He drank cider and watched the sailors and merchants moving around on the quay. Boats loaded with cargo were rowed to the docks and unloaded. Carts full of merchandise rumbled over the cobblestone streets. Zollin couldn’t help but think of Todrek as he sipped his drink. It was cool and tart, reminding Zollin of his old friend and how they had spent the day together at the harvest festival in Tranaugh Shire. It had been a good day, at least until Brianna’s father had announced Todrek’s betrothal. Zollin had not been jealous of his friend, only envious of Todrek’s good fortune. He had been planning to leave their village, and Todrek’s betrothal had solidified that decision. He had only stayed into the winter because his best friend had asked Zollin to stand with him at the marriage ceremony.
So much had changed that day, Zollin thought. Looking back, it was as if that day had set everything that came since into motion. Still, sitting comfortably, watching the hustle and bustle of the harbor in the last light of the day and drinking his cider, Zollin couldn’t help but think of how much Todrek would have enjoyed being there with him. The smell of the ocean was sharp, mingling with the smell of roasting meat and freshly baked bread. It was a moment of peace and happiness, a rarity in Zollin’s world.
It was late before Zollin caught sight of Eustice. He hurried over and gestured for Zollin to follow him. They passed a sullen looking inn that overlooked the harbor and Eustice gestured at it. Zollin guessed that Eustice had seen Mansel go inside.
“We need to let him know what we’ve done,” Zollin said. “But I don’t want us to be seen with him. Perhaps I could send him a message.”
Eustice nodded as Zollin looked around. A young boy was sweeping outside the inn. Zollin approached him.
“Can you carry a message for me?” he asked, holding up a silver mark.
“Aye,” the boy said, mesmerized by the silver.
“There’s a man in your inn here, a big man with a sword. He’s wearing a leather vest and goes by the name of Mansel. You think you could find him and give him a message?”
“Aye, that I could, sir.”
“Good,” Zollin said. “Tell him, ‘The Northern Star.’”
“And…” the boy said.
“That’s it, just ‘The Northern Star.’ And let him know it sails with the tide tomorrow. What time will that be?”
“Just before noon day,” the boy said.
“Good, that’ll give him time enough to square things. Repeat the message.”
“The Northern Star sails with the morning tide.”
“Good enough,” Zollin said, flipping the boy the coin. “Wait a few minutes, then go find him. Alright?”
“Aye, sir,” the boy said.
“Let’s go,” Zollin said to Eustice.
They turned and went in search of a boat that would take them to their ship. A few coppers paid their fare, and the boat ride was smooth. Unlike the open waters of the coast, the harbor was calm and the skiff they rode in glided over the water. They had to climb a rope ladder up the side of the ship and were met by one of the sailors. The Northern Star wasn’t as big as the ship that had been destroyed by the Kraken, but it had a long corridor of rooms just under the main deck. Zollin and Eustice shared a room with two bunks, a sturdy table with canvas chairs, and even a small porthole with shutters. Their belongings and food had already been neatly stored away in the sea chests at the foot of each bunk.
“Nothing left now but to wait, I guess,” Zollin said.
Eustice nodded and began preparing food for their evening meal. Zollin was tempted to go up on deck and explore a little, perhaps even let his magic down into the sea again. But he didn’t want to take the chance that he had actually attracted the kraken. And he knew he would be worried until Mansel was safely on board the ship with them.
They ate a light meal of bread and fruit with a little cheese and wine. They were tired from their travels so sleep came easily, and at dawn they awoke to the cries of the sailors. An officer was seeing that everything was ready for the ship to set sail with the tide. He barked and shouted, and the sailors answered in kind. Zollin was still sleepy, but it was impossible to rest with all the noise around him.
“I think I’ll take a walk on the deck,” Zollin said.
He stepped out of their room and was met by a woman in a long cloak. She glared at him for a moment, until he stepped to the side, then swept past him and entered a much larger set of rooms at the end of the corridor.
“That’s Lady Roleena,” said a sailor who had just come down the stairs from the deck. He was carrying a large chest on his shoulder. “I’d steer clear, if you take my meaning. She’s got a razor sharp tongue, she has.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Zollin said.
He turned and headed back up to the main deck. There were people everywhere-mostly sailors, but some were passengers overseeing their belongs as they were hoisted up from the ships below. Zollin went out to an empty spot along the ship rail and looked out over the water. He wasn’t surprised that the ship was filling up. It had been the only ship still taking passengers when he had searched, but he was afraid that Mansel might be too late to get on board.
He was hungry and tired, but too nervous to eat. He watched the ships and the myriad of boats moving between them. Some of the boats were large, with over a dozen men working the oars, while others were simple wooden platforms, hardly wider than their passengers, being expertly rowed around the harbor by just a single sailor.
Zollin had almost lost hope for his friend when he saw the big warrior in a crowded boat of surly looking men. Zollin thought the men looked hungover and sick. Mansel would have blended in well if not for his size. When the boat came gliding up beside the Northern Star, an officer started barking orders.
“Henson, get those men aboard. I want them berthed down between decks. Have their gear stowed and each man assigned to his duty, then report back to me.”
“Aye, sir,” the sailor on the boat shouted back, knuckling his forehead. “Alright, you dandies, you heard the man. Get your gear and get aboard. This isn’t a pleasure cruise.”
Zollin watched in surprise as Mansel jumped up and grabbed a rope that hung from the side of the ship. He climbed hand over hand to get on board. He had his belongs in a simple sack that was the size of his sword. The sack was slung across his back on a leather strap, and when he got on board he hurried with the other sailors down into the bowels of the ship.
The deck was busy and most of the passengers had retired down to their cabins, but Zollin waited by the ship rail. He wanted to see what his friend had gotten himself into. It was a brilliant plan. If he couldn’t book passage on the ship, he had gotten hired as one of the many hands that worked the ship. Mansel had never been the kind of person to shy away from hard labor, but Zollin had to wonder if his friend knew what he was in for.
It only took a few minutes before Mansel came jogging back up on deck. The sailor who had rowed them across the harbor pointed to a short, leathery skinned sailor not far from where Zollin was watching. Mansel hurried over to the man and presented himself.
“Carpenter’s helper Mansel, reporting for duty,” the warrior said.
The sailor looked him up and down for a minute, his eyes mere slits in the bright morning sunlight.
“So you think you want to be a sailor, eh? I think maybe you wooed the wrong woman and now you’re looking for a quick way out of town.”
Mansel shifted on his feet but didn’t say anything.
“Well, you’re certainly a big lad. Have you got any skills?”
“I was apprenticed to a carpenter for three years,” Mansel said, darting a glance at Zollin. “I’ve never worked on a ship, but I learn fast and work hard.”