“Nasty place,” One fisherman said, as he repaired a net hanging beside a boat. “But pretty.”
“It’s the people that are nasty?” Carrion asked.
“Yep. Didn’t always be that way. A while back, a man could have a good time in Marlstone City.”
“What happened?”
“New people started moving in. Took over the businesses and made sailors unwelcome. Wouldn’t let them eat in restaurants. Closed most of them, anyhow. Only one Inn over there now, and you don’t dare say anything in it because the serving women are spies. Least that’s what they say. I haven’t been there in a few years.”
“It takes one of those big ships to get there?”
“Nope. There’s good fishing east of the Marlstones. A lot of this fleet used to go there for the big hauls, especially in the spring.”
Tanner looked out over the fleet, inspecting the boats, and noticed Carrion was doing the same. But it was Devlin who spoke. “These little boats can go all that way?”
The fisherman chuckled, but his hands never slowed with his net repairs. “Some prefer to take these. Fewer restrictions. Better yet, are the little frigates you used to see carrying mail and light cargo up and down the coast. Used to be quite a few of them crisscrossing the Endless Sea. They’re slim and fast, but carry next to nothing in the way of cargo.”
Carrion asked, “Why would they name it the Endless Sea if there’s another side to it?”
“That’s because once you’re out there in the middle of it, no matter the size boat, it looks and feels endless until you see land.”
“If those frigates don’t cross the sea anymore, what do they do?”
“Most got beached years ago when the need to carry a few people back and forth ended. Some still struggle to make ends meet, but the truth is they’re not much use for anything. Can’t carry enough fish or cargo to make it worthwhile. The only people who want them have a need to go fast. Smugglers and the like.”
“I see,” Carrion said. “I guess if nobody wants them, they beach the ships or sell them cheap. I’ve never seen ships like that.”
“If you look around here you’re in the wrong place. Up where the sailing ships dock, beyond them. Smaller docks there. Old ones almost falling down. You’ll see how worthless they are if you go up that way.”
A few more minutes of idle chat and Carrion motioned with a wink that it was time to go. They walked away from the fishing fleet and back to the cargo ships, and beyond. At the rickety piers were three smaller ships, narrow, and with masts looking too tall. An open deck covered most of the main deck, but a small door led to a deck below. Small round windows went from the bow to the stern, many of them open to the sea air.
Instead of approaching, Carrion steered the three of them close enough to read the names on the bows, but no closer. The Rose, the Edna, and the Far Seeker. He said the names out loud and looked at Tanner and Devlin. “This is what we’re going to do. None of us is going to show interest in any of those three ships, but I want to know everything about them. Especially the Far Seeker.”
Tanner raised an eyebrow.
“Look at her. Sails hardly patched, new paint on the hull, and the ropes on the rigging looks new. The other two are ready to be beached.”
He was right. Two of them looked unseaworthy, especially the Edna. But with gold one of the two might be refitted. The price of either of those ships was probably cut-rate. He tried to look beyond the obvious rot, worn equipment, and poor maintenance. He would not wish to sail on either.
Carrion said, “We’ll sit in the inn and listen to others talk. You and Devlin might stroll down by the pubs near those ships and listen, but never ask a question or show interest. We’ll spend a day or two and see what we come up with.”
Devlin said, “I know a few people. I can ask.”
“Which is like standing on a rooftop and shouting our business. No, we do it my way, but I appreciate your offer. If this doesn’t work out, we might try your friends.”
Tanner said, “Let me get this straight for Devlin and me so we understand your orders. You’re asking us to sit and appear to enjoy ourselves while serving wenches bring us food and ale?”
“Essentially. But that’s the gist.”
Looking at Devlin, Tanner said, “This is going to be hard for us.”
They were still laughing as they entered the dining room at the inn.
CHAPTER TEN
The three of them entered the inn and found a table. A young girl with a soft smile warm enough to melt butter asked what they wanted to drink. Carrion said, “Your best ale for me and two watered wines for my young friends.”
Tanner scowled, but remained quiet lest others hear him. But they’d discuss it later. He was in charge of the expedition and Carrion needed to be reminded of it. He fumed, then realized why the family council had put the two together. It was true that Carrion had been often absent, but there was no reflection on how serious he took his job.
The question became, why had they appointed Tanner in charge. The answer drew his attention as he figured it out. The appointment made him feel superior and in charge of an important mission. Carrion didn’t need that sort of coddling. Yet they made mutual decisions more often than not.
Would he ever have the wisdom they did? He doubted it. A glance around the room found four tables with men at them. All men. Most wore indications that they were seamen and high ranking ones. All were nearer Carrion’s age than his.
A black cauldron hung over a low fire on a swing-arm. A cupboard held fresh bread loaves the size of his fist. His stomach twisted. The girl returned with the ale and wine in stoneware goblets. Tanner said, “We have a room here. Can we go fill a bowl?”
“Then what would they need me for?” she laughed. “Three bowls of stew?”
“Yes. And bread. Do you have anything else?” Tanner said.
“Well, that’s all we have for your meal,” her eyes twinkled, “unless you’re asking about the berry pies we made.”
Tanner glanced at Devlin, who looked almost ill at the mention of the food. “Stew first, but save three slices of pie, please.”
“Lots of bread,” Carrion added.
She hurried off with a wiggle of her backside. Tanner tasted the wine reluctantly. If it was watered at all, it was very little. It held a sweetness on his tongue that he hadn’t ever found in the wines he’d had. Most were bitter and left a sour taste in his mouth. This one was totally different. He gulped more.
“Better take it easy on that,” Carrion warned him.
Three bowls of heavy, dark stew with chunks of meat, barley, turnips, carrots, and onions appeared on the table. The girl raced off to fill a platter with the small loaves of bread, butter, and soft fruit preserves to spread on them. Each bowl held a wood spoon, and it became clear Devlin didn’t know how to use one.
Tanner nudged him under the table and scooped stew into the spoon and softly blew on it to cool. Then he slowly placed the spoon in his mouth. Devlin mimicked his actions until the stew touched his tongue. His eyes came alive. His hand darted to the bowl and scoop more so fast it splashed onto the table. Tanner placed a restraining hand on his wrist and shook his head.
Devlin slowed down. Tanner tore a loaf of bread in half and buttered one side. He splashed some jam on it.
Devlin copied Tanner’s every move. Devlin then had to decide to eat more bread or stew.
Tanner said to him, “The food comes with the room. As much as we want. Eat slow and you can fit more inside you.”