By the time the children reached the market square, it was already bustling with all sorts of diverse folk. Yuki held on to Leo for dear life, as though afraid she'd be lost in the crowd forever. Despite the sun only just having risen, everyone acted as if they were in an immediate rush.
The port city wasn't that large, but the market boomed whenever it was open. On one hand you had the locals, selling every extra vegetable they could afford to scrounge up from the rocky hills. On the other, a cacophony of weird dialects met as peddlers from afar took to shore.
Malta had no lack of farmers, but there wasn't much fertile land to go around. As such, most of the local population was sustained on fish, berries and vegetables. The rest was imports, the influx of which naturally required the town to be a producer of something worth exporting in turn.
The answer was best summed up as "misery" — Valetta's main export was moral depravity. Be it in the form of exotic slaves, of stolen goods or smuggled items, they all traded hands here. It became the backyard of pirates, thieves and gamblers from all over the Mediterranean.
Leo was surprisingly well-acquainted with this dark underbelly of the historical city. He led her through a few corners and before long made it to an obscure spot near the docks. Judging from the sign, it seemed to be some sort of store too, albeit an abandoned one. Nevertheless, he ignored the front door and made it out back, where he removed two loose planks covering a hole in the wall.
Ensuring no one else saw them, he made his way through and covered the exit behind him. Yuki fidgeted and held even tighter to him. The place had no windows, so it took them some time to get adjusted to the lack of light. The sound of snoring became their guide, inviting them deeper in the store.
A dead-drunk man laid sprawled on the table, his mug still reeking of cheap alcohol. Leo didn't leave the reluctant Yuki behind, and dragged her along to sit opposite the man. Seeing the man still fast asleep, he grinned then punched the table twice with his fist.
"Old man, you've got customers!"
There was little respect to speak of out here in the streets, and Leo knew better than to feign civility with the old thief. Normally, he'd have more respect for the elderly, but hypocrisy wouldn't get him far in these alleys.
"Who!? Wha—!? Ah, it's you, brat… Why are you so fucking early…" the man groaned as if having an ax stuck in his skull.
He ignored the duo and hobbled unsteadily to wash his face in a bucket. Sobering up a little before making his way back, he impatiently dropped like a sack on the chair, "Well, bring it out, then."
Leo briskly took a pouch out from a pocket he'd sewn in his inner shirt. He emptied the contents on the table before listing with a clear voice.
"A silver ring, the velvet-silk pouch itself, and 3 silvers into local bronze currency, please."
The man studied the ring closely against the mottled rays of sun piercing the wall before nodding subtly. He then examined the pouch itself, expertly assessing its worth. Finally. he gnawed his teeth on the silver coin, before spitting out in satisfaction.
"Hmm. The silver goes for 28 Tari. The pouch can add up to another 20. As for the ring, it's well made so about 130."
"What? The pouch is from Venetian silk. Any merchant will take it for at least 2 gold! Old man, you're swindling me again!"
Despite Leonardo's vehement protests and comical gestures, the man didn't seem annoyed in the least. 'T was business as usual for them. Even if the runt was a quarter of his weight, he sure had a quick tongue. Perhaps Leo aggravated his head-ache too much, because he ultimately relented.
"Fine, you foul brat. 150 for the pouch, but you'll need to wait. I haven't got that much bronze handy."
"It's fine. I'll pick it up next week."
As can be surmised, the tari was the standard coinage in the Sicilian kingdom. There were dozens of foreign currencies changing hands in Valetta alone, but for simplicity's sake, the denominations scaled based on material and weight.
Bronze or brass alloys passed off in decimal exchanges, and were about as overlooked as the modern day penny.
Copper coins equaled a single Tari. Despite the Sicilian mint only endorsing one currency, there were at least a dozen types that Leo alone had come across. This would normally be a nightmare for a modern day market, but in Valetta it traded just fine.
Silver scudo were worth 10 Tari on average. Some weighed more than others, but most people weren't experts in alloys. If it had a recognizable imprint, it was worth 10 tari. Few people bothered to test for forgery, or even knew it was possible.
Gold dinars came first place in high-end trades. A single coin was worth 100 tari, effectively 10 silver. They were often of quality mint and scrutinized more closely. Your average tradesman rarely came into contact with gold, however.
Even further up were trades made in solid gold bars. The weight was adjusted so each ingot was rounded up at either 1000, 5000, or 10000 Tari in value.
In essence, currencies were total chaos at that time. Rather than account for each coin and their separate gold or silver percentage, low level folk called everything small and made of copper a tari. They didn't bother with whose face was etched on their coin as long as they could buy stuff with it.
As for the reason Leonardo sought to trade his gold and silver into bronze, it's merely a matter of staying low-key. After all, an orphan whipping out gold coins in the market was bound to raise a few eyebrows. As for the weight and density, he never accumulated enough of it to have to worry about space.
"Alright, we're out. Don't drink so much and have some water. Oh, and thanks, old man."
Setting the planks back in place and leaving the man to groan away in misery, Leo led Yuki through the market corners and bought a few snacks, instantly wiping out a dozen tari from his purse.
As the girl cheerily stuffed herself with food, they came across an unusually dense crowd near a market stall. Curious, he pushed Yuki forward and waddled their way through the crowd, coming up to the front. Yuki covered her mouth with a startled yelp and recoiled back, clinging to Leo without even noticing she'd dropped her favorite food.
A gruesome scene played out in front of them. A boy, no older than their age, was being pummeled with a wooden plank over his hands. His fingers were gnarled and broken by the time they got there. What little flesh remained stuck to dislodged bones that were pointing in entirely unnatural ways.
A brawny bear of a man sat on top of him and continuously battered the kid against the ground. None of the bystanders seemed to find it abnormal, and the more callous ones even relished the spectacle.
"I'll see how you can steal now, you bastard! Let's see how you can stuff yourself without hands. Ptooy, scum."
As the boy collapsed unconscious from one too many impacts against the ground, the man finally spat and walked off along with the dispersing crowd. The child lay there like a rag, his fate's trajectory unknown — but very bleak.
Leo sighed, "Another one caught."
Dragging Yuki closer, he whispered into her ear with great solemness, deciding to use the pitiful spectacle to drive a harsh point.
"Yuki. You must keep my secret, lest we both end up like him. Promise to watch your words, okay?"
"I understand, brother Leo. I promise…" The timid girl looked somewhat absent-minded at the mangled boy, before finally squinting in acknowledged fear and looking away. As if unsure of something, she then clung on to Leo to ask, "Can you save him, big brother?"
The request surprised Leonardo, who had expected the girl to be traumatized by the reviling display. Her calmness and quick oversight left him slightly stunned.
'Hmm,' his eyes flickered with a subtle emerald radiance, Leonardo examined the boy closely. Feeling his still vibrant life source decay by the minute, he couldn't help but lament the frailty of humans. As he sensed the tampered blood flow in the victim, and the inevitable infection to come, he sighed in resignation.
Coming closer as if to disprove his own theory, he laid a pair of fingers on the boy's wrist. His mastery of Vita was too weak, as was his magic. As a Virtus 1 mage he could at most examine his condition and know what is wrong. To actually cure him, he'd need to rely on medicine and modern skills, which were frankly incomplete and imperfect.
There was little to be done, so he ultimately shook his head, "I can't. Not yet. I'm sorry, Yuki."
The boy lamented fate with a rueful sigh, then set to depart.
Yet, one soul was too gentle to give up just yet, "So, you will be able to save him later?"
Her eyes shone with such radiant expectation, that Leo had no choice but to do a double take.