by Brian Keller
Seeing nothing, he moved briskly to the mast just to the fore of the helm and held himself motionless as he scanned the area around him yet again. He knew many mariners armed their crossbows with quarrels that had trident tips. Few handheld weapons appeared as vicious as those, in his opinion. He had no desire to feel a triple pointed bolt punch through his leather and into his flesh. The fact that all three points of those tips are barbed did nothing to cast them in a more favorable light.
As he stepped away from the rear mast he noticed a scrap of cloth under a pile of rope and a section of folded canvas. He recalled what Chesim had told him earlier and he knelt down and lifted a portion of the pile to look underneath. He thought, “I wonder if…?” Sure enough, pulling the cloth out from under revealed it was a flag from the island nation of Lukasi. As he pushed it back under the pile and let the ropes settle into a pile over it, he heard the center hatch open and heard someone utter a cry, “Dammit!” He then heard the hatch slam against the deck as it fell all the way back. There were a few voices that called from down below, “What the hell’s going on up there?!” was the voice that carried the clearest. The man standing up in the hatch called down, “The damn strap broke and the hatch fell away!” At the sound of the hatch opening, Cooper had dropped to a prone position near the pile of rope and canvas. The guard sitting along the rail hadn’t budged. The man at the hatch called out in a forced whisper, “Kayril.”, a pause, then again with more urgency, “Kayril!” Still no response. Cooper was able to hear fragments of muttering from the man at the hatch, “…asleep again…don’t blame me…catch another…lashes…pull duty again.” Cooper thought he might be able to guess the gist of it and then he saw the man climb up and lift the hatch, then guide it back in place above him as he climbed back down below deck. Soon all around him was silent except the lapping of the waves, the fluttering of the flag and Kayril’s light snoring.
He crept down from the raised stern castle and onto the main deck of the ship. He paused each time there was something to hide behind. At each pause, he’d listen for the regular sounds of Kayril’s breathing. He made his way to the hatch a lay down beside it, holding his head over it to listen beneath. He could hear the voice of the man that had poked his head above deck a few minutes ago. He wasn’t muttering now, but it was close, “Damn what a mess! I’d rather keep animals in the hold. Nothing stinks as bad as human shit and piss after it’s been bottled up for a month.” Cooper could hear what sounded like periodic retching as the man cursed to himself. He assumed that the human wastes the man was talking about had come from slaves held in chains down below, but he couldn’t be certain. He raised the hatch an inch or two, just enough to make a gap to peer through. The man was scrubbing the floor by the light of a lantern hanging on a hook. He was working the mop around a series of hoops bolted to the floor. Cooper had seen hoops just like that before, at the warehouse in the Waterfront. He eased the hatch closed, stood up and silently slipped past Kayril and down gangway.
*****
Iona felt the sensation push aside the fog of her colleague’s auras. Her target was near! To the northeast! It lasted only a few seconds but it was unmistakable. It had to either be in the Waterfront near the shore, or in the Wharf City. She looked around her and decided if she alerted the mages, they’d get excited and soon the area would be saturated. If that happened, she might not be able to sense her target even if he, she’d decided that it felt like a he, used their power again. She quickly slipped away and raced towards the waterfront. She heard the mages call out behind her, one or two in surprise and she distinctly heard her professor’s exclamation of outrage. Her Talent hadn’t ever contributed to her speed but she thought she might have enough of a head start to stay ahead.
She was mistaken, of course. The Nature mage was beside her in seconds, but she didn’t seem intent on stopping her. She simply asked, “Where are we going?” Iona couldn’t respond so conversationally, she was sprinting as fast as she could, “Waterfront… maybe further.” The Nature mage said, “Ok. I’ll just stay nearby. That won’t disturb you, will it?” If Iona hadn’t been so focused on trying to reach the Waterfront, she’d have been amazed that the Nature mage was so aware of being a distraction for her. As they approached the boardwalk, Iona held out her hand and the Nature mage dropped back. She looked left and right, trying to get a sense of which way she should be looking but the sensations had passed. The only candidates she could see were two young men coming off the second pier. As she moved towards them to see more clearly, she could tell that they were dressed in the fashion of Guild members. As she took another few steps she was suddenly surrounded by the rest of the group from the University. Her professor appeared livid, “Just what do you think you’re doing?!” She felt compelled to answer him immediately, but as she spoke she was drowned out by irate admonishments from the other mages. Once she was able to speak without interruption, she explained, “Sir, I felt the Gifted person in this direction and tried to follow it before it faded.” Her professor appeared slightly mollified, but only slightly, “And now?” Iona couldn’t stop her insolent response, “And now all I can feel is all of your auras saturating the area. How does that help us?!”
As the professor led them back toward the University, Iona couldn’t help but assume that she had some form of punishment awaiting her but that didn’t stop her from recounting what she’d seen and sensed tonight. She was sure there were plenty of people on the boats and any of them might be her Gifted target, but the fact that she’d seen the two young men, one large and one small, in Guild clothing walking away… and the Guild connection to the warehouse… she couldn’t ignore the coincidence but the pieces just weren’t fitting together for her. Still, the smaller boy probably wasn’t old enough to have even Manifested yet; so if it were one of them, then the older one was the most likely.
Chapter 20
Kolrem and Cooper had stepped off the boardwalk and wove between buildings in the Waterfront, always walking either south or west, working their way towards the Whitefoam. As they slipped between two buildings and into a dusty roadway, they heard shuffling feet and a low, tittering laugh from their right side. They turned to watch as a man in recently tattered clothing pull himself up from his seated position. He made no effort to knock the dust from his clothing, which appeared to have once been a little expensive, and might still be, if not for the fact that they’d been shredded and soiled over the last few days. The man’s voice came out as a warbling tenor, “Alms. Or you’ll lose everything.” Kolrem growled, “Sit back down, or be knocked down.” The man’s face split into a huge grin as he pranced around them in a half circle, looking like an uncoordinated primate, “Can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt me. Hee hee.” The young men shifted a few steps to create some space between themselves. As far as Cooper could see the man was unarmed, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be a threat. Both boys drew their blades. The man looked from one boy to the other, the grin never leaving his face, “Oh, look. Blades as alms! Those should fetch a pretty price. Yes, thank you, thank you. Yes, to climb the Apex again!” The boys glanced away from the man briefly to share a look of confusion. Obviously there was some form of drug in the man’s system or he had a mental illness. The man extended his hands as if to accept the blades he thought they were offering to him. As the boys made to step around him his grin disappeared. His expression changed to that of confusion but only for a moment before a complete look of rage expressed itself, “No. You give when asked. You don’t leave without giving. What isn’t given will be taken!” On that last word the man had been facing Kolrem, and he rushed at the young man with outstretched arms and clutching hands. Kolrem easily side-stepped the clumsy attack and before he could counter Cooper had already surged forward and gave the man a shove from behind. The added momentum was more than the man could compensate for and he immediately tumbled forward into the dust of the street. He rolled and rose quickly. As he turned, his voice almost became a stutter, “No-no-no-no. Not right.
” His voice raised to almost become a screech, “Not right at all.” He turned and rushed at Cooper, the same way he had at Kolrem moments earlier. He hadn’t taken three steps before Kolrem had rushed in and pommel-thumped the man behind his ear. The man fell forward and lay in the dust. He made a mewling noise, not unlike a newborn kitten, and gathered himself up to rise again. By now he was almost completely covered in a layer of fine dust, making him almost appear to be a living statue. He didn’t appear to notice, not even wiping dust from his eyes as he stood to face them again. As he stood, Kolrem spoke, “This guy should be unconscious.” He then spoke quickly to the man, “Stop this, or I’ll hit you even harder next time.” The man reached a hand up behind his ear and looked confused as his fingers came away bloody. He shook his head, “Can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt me.” He then rushed at Cooper, straight into the net that Cooper had prepared. The man cried out with a high-pitched screech when he realized his arms were hopelessly entangled. Cooper and Kolrem quickly rushed in to try and restrain the man as he pulled and tugged against the wires. Within moments the man was bleeding from dozens of cuts made by the netting and he became more tangled as he struggled. Kolrem stood away from the man, “There’s no reasoning with him, and no way to untangle him while he struggles like that.” Cooper stood, “So… knock him unconscious to sleep it off? We shouldn’t just leave him like this, should we?” The man continued to squeal and cry out and Kolrem shrugged, “You chose to defend with a net. You figure it out.” Cooper snorted, “Consequences, huh? You’re Master Worthan’s understudy now?” Kolrem gave him a look of disapproval and crossed his arms over his chest. Cooper shrugged, “Alright.” He knelt down and rolled the man onto his side and pulled him into a seated position, knelt behind him and laced an arm under the man’s chin, around his neck, and pulled tight. The man’s cries became a gurgle and then became abruptly silent. In less than ten seconds Cooper stood away and brushed the dust from his knees, “A quick blood choke then. Mister Skran taught us ‘more than five seconds, but less than twelve, unconsciousness if done properly; death, if maintained for too long.” Kolrem looked at the now-peaceful figure of the man, “So, we just leave him like this? Who’s to say what might happen to him, unconscious and tangled.” Cooper looked stunned, “For how long would you wish us to be responsible for this guy? Why should we care what happens to him after we’ve gone? So he’s helpless; what would he have done to us if we’d been ‘just kids’?” Still, Cooper knelt down and retrieved his netting, in effect freeing the man, before they turned south and continued walking. Kolrem gave the man another long look then hurried to catch up with his classmate.
Cooper had plenty to tell Kolrem once they’d crossed the Whitefoam. He was able to quietly relay most of it by the time they had the Guildhouse in sight. Kolrem appeared to be more than determined than ever, now that he felt he had some confirmation of his target’s involvement in the slave trade. Kolrem gave Cooper a nod, “Thanks for your help. I think I’ll just take care of it tonight. Quick and dirty.” Cooper had to admit, sometimes the simplest solutions were the best ones.
*****
After they’d returned to the University Iona had been cornered by her professor. He’d begun by slapping her across the face, which caused her to collect energy and begin building heat. She caught herself in time but she couldn’t conceal her response. He raised his hand again and this led to her first one-sided argument with her professor where she was the one speaking. She barely kept her voice below a scream, “It’s as if you’re angry with me because I can’t taste the sweetness of a single grain of sugar when you’ve buried it in a spoonful of salt! Could you tell the difference?! You have your observations, and you try to interpret what I tell you, and then you write it down as research… and then you charge in like an irresponsible novice and wonder why I can’t somehow reach past your collective auras to identify someone who’s no longer tapping into their abilities! For all your self-righteous pomp, it’s as if you have absolutely no understanding of how any of this works!” For her insolence and insubordination she received fifteen vigorous lashes.
Once she’d been dismissed, she returned to her room and lay face down on her bed. She knew she couldn’t sleep well in that position, but considering the burning welts on her back, it was unlikely that she’d sleep at all. Emmit did what he could for her afterward, but it was still horribly painful and she could feel that the stripes across her back were swelling and oozing. By morning they’ll have undoubtedly formed a stiff crust, which would surely crack and separate when she arose from bed. Yes, she had much to look forward to tomorrow.
*****
After breakfast, Cooper made his way to the Scenarios classroom. Miss Eiler spotted him as he entered the room and came to greet him, "Mister Cooper! I have heard that you’ve taken a name and received your assignment.” He nodded, “Yes, miss. That’s why I’m here. I’m looking for a little advice, or a moment of extra tutoring.” Her features visibly brightened, “Of course! How can I help?” Cooper explained his plan and after a couple hours of intensive instruction he knew more than he had ever considered about the duties and activities of an attendant. He asked, “Miss, I have no doubt that there’s a suit of clothes in here that would be perfect for an attendant. My question is, would you have a set that would fit me?” She covered her mouth as she gently laughed, “Probably, but if not, we can take a look at what we have and make arrangements to have one tailored for you. But in the meantime, let’s go through a few quick scenarios with me as your employer and you as my attendant.” Perhaps for the first time since he’d arrived to the Guild, he actually felt grateful for her attention.
Before another hour had passed, Mister Ysel joined them but glanced at Miss Eiler and said, “Our first class starts soon.” Miss Eiler gave a nod and told Cooper, “Let’s see what we have for clothes that might be suitable.” She began browsing through a few racks of outfits, selecting one that was a likely fit. She directed Cooper to stand on a low stool after he’d stripped down and pulled the outfit on. While he was changing clothes, she’d gone and found a stick of chalk and a pincushion. As he stood on the stool, she explained, “I actually worked as a seamstress’ assistant for several months. It’s surprising how often those skills have come to bear since then.” She tugged, pulled, gathered, marked and pinned for the next ten minutes then stood back and admired her handiwork, “Alright, now carefully peel those clothes off without disturbing the pins, or being jabbed by them.” As Cooper got undressed he asked, “What next, miss?” She smiled, “Well, I’ll select the best fabric for your new outfit, then cut out the sections and piece them together. I can work on it in my free time. All told, it shouldn’t take me more than three or four days. Is that soon enough for you?” He hopped around a time or two as he pulled on a boot. He paused long enough to reply, “Oh sure, miss. Three or four days should be great. In fact, I’m grateful. I hadn’t any reason to expect even this much help from you. I just stopped by for a little advice.”
*****
Iona was slow to rise in the morning. Despite the welts on her back, she’d managed to fall asleep. She must have been more tired than she’d thought. Breakfast was almost finished by the time she reached the cafeteria. She ate quickly, then reported to her professor’s research lab. “Research!”, she thought with disdain. The thought of it left a bitter taste in her mouth. As she looked around the room, she continued thinking, “I am his research. His ideas weren’t even his. He simply makes conclusions, several of them erroneous, based on my descriptions. Anything that disagreed with, or didn’t support his theories was simply never written down.” While she considered his findings would probably never be considered groundbreaking, she couldn’t imagine what purpose he might have, beyond that of increasing his recognition and chances for advancement, to skew the results of his studies.
As she approached her professor he pulled himself up straighter, as if to seem more imposing. She supposed that was meant to reinforce his sense of being in the r
ight, and of her being deserving of the beating he had administered. Iona adopted a submissive posture; it wouldn’t do her any good to further enflame a potentially volatile situation. She’d certainly said what was on her mind last night. There was little doubt that what she’d said had left him feeling wounded, perhaps because what she had said struck so close to the truth, and he knew it.
She shifted her position and winced a little as she felt a few of the scabs across her back get pulled tight. She knew she’d need to get to the Waterfront this morning and then back after lunch, unless Emmit was prepared to change her bandages without returning. Without regular bandage changes, her wounds would likely become infected, but she also knew that moving around would prevent her from stiffening up.
Once she reached the boardwalk and began walking around, she noticed that her tirades from last night had a positive effect; her escorts were maintaining a much wider perimeter and attempting to hold themselves in check. She could still sense them, but it was more like background noise rather than being surrounded by minstrels at a fair.
It was nearly lunchtime when she observed a cart being pulled down a pier by two porters. This was not an unusual sight but what she couldn’t understand why they were being escorted by one of the harbormasters. Harbormasters were generally in charge of navigation within the bay, mooring procedures and dock maintenance. They did play some role in customs and taxation, but rarely in the loading or unloading of cargo. The fact that the cart was covered with a tarp further tickled her curiosity. The cart stopped beside a ship from Caldori and the porters pulled the tarpaulin back to uncover the cargo. The harbormaster called up to the ship and moments later six sailors hurried down and gathered armloads and handfuls of chains and shackles and carried them aboard. These were identical to those she had seen in the warehouse. It seemed there was only one conclusion to be drawn here, the harbormaster was in league with the slavers, and the slavers were from Caldori. “But why are slaves being brought into the city? The penalties for owning slaves could be severe, including being put to death, so who was buying them?”, she wondered.
