Sometimes she really hated this position. Checking cargo entering the city had at first seemed like an interesting job, and at times it was. There were many things that she was able to see that she wouldn't be able to have otherwise.
Rare spices that only the riches of nobles could afford, rare silks, pieces of exquisite artwork, and even food delicacies that she'd only ever heard about.
However, those were rare occasions. Some came through more frequently during some seasons than others, such as Hisashi Mushrooms in the winter. Though, those mushrooms were at the lower end of the delicacies that she wouldn't be able to afford to begin with.
As it is, she was stuck inspecting the cargo this slave caravan was bringing through as the customs officer. Which meant she had to see each slave, check their teeth, note every scar, blemish, and injury – new or old, and make sure that they didn't exhibit any symptoms of any disease. Especially spotted plague.
The last part is what annoyed her the most about this job. Some of the slaves that came through here were clearly captured from a bandit raid or whatever, but it wasn't her job to investigate that. All she had to do was make sure they had the proper paperwork, make sure that the slaves were healthy enough to be sold, and then that was it.
Even if the spotted plague wasn't usually contagious when it first showed signs, she still didn't like being that close to anyone with it. Not only was the quarantine process a big pain, but then she, like pretty much everyone else she'd ever known, didn't want to catch it to begin with.
With a high mortality rate and no cure or treatment, all they could do typically was lay there and die. Not something anyone she'd ever met would want to have happen.
Which meant that the fifth slave she had to examine in the group that was in front of her that had a small bright purple spot on her ankle, meant the entire wagon had to be quarantined, and she along with them, in addition to the people who were in charge of those slaves.
Some days she really hated this job.
However, with only a single spot on the slave girl, that meant if it was the spotted plague, then it was clearly early on in its stages, so that would mean her catching it was rather low.
Still, since all the slaves were then put in the same cage as that girl, she'd have to eventually hear about the loss the caravan was taking on those slaves. Since the plague would certainly spread through all of them, meaning if they were incredibly lucky, one of those slaves would survive while all the others were certainly going to die.
Still, rules were rules and if the people in charge of the caravan didn't like it, well, she had a superior who could deal with them. It wasn't like she was the one who had to field the complaints.
She'd only get dragged into the complaints if she had at any point bypassed, ignored, or flat out broke any of the rules. Which was always a pain when she forgot a rule or another, but these were ones that she knew very well. Rules that would have her end up as a slave if she was found to have tried even bending a single one.
Yet, as she watched the slaves being filed into the cage, she couldn't help but notice that several others had several more spots on them. Which made her wonder what these caravan people were thinking. They should know that this would happen if they tried to bring anyone into the city who had the plague.
The only explanation she could come up with was that it was a recent infection, though she wouldn't be able to say how recent. Only that someone was probably going to be in deep trouble after this was over. Someone who worked with the caravan. As she knew she'd covered all her bases and didn't have anything to fear about it.
Then as she was about to head over to where she'd be spending her time quarantined, she noticed a slave inside the quarantined cage was staring at a pile of contraband. Specifically, a Hisushi Mushroom.
The slave had brown hair, green eyes, and was holding her arms and hands to cover herself, which was an oddity in itself. As if slaves ever cared about such things. At least not if they weren't ordered to wear something.
The custom officer smiled to herself. Of course even a slave would be looking for the quick way out when faced with the slow death the spotted plague promised. She herself was confident that she'd be tempted to take that route herself if she even came down with the plague.
The odd behavior was easily enough dismissed. Some slaves were just different. Besides, it wasn't like it actually did anything or had any real effect.
She walked over and tossed the mushroom to the slave. There wasn't any rule about that, although it skirted on the rules about caring for the slaves passing through here, and even if the slave was merely thinking of using this as an excuse to try and use that mushroom on whoever bought her, then they'd find it on her if she actually survived this.
After she saw the slave catch the blue-spotted mushroom, she turned to continue on her way when she heard a sound. Not like the usual ones she heard, but more along the lines of a groan or moan… or something.
She turned to look at the girl who started to gesture to her about something when the girl realized that she had the attention she clearly was looking for.
Sighing, the customs officer walked over and stopped about three arm lengths from the cage. The slave girl then started motioning like she was drinking something. The customs officer looked at her for a minute, not sure what to make of this behavior. Though, she wasn't sure what she could do.
If she was reading this correctly, then the girl was asking for water, which would be a clear violation of the rules. As that would be offering care for a slave that wasn't hers.
"What's going on here?" one of the people in charge of the slaves asked, walking over.
"This girl seemed to want to get my attention," the officer replied. "I think she's thirsty."
"What's it to you?" the caravan woman asked, sounding like she was trying to pick a fight, not that the customs officer could blame her.
"Nothing really," she replied. "Just wondering why the girl won't ask for it in the first place."
There wasn't any real reason to get combative over this. It wasn't uncommon for those trying to pass through to get upset at having to be quarantined here.
"Oh, her," the caravan woman said dismissively, as if the girl not being able to speak explained everything. "Yeah, she was a recent acquisition, though we can't say why she can't talk."
"I see," the customs officer said.
"Though, did you give her that mushroom?"
"Yeah, I saw her staring at it. I mean, it's contraband, but if she wants to take the quick way out instead of getting the spotted plague, then it's not like any rules were put up to stop that."
"Think she wants to drink some water to wash the mushroom down?" the woman asked, sounding like she found the whole situation funny.
The customs officer shook her head. She really didn't know, nor did she really care. "Don't know," she merely replied. "All I can say is that I can't give her any because that would be a direct violation of the rules."
"If you gave me water and I gave it to that slave girl, would that violate the rules?" the caravan woman asked, sounding like she had something in mind.
"Not really. The rules merely forbid me from giving anything to the slaves that would be considered caring for them. If I gave you water, then if you gave it to a slave, that's your business. I can't tell you what to do, so it's not violating any rules," she told the caravan woman, unsure if she should allow this herself or not.
"Well get me some water. I want to see where this goes," the caravan woman said, her expression becoming rather malicious.
The customs officer sighed. She was sure the caravan woman merely wanted to see how it would look to have the girl eat the Hisushi Mushroom. Not that the customs officer could blame her. It wasn't like these slaves were real people, plus they only knew that the Hisushi Mushrooms were poisonous and fatal if eaten. What that looked like when a person was dying from a Hisushi Mushroom wasn't clear.
So, she went and got a mug of water, not sure what else to do. Besides, it wasn't like she'd get in trouble for this. It was merely something to find some entertainment in this quarantine, no matter how short lived it was.
When she returned with it, she handed it to the woman, who in turn walked towards the slave girl.
When the mug was offered to the girl, she hesitated. What the girl was thinking the customs officer couldn't imagine. She had indicated that she wanted water, but now she wasn't reaching out for it? What was that girl thinking?
The slave girl looked like she was reaching out for the mug for a moment, but then her arm stopped. She looked like she was thinking something over. The caravan woman glanced back at the customs officer, a look of confusion on her face, which the customs officer could only return.
The odd behavior of this slave seemed to only become more odd. Almost like she was as intelligent as a person rather than just a slave. Which of course, couldn't be the case.
Then, the girl moved her and with the fingers pointing upward, forming to a point, before she started wiggling her fingers, like they were supposed to be mimicking something. As she started to consider that, an image of water over a fire popped into her mind. As if it was put in there by someone directly.
The customs officer couldn't help but look around. Was there someone with magic who could do that here? She wasn't sure, but it also didn't seem like it was an attack or anything.
"Think she wants us to heat the water up?" the caravan woman asked, like she had the same thought as the customs officer.
"I guess," the customs officer replied. She didn't really care, but it was strange that the girl would want the water heated.
Was there some reason for that? Or was this just more odd behavior that had no explanation either?
"Though, I can't imagine why she'd want hot water to go with that mushroom," she added after a moment as the caravan woman poured the mug into a pot before putting it over a fire she started where the customs officer normally cooked her meals.
"Maybe, but we don't really have much information about her. Maybe she wants to eat the mushroom like a soup?"
The customs officer shrugged. "Who knows with the slaves. It's not like they can do anything important useful without direction, right?"
"Yeah, I hear that a lot, but then some people who buy the slaves seem to think that they're capable of just as much as you or me," the caravan woman replied conversationally. "Who knows which side is right. All I care about is getting paid."
The customs officer smiled at that. "Yeah, I guess it doesn't really matter. It is a job after all anyway," she said, glancing back at the slave girl who was holding the Hisushi Mushroom in her hand while she used that hand to also shield her chest from view and had her gaze focused on the pot set above the flames of the fire.
"Still, wish I knew more about that girl," the caravan woman muttered. "She creeps me out. At first we thought she'd be like any other, but then when we had her examined just to make sure that she couldn't use magic we learned she couldn't talk. Not only that, but she doesn't seem like she's been put to work in a field or anything. She looks like she has to have been pampered, but then she also looks like she's spent more time outside than you have."
The customs officer looked closely at the girl whose gaze wasn't wavering from the pot of water. The girl looked rather masculine herself, which was a little odd in itself, but it didn't stop there. She could see the muscle tone of the girl, which clearly showed that she didn't spend her time sitting around all day, like many of the real pampered slaves she'd seen, but at the same time, she didn't have the weather worn appearance even the young field slaves had. Then there was the lack of scars. This girl was nearly free of any kind of scars, which either meant she was exceptionally well behaved or she had only recently become a slave.
This girl really was an enigma.
Not that her job required her to do anything about things like that. All she had to do was make sure that none of the slaves posed any health issues that could negatively affect the market. Yet, despite herself, she couldn't help but feel intrigued about this slave girl.
The caravan woman didn't say anything more and the customs officer couldn't think of anything else to say. Although, it wasn't like she was used to conversing with others like this anyway. Even when she'd get quarantined like this, even since the previous customs officer had died from the spotted plague, she typically kept her distance from the people coming through.
She never saw a reason to get involved with them, so it wasn't like she had any reason to most of the time. This occasion was more because she and the woman from the caravan merely found a topic that they both apparently found a common interest in.
Then before she realized it, the water in the pot had started boiling. She only realized that when the woman from the caravan pulled it off the flames.
"Hey, was it necessary to wait for it to boil?" the customs officer asked, mildly curious as to what the slave girl's reaction would be.
"Not my problem," the caravan woman replied as she poured the water back into the mug, sounding like she was curious as what the reaction was going to be. "That girl wanted the water heated, so if she doesn't like it boiling, then that's her problem."
The customs officer shrugged. It didn't really matter anyway. It wasn't like the girl would survive long after eating that mushroom anyway.
She watched the caravan woman take the mug over to the girl. As she held out the mug to the girl, the girl merely dropped the mushroom into the water, making the customs officer speculate about if the girl wanted to eat the mushroom as a soup or something.
Then as the girl took the mug in her hands with a look of satisfaction, she looked like she was about to turn away, but then suddenly stopped. She looked around, clearly looking for something before looking back at the caravan woman and using her free hand, she made a circular motion with her palm flat. Like she was trying to communicate something again.
Though, the only thing that came to the customs officer's minds was that the girl wanted a cloth. Not that she had any idea what the girl would want the cloth for anyway.
The caravan woman turned back to the customs officer. "Any idea what she wants now?"
"No clue," she replied. "All I can think of is maybe a cloth." She looked around, not really sure where she'd find a cloth anyway. Aside from the bolts of cloth traders brought through, she generally didn't have anything like that in here.
"What about that scrap?" the caravan woman asked, pointing to a corner a distance away.
The customs officer looked, and saw the bucket she used as a privy. Normally she wouldn't have thought about it having any significance herself, but she did see the cloth she'd use to wipe herself when she had solid waste come out.
As such, it wasn't like anyone in the caravan would likely object to the slave girl being given that piece of scrap cloth. It was barely bigger than a person's hand and, given the use she'd been using it for, it certainly didn't smell very good.
The customs officer walked over and picked up the cloth and casually walked back, holding it out to the slave girl. Which apparently brought out another peculiarity about the girl: she leaned away from the offered piece of cloth and looked disgusted.
However, a moment later, that look of disgust turned into a look of resignation. Almost like she was willing to accept the cloth despite her disgust with it.
Though, when she took the cloth from the custom officer's hand, the girl paused for a moment to give the cloth a disgusted look before dropping it in the water with the mushroom.
The customs officer exchanged a look with the caravan woman before the started following the slave girl, who apparently had lost interest in covering her body now and was moving through the other slaves in the cage they shared.
Maybe it was that fact of the fact that the customs officer and the single woman from the caravan were watching what that girl was doing that others seemed to notice and start watching as well.
The girl surprised the customs officer as she willingly got close to the other slaves who had the spotted plague and reached her hand into the mug and pulled out the cloth.
Then she began to use the cloth to wipe down the bodies of the slaves whose bodies were covered in spots. Almost like she was treating them or something. Like doing this might actually help the plague. After a minute of wiping the body of the other slave, the girl dipped the cloth in the mug again before continuing the process.
The customs officer had to admit, she'd never seen this sort of reaction to the plague before. Usually everyone tried to stay as far away from the people with the plague as possible, even other slaves typically had that reaction.
Then to her disbelieving eyes, the spots started falling to the ground. Almost like they were leaves that had just gotten stuck to the slave's skin rather than a sign of a death mark on the individual's body.
"Are you seeing this?" the customs officer heard one of the caravan people ask, echoing the same thought that was going through her own mind.
The fact that the spots were falling off was a big deal. Not only was that not something she'd ever seen before with anyone who had the spotted plague, but it looked like the girl wasn't surprised at that at all.
Then when she finished with the first slave, she then started to work on another. With similar results. Which further continued to build the excitement around her.
The customs officer couldn't help but wonder if she was witnessing the birth of a treatment for the spotted plague. If this did turn out to be that, she couldn't help but wonder if this might be the last quarantine she had to endure.
Yet, after the girl was only partway done with the third slave who had the plague, the girl turned to the crowd and held out the mug to them after taking the mushroom back out. No one reacted, and it was clear to the customs officer that they weren't sure what she wanted.
"Think she wants more boiling water?" she asked out loud, partly wondering if the Hisushi Mushroom was important in what the girl was doing to remove the spots.
If that turned out to be the case, she couldn't help but wonder if she might also soon see the Hisushi Mushroom removed from the list of contraband. Although, she couldn't help but wonder if it might become more complicated than just having that happen.
After all, she wasn't sure how she was going to explain this happening in the first place. Aside from the confirmation that the spotted plague had been seen here and a sign that the slaves weren't going to all die, there wasn't going to be any signs of what happened here. Almost like it was magic in itself.