Here he could smell the grass and feel the whispering breeze, as if nature itself would welcome him. 

For almost a hundred miles the land was flat with barely a hill to break the visual monotony. During the trip he did not see any travelers, not did he expected to. The good time for trade was still one month away, so the caravans of merchants were not still out thank heavens. Banouin had studied the ways of trading under Rakil, who was not fond of caravans. Rakil was self employed and he was proud of that fact, even when hunger would made presence in his house. Banouin admired him for that, the older merchant depended on nobody, and he could travel whenever he wished. However, traveling alone was much more dangerous than traveling on caravans, and Banouin knew that well. But he still preferred to follow his teacher’s way.


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## sauronbill (Sep 22, 2005)

For three days Banouin continued his trip with no difficulty. His lucky hat was certainly working. The hat was given to him by another merchant as a gift. The day after that he had gambled in a game of dice where he made 10 times the quantity he had bet. Since that day, that conical blue hat had become his lucky charm. Everywhere he went he would wear it, no matter what people say about it. It’s true that the hat was old and the fabric was worn away, exposing the wooden rim beneath, but Banouin wouldn’t have trade it for all the gold in the world. It wasn’t until the fourth day when his luck began to fail. 

He came upon five men wearing black cloaks. There were no smiles from the newcomers, who blocked the road and waited grimfaced. Something inside of him jumped. 

“Stay calm, stay calm please,” he said placing a hand in his chest. His heart was beating much harder than normal; fear had made its way there already. Banouin tried to control himself. He truly did not wish another bloodbath. He lifted his hand in greeting and edged his horse forward, the ponies followed him. The men were armed, three had clubs, one a curved saber and the other had a hunting bow. They seemed tough, and their manner showed they were tensed for action. Banouin hoped his tongue could calm their hearts. “A fine morning,” he said forcing a smile.” May Dannam smile upon you travelers, and more importantly may he smile upon your families as well. “

“I know you, “said the lead rider, a young man with a blond mustache and braided hair. He was the one wearing the saber. ”You are the merchant who brought honey sweets to the village of Grodug in the winter. Your name is Banouin, am I right?”

“Yes,” said the merchant now relaxing,” but you must forgive me for I don’t seem to remember you. Have we met before?”

“Only briefly,” said the man. “I was a child then, but you made quite an impression in me. I wouldn’t have recognized you, if it weren’t for your blue hat. “ 

“Now I remember,” said Banouin smiling. ”You stole one of my bags of honey sweets and ate it with your friends. Your father gave you a good beating for it, and he offered to pay me in ale. I think your name was Arg? Was that it?”

The man laughed aloud. “Actually is Argol My friends call me Arg. Are you carrying any honey sweets now?”

“Not this time my friend. But you are a long way from your village. Is everything well back in your home?”

“Everything is fine,” said Argol smiling. “But is not my home anymore. I’ve been disbanded from there. “

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Banouin. “I am sure you’ll find some other village in which to stay. A man should always have a home.”

“Maybe,” said Argol, and this time his eyes turned cold. “But for now I would be happy if you gave me your ponies. “

Banouin’s smile disappeared. “What?”, he asked as if he had not understood the statement, also he understood it perfectly. 

“What you heard merchant,” said Argol, and his men surrounded Banouin. “Give me your ponies and you won’t be hurt, I promise. But if you resist I’ll have to take your life too.”

Banouin got down from his horse. Two of the bandits got close to him, their hands closed hard on their clubs. Banouin had no doubt that they would kill him if he made a suspicious mood. Their eyes showed no fear. They had certainly done this before. 

“Please Argol,” said Banouin turning the leader. “I thought we were friends. Friends don’t rob each other”

“You are not a friend of mine, merchant. I am truly sorry to do this to you but these are hard times, and our survival depends on what we catch on the road.” He turned to the other two men. “Take the ponies to our hideout. We’ll head to Five Peaks tomorrow and trade whatever we can. “ 

The two men went toward the ponies. Banouin gave a step toward Argol, but one of the men hit him in the belly with his club. Banouin's knees buckled. The men that had hit him grabbed his arms, while Banouin gasped for air. The blow had been savage, and had most probably broken a rib.

“Stay calm Banouin,” said Argol, his voice showing his anger. “Be thankful that we are leaving you alive. Merchandise is not worth your life. You can always get everything back. “

“I am sorry Argol,” said Banouin still gasping for air. He felt the familiar fury rushing on his veins, and he knew it was too late for Argol and his men. 

“Sorry for what?”

“For your death,” said the merchant. The mocking laugh of the bandit leader was the last thing he heard. Darkness covered him then, and Banouin knew they were dead.


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## sauronbill (Sep 27, 2005)

CHAPTER 2: DON’T MAKE ME BLUE

Palax was worried. At the age of 47 he was the leader of the biggest band of outlaws of the whole region: The Gray Wolves. The number of the band was now over 50 good hardened mountain men. To think he had been a farmer once made him laugh. No, this was life. To raise small villages and rob caravans. Palax enjoyed the rush of the battle, as well as the terror he had seen on the men he had slain. Looking back Palax felt he should have been a soldier. He loved giving orders. Today was a different manner however. Today was a sad and strange day. His young nephew Argol had died, and he was trying to figure out what had happened. 

"So, did you find anything?", asked Palax to the hunter Ganan. He was a man in his early twenties, but his skills in tracking were amazing. He could have tracked a damned ant in the jungle if he had wanted to, Palax didn't doubt he could. 

"Yep," said Ganan, his voice was deep. "Argol and his men seemed to have a confrontation with some small caravan. It had ten ponies and a horse. I could be wrong, but I think only one man faced them."

"One man?” asked Palax shocked. "Impossible. Argol had four good men, and they were all armed. There is no way one single man could have beat them all. Are you sure it was a caravan and not soldiers? They could have been looking to set a trap for our band." 

"No. I am sure it was a caravan", said the tracker. "See those prints of hooves on the ground? They're light, meaning they were small horses, ponies more likely, and they weren't carrying something as heavy as men in armor. Also the prints are all in a line, meaning that the horses were tied together. They also stopped, probably when they saw Argol and his men. Had it been a group of soldiers they would have attacked immediately. "

"Then it could have been a group of armed merchants, or other outlaws."

"It could have. As I said I could be wrong about the number, but I only see one set of prints different from that of Argol and his men."

"So it was only one man who killed them? He must have been one skilled warrior."

"I never said a man killed them."

"What, you mean it wasn't a man? What could have been then? A lion?"

"Nope, more like a bear."

"A bear?” asked the old man and he almost laughed. "Now I know you are wrong. You know very well there are no bears in these forests Ganan. I see your skills are not as sharp as people say."

"It is because of my skills that you hired me as part of your band, old man," answered the tracker. "And it is my skills the ones that tell me it was a bear and not a man. Here I'll show you." Then Ganan turned around heading to the place where they had found the bodies

Palax didn't like to return there. Not one bit because once was enough. They had found his nephew and the others in a huge pond of blood. Actually they had found what was left of them because there were parts missing from the bodies, in fact many parts. Argol's birth mark on his left leg was the only thing that distinguished him from the rest; otherwise they couldn't have pointed him out. It seemed that whoever had done this (be men or animal) had its fun with the bodies by hacking them to pieces. Some of the men that were with Palax had puke when they saw the scene. He hadn't, but he had not touched them either. Instead he had sent his men to bury those bodies. He had sent those with the stronger stomach of course, for like him many of his men didn't want to even touch the bodies, or be anywhere close to it. 

"Here", said Ganan and he pointed to the ground like if it was necessary. A huge red stain of dried blood covered now the place where the bodies have been. 

"Yes, I can see it," said Palax.

"Not the blood stain, but the prints. See?" he said kneeling and pointing to something on the grass. The tracker was right; there were prints of something huge, something with claws too. “The prints are deep, which means weight. No lion or other feline beast could weight that much, or have such talons for that matter. So it's a bear, a big one too. "

"Strange. The closest bears we have are far to the east in the lands of the Senth. Why would a bear travel all the way here by itself? More importantly what are the chances that that single bear could find Argol and the others in all this forest? Do you think the caravan brought the bear?"

"Seems unlikely, but then again it's possible. The prints of the bear seem to get lost in the forest."

"Then he might be close," said Palax at the time that he jumped on his horse. Ganan did the same. "Lead the way tracker, we'll follow." Ganan rode into the forest, Palax and two dozens of his men followed. "I want that bear's head in a lance before sunset!" shouted Palax. "Ten silver coins to the first man who spots him!!!


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## sauronbill (Sep 27, 2005)

***​
Banouin sat under a magnolia tree contemplating his ponies at the time that he sipped the wine from his leather canteen. Slowly he was starting to forget what had happened. The wine was already making effect and that was good for he didn't want to remember nothing of it. Argol and his men hadn't deserved to die in such horrible way. They were bad men, but no man deserves that death. He was merged in these thoughts when a shadow flew over him. In fact it flew so close that its wings brushed the top of his head. Banouin turned around to see a snowy owl fly to the closest branch and settle there. 

"Pardon me my good merchant," said the owl. Her eyes were bright and blue and full of intelligence. Her voice was womanly and very articulate also she hooted every few words. "Would you mind telling me if you have seen an incredible ugly man by the name of Banouin? Booo...."

"No, I haven't seen him" said Banouin at the time that a smile appeared in his face. "But I'll be sure to tell him that a snowy talking owl is looking for him when I do. I am sure that will put a smile on his face." 

The merchant raised his arm; the owl flew toward it and landed in its forearm. Banouin kissed the owl's temple, and she hooted in happiness. Her bright blue eyes met the green ones of the merchant. 

"Oh, but is wonderful to see you Blue!!!" Banouin said with excitement. "I have missed you.”

"I bet you haven't," said the owl and she hooted a couple of times. "You were probably too busy with some woman to even think about me. Frankly I don't know why I come back," she hooted differently this time, so different that it came out like a strange screeching sound. But Banouin knew she was laughing. 

"Come now Blue” smiled Banouin. "You know you are my favorite lady," and he kissed the owl's temple once more and once more she hooted in happiness. 

"And how many times do I have to tell you that my name is not Blue? It's Pegg. Blue is a color, not the name for an owl."

"No matter what your name is you'll always be Blue to me. I name you like that for your eyes. They are as blue as the great sea."

"Then I shall call you Whiner," said Blue at the time that she made her hooting laugh. "For your whining is as infinite as the great blue sky. "

The two friends talked for a long while, enjoying each others company. Banouin felt very happy of seeing her old friend again. Blue had come into his life two years ago, when he had rescued her from a hunter who wanted her as a trophy, for talking owls are not your everyday creature. Banouin had fought the hunter and nurtured the owl back to health. Blue had almost died from the wound caused by the hunter's arrow. Since that day they became the best of friends. They met every time Banouin was on the road, and sometimes at night when he was in the cities. The moments he had spent with Blue had been the happiest of his life. From all the people he had known in his life Blue was the only one that understood him. Maybe it was because she wasn't human. Unlike men, Blue didn't fear what she didn't understood; quite the contrary. 

"Did you talked to the Tree of Wisdom?" asked Banouin his voice expressing his sadness. 

"No, I wanted to see you first," said Blue. Banouin didn't answered at first, but she knew that he would. The owl knew very well the true nature of her friend and she was more than careful when approaching the theme of what he was. Most men would have killed themselves, but Banouin was not like most men. He was strong, and it was that strength that kept him alive. However, he was most unhappy and Blue was aware of that. 

"Do we have to talk about this again, Blue?" asked the merchant. 

"Yes we have," said the owl. "The Tree of Wisdom will offer only advice my friend, not a solution. You'll always be what you are. "

"And what is that?"

"A man, and a bear my dear friend. I have told you the name of your kind, they are called the beorning. You are not unique in this world; there are others like you out there. You must go to them and learn. Why don't you come with me to the Gorong Forest? Many beornings live there, they could help you."

"Help me? Help me be what?" asked Banouin, his voice spilling sarcasm. "Help me be a freak? Something that has no place in this world? Something that is neither bear nor men? No Blue, I am a man and nothing else. This other part of me is just a mindless beast, a curse set upon me since I was born. No one can help me except the Tree of Wisdom. You say he will offer no solution, but I think you are wrong. I believe there is a cure to this curse, there has to be. The Tree of Wisdom must know it."

"He can't change what you are my friend. No one can."

"I think you underestimate his knowledge."

"And I think you overestimate it." 

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. We won't know until you see him. Will you go see him for me Blue? Would you do this favor for an old friend?"

"I will Banouin, for your sake I will."

"When are you leaving?"

"I'll accompany you to Five Peaks. You need the company and so do I. I'll leave after that."


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## sauronbill (Sep 27, 2005)

"Then let's go", said the merchant. 


For ten days Banouin and Blue traveled together talking and laughing. Banouin felt at peace for the first time in many months. The time with Mara had been pleasant, but he had always been afraid of say or do the wrong thing. With Blue there were no boundaries. He could talk about anything without embarrassment, even about what he was. 

“If you didn’t go to the Gorong Forest, what did you do in all the time we were separated?”, asked Banouin on one fresh night. He was sitting in a boulder looking at the sky in awe. The stars were shining and there was a full moon. He loved summer nights. 

“The same thing I always do,” answered the owl. She was settled on Banouin’s knee. “Hunt for mice, fly around and sleep.”

“Don’t you get bored with that?”, asked the merchant 

“Why would I? You humans think everything is so complicated. That the gods are controlling you like string puppets. “

“Are you saying there are no gods?”

“I’m an owl. I don’t give a rat’s tail if there are gods or not. I say live, eat, sleep, procreate and forget everything else. Humans should learn that lesson instead of cutting each other’s heads off just for being different, or having different beliefs. “

“But you can talk. Surely that makes you different.”

“Don’t be confused, my friend. I know many languages, but that doesn’t change what I am. I am an owl at heart, and if you are implying that my kind has a problem with me just because I speak the human tongue, you are dead wrong. My peers treat me like one more of the group.”

“I wish it would be that way with my peers,” said the merchant.

“Like I said, you humans are too complicated. You fear what you can’t control.”

“All of a sudden you are a philosopher?”

“Heavens no!! Please, if I am starting to sound human feel free to pull out one of my feathers, the pain will bring me back from the madness.” Banouin laughed out loud and with that the argument was over. 




In the following month he and Blue had a lot of fun together. The land was beautiful and full of forests that made the trip harder, but Banouin never even noticed. One night four wolves came to their encampment attracted by the smell of the deer’s meat that Banouin was roasting. They came as close as ten feet, growling and showing their teeth. Banouin rose and they scattered away. 

“What do you think scared them away?” asked Blue. She was settled in a tree close by. 

“They smelled who I was” said the merchant. His guilt was palpable. Blue knew why. He had told her years ago about the incident that scarred his life years ago, and she knew he still had nightmares about it. It was the reason of why he hated what he was. Blue couldn’t help but feel pity for her friend. 

“It was not your fault Banouin,” said Blue trying to ease his pain. The merchant didn’t meet her eyes.

“It was my fault, “said Banouin,” no one else. I don’t remember what happened but I can still smell his blood on my hands, Blue. I can feel his screams on my dreams. ”

“Tomorrow I go, my friend” said the owl. “I promise you I’ll come back with an answer.”


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