by Dean Cadman
The streets and docks were eerily quiet, and even the few people still moving around seemed to be doing so at a far more restrained pace than usual. No doubt most of the inhabitants of Fairport were still in their beds sleeping off the excesses of the previous night, and those that weren’t probably wished that they were.
Lusam didn’t remember too much about the night before, especially the latter parts of it. But he did remember hearing the second performance of Kira’s new ballad about the recent battle at The Rift. It had been at least as good, if not better than her Battle of Lamuria ballad, and judging by the reaction of the crowd, they had thought so too. He vaguely remembered Kira coming to join them during her short break, but Lusam had been content to let the two girls talk amongst themselves, whilst he enjoyed more of the free ale. It wasn’t until now, that he suddenly found himself curious as to what they spoke about.
“Kira seemed very happy last night,” Lusam said, attempting to broach the subject. He wasn’t sure if Neala was still angry with him for drinking so much, so he decided to tread carefully with what he said.
“Yes, she was. And you might know why if you hadn’t been too drunk to listen,” she replied, a little acidly.
“I wasn’t drunk…” he started to protest, but the look Neala gave him left him in no doubt that he was about to lose that argument. Instead, he simply said, “Sorry,” and left it at that. They were halfway to Byron’s office before curiosity got the better of him once more. “So, are you going to tell me what Kira was so happy about, or not?”
Neala left the question hanging for a moment before replying, as if deciding whether or not he deserved an answer after what he had done. “If you must know,” she said, testily, “Kira wasn’t simply happy, she was ecstatic at how things had turned out for her. Simply because, for her to be seen speaking to two people who might be us in a tavern outside Helveel is one thing, but to be seen here in Fairport in our confirmed presence, with so many witnesses, and be able to announce openly that she had gained the information in her songs directly from us… well, you can imagine. To say that she was confident her new ballads would become the accepted renditions throughout Afaraon is an understatement, to say the least. Although, Kira did say that she wasn’t too sure about her final song of the evening. She thought that she might let some other Minstrel take the credit for that one.”
“Oh… what was that one called? I must have missed it.”
“The Drunken Mage,” Neala replied, leaving Lusam frozen to the spot in her wake.
When Lusam and Neala arrived at Byron’s office they found him absent and the door locked.
“I’m here,” Byron called out from across the street. He was carrying several heavy looking books, as well as a leather satchel over his shoulder. He climbed the three wooden steps to his office then precariously balanced the pile of books on the bannister whilst he attempted to locate his office keys.
“Here, allow me,” Lusam said, magically unlocking the door with a loud click.
Byron gave him a sideways glance. “I could use those talents during some of my unannounced warehouse inspections,” he said, chuckling to himself as he opened the door. He dropped the books on his desk and hung the leather satchel on a hook on the back wall, before slumping heavily into his chair.
“Bad day?” Neala enquired.
“You’ve no idea,” Byron replied, shaking his head. “Whatever went on at that celebration last night has certainly affected the smooth running of my docks this morning. Most of the Captains allowed their men to attend the festivities, especially those with families here. But I expect many of them are regretting that decision now. Less than half the men have turned up for work this morning, both ships’ crews and warehouse workers. Even the few vessels with enough crew members to sail have been unable to, due to their cargo not being loaded or unloaded on time. I have a dock full of disgruntled Captains screaming at me to do something about it, and a town full of sodden drunkards still in bed. And I have no idea what to do about it. I don’t suppose you have any suggestions, lad?”
“Ha! He’s the last person you should be asking advice from regarding drunkards,” Neala said, glaring at Lusam.
Byron immediately understood the implications and began chuckling once more. He opened his desk drawer and took out his bottle of brandy, then watched Lusam’s face turn a pale shade of green when he offered him some. Even Neala saw the funny side of that and briefly joined in with Byron’s cruel laughter.
“What time is Captain Waylon due to arrive?” Lusam asked, attempting to change the subject.
Byron nodded towards the window. “He’s already here, lad. I’m surprised you didn’t see his ship in the bay with all of the others.”
“I guess the problem is going to be finding him a place to dock,” Neala said.
“Precisely. That’s why I went to collect all of these,” Byron replied, placing his hand on the pile of books. “They’re the docked ships’ manifests. I told the Captains of those vessels that I would prioritise anyone with perishable cargoes or strict delivery dates. I just hope there’s at least one ship amongst them that doesn’t come under those categories, then I can provide Captain Waylon with a place to dock.”
Lusam knew that he could simply levitate himself and Neala across the bay to the Pelorus. But he also knew that Captain Waylon would be unlikely to agree to leave Fairport without loading his cargo first, especially since he had no gold to pay him in lieu.
“What do you think the chances are?” Lusam asked, nodding towards the pile of manifests.
“I don’t know, lad. Let’s find out, shall we?” Byron said, retrieving the first book from the pile.
Fortunately, Byron discovered that one of the vessels was only carrying a cargo of rutabagas, a long-lasting root vegetable that could easily withstand the short delay required to dock Captain Waylon’s ship. He informed Lusam and Neala that the Captain of the vessel wouldn’t be happy giving up his berth to another ship in the fleet, but he was harbourmaster, and as such, it was he who decided which ships were allowed to load and unload their cargoes first—whether the Captains liked it or not. Byron, however, asked Lusam and Neala to remain in his office whilst he went to speak with the Captain alone, and they were more than happy oblige. They both knew it was indirectly their fault that the docks weren’t running smoothly that morning, and the last thing they wanted to do was to be seen as the reason for this particular Captain having to give up his berth in favour of another ship. Especially the Pelorus, a ship already known be associated with Lusam and Neala.
Lusam watched the proceedings through the office window, and could tell even from where he was that the Captain wasn’t happy about the news. He seemed to quickly realise, however, that arguing with Byron would do him no good at all, and after a few indiscriminate hand gestures returned to his ship and began making ready to leave the dock. Lusam had expected Byron to return to his office, but instead, he walked off in the opposite direction towards the far end of the docks. All became clear a moment later when the man he’d just spoken to got into a small boat and began rowing across the bay towards Captain Waylon’s ship.
Byron returned to his office fifteen minutes later carrying a small package.
“Well, that was fun,” he said sarcastically, as he sat down behind his desk.
“He didn’t take it well then?” Lusam asked, grinning.
Byron chuckled to himself. “You could say that, lad, but he’ll just have to get over it. Here, I got you these to eat,” he said, pushing the small package across the desk towards him.
“What is it?” Lusam asked, eagerly unwrapping the package. The smell hit him even before he saw what it was, and he involuntarily dry retched. Even Neala curled her nose up and turned away from the stench.
“It’s a fish called scorby. Don’t worry, lad, it always smells like that, but it’s a very effective hangover cure,” Byron said, grinning widely and taking a small fish for himself.
“You don’t seriously
expect me to eat that, do you?” Lusam asked, grimacing at the thought.
Byron laughed loudly. “They’re really quite tasty, once you get over the smell of them,” he said, taking a bite out of his fish. Lusam dry retched again at the sight of him eating the foul-smelling fish, and Neala stood up and went to the door for some air.
“I’ll have to take your word for that,” Lusam replied, quickly wrapping the fish back up in its packaging at arm’s length, attempting to reduce the stench a little. He was thankful that Neala had opened the office door, and used his magic to swiftly flush the air inside the room. Still chuckling to himself, Byron finished eating the last of his scorby, then wiped his hands clean on an old rag from his desk drawer.
“It’ll probably take the best part of an hour before Captain Waylon’s ship has docked, so how about you tell me why you want to speak with old Lamar so badly?” Byron said.
Lusam stood up and went to look out of the office window whilst he decided which details, if any, that he could safely reveal to Byron. He was still concerned about speaking openly of their plans just in case Aamon overheard, but he also knew that if Aamon was indeed monitoring them, their destination of Fairport would have been obvious to him at least a couple of days ago. And Lusam had already revealed to Byron that he wished to speak with Lamar, and that they might need a ship to take them on a voyage somewhere afterwards. As he recalled the previous day’s conversation with Byron, he suddenly realised something else.
“Where did our horses go?” Lusam asked, looking at the empty space where they had left them.
Byron chuckled and shook his head. “It took you long enough to notice, lad. After you abandoned them here last night, I had them sent to the stables for safe keeping. Don’t worry though, I made sure they knew whose horses they are, and that you would be coming back for them at some point. So I’m sure they’ll be well looked after. Your gear is in that cupboard over there,” he said, nodding towards a large walk-in cupboard at the opposite end of the office. “I wasn’t sure what you needed so I just removed everything from the horses, apart from their saddles, of course.”
“Oh, thanks for doing that, Byron. I completely forgot about the poor animals last night with everything that was going on,” Lusam said.
“Yeah, me too. Poor things would have been very cold and hungry standing out there all night,” Neala agreed.
“I doubt that, lass,” Byron replied, grinning. “It’s much more likely that they’d have been halfway to Helveel by now if you’d left them unattended for that long. Fairport isn’t exactly known for the upstanding nature of its folk, if you get my meaning.”
Lusam was aware that he hadn’t answered Byron’s earlier question regarding Lamar yet. And after a little more consideration, he came to the conclusion that it was pointless keeping the information from him any longer. He would have to discuss it with Captain Waylon when he arrived anyway, and he doubted that an extra few minutes of secrecy would make much difference now. Even so, he decided to erect a magical soundproof barrier around the room. He had no idea if it would, or even could prevent Aamon from overhearing their conversation, but at least it made him feel a little better about speaking openly.
“Lamar…” Lusam began to say, then paused. “…Lamar might know the location of a certain island that I’ve been looking for. Whilst we were aboard the Pelorus, during one of his… clearer moments, Lamar made mention of it. But before I could find out more from him, his mind shifted again and I could no longer reach him.”
Byron thought for a moment, then asked, “And what makes you think that he’ll be any more coherent this time, lad? From what I’ve heard recently, his mind has all but failed him now.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that, Byron, because I was relying on being able to repair his mind and gain the information that I need from him. If he has deteriorated as much as you suggest, that may no longer be possible,” Lusam replied, solemnly.
“I know it’s not really any of my business, lad, but why didn’t you repair his mind the last time you met him, and get what you needed then?” Lusam knew he couldn’t tell Byron that his magical abilities had been enhanced since they’d last met by reading the Guardian book at the High Temple. Although Byron probably already knew the legend regarding the Guardian books, having studied and worked at the High Temple, he certainly wouldn’t be aware of their location—and it needed to remain that way.
“I didn’t know how to repair his mind the last time we met, but I’ve had a while to think about it since then, and now I think I might know a way to do it,” Lusam replied. He hated having to lie to him, but he knew it was necessary.
Byron nodded slightly and grunted. “Well, lad, we’d best hope there’s enough of old Lamar’s mind left to fix then.”
Lusam nodded, and offered a silent prayer to Aysha that he wasn’t already too late.
Chapter Ten
The time passed quickly whilst they waited for Captain Waylon to dock his ship and visit the harbourmaster’s office. During that time, Byron had been keen to learn what had happened during their previous voyage aboard the Pelorus, and Lusam had been more than happy to tell him. It had certainly been a lot less painful discussing those events, than many others that Byron could have asked about.
Lusam was in the midst of telling Byron about Renn’s unfortunate encounter with the horses in Prystone when a knock finally came at the door. It took Byron a moment to stop laughing at the image of Renn being dragged around a muddy field by his legs, but when he did, he called out for whoever it was to enter. The door opened and in stepped Captain Waylon. He was looking intently at some paperwork in his hand as he stepped through the doorway. Lusam glanced up at the man and immediately noticed that he looked different somehow. He was still the same large, muscular, middle-aged man that he had met a few months earlier. His bald head was still completely covered in tattoos, and his skin was still the colour of tanned leather, but something was definitely different about him. Then Lusam realised what it was—his clothing. He still wore the same calf-high black leather boots, leather trousers, and leather waistcoat, but now they were much cleaner. His boots shone as if they had recently been polished, and his white shirt was positively pristine, especially compared with the discoloured, well-worn shirt he had seen him wearing before. It appeared that Byron was right, Captain Waylon had turned his life around, and not just by giving up his gambling habits.
“Not that I don’t appreciate you lettin’ me jump the queue, harbourmaster, but why…” Captain Waylon began to say, then as he looked up from his paperwork, he noticed Lusam and Neala smiling at him from the other end of the room. His eyes went wide with surprise and he rushed over to shake their hands whilst wearing a huge grin. “Well, I’ll be… Lusam and Neala, what pleasant surprise to be seeing you two ’ere. I don’t know if you both realise it, but ya kinda famous ’round these parts now, ya know.”
Lusam chuckled. “Yeah, we’ve noticed that.”
“I know better than most what you’re capable of, Lusam, but I still ’ave to ask. Did you really do what they say ya did to those scurvy Empire ships?” Lusam smiled and nodded. Captain Waylon clapped him hard on the back and roared with laughter. “I knew it! I told ’em you’d done it. I told ’em all. No one in the fleet has seen hide nor hair of an Empire ship in months, and now we knows why. Oh… what I’d ’ave given to see it with me own eyes, Lusam,” he said, shaking his head to himself. “Ah well, I suppose I’d best let you get on with whatever business you ’ave ’ere with the harbourmaster. If you’d be so kind as to sign my papers, harbourmaster, I’ll be on my way and leave you good people to it.”
“They’re not actually here to see me, Captain, they’ve been waiting to speak with you,” Byron said, taking Captain Waylon’s papers and quickly signing them.
“Oh… I see. Well, I guess that explains the queue jumping at the docks then,” Captain Waylon said, taking back his signed paperwork from Byron, then turning to face Lusam and Neala. “So, what is
it that you want to speak to me about?”
Lusam thought for a moment before replying. He didn’t really know Captain Waylon all that well, and therefore didn’t know how he’d react to his requests. Lusam didn’t think for one moment that he would refuse him access to Lamar, but convincing Captain Waylon to take them on an unpaid voyage to an unknown location was another matter entirely. Lusam took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He knew that everything might depend on what he said and did next. Not only the lives of his friends, who were still defending The Rift, but the lives of everyone in Afaraon, and possibly the entire world. With a final check of his magical soundproof barrier, he began.
“I actually need to ask two things of you, Captain. But before I do, I need your word that whatever you hear within this room is never again repeated outside of it, and that goes for Byron too. Although I can’t give you any real details about our mission, I can say this. The success or failure of it will determine the future of Afaraon. In fact, if we do fail, Afaraon may very well not have a future at all. So, do I have your word?”
“Aye, you do,” Captain Waylon replied. Lusam looked over at Byron, and he nodded his agreement too.
“Thank you. Now, I apologise to you both that I can’t divulge our full plans, but you’ll just have to trust me on that, I’m afraid. I can, however, tell you the reason for that. You may, or may not have already heard the rumour about the sacred bell glowing at The Sanctum of Light. Well, it’s true, The Rift has been opened again.” Both men cursed at the news but remained silent so Lusam could continue. “Fortunately, The Rift was only partially reopened, and a small group of brave paladins managed to stem the flow of Netherworld creatures until reinforcements arrived. Apparently, Aamon hasn’t been idle during his long imprisonment, either. He has… adapted many of the Netherworld creatures to better suit his needs, making them stronger, smarter, and even deadlier than before. Most of the creatures that came through The Rift and escaped into the forest prior to the reinforcements arriving have now been killed. But even with my best efforts, I was only able to shrink the size of The Rift, and not reseal it as I’d hoped. Even now, Aamon gathers his strength within the Netherworld to force open The Rift again, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s strong enough to do so.
