A Voyager Without Magic

by Guy Antibes

  Captain Darter pointed to the still-unrepaired hole on her main deck. She had the sailors remove the pollen tarp that covered it before the ships intercepted them. “I was attacked by a pirate ship and need to do a minimal resupply before heading to Bliksa.”

  The official frowned. “Trakata is currently not on friendly terms with Ristaria.”

  “I am not a military ship. All I have are civilian passengers and damaged cargo” The captain glanced at the hole in her deck. “Two weeks worth of food and fresh water for my passengers and crew. Just the basics.”

  “The price will be high,” the official said.

  Darter nodded her head. “I know that,” she said. “I will pay it.”

  “Then the pilot will operate the wheel. That is mandatory, and remember, everything has a high price in Pundia.”

  ~

  The city looked as if it were under attack by pirates. Trails of smoke rose in various places. It looked like a city under siege, but not from the water. The pilot pointed to a buoy. “That is where you will anchor. The port authorities want one hundred gold pieces for your berth and for your supplies.”

  “One hundred?” Captain Darter said. “That is robbery. I don’t have that aboard.”

  The man puffed up his little chest. “Then you will have to provide hostages. They stay ashore and will get the funds.”

  Sam looked at the pilot, who looked a little nervous making the demands, but the officer who had stopped them climbed aboard. Most of the passengers surrounded the officer.

  “Did Harmin, the pilot, give you our terms?”

  “One hundred gold pieces for at most one gold piece’s worth for all the food I need at a market. I need to draw on a letter of credit to get that kind of money,” she said.

  “We will take a prominent passenger on board for security and allow you two passengers and three crew on the shore to arrange for payment to the port authority. A deposit of five gold pieces will get you a day’s worth of food.” The officer smiled.

  Sam didn’t like the look of the officer. He was a pirate no less than the men they had sent to the bottom of the sea ten days previously.

  “Why is the city smoking?”

  The officer looked back at Pundia. “A few civic disturbances. Nothing you need to worry about,” the man said. “Pay me your deposit and gather your hostages, and we will get your people to shore and return with supplies, if you would gather a modest list.”

  “I’ll go,” Sam said. “If your letters of credit aren’t acceptable, perhaps mine are.”

  “A hundred gold pieces?” Captain Darter asked.

  “Perhaps,” Sam said. His papers claimed unlimited funds available, but he didn’t believe that, nor did Dickey Nail or Lady Grate.

  “Then go. You are my purser, after all. Take Desmon Sandal with you. He can survive through anything.”

  “I’d like to go, too,” Glory said.

  “She will need a companion,” Tera added.

  “Professor Ziggor Smallbug is our most prominent passenger,” Captain Darter said.

  “Your crew?”

  “Sam Smith, our purser, Mito Nakara, our assistant purser, and Desmon Sandal, an expendable sailor.”

  The officer nodded. “In the boat in five minutes,” he commanded.

  Sam ran to his room to retrieve his gold tips, a letter of credit, and his sword. He wanted to take Emmy, but perhaps it was too dangerous for the dog.

  When he arrived back on deck, Banna and Emmy had replaced Tera as part of the group. He didn’t know how that had happened, but they boarded a skiff and headed towards the Trakatan shore.

  Sam didn’t talk to anyone. At least Desmon and Nakara were armed. They would have to protect Banna, Smallbug, and Glory. He didn’t understand why Glory and Banna volunteered to go.

  They were escorted to the port guardhouse.

  “One hostage and five individuals arriving to scare up the ransom,” the officer said.

  At least he called it what the exorbitant sum really was, a ransom to get food and then leave Pundia far behind, Sam thought, as he handed over the list of provisions Captain Darter and he had made.

  “I will release the hostage for a gold piece,” another officer said, even more ornately dressed than the one who boarded their ship. “The food will be sent over within the hour.”

  Smallbug produced one from his purse after emptying the contents in his palm. It was the only gold in his purse.

  “Vaarekian, eh?” The officer examined it closely, and then he turned to a guard sitting at a desk. “Temporary papers for them all. They will be required to check into an inn before they can begin to seek the money.”

  They soon walked through the city streets, followed by two port guards. Sam sought Banna. “How did you convince the officer to let Emmy ashore?” Sam said quietly.

  “Another gold. It speaks loudly on Pundian palms.”

  “And Tera?”

  Banna looked at the back of the Lashakan walking with Desmon ahead of them. Glory and Smallbug were behind. “Nakara’s doing. It was a heated conversation only for a moment, once I volunteered to protect Glory. I’m not so sure it wasn’t protecting you that Tera was more concerned about.”

  Sam shivered at the thought. He didn’t have the time to think about girls. Glory was a girl, but one he wasn’t interested in. “I have two letters of credit, hopefully between them, I can get the ransom.”

  “I’d rather be here than on the ship,” Banna said. “At least Emmy will get to eat meat again.”

  Sam could tell the dog had lost more weight than they had during the last few days on the ship. They walked up towards the city. A few signs of fighting soon became evident around them.

  They were shown to a decently appointed inn that extracted another gold coin from Sam’s purse. He only had two left with him. The terms were for a week’s stay with no refund should they leave earlier. At least it included meals, and they didn’t hesitate to take advantage of that.

  Emmy was fed outside in the small stable. Sam was glad to see the dog eating again before he joined the others. The inn didn’t seem to have any trouble serving fresh food.

  “Everything is dear,” the server said, “but it is available.” She smiled. You are from the mystery ship in the harbor?”

  “Not much of a mystery,” Desmon said. “We were attacked by pirates, who destroyed our food supplies. We’ve been on rations for the last week.”

  She smiled. “Then eat up. We serve good-sized portions here.”

  Eat up they did. Sam had never tasted the cuisine of Trakata, but although there were some tastes he might otherwise not care for, he filled his stomach.

  He caught the server as she began to clear dishes from their table. “I’d like a word with the innkeeper.”

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, looking alarmed.

  “No. I just want a little information. I am the mystery ship’s purser, and I’d like to get some idea of what is in the city.”

  “Aren’t you a little young?”

  “I was the assistant until our purser was killed in the pirate raid.”

  “Oh,” her face fell, “I am sorry.”

  “And so are we all,” Sam echoed her sympathetic smile.

  The innkeeper seemed to be a decent enough person, despite the price of their lodgings. He ushered Sam and Nakara into his office.

  “The server said you were from the ship that just arrived?”

  Sam briefly told him about their fight with the pirates and their resulting plight. “I’d like to know what is going on in Pundia. It appears you are in the midst of a civil war for control of the city.”

  “It is exactly that. The College of Cathartics has declared the city rulers of both the upper and lower cities to be agents of evil forces and has decided to wage war within the city. The situation has only gotten worse in the past few weeks.”

  “What is the College of Cathartics?” Nakara asked.

  “Ah. The Cathartics are long gone. They
were a religious group that claimed that pollen worship was evil and worshipped by ingesting mushrooms and other natural things that created hallucinations. This was hundreds of years ago, but the movement began a college to educate adherents. The education stayed, but the hallucinations didn’t. Rumor has it that Viktar Kreb supports them. He seems to be behind everything these days.”

  “He isn’t responsible for the port authorities, is he?” Sam asked.

  The innkeeper shook his head. “Not at all. The scoundrels that run the port have been extorting money from visiting ships for a long, long time. The actual fighting is recent, though. It has made me raise my prices, sad to say. I don’t know if or when I’ll be burned out.”

  “The fighting hasn’t seemed to have been that bad.”

  “Not down here, not yet. But you’ve seen the smoke plumes in the upper city. I’m afraid the ages-old bindings of civility have frayed into extinction. Pundia is approaching anarchy.”

  “What about the banks? We need to withdraw quite a bit of gold to get our ship released.”

  “Most are open, at least they were yesterday, but I wouldn’t wait.”

  “Do you have a map of the city?”

  The innkeeper nodded. “There are a few at the front counter. Ask for one. They are complementary,” he said, smiling sheepishly.

  They thanked the innkeeper for the information and retrieved two maps. The college was prominently marked on the map, and so was the commercial district. They each freshened up in their rooms and met in the lobby.

  “I have colleagues at the College of Cathartics. I think I will take the opportunity to visit them,” Smallbug said.

  “We need to get to the banks before they close,” Sam said. “The letters of credit may take some time.”

  The woman behind the front counter leaned over. “Sir. Young man, I didn’t mean to listen in, but the banks are already closed for the day.”

  Professor Smallbug gave them all a self-satisfied smile. “The College?”

  Sam had no other ideas, so he could only say, “Lead on.”

  ~

  After a long hike up a steep hill, they arrived at the upper city that sat above the port below. The buildings in the upper city were more established than below. The lower port area looked like most other ports, except for the pastels and domes of Port Hassin, but the upper city had a unique feel to Sam.

  The buildings were almost overly ornate with many curlicues cut into the stone. The windows seemed to be leaded with long thin panes rather than the diamond shape more common in Baskin. Doorways weren’t rectangles, but the tops were semicircles with a pointed peak at the middle. Sam could tell he was in a foreign country, even without all the signs written in Vaarekian, which was spoken in the lower city and evidently in the upper, as well.

  To his right, a tall clock tower seemed to dominate the skyline.

  “That is the college, I understand,” Ziggor Smallbug said, heading in that direction.

  “Wait for us, Ziggy,” Desmon said, with a smirk on his face.

  Desmon’s comment brought a smile to Banna’s face. “Ziggy,” she said. “An apt name, the way I hear it.”

  “It isn’t the first time I’ve heard him called that, behind his back, of course,” Glory said playfully.

  “Ziggy it is then,” Sam said as he headed towards the receding figure of Ziggy Smallbug.

  The College of Cathartics was at least as large as Baskin University, thought Sam. The clock tower looked even taller as they approached the school. The buildings were black with centuries of soot. It appeared the students wore black robes, something Baskin University students didn’t, just the faculty.

  These had long dripping sleeves and scalloped bottoms. Everyone seemed to be wearing caps in the university that were shaped to their skulls. They looked funny on women walking around with long hair flowing out of them.

  “Is Tolloy University like this?” Sam asked Banna.

  She shrugged. “Tolloyan students wear hats with short brims, and the bottom of the robes are plain. I must say, I don’t like the scallops.”

  Glory smiled. “I like the bottoms, but I don’t like the tops at all.” She made a face.

  It only confirmed to Sam that everyone had their own opinion. They walked underneath the gate. Ziggy was arguing with an older man dressed just like the students but in a dark-red robe.

  “Banna Plunk, can you help me here?” Ziggy said. Knowing the pair didn’t like each other, Sam was surprised by his request.

  “What is the matter?” she said walking up to the pair.

  “This man claims to be a professor at the University of Tolloy, yet he failed to bring a token.”

  “I have one,” Banna said, pulling out a little plaque. He didn’t know she had one. She held it out for the guardian to examine.

  “Oh, you are a professor, too?”

  Banna nodded and smiled. “We are in the same group.”

  “Then go right ahead, except the dog stays outside.”

  “Where did you get that token?” Ziggy said, quite astonished.

  “Do you want one?” She held out her hand, and a token appeared. “It is made out of pollen, you know.”

  Banna staggered a bit. Sometimes her pollen magic exhausted her, and sometimes it didn’t. But Ziggy snatched the token from her hands and looked at it closely. “Not perfect,” he said.

  “But perfect enough, right?” Banna said, with a hint of derision. “You may continue to lead.” Both Banna and Sam ordered Emmy to stay.

  Ziggy tugged on the lapels of his coat and marched to the largest building on the campus, it seemed. They followed.

  “I am Ziggor Smallbug,” he said to the woman at a counter.

  “So?” she said. “Should I be impressed that you are Ziggor Smallbug?”

  Sam had to smile at the woman’s caustic reply.

  “I am Professor Ziggor Smallbug from Tolloy University. I have come to see my old friend Deeter Temmis.”

  “You mean Chancellor Temmis?” the woman said, her attitude had changed.

  “The same,” Ziggor said, puffing himself up.

  “I will send a runner,” the woman said. “Professor Smallbug.” She wrote something down. It had Ziggy’s name on it and the question, ‘Do you know this man?’ written in the Vaarekian cursive that Sam had recently learned.

  She motioned to three students sitting on chairs on the opposite side of the large entry hall. One of them jumped up and ran up the stairs. Hopefully, the chancellor’s office was in the building.

  They waited for a bit, but finally three older gentlemen descended.

  “Ziggy!” the one in the middle said, holding out his arms. “It has been years.”

  “Twelve,” Smallbug said.

  Banna smiled and looked at Desmon and Nakara before turning to Sam. “See? He definitely is a Ziggy.”

  Glory repressed a smile as she looked on at the reunion. Ziggy hadn’t the graciousness to bring the others over for introductions, so the Chancellor walked past Ziggy while he was talking.

  “And these are your traveling companions?”

  “Only the young woman, a Toraltian. Her name is Glory Wheeler. The others were on the ship that brought us to Polistia from Wollia.”

  “Come up, all of you, to a reception room. I can provide you with some refreshments,” the chancellor said. “I am Deeter Temmis, and these are Fellows at the College. We call ourselves Cathartics, but that is a traditional name. There are no more true Cathartics in Trakata.”

  They followed Temmis to a large room with chairs placed around a large table and more chairs lining the room.

  “We can all sit at one end. I’d like to learn what brought you all together.”

  They each gave a limited version of their history. Two of the professors knew Banna’s father. One seemed placid about his name, and another obviously didn’t like Professor Plunk.

  Sam was the last to speak. He told them of his exile from Baskin, but the reason wasn’t due to h
is disability, but because his snooping went too high up in the Baskin nobility.

  “It is much the same anywhere, isn’t it?” Temmis said. “Our fine city of Pundia is plagued with three hierarchies. It has cost us dearly in recent weeks.”

  Desmon asked, “Why do everyone’s views bring violence to the city streets? Our innkeeper fears his inn will be burnt to the ground.”

  “Ah, that is a good question. In the past two years, affairs to the east in Vaarek and Ristaria have created sharp divisions that hadn’t existed. I’m afraid everyone, including the college, has lost a bit of their tolerance.”

  “Do you refer to Viktar Kreb’s dictatorship?” Banna asked.

  Temmis raised his eyebrows. “Since you asked, yes. We seek stability above all in the college, and that is what Kreb offers. The Pundians, our term for those in the upper city that do not agree with us, are more for the status quo. The thugs ruled by the Port Council in the lower city see Kreb as a threat to their kleptocratic administration of the harbor. You, unfortunately, are sitting here because of it.”

  The man sounded so reasonable, Sam thought, but he understood what the man meant by stability, an autocracy under the iron fist of Kreb. Temmis should see what was going on in Wollia, but maybe the man would applaud the instability that Kreb was intent on creating in that country. In fact, Sam guessed that Temmis was stirring the college students to be armed agents of Kreb creating a similar uproar in Pundia.

  Refreshments arrived. Sam was still full from dinner and sipped his drink, but he couldn’t resist a sweet, fresh pastry. Baked goods weren’t offered on board Captain Darter’s ship, except for the few days after a stop.

  The conversation turned to Ziggy and Temmis talking about mutual friends, something not at all interesting. He rose from his chair and went to the window just in time to see a group of masked people in robes carrying weapons and torches out the main gate.

  “Who are they?” he asked.

  One of the professors came to the window and chuckled. “Students will be students,” he said. “They may be a bit strident in defending the Cathartic traditions. We indulge them in their little diversions from time to time, since it helps them concentrate better on their studies.”