“I suppose he might have changed his mind,” Colfet went on, “if only his second wife hadn’t died in the Plague. He blamed the dragonriders for not helping soon enough.”
“Oh!”
Colfet nodded. “He found a third wife, but she hounds him unmercifully. I think that’s why he was so happy to go on this voyage. Still, he’s no reason to think kindly of women or dragonmen.”
“Well…”
“You’ve nothing to worry about as long as Captain Tanner’s aboard,” Colfet assured her. “And maybe we can sort Baror out afterward.”
Lorana couldn’t think of what to say.
“Land ho!” The cry from above deck interrupted her thoughts.
“We’ll be in port before noon, I expect,” Colfet said.
Lorana nodded. “You should get the hold healer to look at that.”
Colfet started to say something, pursed his lips in thought, and nodded. “You’re right,” he said, adding with a grin, “but I doubt there’ll be any complaints!”
As Wind Rider neared the coastline, she passed a number of trawlers on their way back to the new sea hold from their day’s work. The trawlers all reacted in the same way: At first they turned toward Wind Rider, then they tried to match her course, and then they fell behind as the sloop’s sails sent her swiftly through the waves.
The ship’s crew grew more and more amused with each unsuccessful attempt at interception until finally even Colfet had a grin on his face and ruefully admitted, “I reckon she’s faster than anything my Master has ever seen.”
As the coastline drew nearer, however, the northern crew began to grumble about Captain Tanner’s navigation.
“I heard it said that there’s fickle winds out here,” Baror said as he cast a suspicious look at the captain. “If one’s not careful, a ship could get dashed on the coastline before she makes port.”
Tanner ignored Baror’s outburst and the others it inspired, contenting himself with a confirming glance at the binnacle. “We’ll make the sea hold in the next half an hour,” he said aloud for everyone to hear.
As the half hour crept to its end, with the sun just past its midday height, even Lorana was worried about their course.
“There’s a huge cliff up ahead,” the lookout shouted. “We’ll hit it in-I don’t believe it! There’s a great big hole in the middle of it!”
“That’s the port,” Captain Tanner said, suddenly calling out orders to reduce sail and adjusting his course just slightly as the “big hole” came into view from the deck. He spared a glance at Baror, telling him, “Prepare to launch the skiff.” To the crew forward he shouted, “Prepare to make anchor!”
Five minutes later Wind Rider was riding at anchor in the huge bay. To port they could see the great cavern that had been carved out of the coastline, while to starboard they could see miners and others laboring to carve a new Hold out of the cliff face set just behind a pebbly shore. Lorana, Tanner, Baror, and Colfet were all eyes as the skiff sailed jauntily to the shore.
“Nothing like this at Tillek,” Baror said when he found his voice.
“Nor Ista,” Captain Tanner agreed. “It’ll be safe from all but the worst winds-and that dock!”
A tall, thin man met them as they reached the shore. “I’m Trinar,” he said shortly, “Dockmaster here. That your ship?”
“It is,” Captain Tanner replied. “She’s the Wind Rider, commissioned for the Masterfisher at Tillek and on trials from Ista Sea Hold.”
Trinar was impressed. “I heard about it. She looks very pretty, very fast. Much room for fish?”
Colfet snickered. “She’s built for fast runs of valuable cargo, not fish.”
Trinar looked less impressed. “Well, if you want to stay the night, you’ll have to unstep her topmasts and bring her to dock here in the cavern.”
“That won’t be necessary-we’ll be leaving with the evening tide,” Tanner replied.
“Very well then, I’ll get someone to moor your skiff. See me when you’re ready to depart,” Trinar answered. “The mooring fee is two marks.”
“Two marks!” Colfet hissed. “Didn’t you hear the man say this is the Masterfisher’s ship?”
“It’s still two marks,” Trinar said. He waved his hand and two burly seaman approached. “Jalor will take your skiff out, and Marset will show you up to the hold.”
Tanner held up his hand in an arresting gesture. “How much to put an anchor watch on Wind Rider?”
Trinar pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Reckon we could do that for four marks.”
“Very well,” Tanner said, passing over the marks. He turned to the skiff’s crew. “This is the Dockmaster, Trinar. He’s going to supply an anchor watch for the ship. You go back, work it out with the others, and you can all come ashore until the evening tide-how’s that sound?”
Baror tapped Tanner’s shoulder. In a hoarse whisper, the grumpy seaman asked, “What’s to stop them from taking her?”
“She’s one of a kind, where would they take her?” Tanner replied. “Besides, she’s not your Master’s ship yet. Until we’ve completed the trials, if anything happens to her it’ll be on my head.”
Baror grunted acknowledgment, still looking doubtful. Tanner turned to Marset. “We’d be glad to see your new hold.”
“I’d like to see a nice glass of cold wine,” Baror muttered.
Lorana spoke up for the first time. “And Colfet needs to see your hold healer.”
Tanner looked chagrined. “To the healer first, then we’ll see.”
Healer Bordan was a short, elderly man with thick, bushy eyebrows and long white hair worn in a queue. He sniffed the cast carefully for any signs of infection, checked the bindings, spoke curtly to Lorana about the break, and finally pronounced himself well satisfied with the current cast.
“You were wise not to try a solid cast,” Bordan told her.
“We didn’t have the supplies to make it,” Lorana replied. “But wouldn’t it have been better?”
Bordan nodded. “Yes, a solid cast keeps the bones in place better, but on the sea where everything gets wet, you’d soon have nothing more than a mass of soggy wrappings. No, a well-wrapped set of splints will do fine.” He gave Lorana a searching look. “Ever thought of turning healer?”
Lorana was stunned at the implied compliment and confused as she tried to construct an answer. Tanner saved her. “I’d say that Lorana has her work cut out with her drawings.”
Bordan’s bushy eyebrows rose to greater heights. “You draw, as well? Have you ever considered drawing for the Healer Hall? Have you a good eye?”
“Her drawings look so real, I’m afraid of falling into them,” Colfet told him.
“Well, if you ever think so, I’ll be happy to write the Masterhealer,” Bordan said.
Lorana’s eyes widened in delight. “Thank you! Thank you very much, Healer Bordan.”
“Hmmph,” Colfet grumbled. “Didn’t I tell you there was no need to see the healer? But I’m parched, from all that poking about-begging your pardon, Healer Bordan.”
Bordan snorted, smiling. “We’ve got some good Benden wine down in the cellars that would probably do wonders for your pains.” He raised a cautioning finger. “But, mind you, drink enough water with it or your bones will feel it when the wine dries them out!”
The entire hold smelled of stone dust, a dry acrid smell. The Main Hall was large enough, but there were few in it, as even here the sound of miners carving out stone could be heard ringing through the air.
“You’re off that foreign ship, is it?” a sturdily built woman asked as they entered. “Here for some wine and a bit of food, I’d imagine?”
“If we could, please,” Lorana asked.