“Yes. He is one of the signs… along with a broom,” and she points up clearly indicating the building they are in, “a bird, and a horse. Both fast moving creatures but wildly different from each other. Unless it is a flightless bird… I could not tell, it is none that I know.” Turning to Ruedi, “These are the ones that seemed… suspicious?”
Benedict haggles over the price a polite amount, then settles the arrangement for the following morning. He makes sure he understands whether or not Gwenaël will able to take horses and wagons, but he assumes the magi can do something about that - shrink them and put them in a box, maybe? - if the boat can't take them.
Obstetrix looks at Cath'rinne raising her eyebrow "A horse and bird you say? And just what are those signs for?"
“I am unsure. The riddle appeared on my calf yesterday morning after the stigmata led me to Calais. I was surprised to see a man with a red hat entering a door marked by a broom… symbols are… well, they are rarely so overt… I can only think of once before.”
"Stigmata? On your calf? Are you some kind of prophetess?"
“No. I will show you.” Betula stands and places her foot on the chair then lifts her skirt and rolls down the sock. From under her shoe and sock are tattoo-like designs that seem to have a plant-like quality, vines, roots, branches. Four around her calf end in each of the head of a broom, triangle that might be a redcap’s hat though it’s definitely not red, a horse’s head, and a vulture’s head. “They tell me where I have been… and sometimes where I am going.”
Horses and carts, ok maybe the handcart, will not fit in the boat. Only the largest ships can safely transport livestock, and Gwenaël has not seen one in town for years. The only viable option is to sell horses and carts, and buy new ones on the other side.
(I do not want to spend a lot of time roleplaying those exchanges. Rather we assume that it can be settled, with a financial loss which is negligible in the total expenditure over a season. Unless, of course, the magi want to down- or upscale their transport.)
Finn approaches Gwenael and asks in French “Can I get passage across the channel with this group?” Pointing at the magi and grogs.
"That's interesting, I've never seen the likes of this before. I don't know what the future holds, but I think you might belong with us. I have a feeling the Horse's head might point towards me, f the cap led you to the redcap, and the broom to this inn."
Gwenaël hesitates. «I think you had better ask them about that. I sort of ... or I'll see what i can do. Tuppence?» he asks. Benedict had just concluded the conversation, when he hears Finn approaching Gwenaël. They speak the same language, but now it is just gibberish to Benedict, until the fisherman suddently turns to address him. «Wait, Benedict. How many people are you exactly? How much luggage?»
"The plants on your skin talk to you about the future? Well that's a new one. There's no tombstone yet, so I guess that's a good portent." Cath'rinne chuckles, clearly amused. "I'm Cath'rinne ex Bjornaer. Do you have a name, stranger?"
Looking surprised you asked she says, “yes, I have a name… Betula ex Criamon filia Verdulia… and you?”
Benedict does a mental count, of the two magi travelling with him, and the strange woman he met in the common room who he assumes was also a maga. Did she have a grog with her? He thought he'd seen someone with her... and there were the other grogs... He responds to Gwenaël, "No more than 9, no less than 7. I think we might be joining with another small party we just met. As for the luggage... well... I'll have to talk to them about that. But it will be a significant amount. Why do you ask?"
Again Gwenaël hesitates, glancing at Finn¹. «Oh. I am just planning how to make best use of the space.»
¹ With a Folk Ken of 6+ Benedict notices the guilty look; Finn does so at 9+ since they are not facing each other.
"I am Obstetrix von Bjornaer, pleased to meet you Sodale."
At the word ‘Bjornaer’ Betula’s eyes show a glint of understanding. “Considering that you think the horse’s head might reference you, does that make your other form that of the horse?”
"Indeed it is, though the journey here didn't afford me much chances to use it. Unfortunately, since part of my apprenticeship happened during the war, and our House has retreated to Crinthera, I hadn't had much chance to acquaint myself with other Houses, so am not very knowledgeable about House Criamon."
“We Criamon have also been sequestered at our Domus Magna…” a look of distaste crosses her face, “most of us anyway,” shaking her head in an apparent lack of understanding, “I was one of the first to leave. With word of the war mostly finished I hope to help repair the damage to my native land, Mercia. Thankfully I was able to show them the urgings of my Stigmata, otherwise I am not sure they would have let me leave. As it was, they didn’t want to… not one as young as myself.”
"The war is slowing down... the Diedne are losing. To say the war is over is an overstatement, I think. I think it's still alive in the Isles. And I hope it doesn't end too soon. I would like some bones to pick on."
“Like beetles?” Betula asks curiously, “one of the magi in The Cave was quite fascinated by insects and mentioned a beetle that can clean bones surprisingly quickly… I forget where he said is was supposed to be from.”