"What about landing along the Northern Wastes or northern Endland? That would make for a relatively short journey to Ohmahold," Chase asked.
"Endland is densely populated, and the Northern Wastes are aptly named; they are barren and lifeless, and they can be deadly to cross. Autumn is nearly upon us, and the winter snows will soon cover the Wastes. I think we'll be best served by going south to Drascha Stone," Benjin replied.
After much deliberation, it was agreed that Benjin's plan was the most sound. His knowledge of this foreign land was far greater than what Catrin and the others possessed. When Pelivor returned, Captain Trell accompanied him. She greeted them briefly before getting straight to the point. "Where will you go?"
Benjin looked as if he would speak, but Catrin beat him to it. "We'll travel to the southern coast of Mundleboro, presuming the arrangements can be made."
"Your choices are few, and all of them dangerous, but I assume you are well aware of that. My options are limited in these dire circumstances, and I'm afraid your accommodations will be much less comfortable from here. There's a ship that should do this deed for me since her captain owes me his skin, but he is not the most trustworthy fellow. You are certain of your course, are you not? I'll not be able to change these arrangements once they are set. Please consider your options wisely. I'll send Pelivor for your answer on the morrow," Captain Trell said before she left.
None of them came up with a better plan, despite hours of contemplation, and on the next day, they gave Pelivor confirmation of their desires. Catrin had hoped she would feel better once the decision was made, but instead she found her anxiety increasing. Life was about to start moving at full speed once again, and she was afraid she'd lost her stride-if she had ever truly had it.
The months spent in close quarters had taken their toll. It seemed the group had run out of things to say, and each moment seemed to drag on. Having been reminded of the dangers ahead, Catrin and the others dearly wished to just get on with it.
Three days later, Pelivor brought them a large meal and word to prepare to change ships. "Your passage was difficult to secure, but Captain Trell bribed a mercenary ship to carry you to Mundleboro. The Nightfist should arrive after midnight. I'll let you know when they are prepared to receive you," he said then excused himself. He returned a short while later laden with packs, bedrolls, and a rather large coin purse. "Compliments of Captain Trell. She sends you luck."
Benjin accepted the gifts and weighed the purse in his hand. He looked as if he wanted to return it, to say it was too much, but then he seemed to swallow his pride. Catrin was glad he mastered himself. They would need coin during their travels, and now she had one less worry.
"You may keep the clothes that fit you, and I'll be happy to pack them if you wish," Pelivor said.
"Thank you," Catrin replied. "That is a generous gift, and we'll gladly accept it, but we can pack them. It'll give us something to occupy our idle hands." Thinking about the journey ahead, she could not decide if she was more excited or terrified; the two emotions churned in her gut, and she began to feel ill. A big part of her wished to stay aboard the Trader's Wind and hide for the rest of her life, but she knew she could not.
Chase and Strom tried to appear confident, but they could not hide their trepidation from her; she could feel the anxiety radiating from them. Her senses had become more attuned to her companions during the long voyage, and she felt much closer to them all, if not too close. She could sense that Benjin was reliving old and painful memories, and Vertook was terrified of boarding a smaller ship again, but she could also sense his desire to reach dry land.
"Get some sleep while you still can," Benjin said. "We'll want to be well rested when we board the Nightfist. "
While Catrin agreed, she found it impossible to sleep. Knowing she was not alone in her insomnia did nothing to console her. When Pelivor finally arrived, Catrin yawned and had trouble keeping her eyes open. The rush of excitement had worn off, and she was drained and exhausted. Cursing herself for not sleeping while she could, she pulled herself from the comfortable chair and watched as the others rose no more quickly.
"I want to thank you all for your kindness during this journey," Pelivor said. "Thank you for including me in your games and storytelling. I enjoyed it very much. Captain Trell sends her thanks as well." Pelivor presented each of them with a gift. His gifts were simple, but the thought behind them was without price. To Vertook he gave a carving of a horse; the mighty steed it depicted was in full stride with its mane and tail flying in the wind. Vertook marveled over it and shocked Pelivor by embracing him in a bear hug.
When Pelivor turned to Strom, he produced a small canvas painted with brightly colored depictions of several plants. "This canvas can be used safely in an emergency," he said with a straight face, "but the plants drawn on it should be avoided." Strom flushed, but when Pelivor cracked a smile, he laughed aloud.
Next, Pelivor made his way to Chase and presented him with a small herb kit, complete with notes on which herbs to use for various ailments. "I hope your shoulder heals well, but in the meantime, this should help," he said, and Chase thanked him for the generous gift, shaking his hand firmly.
Osbourne clearly didn't know what to expect, and Pelivor had a sly smile on his face as he approached. He handed Osbourne a small stone vial filled with clear liquid. "This perfume is guaranteed to win the affections of any woman who smells it," Pelivor said loudly. Osbourne flushed and looked extremely uncomfortable. Catrin asked for a sniff, and Osbourne quickly but carefully stashed the vial in his pocket. Catrin laughed, and Pelivor winked at her.
Benjin stood with his arms crossed and stared down his nose at Pelivor, managing to look somewhat imposing. Pelivor hesitated for a moment.
"You deserve whatever you get, Benjin Hawk," Catrin said, "especially after the way you teased him about women."
Benjin let a small smile play across his face but maintained a defensive posture. Pelivor presented him with a hand-painted pickup grid. The lines were precisely drawn and the text beautifully penned. "Thank you, Pelivor. You are kind," Benjin said, patting him on the back.
Catrin wondered what Pelivor could possibly have for her. His smile was bold and impish as he moved to stand before her. "There are three gifts for you," he said then walked to the bookshelves, where he located the books Captain Trell had sent for her. The last item he held was a satchel that consisted of wax-coated layers of leather. He placed the books in the water-resistant case and handed them to Catrin. "The captain insists you take these. She only asks that you inform her of anything you learn of them. The last gift is from me," he said, and his face flushed. He hesitated for a moment but then seemed to realize this was his last opportunity. He put his arm around Catrin's waist, dipped her back, and kissed her firmly on the lips.
The others had to suppress their laughter and hooting for fear of making too much noise at such a crucial time, but the moment would never be forgotten. Catrin was befuddled by Pelivor's kiss, and she was speechless when he stood her back up. He ran his hand across her lower back as he released her, and she felt a chill run down her spine. Weak-kneed, she waited to see what would happen next.
Pelivor walked away without another word, opened the exterior hatch, and secured and unrolled the rope ladder. Catrin dreaded climbing out of the hatch backward, especially with her staff slung across her back, but she set her jaw and prepared herself. Pelivor helped her climb out into the darkness, and she groped in the air with her toes, trying to locate the next rung. It was a frightening climb, but she reached the boat that waited below. Her eyes were slow to adjust to the darkness, and she could not make out any details of the men in the boat. No one spoke a word.
Each of her companions made their stealthy descent, and Catrin was pleased to note that Chase had little trouble with his climb, though he was out of breath when he reached the boat. He had healed well, and now he could regain his stamina.
The sound of the oars stroking the water gave an e
erie quality to their mute departure, and it felt like a dream. Catrin gazed back at the Trader's Wind and would always recall the memories of their journey with fondness, but she feared what lay ahead. The path before her was perilous and filled with uncertainty. She tried to harden herself in preparation.
The Nightfist appeared, at first, as a shadowy silhouette that became more solid and distinguishable as they approached. It looked dark and oily, and it gave Catrin the shivers. The crew dropped a boarding net that Catrin and the others climbed easily. The rough and mean-looking men on deck were no friendlier than those in the boat. Most wore vicious sneers on their faces. Several of them eyed Catrin in a way that made her very uncomfortable, and she was relieved when a man stepped forward, grunted at them, and motioned for them to follow him. He led them to a room that resembled a cell more than it did a cabin.
Catrin entered the dark room with trepidation and was grateful when Benjin refused to allow the man to close the door behind him. They were left alone, cabin door slightly ajar. Two benches were the only items in the room, but she and the others made themselves as comfortable as they could. Chase, Strom, and Osbourne unrolled their bedrolls and rested on the floor. Benjin and Vertook sat, leaning against the walls, and Catrin reclined on one of the benches. Eventually Vertook moved to the other bench and slept.
"I don't trust these men," Benjin said. "I'll be much happier when we've parted company. I'll keep watch if you want to sleep."
Catrin tried to remain vigilant, but her eyes drooped with exhaustion as the subtle motions of the ship lulled her.
***
The ship's movements became abrupt, disrupting Catrin's sleep, and she nearly rolled off the bench as the ship executed a full turn. Benjin and the others felt it as well and were soon on their feet. Opening the door, which had slammed shut, Benjin peered into the darkness, and Catrin worked her way to his side, but all she saw were furtive shadows sliding in and out of the darkness. Whatever the crew was up to, they were doing it in utter silence.
Benjin tapped Catrin on the shoulder and pointed to the south. It took her a moment to spot the distant lights, but then she saw a great many as the ship crested a swell. Benjin closed the door and motioned for everyone to gather around.
"There are Zjhon ships to the south. I'm guessing the Nightfist will head to open water and try to skirt the patrols. Our current course argues against that logic, but I may be disoriented," he said, and they had to put their faith in the strange men who controlled their fate.
The hours passed in excruciatingly slow fashion; each moment seemed endless as they waited in silence. Catrin wanted to go out on deck to assess the situation, but the mercenaries had made it quite clear that she and her companions were not welcome there.
In the last hours before dawn, the man Catrin presumed was the captain entered the cabin and motioned for them to follow. When they reached the rails, a couple of the crewmen laughed, leering at Catrin, but she concentrated on their surroundings. A rocky shoreline, where waves pounded against jagged formations, was visible in the distance. She looked down, expecting to see a boat waiting below, but instead she saw only dark water lapping against the Nightfist. She screamed as hands grabbed her from behind, lifting her from the deck. They groped her everywhere at once, and she heard her companions shouting. Hands pulled at her staff, but it was held fast by the straps around it.
In a sudden panic, she tried to draw on her powers, but she was not quick enough. After a sudden thrust, she fell with a shrill scream, plunging into the water. Others hit the water as she regained the surface, and she wiped her eyes just in time to see Benjin land a solid blow on the captain's nose before he leaped over the railing.
Vertook was Catrin's first concern; he could not swim, and she feared he would panic. Her fears were confirmed by the loud splashing noises he made as he thrashed in the water. Hampered by the weight of the staff, she reached him shortly after Strom and Benjin did. Vertook landed several solid blows on his would-be rescuers before they could get him to stop flailing. Benjin assured him he would not let him drown, and Vertook went limp in his arms.
Chase swam ahead with an awkward stroke and looked for a safe place to gain the beach. Though he slipped several times on the algae-covered rocks, he found a relatively clear path. Vertook was overjoyed when they reached shallow water and he could feel the sand beneath his feet. Benjin appeared glad to have the large man supporting his own weight again. Slowly they made their way across the treacherous rocks.
When they reached the sand, Catrin sat down, trying to contain her anger. How dare those men just dump them in the water?
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I always feel refreshed after a good swim," Chase said in an effort to lighten the mood; Vertook threw sand at him.
Chapter 7
We appreciate most that which we have lived without.
- -The Pauper King
***
Shivering as the wind chilled her wet clothes, Catrin walked along the rocky beach in miserable silence, still stewing over the way the mercenaries had dumped them in the water-and not even at their desired destination. They'd given no explanation and had afforded them no indication of where they actually were.
"I believe we're in northern Endland. Perhaps a day or two walk from the Wastes," Benjin said. "We've little choice now but to brave the snows and make for Ohmahold. The lands to the south are too heavily populated for us to cross safely."
Ohmahold was by far the closest Cathuran stronghold if he were correct about their current location, and no one could argue his logic. They trudged along the coastline, covering as much distance as they could before sunrise, knowing they needed to be away from inhabited lands before the sun rose or they would almost certainly be discovered. Catrin had known the comforts of the Trader's Wind would soon be behind them, but she hadn't expected such an abrupt return to the world of cold and wet.
The sun rose on the weary group, and the mountains of the Northern Wastes loomed in the distance. The land became progressively steeper as the rolling hills grew in size.
"We'll need to turn inland eventually, but I think we should go as far north as we can first," Benjin said, but then he stopped as if just remembering something. He patted his belt and jacket then began to curse. "Boil me. What a fool I am. Now I understand what all the fuss was about when we were thrown overboard. It was a distraction. The coin Captain Trell gave us is gone-thieving sons of jackals. Now we have only the small amount I kept in a separate purse."
Catrin's opinion of the mercenaries sank even lower, and she vowed to inform Captain Trell of their treacherous actions.
In the midafternoon Chase spotted sails on the horizon. Fearing they had been seen, Benjin urged them into the hills, but the ship continued along its course. They skirted the hills for the rest of the day, walking until it grew dark, and they were exhausted by the time they finally struck camp. They ate some salted fish, decided who would take each watch, and those not on watch fell quickly to sleep.
Late in the night, Benjin walked to where Chase and Catrin slept. He woke them gently for their watch, but as he stood, he froze. "Be alert," he whispered. "I see a fire through the trees. I'm going to check it out. You two stay here. If anything goes wrong, wake the others."
"Take Chase with you," Catrin said.
"It'll be better if I go alone. I won't be long. Stay here," Benjin said, and he disappeared into the night. Catrin and Chase took up posts at either end of their camp, and Vertook stood watch with them, apparently awakened by his instincts.
"I sleep when Benjin returns," he said.
Catrin jumped when she heard a sharp snap in the woods, but nothing emerged from the darkness, and other noises followed, leaving the sentries on edge. When Benjin did return, he did so silently, which startled Catrin as much as the noises had. It wasn't that she was surprised by his stealth; it was just that seeing a figure suddenly materialize from the darkness could give one quite a start.
"There're two m
onks camped a few hills over, but they're in a drunken stupor, and I didn't want to frighten them. Better to approach them in the morning. Perhaps they can help us on our journey to Ohmahold," he said in a whisper then retired to his bedroll.
Vertook seemed satisfied and went to his bedding as well, leaving Catrin and Chase to keep watch. The rest of the night was uneventful, but they were vigilant nonetheless. Benjin rose before the false dawn and woke those who slept.
"During the night we discovered two monks camped nearby, and I'm going to go speak with them. Chase, come with me; the rest of you, stay here. Remember that we're in hostile territory; remain alert. I don't know if anyone else frequents this area, but we can't be too careful."
"Hurry back," Catrin said, the suspense gnawing at her. She had spent her entire watch wondering if the monks would be friendly. Her recent luck caused her to fear the worst possible outcomes, and she envisioned a thousand different ways things could go wrong. Strom and Vertook paced with her, expressing their own helplessness with muttered curses.
As the sun rose, its warmth raised a heavy mist from the ground, which concealed the irregularities of the land and made the act of pacing difficult. Catrin nearly lost her footing a number of times, but she couldn't seem to stand still. The mist had dissipated by the time Benjin and Chase returned; they looked relieved but not ecstatic.
"They're friendly," Benjin said. "Their names are Gustad and Milo. I'd never met either of them before, but we have a common acquaintance. Many years ago, while searching for Kenward, I met a Cathuran monk named Gwendolin. She was gathering and researching some rare herbs that grow only in remote parts of the Southland, and I shared her interest in herb lore. She helped me a great deal, and I shared some of my knowledge with her. Gustad said Gwendolin is at Ohmahold, which should help our cause. He was reluctant to discuss her, which I suppose is natural; the Cathurans are a secretive lot.
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