Wavebreaker

by A. J. Norfield

  Before Richard could react, Raylan spoke up.

  “Your offer is much appreciated, milord. However, I prefer to stay close to Galirras after such a weary journey, and make sure he has everything he needs while we rest up for our travels to Shid'el.”

  “I’m convinced that Galirras will be fine,” said Lord Algirio. “He will be under the protection of my city guards and will have servants to bring him anything he needs. I’m certain you understand that people will want to ask you lots of questions about your trip and what you saw—”

  “Few of which we’ll be able to answer until we’ve delivered the official report to Shid'el, Lord Algirio,” Richard interrupted politely.

  “Naturally, but I will not take no for an answer from Mister Stryk’ard. Nor you, Lieutenant Brand,” said Lord Algirio to Richard.

  Xi’Lao shifted closer to Raylan, putting her hand lightly on his shoulder. She kept her voice down while facing away from the others.

  “It is fine, Raylan. You go. I am not feeling too well, so I will stay with Galirras and keep him company. I will make sure nothing happens to him.”

  “Still not feeling well? Are you alright?” whispered Raylan.

  “It is fine. I just need some sleep,” said Xi’Lao.

  “You alright with that, Galirras?” asked Raylan privately in his head.

  “It is fine. We had a great hunt. I am so full I just want to sleep anyways. Just be careful,” answered the dragon.

  “I’ll ask Sebastian to come with us to the castle, and Richard will be there as well. Perhaps others, too. I’ll see if Galen wants to stay behind for extra security. He said he isn’t very fond of royalty anyway. Don’t get too comfortable with people you don’t know yet…and can you do me a favor? Keep an eye on Xi’Lao. I think she may be coming down with something.”

  “I thought you said she just needed to get the sea out of her legs?” said Galirras.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s more than that. We’ve not always had the best of meals. She’s might be coming down with something.”

  “So I can assume you will be joining us tonight, Mister Stryk’ard?” Lord Algirio interrupted the silent conversation.

  “I believe you can,” confirmed Raylan, sighing internally.

  “Wonderful! I will see you and Lieutenant Brand, together with any others willing to join us at the castle tonight. Please take the remainder of the afternoon to acquire a more appropriate outfit. I will send one of the servants to arrange everything for you downtown.”

  Raylan looked down at his clothes. What was wrong with them? But it was as if the presence of Lord Algirio’s clothes had suddenly made his own look worse for wear. The cloth shirt beneath his armor was dirty and torn in multiple places; his armor was scratched, smudged and missing a chunk here and there where it had saved his flesh from a sword. And now he thought of it, his fur coat had seen better days too.

  “Thank you for that gesture, Lord Algirio,” said Richard. “We look forward to attending tonight.”

  Satisfied with their visit, Lord Algirio turned to lead the council back to their coaches.

  “Come along now, people. Plenty more to do before the festivities,” said Lord Algirio, setting a firm pace for the others to keep up with.

  Raylan stood silently beside Richard as they watched the council party return to the city. When the coaches were gone, Richard again brought up the topic that had led to their heated discussion the night before.

  “Raylan, I want you to stay close to Sebastian tonight. Make sure he joins you at the festivities so we can keep an eye on him. He’s not allowed to talk about our mission, especially not the invasion,” said Richard. “Not to anyone.”

  Raylan’s face must have shown his disagreement; Richard’s own face settled in firm determination.

  “He’ll be your responsibility, understood? He needs to keep his mouth shut. Restrain him, if necessary,” said Richard clearly.

  Raylan felt his own discontent fester below the surface, but he did not trust his mouth to keep him out of trouble. He pressed his lips into a thin line. The lack of response did not go unnoticed.

  “That’s an order," Richard added stringently, after which he turned and walked off.

  Raylan held up his arms and tried not to move. A sharp needle slid dangerously close to his skin as the tailor took his measurements. His old clothes lay in a pile on the floor. As he looked at the scars on his arms and legs, Raylan saw they were healing nicely.

  Sebastian, who was standing to the side, had a grin on his face. The former slave already had his new outfit on. Dark green and bright orange colored him from head to toe in the form of wide sleeves and tight pants with leather boots. A white puffy collar was sticking out of the top of his shirt. He had shaved off his beard, revealing a strong jawline and wide mouth.

  “What are you grinning about?” asked Raylan.

  “I think you look more uncomfortable now than when you were wearing Doskovian armor and surrounded by hundreds of enemies,” laughed Sebastian.

  It was no lie. Raylan had watched in horror as every single person going to the festivities that night had been measured and dressed in the most hideous looking clothes he had ever seen. Everyone else had already left for the castle or city, and Raylan was the last in line to receive his new clothes. He was glad that his friend’s mood had improved somewhat, but would have been happier had it not been at his own expense.

  “Well, I don’t care what they say about latest nobleman fashion. I can’t imagine it’s comfortable to wear, and I wouldn’t want to be found dead in such a fabrication,” Raylan said grumpily. “It looks nothing like what the people are wearing in Shid'el. There even the noblemen tend to wear very practical clothes.”

  “Actually, it doesn’t feel that bad,” grinned Sebastian. “A bit breezy, perhaps.”

  A servant girl, who stood quietly in the corner of the shop, suppressed a chuckle.

  “Sally, was it?” said Sebastian to the girl.

  “Yes, milord,” said the girl, instantly turning red.

  “Oh no, I’m no lord! Just call me Seb. Sally, since when has this been the latest fashion in Azurna?”

  “For some time now, sir.”

  “Please, I know I look the part, but I am barely a sir. A few weeks ago, I was still living in trees trying to make sure we had enough to eat,” said Sebastian. He twirled around in his outfit, bowing formally to imitate the noblemen he remembered from his childhood years.

  The girl stifled another laugh.

  “Whose bright idea was it to introduce such fabulous clothes?”

  “My friend said a number of merchants from the southern cities visited the castle with strange clothes like this. She was serving drinks for Lord Algirio and his guests when she overheard our lord say how wonderful the colors looked and how he enjoyed this fresh, new look,” said the girl softly.

  “Please hold your breath, sir.”

  The tailor held his tapeline around Raylan’s chest.

  “Remind me again why we have to go?” said Raylan.

  “Because you do not turn down an invitation from one of the three noble houses in Aeterra. An insult now will cause trouble later, I’m sure of it,” said Sebastian in his Richard-imitating voice.

  “I suppose you’re right—or he’s right, I mean. It’s just that I’ve never felt comfortable at formal parties. I’d prefer to be outside the city, with Galirras,” Raylan said with a sigh.

  “Please hold still, sir,” came the comment from below.

  It was not just formal parties; tight, crowded streets always pressed down on his shoulders and chest as well. He wondered when he had first started feeling that way. He had disliked small spaces for as long as he could remember, but it had never caused any problems in his day-to-day life, not even when he was below decks on a ship.

  Raylan thought back to the moment under the deflated balloon in the Doskovian harbor, how suffocating it had felt as they were climbing aboard under the cover of the heavy fa
bric. His body had suddenly stopped, frozen, his head spinning and his lungs screaming for air. Someone from their group had reached out to him, snapping him out of it, but he could not remember who it had been.

  “I’m sure Galirras is fine. I believe Xi’Lao wanted to teach him some kind of game.”

  Sebastian looked back to the girl, still patiently waiting until they were done. She was not the definition of pretty, but she had a sweet face and deep, dark eyes.

  “So, Sally, has Lord Algirio always been so…curious about new things?” asked Sebastian.

  The girl looked around uncomfortably.

  “It’s alright. I won’t tell anyone. I just want to know what we’re getting ourselves into. Am I expected to come up with a dance routine?” joked Sebastian, jumping lightly in the air.

  This time the girl had to bite her lip so as not to laugh.

  “He’s known for collecting all kinds of novelties from all corners of the world,” she half-whispered. “They say people who bring him something new are generously rewarded. His main collection is focused on statues, many of them exquisite and one of a kind, but some of his other interests are said to be quite…strange. There’s a room filled with bones, apparently, and the girls in the castle even whisper of a room filled with objects, small and large, with very strange shapes. Milord gives very private parties there for his guests; not even the servants are allowed in when…”

  A look from the tailor made the girl swallow the rest of her story.

  “I—I’m awfully sorry, sir. I really should get back to attend to the preparations for the festivities. I leave you in capable hands,” she said quickly, then hurried out the door.

  The tailor shook his head and walked to his back room for a moment.

  “I wonder where that story would have ended up,” said Sebastian with a wink. “Lord Algirio seems like a man to keep your eye on. I for one am happy to get new clothes, even if they are a bit elaborate. I haven’t been able to really own anything for…I can’t remember how long. Most of the things in the village were shared with everyone, since we had little to work with—especially in the beginning.”

  Raylan was about to say something when the tailor returned, holding up his clothes. Fringes, loops and stripes danced in front of Raylan’s eyes.

  “No. There’s no way I’m wearing that. I want something simpler, more practical. Please,” pleaded Raylan.

  The tailor simply smiled and turned around. After a few moments spent in a cold sweat, Raylan let out a sigh of relief. In front of him the tailor held up a dark blue shirt, ornamented with fine yellow thread here and there. The pants were dark, sturdy fabric with leather patches on the inner thighs for horse riding. They looked wide enough to be comfortable, yet tailored enough to look formal. A sturdy sleeveless jacket and flexible leather boots finished the outfit.

  Raylan gladly put everything on. It was a near perfect fit.

  “Hold on—that was possible? We could have said no?” Sebastian started to protest, but the tailor was silently focused on fitting Raylan’s clothes and pretended not to hear him.

  “Sir, can I please change my order as well?” attempted Sebastian one last time.

  “No time, my good sir, I’m sorry.” The man finished the last adjustments of Raylan’s outfit. “I really need to get back to finalizing the rest of the clothes for my other customers.”

  One final thread was put in before the tailor stepped back.

  “You are all set, sir. Have a good day.”

  The man disappeared into the shop’s back room, instantly making lots of working noises to indicate he had no intention of coming out again any time soon.

  “What’s the matter, Seb? I thought you said you were happy with your new clothes?” countered Raylan as they waved their goodbyes to the shopkeeper and walked back out onto the street. “I’m sure you’ll be a hit with the ladies…and perhaps some of the men.”

  “I can’t wait…”

  Sebastian’s mood did not stay down for long.

  “It’s definitely not the worst I’ve worn in my life,” Sebastian concluded. This seemed to close the issue, and after a few streets he was busily talking again about the festival activities they saw, Kevhin and Rohan’s drinking plans and how nice it was to have some basic washing facilities back at the meadow, not to mention the bath house, which lay just a few streets from where they were based.

  “Why did you decide to shave your beard?” asked Raylan as they discussed the facilities.

  “I don’t know. It just felt…good. New beginnings, perhaps? I don’t have to hide my face anymore.”

  Raylan thought perhaps there was more to it, but decided not to push the issue. When they rounded the corner of the street, Sebastian grew quiet again. For some time, he was deep in thought. He looked around, often stopping momentarily before continuing on his way again.

  “What is it?” said Raylan after Sebastian looked behind them for the third time.

  His friend turned toward him, trying to decide what to do.

  “I know we’re supposed to attend a royal dinner, but do you think we could make a small detour?” said Sebastian.

  “I don’t care if we’re late, but Richard will probably tell us off. Why? What do you have in mind?”

  “I want to visit my old house,” Sebastian said quietly.

  Raylan looked at Sebastian, stumped. He blinked once, then twice.

  “Your house? You grew up here? In Azurna? Why didn’t you say something before? Like this morning, when we set foot on solid ground? Or even before, during the weeks on the airship?”

  “Because—because—I don’t know. So many things! I don’t know how much has changed. I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to go to the house. Everything feels so familiar, but it’s all different. It’s been ten years, Raylan. Ten years! My mother, my family, the house—they might not even be there anymore.”

  Raylan was speechless. Come to think of it, he had never thought to ask where Sebastian was from. He felt like an idiot. He had assumed it was one of the harbor cities on Aeterra, but he never actually asked, nor had Sebastian mentioned it himself. Then a thought floated to the surface of his mind.

  “Wait. The argument yesterday with Richard. No wonder you were so angry about not telling people here about the invasion! It’s your home. And your family might still be here.”

  Sebastian stood still.

  “I wanted to go first thing this morning, but we weren’t allowed to leave the meadow. And then I started thinking about how long I’ve been away. How different I must look. How much must have happened here. I barely recognize the city streets. And then to bring such unbelievable tales about a dangerous invasion…”

  The waterfall of words made Raylan take a step back and regain his composure. It was clear his friend was nervous being so close to his old home, a place he had not expected to see again in this lifetime.

  “Seb, it’s alright. I understand. Let’s go. To your house, I mean. I’m sure your mother will be beyond words to see her son again.”

  “If she recognizes me at all,” said Sebastian with a nervous laugh.

  “I don’t think a mother will ever forget her child. And the news of the invasion—let’s wait till after tonight’s festivities. I’ve asked Galirras to take to the air a few times tonight and fly along the coast. If he spots anything from the Doskovian army, he’ll come straight to the castle and let us know.”

  That seemed to calm Sebastian somewhat.

  “What about Richard?”

  “Well, he did tell me to keep a close eye on you. If you insist we go to find your house, there’s nothing much I can do except follow,” said Raylan, giving his friend a firm slap on the shoulder. Sebastian flinched at the pain in his healing wound.

  “Sorry! I’d forgotten about that,” Raylan exclaimed before making a polite bow and adding, “Shall we, good sir?”

  The former slave shook his head, a smile creeping onto his face. Now that the cat was out of the bag, Sebas
tian was quick to follow up on his choice to visit his parents' house. In fact, he seemed in such a hurry to get there, it was like every moment that passed had the potential to be the difference between failure and success.

  With long strides, Sebastian navigated the streets with Raylan in tow. They sped through alleys, then crossed a large street busy with carts and market stalls selling everything from baskets to jewelry. But Sebastian did not stop to look at any of the activities. He dove into another small alley at the other end, one that twisted and turned. Twice, the escaped slave held still before turning back to go the other way, but after passing what felt like half the city, Sebastian suddenly slowed and then halted in front of a large house.

  The house stood two stories tall, lying directly on one of the main streets. The brown wooden beam structure was a strong contrast to its white plastered walls. Large windows and a double door dominated the front view of the house. Sebastian looked at it.

  “They have painted it,” said Sebastian hesitantly. “I’m not so sure I want to do this.”

  “The house looks very nice,” said Raylan, trying to take Sebastian’s mind off his nervousness. “Your father must have been a great merchant.”

  “My father loved taking risks. He was quite good at it. Big risks meant big rewards, if you succeeded. But it also meant that there were times we had almost nothing to eat for weeks, as all our money was in some cargo being hauled off to some distant city we had never seen. But the house…the house always looked fabulous. We always had to keep up the pretense that everything was going great, even when it wasn't, or else the customers would lose their confidence in him as a successful trader.”

  “Did he work from home often?”

  “When he was in the city he did. He had a small office here, at the front of the house,” said Sebastian, pointing to the lower windows. “But more often he was out at sea for months on end. Sailing for the southern cities, bringing back tales of exotic food, performers who spit fire and swallowed swords. My mother was the one who was there for us.”