“No matter,” assured Freston. “But you shouldn’t travel the city with so much gold. There isn’t a person in Fendale who doesn’t know about your victory, or your generosity. You have become a target of bandits and thieves already, I’m sure. But they will not be bold enough to try to rob you here in the city. They will wait until you set sail.”
“I could just leave the money here in Fendale.”
“That you could, but they will assume you have the gold on you anyway. Your best bet is to trade the gold for jewels, which are much easier to carry and less difficult to conceal. As for setting sail, I would ask for a naval escort if I were you.”
Whill pondered the situation. “Maybe you’re right. Would Lord Rogus grant such an escort?”
“He could spare at least one ship, I’m sure. Don’t worry yourself about it. Abram has been through worse than a pirate raid. I’m sure he is prepared for such things.” Freston smiled reassuringly. “Now let’s see how my boys are coming with the frame.”
Whill followed Freston the short distance to the dock entrance. There were many ways to get to the docks; at least twenty passages led from different parts of the city down into the great cave. They headed down a wide spiral stairway lit with large torches mounted every few feet. As they descended, Whill’s excitement increased. He had of course read about the great cave harbor of Fendale, and had even seen elaborate drawings of it in many books. Now he was having his own ship built there. They reached the end of the stairway, and Whill beheld the great harbor.
The cave was bigger than Whill had envisioned-at least a half a mile across, as far as he could tell. Its ceiling was more than one hundred feet high in some places. Light from the sun, along with the ocean waters, came in through four great gates carved out of the cave wall and was reflected off of the cave’s shiny surface. From the back wall to the gates he guessed was a distance of about one thousand feet. It was hard to believe that above them sat the great city of Fendale. Within the immense cave there were over one hundred ships docked. The harbor was abuzz with movement. There were fisherman unloading their latest catch from giant nets, and merchants loading their cargo for distant cities of Agora. Others unloaded cargo that had been imported to the city: men carried large bags of grain and wheat, while others hauled large barrels from the decks.
Whill was in awe. He followed Freston to where his ship was being built, and noticed a large section of the dock that was for use only by the royal navy. Great warships the likes of which he had only seen in books loomed overhead. They were massive, nearly three hundred feet long. From some came soldiers in full armor down large ramps, while on others soldiers were boarding, off to spend a few months patrolling the great ocean. It was a very emotional sight. The returning soldiers were greeted by their loved ones with open arms and many hugs and kisses, while the departing soldiers endured the tears of theirs. Women and children waved and blew kisses as one of the ships was launched with a great many large oars protruding from its lower sides. Freston stopped and bowed his head as the women began the farewell song. Taking his lead, Whill did the same as the voices of the women rose to the ceiling and echoed throughout the vast harbor.
Goodbye, my love, till your ship returns
To the city of light, where the elven torch burns.
May the ocean be kind, may the wind catch your sail
May the stars guide true, and may your vessel not fail.
As the light from the sun rises each day
In my heart you will dwell, and forever stay.
Though foe you may find, and fell they may be,
You will vanquish each threat, you are kings of the sea.
If darkness doth find you, and find you it may,
Think of the clear light that shines night and day.
I’ll wait for you here till your ship returns
To the city of light, where the elven torch burns.
The song ended as the ship left the cave and entered the open sea. Freston raised his head with watery eyes. “My father was a soldier for the royal navy. I was only ten when my mother and I sang that very song. I was forty when my wife sang it for my eldest son.” He gave the women a nod and smile as they walked by, some with children, some without. “Their ships never returned. My father’s nor my son’s.”
He started for the building site. Whill followed, not quite knowing what to say. His mood had been greatly dampened by the sight of the leaving ship, and by the song. “This city has lost many men to the sea, be they fisherman or soldiers,” Freston said. “Dragons, pirates, storms, and the Draggard wars are a constant threat to all who venture over the great waters. Every month one or more ships do not return, and lately that number has doubled. There is a need for more and more soldiers to hold the eastern borders of Agora. Ships that used to be gone for only weeks are now on duty for months. There is hardly anyone in this great city who has not known loss to the ocean. Yet we love it still. And we will remain people of the blue waters until the day they overtake this land.”
Whill looked at the old man as he spoke and saw him as he had not before. Within his weathered face and pale blue eyes he now saw a quiet sadness.
“I never knew my father,” Whill said. “All I know of him is that he died when I was just an infant. I sympathize with your great loss and hope that none other befalls you.”
“Tragedy is a storm we all must weather, my friend. To let it break you is the worst tragedy of all. Instead we stand tall in defiance and wear a smile when all reason for smiling has left us. Let this great vessel of yours be a symbol of your defiance of your own tragedy, and let us take joy in it.”
Whill wondered if Abram had gotten his optimism from living in Fendale. He was never discouraged by anything, a virtue he had instilled in Whill at an early age and for which Whill was now thankful. Without such a way of thinking, he could have easily become a very different man.
“Ah, here we are.” They had finally reached the building platform. Three men were busy at work on the frame of what would become Whill’s ship. Freston put two fingers to his mouth and gave a loud whistle. The men stopped what they were doing and greeted their father.
“Come here, boys. I’d like you to meet a friend.” The men put down their tools and joined Whill and Freston on the walking platform. Whill extended a hand and shook with each of them in turn.
“Aye, Kellis is the name. Nice to meet you,” said the first and biggest of the three men. He wore brown pants and boots with a white shirt cut off at the sleeves. His long brown hair was pulled into a tail to keep it away as he worked. A thick brown beard covered his jolly face, and his father’s eyes, as bright as his smile, peered at Whill above a proud nose.
“Name’s Trellen,” said the second man. He was dressed like his brother with the exception of a black shirt. His hair was brown like Kellis’s, but it hung in curly clumps about his face. His smile was like his father’s also, though his face was clean-shaven.
“Nice to meet you, Whill. I’m Leukas,” said the third and youngest man. He wore white pants that had been soiled with sawdust; his shirt was blue and long at the sleeves. His hair was long like his brothers’, but blond rather than brown, and it was pulled back like Kellis’s. He wore a goatee and long thin sideburns. He was the best-looking of the three, with a well-defined jaw and sharp features.
“So, boys, how goes it?” Freston asked, eyeing the frame of the ship.
“It’s going as well as it can. We’re actually ahead of schedule,” said Trellen with a proud smile.