A breeze whipped up and filled Talis’s nostrils with the smell of fish and other pungent smells he didn’t recognize. A sudden craving struck him, to eat the bounty of the sea. He glanced around, hoping to find an inn or a tavern. The docks were thronging with people in tattered clothes. Ship’s hands, beggars, thieves with shifty eyes, and dotted here and there, soldiers harassing well-dressed sea captains and traders. Ladies of obvious poor-reputation sauntered amongst the crowd, looking for victims with coin. Talis spotted an inn, “The Rusty Harpoon,” and decided it the best choice. Fewer drunks littered the steps outside.
He motioned the others towards the inn. Rikar grunted and guided his horse to the stables, Lenora trotting next to him.
Mara chuckled. “She’s been cuddling up close to him for days.”
“Young love.” Nikulo flashed his teeth. “Catch me if I start to swoon.”
“Our uncle will never approve,” Nuella said, and frowned. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”
“Love’s a mystery.” Nikulo stuck his finger in his mouth, as if pretending to barf.
“She’s not in love,” Mara said. “She’s just using him.”
Nikulo laughed at that. “Let me say, for the record, Rikar has no problem being used in this situation.”
Inside the inn was packed and noisy, smelling of smoke and ale and garlic. Ladies danced with drunken sailors in uniform, older officers sat drinking, eating, scheming. Talis followed Rikar and Lenora to a rickety table in the far corner under the stairs. Dust spilled down on them as people stormed up and down.
“No wonder the table was available.” Mara waved away the dust.
“It’s the only free table…stop complaining,” Rikar said, and motioned to a barmaid.
“Always liked a layer of dust with pork roast.” Nikulo brushed off the table with his hat.
“Do you have coin?” The barmaid frowned at them suspiciously.
Rikar flourished a silver coin. “Food and ale…and a room for the night.”
“A room?” Nuella said. “Aren’t we to have a room of our own?”
“Aren’t you bound for Uncle’s house?” Lenora spat, shifting her chair closer to Rikar’s.
“And you aren’t?”
Lenora shook her head, then glanced at Rikar. “I’ll not set foot in that drunk’s house.”
“But the plan was to live with Uncle and-”
“Plans change, sister. It’s hard for me to leave you, but I imagine you’ll manage somehow.”
The barmaid cast a disapproving glance at them, and swiped the coin from Rikar’s hand, storming off.
“You’ve scared her.” Rikar grinned. “You sisters shouldn’t fight. We’ll find your uncle tomorrow, and reunite you both with your family.”
“But you said!”
Rikar put up his hand as if to silence Lenora. “Eat first, your hunger is affecting your mood.”
“This seems a good place to ask…for ship’s passage to Lorello.” Nikulo flicked his eyes towards the seamen at the other tables.
“The crooked lot of them…the whole town included.”
“Be vague then,” Talis said. “Ask where they trade, home ports.“
Mara sighed. “That’s not how it’s done. Ask what trade garners the most coin. Pretend like you’re interested in signing up as a ship hand.”
The barmaid slapped down a large plate with a haunch of pork, roasted potatoes oozing in oil, and a whole cod. “Now there’s a feast.” Nikulo rubbed his hands together and sampled a potato.
“And ale?”
“Save your mouth for the food,” the barmaid said. “Ale’s coming soon enough. And you owe another silver for the room. That foreign coin of yours needs more weight.”
Nikulo handed her another coin, and gave Rikar a look as if trying to pacify him. “This is not Naru…prices are different.“
“More like robbery once they saw the foreign mint.”
“The inland mint…most people in this room are sailors…except us. Our coin gives us away.” Talis noticed the barmaid whispering to the innkeeper.
“We’ll see about changing coins in the morning.” Nikulo’s eyes brightened as the barmaid sauntered up, carrying a tray with six mugs of ale.
“Father complains from the grave,” Lenora said, and raised the mug to her lips.
“Your father walks the Grim March in the Underworld.” Rikar scowled at his hands. “Begging mercy from Zagros.”
Lenora paled, eyes widening. Instead of protesting, she bit her lip and drank half her ale.
“You cruel bastard…” Mara said. “Have you no feelings at all?”
Rikar shook his head slowly. “Not in many years…I’ve no need for them. You’ve enough emotions for the two of us. Wear them with pride.” He gulped down his ale in one go.
Talis wanted to kill him. He glared at Rikar, and gripped his sword.
“What do you want, oh you of royal blood? Do you want to murder me? You’re all just dripping with tender feelings. Plump morsels for the Master. Do you all realize how insignificant you are?”
Nikulo coughed. “Indeed we are…next to an ego such as yours… That’s right, I forgot to bow down and worship your lordship’s arse.”
“Go ahead, laugh until your fat face turns red. We’ll see how well your wit serves you on that island.”
“Promises and threats, my favorite bedtime stories. Is there something you know that we don’t?”
“Volumes, my old friend, volumes.”
“Who pray tell invited you on this quest? Am I missing something here? All this talk of Zagros, and mystery on the island. We arrive at Khael-a ship’s journey away-and my old friend shows his true colors?”
Lenora stared at Talis, as if begging him to say something. Talis cleared his throat. “Rikar here is in league with a dark sorcerer-”
“Say another word and I’ll slice your head off.” Rikar smiled madly. “I told you he will explain himself when he sees fit. Until then keep those words to yourself.”
“Are we to understand that this master of yours will explain everything once you lead us to the city of Darkov?” Mara scoffed.
“Who told you about Darkov?” Rikar’s face paled.
“You did, you stupid fool.”
19. PASSAGE TO LORELLO
Rikar woke early to take Lenora and Nuella to their uncle, ignoring Lenora’s final protests. Talis said goodbye to them, noticing the look of sadness in Lenora’s eyes. He didn’t buy it for a moment. She wanted to stay with them and continue on to Lorello, but everyone had agreed they had no interest in having her along.
Talis and Mara were to scour the docks in search of a ship bound for Lorello, and Nikulo mumbled something about finding rare ingredients. They split up. The air was cold and clammy from a dense mist and the ships in the harbor bobbed listlessly, their sails disappearing into the fog.
“Trade mostly in seal furs from the Isle of Tarasen,” an old salty sailor barked in response to Talis’s question.
They moved on, trying a broken-down tavern so close to the sea, Talis was sure it would soon fall in.
“Salt…salt from the salt flats of Douraman…we stay close to the coast. Yonder sea is vicious out in the open.” The barrel-chested hairy sailor puffed on a pipe, blowing rings of smoke thoughtfully. “Talk to Captain Calfour. He might know a thing or two about adventure on the high seas. Oldest and craziest dog amongst us.”
They tried the Captain and got a sour stare and plenty of grunts. He didn’t want their ale and wasn’t interested in speaking a word. As they were leaving the tavern, a man tapped Talis in the shoulder, and motioned them outside, down a dark alley.
“So you’re looking to join up on the Captain’s ship?” The man wore a white cap, and had two front missing teeth. “I’m his first mate, anything you want to say to the Captain has to go through me.”
“And where does your ship sail?” Mara said.
“Quite a lip on this one.” The first mate frowned at Mara. “We sail where there’s money in the wind.”
“Such as?” Talis said.
“Well if you must know, south to Tsenga, north to Blighter’s Bay, and if the need arises, east, far out to sea, to Seraka.”