Yet Sorin took Anowon by the scruff of the neck, and when the vampire turned, shoved him forward so he almost went sprawling on the ground. Keep your fangs in your mouth, Sorin said.
Shed blood here, and I ll exact a toll on your flesh tonight.
Nissa stepped back from Sorin. Any vampire she d ever encountered in Bala Ged would have attacked at such a provocation. But Anowon skulked ahead and did not even turn.
Sorin leaned in. Anowon has wanted to feed on you, but I have kept him at bay.
Nissa did not know what to say to that. Let him come, she said finally.
Indeed, Sorin said, and moved away into the darkness.
The town itself seemed composed of small shacks of thatch and sod as was typical in a Zendikar settlement. The rush of the ocean surf punctuated the darkness as Nissa walked. The wind off the ocean was humid and cold, and the acrid smoke from the animal dung fires stung Nissa s eyes. Ahead a large fire burned, and they walked toward that light like moths.
A group of larger shacks were grouped around the large fire. It blazed huge and sideways with each gust of wind. One shack was larger than the rest. In the wild flicker of the bonfire a sign made from a piece of driftwood swung in the wind above its door.
Anowon drew the hood of his cloak up over his head. Nissa watched the reflection of the flames dance on his eyes for a second, and then Sorin spoke.
What is that supposed to be? Sorin said. He reached up and took hold of the swinging sign, stilling it.
A kraken, Nissa said. But what is it doing to that cuttlefish?
Sorin, tilting his head sideways, looked at the sign. I do not uh he righted his head I see now.
The Way of Things, said a voice from within the door. Eyes were looking out from the peat hole. The door opened to reveal a short human, hunkered as though by deformity. Or perhaps it was the man s heavy armaments he was wearing a contraption strapped over his left arm. To Nissa it looked to be a mechanism that fed one of the many knives lined up along his arm into his hand. Humans loved such devices. And he was wearing armor plenty of armor another human weakness. Only his bald head and huge red beard were free from rusted plates fit together with only a small seam. Even though elves loathed armor, she could tell the suit he was wearing had once been quite expensive.
Welcome to Zulaport. You will be wanting to speak to Indorel at your earliest possible convenience. He runs this place.
And you are the welcoming committee? Sorin said.
In a manner of speaking, yes, the man said.
I keep this small inn here. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the large shack, an action that caused a multitude of squeaks and creaks to issue from his armor. I watch. For Indorel.
When the man turned, Nissa noticed a great sword covered with runic etchings at his side. His armor was accented with various hooks, and riveted with small loops for affixing ropes and rope systems. And his hands were covered with what looked like tattoos of fire. Flames over every bit of exposed skin on his hands.
Do you have coin? the man said.
Nobody said anything.
There are two places to sleep in Zulaport: Here or there. He pointed into the dark where the ocean crashed, and Nissa could just make out the outline of a small lighthouse on a hill.
And you are not getting in there without fins on your ankles. He held out his hand. I take coin or trade. He looked them over carefully. In your case I can see it will be coin.
That seemed to offend Anowon in some way. He straightened up and lifted his chin. Smara stumbled out of the darkness with her goblins behind her. Nissa waited for more, but none appeared. Were they really down to only three? she wondered. Had there not been nine when they had climbed out of the Makindi Trench?
So, do you have coin? the man said, in a tone more like a demand than a question.
Oh, we have everything you would want, Sorin said.
The man smiled, showing teeth as brown as his armor, and lines at the corners of his eyes. But his smile fell away when he saw Smara and her goblins. Superlative, but the goblins have to sleep in the stables due to the smell.
I m sure your little inn cannot smell that bad, Sorin said. The goblins can endure.
The man did not smile at Sorin s joke. I meant due to the goblins smell. It is too much. And the kor too, cannot enter for obvious reasons.
How do you feel about vampires, Sorin said, with his smug smile on his lips.
Vampires pay double, the man said. And if he slips his chain in the night we are not responsible for skewering him, be warned. And you still pay double.
The inside was worse than the outside. It smelled like seaweed and was as damp as a grave. Nissa could feel the shafts of wind through the cracks in the daubed timber-and-peat walls. But the man who said his name was Aleen showed them a room with slips filled with dry grass that lay on low wooden frames lined up against the wall. The beds were only a bit stained, but the grass was sweet smelling. Nissa fell asleep almost as soon as she layed her head down.
She was shaken violently awake. Get up, a voice shouted in the dark. Up.
A hand grabbed her by the hair and dragged her painfully to her feet. By the raw strength of the man she knew she could not attack directly, and her staff was unreachable next to her bed. Wincing in pain as he pulled her through the dark, Nissa planted one foot, squatted, and braced for the pain. The man stopped and began to pull, but Nissa shot her other foot out and planted it in the small of the back of his knee, forcing the knee to bend and the man to lose his balance and fall into her. He was a large specimen, she thought as she easily caught him, pivoted on her hip, and threw him head first into the wall.
She could see quite well once her eyes had become accustomed to the dark. She was on top of the man quickly. She had his belt off and around his neck in a split second, and she put her knee in the space between his shoulders and pulled until his throat made a certain gagging noise. Then she pulled more until he stopped making any noise at all. She walked back to their room and picked up her staff. The other beds were empty, but there was a small window cut into the wall.
Outside the wind was gusting as hard as it had been before. Nissa left the room and walked down to the water and the dock that the inhabitants of Zulaport had built in the crescent shaped Bay of Bayeen. Nissa had been on the ocean only once in her life, when she had left Bala Ged to sail to Ondu four months ago. In the bay. she saw tethered ships bobbing in the pitch of the surf. Some had sails and some did not. One had what must have been a sail bound in a tight bundle and lashed to the bottom of the beam that went perpendicular to the mast.
Nissa walked back to the inn. The bonfire had burned down, but a group of people stood around it. The body of the man Nissa had strangled lay on the sand before the fire. Smara and her three goblins were standing with men behind them holding their arms. Sorin was smiling in the firelight, looking like he was enjoying himself immensely.
Where is the other one? The being was tall, wearing black leather armor made in such a way as to be formed entirely of swirls. His hair hung in his face in stringy, black wads. Nissa realized it was a vampire, and a start of revulsion went through her.
She knew Anowon was there behind her before she felt him touch her shoulder.
That is Indorel. Anowon hissed. A credit to my race. He controls this shore-rat s nest. He makes his coin extorting the peril seekers, and sucking the weak among them dry.