Isaiah had told them that the man who owned the ship they would be sailing upon would find them. It made little sense to Ethan. But he trusted the High Priest and did not ask any more questions about it. Ethan even wondered if perhaps Isaiah had given Gideon more information about their contact, but with Gideon still traveling from Millertown, it mattered little right now.
Ethan understood well that The Order maintained a carefully crafted sense of mystery, with secret locations, hidden vaults, and death defying entryways and exits. The fact was, Isaiah had only known Ethan for five months. He did not expect to be told all there was to know about The Order. It was enough to know Gideon was the best The Order could offer and happened to be his mentor and partner in this expedition. Better to search for Gideon, if I’m to search for anyone at all, he thought.
Ethan had been careful to wear his commoner’s clothing on this journey, as had his fellow priests. This was no time for bold assertions of their priesthood. They had run across a number of patrols along their journey to Hopple from Millertown, but had managed to avoid them. Demons had been seen scouting for the patrols and spying out nearby villages. Ethan was glad for his special sight, more than ever.
Evidently Mordred was searching hard for him, even after all of these months since the battle with Jericho in the throne room. But by the Lord’s providence they and their precious cargo had remained undiscovered. Ethan only hoped Gideon’s foolhardy trip back to Millertown had not compromised the mission. And even more, he hoped to see his friend safe again.
Ethan left the chest of scrolls with Joseph and Micah inside the large cave they had found, while he walked the remaining several miles into the village proper. Ethan heard wolf calls on several occasions and once during the trip he had even realm shifted, hoping to avoid detection by a hungry pack on the hunt.
When Ethan finally arrived in the village of Hopple, he was surprised by the size of the docks, the ten or so large ships docked there, and by the miniscule amount of buildings actually built on the shore. For all intensive purposes, the dock system was three times the size of the village and looked like a small town afloat in the calm waters of the harbor.
The onshore dwellings were simple wooden structures-single family homes, mostly, with cobblestone lanes running between them. There were a number of larger buildings supported by stilts, anchored to the seafloor in the harbor. Ethan supposed they might be taverns and other such places where the wages of weary sailors could be spent on frivolity and wickedness.
These were excellent places to find the sort of people who undertake mysterious voyages. Ethan trod down the path, winding through lanes of lantern-lit windows-families settling in for a good night’s rest. He proceeded from shore to the docks and the revelry of fools eager to part with their money in the establishments beyond.
When Ethan reached the sea, it surprised him to find the cobblestone lanes simply continued unabated as bridges, extending into the harbor. Normally the docks would have been constructed of wood, but the people of Hopple had built a highly organized system of stone walkways likely standing a good ten feet above the water, even at high tide.
Ethan heard music filtering out of several larger buildings, so he decided to head for the closest. A few people milled about on the stone pathways. Then Ethan noticed a man in uniform. Hoping not to arouse suspicion, he did not pause or quicken his pace.
The man happened to be one of Mordred’s soldiers. He was not as large as the Wraith Riders and may have been one of the men conscripted from Nodian villages. Ethan continued on, past the man, toward the tavern.
When Ethan reached the door, he passed two more soldiers. Fortunately he had worn commoner’s clothing. The sign hanging over the door read, The Salty Dog. Lively musicians played at the far end of the building and a great number of people danced and drank intoxicating beverages. Soldiers danced as well, slinging ale from their mugs in every direction in the process. Armed men and strong drink, never a good combination, he thought.
The Salty Dog was not an elegant place. In fact, it lacked refinement in every way imaginable. There was little more to the structure than a bandstand for the musicians and tables for gamblers and drinkers. A bar along one wall served intoxicating beverages of every sort. This is where Isaiah has arranged for us to find a ship to take the Word to Macedon?
A cloud of smoke hung in the room fed by a plentitude of pipes. Ethan sputtered and coughed, hoping he wasn’t too conspicuous. Nevertheless, he was acutely aware of the fact that his young age was apparent. Anyone remotely alert wonder why he was here.
Ethan reconsidered his decision to enter the Salty Dog. He turned and noticed the two soldiers approaching him from across the room. He walked more quickly, heading back toward the door when a foot moved out into his path, tripping him. Ethan fell to the floor, landing on his palms as though he would begin a set of pushups. He bounced back to his feet quickly, only to find a ragtag sailor shoving his chair away. “You stepped on my foot you little puke!” the man bellowed.
The sailor was unshaven, lanky in appearance, with a mop of black hair sprouting like roots out from under a dirty seaman’s cap. He smelled absolutely awful, reeking of body odor and strong drink. Ethan was about to apologize to the man, when he noticed the soldiers again. While he wasn’t paying attention, the sailor hauled off and smashed him across the cheek.
The blow shocked him back to the confrontation with the drunken sailor. The man prepared another telegraphed punch, which Ethan blocked with ease. “Please, I don’t want to hurt you, sir.”
He felt it wasn’t even a fair fight, until the drunkard managed to fade with his next punch and get by Ethan’s defense. That punch doubled Ethan over. The man came at him again as the patrons around them began cheering for anybody who could do the most damage. Ethan blocked again and threw his first punch at the man, but the sailor anticipated it with ease and countered. A lightning fast succession of hand-to-hand, feet-to-hand, and feet-to-feet maneuvers quickly followed until the soldiers broke them up. They grabbed Ethan and slugged the sailor in the gut with a club. The soldiers drew their swords. Ethan wasn’t sure what to do.
“I told you never to come down to this stinking tavern,” a man yelled from the crowd. He ran up to Ethan and snatched him by the scruff of the neck away from the soldiers. “Thank you kindly, officers,” the man said, regarding them before he chastised the boy again. “Your mother has been worried something fierce, and here I find you drinking with the devil in this place. You’re going to get the beating of your life, that’s what!”
Ethan stood flabbergasted until he noticed the man wink at him while his back was to the soldiers. Ethan recognized the man as Levi Bonifast. He wore a crude disguise with a full beard and different clothes, but it was him. Ethan almost hugged him, but Levi tore his leather belt out of his trouser loops and began thrashing it at him. “Boy, you had better run your hide home, if ya know what’s good for ya!”
The soldiers stood there dumbfounded. “Hey, I want to see-” began one of them.
“Aye, officer, your right, I’ll skin him alive, if I give him a lick. He’ll get the beating he deserves!” Levi said. Then he chased Ethan out of The Salty Dog at the end of his belt.
Levi left the soldiers with the drunken sailor still hanging limp between their arms. “What about this one?” they asked of their commander.