The Pearl Diver

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “My lord?” Dianu called, then bounded out of the room where Silas had lain, and ran to her husband, still holding the mirror. “This is the most marvelous thing, dear! Look at this!

  “Silas, go back in the dressing room,” she spoke, unconscious of any inappropriate appearance that Silas and she might have created in their flittering about the rooms of the home. “Now watch this,” she told her husband as she held up the piece of the shattered mirror that had traveled so far in Silas’s pack.

  “Is that your dressing room right there?” he asked as he looked in the mirror, and watched Silas appear a moment later. “Where did this glass come from?”

  “Has he been watching you?” the Healer asked moments later.

  Sometime later, after the three of them sat in Silas’s recuperation room, after food was delivered, after a full explanation was given to the Healer, Dianu explained her simple means of handling the odd nature of her mirror.

  “I just have to hang something over the corner,” she explained. “Silas showed me another mirror that is part way blocked by a drape over it.”

  And with the confrontation over the magical mirror defused, Silas was able to spend another day in the Lord Healer’s home recuperating from his illness on the road. And as he recuperated, he grew fretful about his need to make up for lost time, to return to his journey to Amenozume, so that he could help Mata escape from her imprisonment.

  Chapter 3

  Grecco came to see Silas that afternoon.

  “I heard that our wandering outlaw Speaker was among the Healers’ halls,” he said jovially as he sat in the room with Silas, as Dianu withdrew.

  “What brings you back, and where is the rest of your caravan?” Grecco asked.

  “I’m going back to Amenozume,” Silas replied. “I left the caravan. They’re still some place out east, heading to Faralag.”

  There was silence, as Grecco waited to see if Silas would reveal more information.

  “My friend in Amenozume is in trouble, and I want to help,” the boy found the silence uncomfortable, and spoke up.

  “So this isn’t about your infamous efforts to prevent Ivaric’s impending invasion?” Grecco asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Not directly,” Silas realized he was already telling more than he had expected to, and so he plunged ahead, revealing once again the theory that the pearl traders were seeking to establish a beachhead for Ivaric on the island.

  He and Grecco spoke for several minutes about Silas’s plans.

  “I need to go to the docks to find out when the ferry will be ready for its next trip to Amenozume,” he explained. “I’ll go tomorrow when I feel better. I hope it’ll be here soon.”

  “You don’t have to wait for the ferry,” Grecco pointed out. “There are plenty of ships that sail to Amenozume every day. Just watch the tides and you’ll see them depart from the harbor.”

  Silas shook his head in dismay at his own failure to realize the simple fact.

  The next day, he departed from the Healers Guild campus after thanking Dianu for her kindness. He was wearing new, clean clothes the Healers had provided, replacing the stained and worn outfit he had worn for so long with the caravan.

  “So now we’re even; you saved me when you prevented that mirror from crushing us, and I returned the favor,” she smiled, then hugged him.

  “I’ll take that fabric off my mirror from time to time; talk to me and tell me how you’re doing helping your pretty friend,” she smiled again.

  “Be sure to have a writing pad and stylus next to the mirror; I will talk to you, I promise,” Silas gladly agreed, and then he was on his way.

  He wandered through the city, enchanted once more by the vitality and bustle of the great metropolis that was so different from the village where he had been born and raised. When he reached the docks, he found the office that registered the arrivals and departures of ships, and their needs for crew members. He was soon contracted to be a deck hand on a sailing ship ready for departure on the noon tides, and he went to his appointed location to meet the ship’s officers, chit in hand.

  “Those eyes don’t mean you’re jinxed, do they?” the second mate of a large freighter asked when Silas stepped on the deck.

  “No, nothing like that,” Silas replied, before he was shuffled below deck and given a locker to store his belongings.

  Within the hour, he was on the deck of a sailing freighter, the Harrison, and pulling on cables as directed with shouts, oaths, and curses. The ship moved away from the dock and slowly left behind the land as it became a part of the ocean, and followed the currents and the winds. But Silas was too busy running and pulling, grunting and sweating, to even take time to look at the receding shoreline.

  After an hour of heavy labor, Silas was sweating profusely. He paused for a moment, and pulled his shirt off, the nice, clean, new shirt that Dianu had provided for him – the shirt that had become dark and stained and damp after his exertions. He threw the shirt into a corner of the deck, out of the way, then resumed his duty until the officers were satisfied that the ship was arranged in a suitable fashion for the moment, and there was briefly no more work for the crew to do.

  “Look at the fancy new guy,” a man with a long, braided pony tail was suddenly next to Silas, calling attention to him. “Look at the colors. He’ll make the peacocks jealous when he goes south to Faralag, won’t he?” the man laughed at his humor and at Silas’s discomfort, as other crew men passed by and commented.

  They were called back to work then. Silas climbed awkwardly up the mast of the ship and helped pull on the ropes to adjust the sails as ordered by the officers. And that was how the next few days were mostly spent.

  Silas found himself alternately comfortable and terrified during the shifts he was told to work up in the sails, up the masts, where he was above the deck and above the surrounding waters of the ocean. He kept his balance at times and he wobbled at times, but he managed not to fall, and he managed to work hard enough that the other members of the crew respected him for the effort he gave.

  And the crew members respected him for his ability to credibly hold his own against the officers, when he became a sparring partner of theirs during fencing practice. They used practice swords much more refined that the sticks Ruten had made him rely upon, heavier and better balanced. Silas had found the new weapons to be a revelation, and he’d learned to improve his sword work with them. He’d matched or beaten many of the officers, and the crew liked that – they considered him their own champion, and respected him further.

  But the crew of the Harrison did not respect him for the amount of time he spent looking in his mirror.

  There was little in the way of privacy aboard the ship, not for the members of the crew. They slept together in hammocks slung in a common room, and they ate together, as well as worked together in the small space of the ship. Silas tried to look in his mirror to see Jade, to tell her he was aboard a ship, but he had no luck in having a private moment to open his pack and pull out his mirror. He was seen, and the stories about his vanity were widespread.

  He was called Beautiful for the last three days of the journey.

  “Beautiful, go up the fore mast! Beautiful, haul the cables! Beautiful, wind the winch!” the orders were so universal that he didn’t really mind or care. He just wanted to get to the island of Amenozume and begin his desperate mission.

  Chapter 4

  Silas’s ship glided into the harbor at Amenozume near sunset, and had to anchor outside the harbor for the evening.

  “We have to wait for the tide to go out after midnight. That’s when the ships in the docks will all depart, and we can move into an empty berth for ourselves,” one of his companions explained to the impatient Silas, who simply wanted to get on shore and begin his rescue mission.

  And in the morning, just as the eastern horizon began to show the first light from sunrise, the crew was rousted out of their hammocks, and sent to the deck to maneuver the ship into the docks o
f the city, into a slip that had been vacated the night before.

  Silas watched and worked and recollected his experience with the previous docking he’d had in the city harbor, when the ferry from Avaleen had crashed into a stone pier and suffered damage. Silas himself had suffered damage – cracked ribs that had hurt like the dickens.

  The Harrison sailed smoothly into the dock in the industrial end of the waterfront, and was smoothly tied off. Stevedores began ganging on the dock in anticipation of being selected to do work, while one of the officers left the ship to inform their contracted trading warehouse that the goods had arrived.

  Silas grabbed his backpack and stood on deck, watching the activity unfold.

  “You’re leaving us here?” one of the officers asked. “You were a good greenhorn; we’re all glad we had you along. You ought to think about staying with us; a few more trips and you’ll be well-enough trained to work any job on any ship you want. You’ll be able to sail anywhere, anytime, on any ship you want.”

  “I really need to see someone here in Amenozume,” Silas shook his head politely.

  “There are girls in every port; and with those pretty eyes of yours, you’ll have ‘em all!” the officer explained in a kindly manner. “Ask Reynolds,” he nodded to an older member of the crew who stood nearby. “He’s got three families in three different ports, don’t you Rey?”

  The older man grinned and nodded proudly, while Silas looked at him in disbelief.

  “I don’t need that,” he replied. “I just need to help my friend,” he explained, as he remembered that once he got off the ship, he’d be able to use his Speaker voice to call upon Jade directly, and then see her in the mirror to communicate more about Mata’s location and how to rescue her.

  He unconsciously patted his pack, and as he did he heard the muffled sound of a waxed paper wrapper crinkling. It was a reminder of the messages Prima had given him, messages that he had promised to deliver. One of the messages was supposed to be sent to a trader in Amenozume.

  Silas pulled the note out of his pack, then opened the wrapper to look at the name and address written on the sealed inner envelope. It was addressed to Hamilton and named him as a trader in the Blue Exchange Warehouse.

  “Do you know where the Blue Exchange House is?” Silas asked the ship’s officer, who still stood nearby.

  “It’s the third building down to the right. Inside, the main meeting room is painted blue,” the man explained. “That’s where its name comes from.

  “You wait here a little longer; once the captain goes and collects his payment from the factor at the warehouse, he’ll pay wages to the sailors before shore leave, and you can get your share then,” he added, then turned and shouted an order to someone elsewhere on deck, and walked away.

  He would need the money from the wages sooner or later, Silas was sure. He had spent little of the money he’d been so generously given by Prima, but it was all he had, and he had no idea of what the future would bring once Mata was set free. She wasn’t likely to have much money as a pearl diver, so Silas would have to provide for them both.

  “I’ll wait,” he replied as the officer walked away. Silas turned slightly so that he faced in the direction of the royal palace. Then he paused to consider.

  He could send a message to Jade now, letting her know that he had arrived, and would soon be ready to talk with her about Mata.

  “Jade, this is Silas. Silas is talking to Jade. Jade, I’m in the harbor of Amenozume now. I am on a ship, and will be off the ship in a few hours. Jade, be ready to hear me call again soon, when I’ll be ready to speak to you on the mirror,” Silas delivered the message he hoped would give the girl a pleasant surprise, and prepare her to trade messages with him.

  Satisfied that the message was delivered, he relaxed and stood leaning on the railing, watching the world on the dock continue through its everyday paces. Shipments traveled to-and-from other ships. The milling men who sought work as stevedores for the Harrison remained nearby, and a smaller group of women interested in the sailors and the salaries of the Harrison began to gather as well.

  The captain departed in a short while, then returned after a necessary interval. His return to the ship agitated the crowds on the dock and on the deck, as all parties realized that the freight would soon be unloaded and the sailors would soon be released from the ship. Silas watched the crowds on the dock move in closer and show more restless energy, while the sailors on the ship grew more boisterous and dressed themselves more colorfully as they prepared for shore leave.

  “Silas,” the captain called his name several minutes later, as all the crew members were called one-by-one to be paid their wages. Silas received his coins, and said thank you. He waited until the last crewman was paid, and then joined them all in cheerfully bidding good bye to one another as they left the ship and walked freely on the dock.

  Silas worked his way past several of the working women of the docks who were aggressively interested in him and his pay money. He found his way off the dock, and to the solid land of the harbor front, where he wandered to his left, to the third building down the way, the third of the large stone buildings that watched and contained so much of the commerce that traveled into the country through the shipping lanes that ended in the harbor.

  The third building did have a blue lobby area at the street level, a lobby with a number of doors leading to offices of trading firms surrounding the dingy blue space. Silas began entering the offices, asking for a trader named Hamilton.

  “He’s three doors to the right,” a gruff man answered in the first place Silas tried. “But I can get you better rates than he can. What are you trying to buy? And what happened to your eyes?”

  Silas shook his head and walked down to the correct door, where a man with the most mild of appearances was sitting quietly behind a desk, reading ledger books by the light of a smoky lamp.

  “Are you Hamilton?” Silas asked.

  “I am. And who are you?” his host replied.

  Silas still had the message from Prima stowed in his pack, out of sight.

  “A caravan leader from the mainland sent me to see you. Do you know who it is?” Silas took the precaution of asking.

  “I saw one named Prima a few weeks ago when he was here on the island. He bartered over a few goods. Is there something else he wants me to transport to the mainland for him?” Hamilton asked.

  The man seemed to be the proper man to receive the message, Silas decided.

  “He asked me to deliver a message, since I was coming to Amenozume anyway,” Silas explained. He reached into his pack and pulled the thick envelope free, then walked to the desk and handed it over.

  “That’s my duty done,” Silas said when the parcel was in Hamilton’s hands. He had accomplished his duty, and was ready to begin a conversation with Jade.

  “Hold a moment,” Hamilton spoke, a peculiar expression on his face. “A written message from Prima is out of the ordinary.” He pulled a knife from a desk drawer and sliced the seal on the packet, then pulled out a pair of folded pages of paper, and began to read. After just a few moments, he looked up, directly at Silas’s face, and studied it intently for a moment, then returned to reading the missive.

  “You’re mentioned in here,” Hamilton said, without looking up further. “The boy with the golden purple eyes,” he quoted.

  “Do you have a place to stay while you’re here on the island?” the reader asked.

  “I just arrived. I haven’t looked for a place yet,” Silas replied.

  “Since Prima speaks well of you, I can let you use an empty room I have here in the warehouse. There are a few steps to climb, and it’s not luxurious, but its free and available and dry,” Hamilton offered.

  “I’ll take it,” Silas immediately accepted the offer. It was another way to address his concern over funds. “Can we take a look at it? Show me where it is?” he asked.

  Hamilton held up a finger as he continued to read the letter from Prima. He flip
ped it over and read a closing on the back side, then sat back, closed his eyes, and was silent for a moment. “That man can be a challenge,” he spoke to himself in a soft voice.

  “Let me lock up,” Hamilton closed his ledger book with a marker in place where he had stopped his study, then he placed several papers in a drawer, stood, and darkened his lamp.

  “Let’s go,” he said as he led the way back to the door and out into the lobby.

  Silas watched as Hamilton locked the door, then walked through the lobby to the side that extended into the interior of the large warehouse around the lobby. The leader opened an unobtrusive door that revealed a dim stairwell.

  “Up here,” Hamilton grunted the words more than spoke them, and began to lead the way up.

  On the second floor landing they took a doorway out.

  “That’s not so bad a climb,” Silas said brightly.

  Hamilton gave him a sympathetic glance.

  “We’re going to the other staircase now,” he gestured as he walked along a hall that ran the length of the massive building, opened a door, and began to climb up the stairwell.

  “This room I’m taking you to has access to this stairwell and it will have a window too,” Hamilton said. “It’s good in that sense; the window ledge is wide enough to walk along. If you ever need to,” he seemed to anticipate that Silas might have a reason to leave the room via the window.

  They climbed up to the fifth floor.

  “There isn’t a lot of other traffic that comes up here. Not many people want to store goods on the fifth floor,” he stated the obvious, between breaths.

  “And here’s the room,” he announced after they walked a few steps along a hall. The hall had no windows, but each door to a room had a transom window above the door, and indirect light shone through the transoms in a just sufficient degree to let them see their way to the unnumbered door that Hamilton stood by as he fumbled with his keys to open the way.

  Inside, Silas found a bed, a table and two chairs, a dresser, a bed pan, and an empty pitcher with a pair of dry glasses. Candles, a lantern, and a flint sat next to the pitcher.