by Dean Cadman
When they entered the edge of town they said their brief, but emotional farewells then headed off in opposite directions. Lusam and Neala headed straight towards the harbourmaster’s office, whilst Kira set off in the direction of the town’s tavern to see if her services might be required there.
“Do you think we’ll ever see her again?” Neala asked, looking over her shoulder at Kira in the distance.
Lusam smiled to himself. It had only been a week since Neala had refused to even speak with Kira, and now she was worried that she might never see her again. Kira was certainly very different from how he’d imagined, especially after hearing Neala’s initial warning about minstrels in general. But he guessed Neala would be the first to admit that she’d been wrong about her, if the subject ever came up. “I don’t know, but I’ll miss her,” Lusam replied.
“Yeah, me too.”
As they rode towards the harbourmaster’s office, Lusam began to notice several people in the street staring at them. Some simply walked by, whilst others stopped mid-stride to stare openly at them. It made Lusam feel slightly uncomfortable, and by the way Neala was fidgeting in her saddle, he could tell that she felt the same way too.
“What are they all looking at?” she whispered, through clenched teeth.
“I’m not sure, but just keep moving,” Lusam replied under his breath. It was difficult to judge whether or not they were hostile by their facial expressions. Some of them looked scared or threatened, whilst others looked happy, or even excited. He decided not to take the risk and erected a magical barrier around himself and Neala just in case they suddenly became hostile towards them.
A few moments later they arrived outside the harbourmaster’s office and dismounted their horses. Lusam clearly remembered Renn’s previous warning about Fairport being well-known for having its fair share of thieves and vagabonds, and that they wouldn’t think twice about helping themselves to their supplies if given half a chance. But the truth was, they had already used most of their supplies, and even the horses were barely worth stealing. The previous horses they had sold in Fairport had brought such a low price that it was hardly worth the effort of selling them at all. So if someone did steal them whilst they were inside the harbourmaster’s office, he wasn’t about to lose any sleep over it.
Lusam had scanned the docks and wide open bay for any sign of Captain Waylon’s ship, the Pelorus, but it was nowhere to be seen. He just hoped that they were due back soon, and hadn’t recently departed on a long voyage somewhere. The old man, Lamar, was key to everything now. If Lusam couldn’t fix his broken mind and retrieve the information that they needed, their quest would be over, even before it began. But that was only one of the problems which they faced. The other was convincing Captain Waylon to transport them free of charge to wherever The Pearl Isles were, or as old Lamar had called them, the Monmeriath Isles. If they couldn’t do that, they would be in big trouble because they no longer had enough gold to pay anyone else to take them.
Lusam climbed the three wooden steps to the harbourmaster’s office, and Neala followed close behind. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, before knocking firmly on the door.
“Enter,” a familiar voice called out. Lusam opened the door and they both stepped inside the warm stuffy office. Byron was busy writing at his desk and Lusam was halfway across the room before he looked up. His eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across his face when he saw them. Lusam had been worried that Byron might not remember them, but that was obviously not the case.
“Lusam, Neala, what a pleasant surprise,” he said, standing up and offering them his hand. “Isn’t Renn with you?” he asked, looking slightly worriedly towards the door.
“No. No, he’s not,” Lusam replied, then noticing the worried look on Byron’s face, he added, “but he’s fine, and sends his regards.”
Byron visibly relaxed again upon hearing Lusam’s words. “Ah, that’s good. I thought for a moment there, the old fool had gotten himself injured or killed after leaving here on your last mission. Speaking of which, I hear that you’ve been very busy of late,” he said, chuckling to himself.
“What do you mean?” Lusam asked, feeling his face begin to flush.
“Well, we might be a small remote seaport, but we still hear stories and rumours, you know, lad.”
“Such as?” Lusam asked, not knowing if he really wanted to know. Byron opened his desk drawer and took out a bottle of brandy and three glasses. He had already begun to pour the second glass, when Neala politely refused a drink for herself. Lusam found himself holding a glass of his own without even realising it, whilst his mind wandered over what rumours were circulating about him this time.
“I heard what you did at Lamuria… Seven Hells, lad, you sure stuck it to ’em,” Byron said, chuckling loudly. “You were already a hot topic of conversation here in Fairport, because of what you did aboard the Pelorus. At first no one believed the crew’s stories about you sinking those Empire ships, but when word reached us about what you did to those Empire magi at Lamuria… well, lad, all that soon changed. But it wasn’t until one of the fleet Captains brought back a fantastical story from the Nauroe, that people really began to take notice. The Nauroe spoke of a powerful young mage who had set sail for Thule, intent on killing the mighty Lord Zelroth. They didn’t know what eventually happened to the young mage, but they told of what he did to the Empire’s fleet of ships that awaited him. They say he sent every one of them to the bottom of Irragin’s bay, along with every soul aboard them.”
Lusam was speechless that news of his actions had spread so quickly, and so far. He looked at Neala and saw the same shock echoed on her face, too.
“Is it true, lad? Did you really sink all of their ships like that?” Byron asked, leaning forward in his chair. Lusam didn’t really want to talk about it. The memories of killing so many people, along with the failure to save his mother almost overwhelmed him. All he could do was silently nod in reply. Byron slapped his desk hard and whooped loudly, startling both Lusam and Neala.
“I knew it! I knew it was true. No one believed it at first, but eventually another Captain said he’d met a man in one of the coastal towns to the south, who claimed to have seen it with his own eyes.”
Lusam turned to face Neala, and he could see that she was thinking the same thing as him: Durlan. Byron suddenly tilted his head a little, as if straining to hear something, then looked up towards the door. He stood up from behind his desk, still clutching his glass of brandy, and walked slowly over to the window to peer out.
“You have no idea what effect you’ve had on the lives of the people here, lad. The High Temple and Afaraon as a whole may owe you a great debt for what you did at Lamuria, but what you did to the Empire’s fleet in Thule… that has changed everything for the people of Fairport, as well as countless other communities up and down the coast. When you were last here people were on the brink of starvation. Ships and men were being lost at an alarming rate to the Empire forces. Men who had worked hard all of their lives suddenly found themselves without employment and were unable to feed their families. Shipments rotted in the warehouses because no Captain would sail for fear of losing his ship, or even worse.”
Byron took a swig of his brandy, but remained by the window, looking out. “Anyway, enough of all of that. Either you’ve finally come to take me fishing, or you need to speak to me about something else,” he said, finally returning to his seat. Lusam was slightly confused about the reference to fishing, but then he remembered what Renn had told him when they’d been aboard the Pelorus. Apparently, after hearing that Lusam could pull gold out of the river with his magic, Byron had joked with Renn about going fishing with him at a later date.
Lusam smiled at the joke. “No, not fishing I’m afraid. I came to speak with a man called Lamar. He’s…”
“Lamar… as in the crazy old Lamar, from the Pelorus?” Byron said, sounding a little shocked.
“Yes, do you know him?” Lusam replied.
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br /> “Everyone in Fairport knows old Lamar. In fact, the only person who doesn’t know who he is, is Lamar himself,” Byron replied, chuckling. “You’d stand a better chance of having a meaningful conversation with your horse outside. At least it would probably listen to you, even if it didn’t talk back. Which is more than you’re likely to get from old Lamar, I can tell you that.”
“Maybe, but I at least have to try. I presume with what you’ve just said, that he still works on the Pelorus. If so, can you tell me when they’re due back in port?”
Byron laughed. “I don’t think anyone on board the Pelorus would accuse old Lamar of working, lad, but yes, he still sails aboard her. Why Captain Waylon even keeps the old fool around, only Aysha knows. But he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to get rid of him. Something to do with him being lucky for the ship, I heard. Captains and their superstitions, bah… all nonsense if you ask me, lad,” Byron said, opening a large book and searching down a column on the right. “Here we are, the Pelorus… they set sail eight days ago with a cargo of timber bound for Landow, a small coastal town just south of the Tahst River. Looking at this, they should be back tomorrow afternoon with the high tide. And I doubt that they’ll be late, or they’d likely miss their next delivery deadline, according to my records.”
Lusam nodded. At least the Pelorus was due back in port relatively soon. But he still had no idea if Captain Waylon would agree to take them to the Monmeriath Isles without payment. Although, none of that would matter if he couldn’t first discover its location from Lamar’s damaged mind. Lusam knew that he wouldn’t know the answer to that until he tried, but at least in the meantime, he might gain some insight into his chances of convincing Captain Waylon to take them there for free.
“Byron, do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Sure, go ahead, lad.”
“How well do you know Captain Waylon?”
Byron took a slow sip of his brandy whilst he thought carefully about his reply. “Well, lad, if you’d asked me that question six months ago, my answer would have been quite different, I can assure you. Back then, as you already know, he was a heavy gambler with many debts to his name. He seemed to care little for the livelihood of his crew, just as long as his seat remained open at the local card table. But ever since you gave him that second chance and he was able to settle his debts, as far as I know, he hasn’t even stepped foot inside a gambling house since. He’s rebuilt his business and reputation here in Fairport, and his crew are loyal to him. I don’t know what happened on that voyage you shared, but he certainly came back a changed man. Now, with that said, I don’t claim to be a close friend of the man. So depending on what you’re about to ask me, I can’t promise to have all the answers you seek, lad.”
Lusam nodded again. “I understand. My question is this—do you think Captain Waylon could be convinced to take us somewhere without payment? There wasn’t enough time for us to collect any more gold…”
Byron almost choked on his brandy laughing, and it took him quite a while to catch his breath before he could speak again. Lusam didn’t take his reaction as a good sign and he began to wonder if they might indeed be forced to go back to Helveel and collect more gold. He supposed there might be a slim chance that Captain Waylon might take them on a promise of gold later, but he doubted it having just seen Byron’s reaction.
Byron stood up from behind his desk, still coughing in between chuckles, and headed back towards the window. “I really don’t think you understand, lad,” he said, looking out.
“No, I think you’ve made it quite clear what his answer is likely to be,” Lusam said, trying not to sound too offended by Byron’s obvious amusement.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Captain Waylon, if I were you, lad. I don’t think for one second that he’d refuse your request. But even if he did, it wouldn’t matter anyway.”
Lusam tried to turn in his chair to see if he was jesting, but ended up having to stand instead. “I don’t think you understand how important our mission is, Byron. If we don’t…” Lusam started to say, but Byron held up a hand and stopped him mid-sentence.
“I think I should show you something, lad,” Byron said, grinning at him and heading for the door. Lusam looked at Neala and she just shrugged. It seemed that she was just as confused as he was. Byron waited until they were both standing by the door before he opened it. Just as he did, Lusam noticed that he was still holding the glass of brandy that he’d been given earlier. He stepped out through the open doorway, looking for somewhere to place his glass until they got back from wherever Byron was taking them, and walked straight into him when he stopped abruptly in his tracks. Lusam looked up to apologise and was dumbstruck by what he saw. Hundreds of men, women and children had gathered on the street outside, and they were all looking directly at him. No one moved or made a sound. It was as if the whole of Fairport had suddenly become frozen in time.
“What are they all doing here?” Lusam whispered under his breath.
Byron chuckled. “Well, it’s not my birthday, lad, so I’m guessing they’re here to see you.”
The eerie silence seemed to stretch on and on, but eventually one man stepped forward from the crowd. He looked directly at Lusam for a moment, then turned to address Byron.
“Is that him? … Is he the one?” the man asked nervously, wringing his doffed cap in his hands.
Byron smiled at the man and nodded, causing a wave of excited whispers to pass through the gathered crowd. Dozens of them immediately removed their own hats in a show of respect, some even bowing their heads.
“So it’s true then… what they say he did to the Empire fleet?” the man asked wide-eyed.
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him yourself?” Byron replied, stepping aside so that Lusam could address the crowd more easily. Lusam’s heart began to race as he edged slowly forward. The man immediately averted his eyes, suddenly content to look at the ground directly in front of him. He was obviously too nervous to ask his question again, now that he had to address Lusam directly.
Lusam couldn’t ever remember feeling more uncomfortable in his entire life. Even when he’d made his speech at the King’s banquet, he hadn’t felt as nervous as he did right now. He had absolutely no idea what to say to them. They obviously believed that they owed him a great debt for doing what he had to the Empire’s fleet. But truth be told, he had only done it for his own, selfish, reasons. Helping these people had never even crossed his mind. He believed at the time that if he didn’t destroy the ships and their crews, he would stand far less chance of rescuing his mother. Something which he failed to achieve regardless, making their deaths even more meaningless in his eyes.
After the torturous memories of his mother’s last moments had finally subsided, he took a deep breath to steady himself.
“Yes… it’s true,” Lusam said quietly.
The sudden sounds of elation from the crowd seemed deafening after the long eerie silence. People cheered loudly and chanted his name over and over. Hats flew into the air, and people called out in gratitude to him. Dancing spontaneously broke out in the street and young children darted off in various directions to inform friends and family of the good news. Lusam startled when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. When he turned to see who it was, he saw Byron smiling at him.
“Now do you understand, lad, what it means to these people? You haven’t only given them their livelihoods back, you’ve also given them something far better. Hope for the future,” Byron said, giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze.
Sensing his uneasiness at the crowd, Neala came to stand by his side and took hold of his hand. He had expected her to be as unsettled by it all as he was, but when he looked at her face she seemed to be taking it all in her stride. In fact, she looked as if she might even be enjoying it a little.
“You look like you might need that,” she said, nodding towards the glass of brandy still in his hand and smiling. He found himself agreeing with her, and quaffed the entire glas
s in one go, then immediately regretted it as he felt it burn all the way to his stomach. The alcohol vapour also took away his breath, causing him to cough and splutter loudly. Byron roared with laughter and clapped him firmly on the back.
“How can you even drink that stuff?” Lusam managed to say between gasps of air, causing Byron to laugh even louder.
“Trust me, lad, that’s the good stuff.”
Lusam looked at him in disbelief. “I’d hate to taste the bad stuff then,” he said, screwing up his face at the thought of it.
“Aye, lad, I dare say you would,” Byron agreed, chuckling to himself. “Now, let’s go back inside where it’s warm, and you can tell me all about your adventures since we last met.”
“Only if you promise not to make me drink any more of your brandy,” Lusam replied seriously, bringing forth yet more roars of laughter from the harbourmaster.
Chapter Eight
The daylight outside was fading fast by the time Lusam and Neala had finished recounting their recent exploits to Byron. During that time his office had been visited by no fewer than six different Captains, four of whom had said they would be more than willing to transport Lusam and Neala to wherever they needed to go without charge, should they require it. The other two had also agreed in principle, but said they had other business to attend to first. They were so apologetic over it, that Lusam almost felt ashamed that Byron had asked them at all. It soon became clear that Byron hadn’t been overstating the impact of Lusam’s actions on the lives of the people in Fairport. And he assured him that the same would likely be true of every other coastal town and village throughout Afaraon.
Lusam quickly came to like and trust Byron, and was sure that Neala felt the same way about him too. He thought it was because Byron reminded him so much of Renn. Which wasn’t a surprise really, as he and Renn were already close friends and had previously served together at the High Temple. They even shared a similar sense of humour, and no doubt the same unflinching sense of duty, too.
