Kuiran and Raleen were staying on with Jalwynd and sailing to the Island of Wyalonia where they intended to live for a while. Kuiran’s real parents were there and Raleen had an opportunity to fulfil her ambition to be a Trader. She was good at buying and selling and enjoyed the challenge of it. Along with Marina, Kuiran’s real mother, she would ensure Jalwynd was filled to bursting with Trade goods before the ship’s return to Belvedere.
Cristal felt lost watching all the activity as people bustled around her in the mansion. She went from one to the other with small snippets of advice and little things for them they may have forgotten, like needle and thread or tweezers. Even her beau, Belmar, the Captain of Jalwynd, was busy making last minute preparations for sailing the next day. It was a fact of life she would have to accept Cristal told herself. It wasn’t as if all this was something new. For the last two years or more, Arwhon and his Shield, Servant and Arm had been coming and going as they fought the evil of the Q’Herindam, this was just another trip. At least Arwhon had the full use of his Firemagic now and was a competent Mage.
That evening there was a special dinner for everyone and with all the packing finished, they relaxed and had an enjoyable time together. Cristal wasn’t as upset as she thought she’d be. Captain Belmar would be returning to her within a few months with a ship full of Trade goods, so she used the occasion to announce her betrothal to the good captain. Even this late in life the pair had decided there was enough between them to make something permanent of it. The news was greeted with much enthusiasm and Belmar shrank into his seat in embarrassment. It amused Arwhon that a man who could captain a ship through fierce storms, lashed to the wheel housing while waves washed over the deck of his ship, became so awkward in social situations. It didn’t matter, they were good for each other and Arwhon knew Cristal was looking forward to one day accompanying the little Captain on some of his voyages aboard Jalwynd. The ship already approved of her and was not jealous at all. Belmar felt it with his special knack.
The next morning was very interesting for Arwhon and his companions. They had to load the horses into Jalwynd. This involved leading them up on deck and then watching as they were lowered into the hold on slings. Duran and Rancid were fine with the process, as they were reassured by Arwhon and Shiri through their bond. Vixen played up somewhat but having seen Duran and Rancid lowered into the hold, she eventually allowed herself to be placed down there too. Krissi walked aboard and immediately went to stand in the bows where she looked just like a figurehead. It became her favourite spot for the remainder of the time they were on board.
After the horses came their packs and saddles which were also stored in the hold. Their personal items and weapons and armour were shoehorned into the tiny cabin they were given. Kieran was too big to get below decks down the companionways so he stored his staff and belongings where he bedded down in his usual spot in the hold.
Suddenly it was lunch time but every one was too excited to eat so as Cristal stood on the dock waving, Captain Belmar gave the order to cast off and Kuiran surreptitiously used his Watermagic to slowly move Jalwynd into the current from the Wandering River. Here, he was able to increase the speed of the ship without drawing attention to his use of magic and took Jalwynd out through the harbour entrance. Belmar ordered sails raised and Cringle took over, increasing the slight breeze enough to push the ship along. Arwhon stood on the poop deck with Shiri and Raleen, waving farewell to Cristal until the venerable old lady was out of sight. Arwhon was sure he saw her dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief as she turned away.
With a Water Mage and a Wind Mage on board, Jalwynd didn’t have to work hard to skim along over the waves. Belmar privately wished the two of them could be on board all the time, as the duration of his trips would be seriously reduced. The weather held fine and day after day the two mages assisted Jalwynd to slip easily through the water. Although Arwhon was a fisherman’s son and had helped with the nets on many occasions, he’d never been on a ship this size before and with Shiri, who was also new to this form of travel, they stood on the forecastle beside Krissi as Jalwynd sped over the waves of the Turquoise Sea. On the fourth day of the voyage they spied a Draakon Reaver ship, the red sail and black hull ahead of them to starboard. The Reaver ship immediately came about and its oars swiftly appeared to propel the sleek boat toward them as the red sail was dropped but Jalwynd was sailing under Mage power and as her crew waived gaily, she shot past the Reaver vessel and sped onward. It took less than a week before they were slowly sailing up a mighty fiord toward Sheskan, the main seaport of Southern Cheshwon. Arwhon’s gaze travelled back and forth from the distant walls of the fiord before he remarked to Shiri.
“It’s somewhat like the Rift. A giant crack in the world. I had a look on Belmar’s charts. This one is known as Namse. There’s another one further north known as Bukse. I wonder how they were formed?”
“Maybe it was made at the same time as the Rift through the original Darkwood. We’ll have to see if there any legends about it.”
Cringle said nothing, he was already feeling goosebumps. Here was the start of the hunt for his mother, someone he had never seen. Was she still alive?
He hoped so.
Sheskan amazed them all, even Captain Belmar who had never been here before but he’d heard about the port from others. Belvedere harbour on its busiest day came nowhere near the hectic bustle of this place. Everywhere, dark complexioned Cheshwon porters were carrying huge loads on their backs or wheeling them on rickety little handcarts as ships of all sizes were loaded and unloaded. Jalwynd was a stranger in this port and her design differed markedly from the Cheshwon ships moored there. She stood out, her rounded, sleeker lines far more graceful than the high-sided, lumbering cargo vessels moored everywhere else.
Captain Belmar hove to in the harbour, hopefully out of the way of shipping and dropped anchor. They would’ve been noticed by now and any good sailor knew you didn’t just sail in and tie up to a vacant dock, berths were allocated. It didn’t take long before a small boat rowed out to meet them. Even that was different, with the oarsman standing in the rear sculling with a long single oar. Strange as it appeared the method of propulsion worked well. The boat pulled up alongside and an officious looking personage, in what appeared to be some form of uniform, clambered aboard and stood pompously by the railing looking interestedly about. He saw Krissi standing on the foredeck and suddenly realised she was real, not a carving. His demeanour changed instantly. Captain Belmar stepped forward in his ornate frock coat and the Cheshwon official executed a short bow which Belmar returned.
“I Weng. What you do here?” the official asked the captain in broken Common speech.
“I’m Belmar, Captain of this ship. I wish to leave three people and their horses so they can travel to Mandoran, your capital. One is a person from Cheshwon who seeks his mother.”
Weng turned to Krissi and pointed.
“What about that?”
“Her owner is one of the people who wish to go ashore. She will go too.”
Weng looked alarmed as he digested this piece of information.
“Very much danger with, how you say? Gryffon?”
“Not this one Sir, she has been reared from a hatchling and is tame.”
Arwhon was following the conversation and decided to intervene. He stepped forward near the official and bowed slightly as he mentally summoned Krissi. The now fully grown gryffon, the size of a small horse, paced across the deck to sit calmly beside Arwhon, causing Weng to take a step back in alarm. Arwhon addressed him.
“You may touch her,” he told the official.
Trying to appear calm, Weng stood motionless as he considered his options. Not to touch the gryffon would make him appear fearful and he’d lose face. Touching it could be fatal. He made a decision and stepping forward slowly, he gingerly raised his hand and stroked the feathers of Krissi’s neck. Krissi lowered her head and Arwhon showed Weng the special spot behind Krissi’s ears which she loved to
have rubbed. Weng’s narrow slit eyes in his broad dark face widened with his amazed expression. Krissi had that effect on most people. Meeting a legend was a life event. Weng stepped back and pointed to a small wharf on the far side of the harbour away from the main cargo area.
“You tie up there. Cost three gold each day ship there. Pay one gold each for pass to come ashore. That six gold. You pay me now.”
Arwhon took out his purse, he had plenty of money, Cristal wouldn’t let him leave without a hefty purse. He turned away and counted out six golds, replaced his purse and turned back to hand them to Weng who made them disappear into his robe before stepping to the railing to climb down into his waiting dinghy. He paused.
“I send boat to tow you to wharf.”
Belmar smiled as he replied.
“No need, we can take ourselves there.”
Looking puzzled and shaking his head, Weng went over the side and was rowed back to shore. Kuiran went to the Jalwynd’s bow and took command of the water in front of her. Within a few minutes, he’d manoeuvred Jalwynd to her berth and she was tied up snug against it.
As time was slipping away, Arwhon and Shiri, accompanied by Cringle, went to look for Weng’s office. Krissi was instructed to remain aboard Jalwynd in case there were any problems ashore. Asking directions was not so simple when you didn’t speak the language and your eyes had no whites so Arwhon and Shiri left the asking to Cringle, who soon became accustomed to giving slight bows when he talked to someone. The Cheshwon person they addressed usually looked nervously at Arwhon before rattling off a string of words at Cringle, expecting him to understand but Cringle’s blank looks soon disabused them of that notion. By dint of indicating Jalwynd and saying ‘Weng’ they eventually came to a well appointed building and entered to look for Weng’s office. It was not hard to find, as people were coming and going with regularity, those leaving clutching little ribbon-wrapped parchment scrolls. Weng greeted them as they were shown into his office and he pointed at a row of seats. They sat and when asked, gave their names one by one which he wrote down on pre-printed forms before taking a stamp and applying his chop in red ink. He then wrapped each form in a ribbon and handed them over.
“This is pass. Must keep on person at all time or will be much trouble. Luck be with you.”
Weng bowed and they returned the bow before leaving the office. Outside there was generalised hubbub and commotion, although on close inspection it was quite orderly, so the three of them took the opportunity to wander around, taking in all the strangeness. It was nearly dark when they eventually returned to Jalwynd.
Next morning, early, Kuiran and Raleen went ashore to have a look around. Kuiran took his staff as always, although there was probably no need to do so as he towered over the smaller Cheshwon people. They wandered around the port area for a while looking at market stalls with trade goods on display and also food stalls. Being a while since their early breakfast, they tried some local foods, finding them quite tasty but somewhat spicy. Then it was back to Jalwynd to help unload the horses. Kuiran’s strength was a great help during that process and made the job of lifting Duran from the hold a lot easier than it could have been. Soon the three horses were saddled and ready. Goodbyes were said and hands clasped before the three who were staying in Cheshwon walked their horses carefully down the gangplank. Soon they were threading their way through the busy port area. A pathway appeared in front of them as if by magic. Word of Krissi spread like wildfire across the port and although she followed along sedately behind Duran, still the crowds parted and stood silently as a legend walked amongst them. Out of the dock area, the three travellers had a chance to look at the buildings surrounding the seaport. There was some similarity with the building style of Tarkent and it was all easy on the eye.
Negotiating Sheskan was not easy as everywhere they went looked similar to where they had just come from and they nearly became lost a number of times before Cringle found that by making eye contact with a passerby and saying ‘Mandoran’, they were pointed in what they hoped was the right direction. Soon, by dint of observation, they became familiar with the signs for eateries and inns, as the latter had horses tied up out front. Sheskan soon fell away behind them as they rode up into the hills following a wide road and once, when they stopped at a lookout point and gazed back, they could just make out Jalwynd as she sailed off into the distance. They were totally on their own now in a strange country.
Around dusk they came across a busy inn with a stable and Shiri applied a glamour to make them seem less exotic before they went in and took a couple of rooms for the night. Krissi went off to hunt before dark and stooped on a small deer, her first fresh meat since they’d left Belvedere. She roosted in a large tree within sight of the inn, her link to Arwhon a comfort to them both.
The innkeeper had shown them a map before they left the inn which gave the travellers an idea of how far it was to the capital. In actuality, only another day’s travel now. The road they were on was broad and paved, well maintained and carried a lot of traffic. Wagons were frequent, taking goods to and from the markets of Mandoran. The travellers drew interested looks as people passed them but no one stared. Politeness seemed to be a way of life for those of Cheshwon. Krissi was soaring, enjoying her freedom and occasionally Arwhon would look through her eyes at the countryside below. Shiri had donned her green armour once again and Arwhon had decided to wear his mail and sword. They both carried their helms strapped to the saddles as Shiri had once again glamoured herself and Arwhon. Cringle was innocuous as usual under his Darkwood cloak, discrete to the point of almost being invisible. After his training by Merdon, it had become second nature for Cringle to blend in to whatever environment he found himself in. Looking like a local made it all that much easier for him too.
They first saw the city from afar and marvelled at its size and regularity. The style of building was like that of Kyto in Tarkent, important buildings being constructed of stone with terracotta roof tiles while the inhabitants mostly lived in wooden buildings with tiled roofs. The whole city was bounded by a high wall interspersed with gates at each cardinal point of the compass, a major road running through each one. A few squalid huts and settlements were built up against the wall to take advantage of the protection it offered but they were few. Everything was going well until they arrived at the gates of Mandoran.
Soldiers carrying spears stepped forward and stopped them, giving commands in the language of Cheshwon. Already both Arwhon and Cringle were starting to get a feel for the language but not enough yet to understand what was being said. They each produced their passes which the soldiers took and inspected. Still their way was barred and Arwhon was beginning to feel disturbed, he hadn’t expected any trouble but they were in a strange land. What to do? He didn’t want to create an incident. Cringle was thinking hard. There was a lack of understanding between all of them. Maybe if he showed the guards his mother’s fan, they might be more inclined to help. He leaned back and removed it from the saddlebag, still well wrapped because of the sharp steel of its construction. He unwrapped it and holding the fan carefully, opened it out and displayed it to the guards.
There was an immediate silence and every one of the guards touched his right fist to the left side of his chest and bowed his head submissively. Cringle was stunned. What did it mean? The guard captain looked up from his lowered gaze and quickly collected their passes and tied them up neatly before handing them back, bowing as he did so. He kept his head down and avoided looking at them directly as he pointed ahead down the wide thoroughfare and repeated.
“Kenjida, Kenjida.”
They had no idea what the guard captain meant but it looked like they were free to go. As Cringle wrapped the fan up in its covering, the guardsmen’s resolve was finally broken when, with a great backwashing of wings, Krissi alighted behind the three riders. The guard scattered, most running into the protection of their guardhouse in the base of the gate building. The three travellers wheeled their horses around and
rode on into Mandoran.
It was late. Too late to try for an audience with the King or whoever was in charge of the city, so it was decided to find an inn with a stable. They turned off the wide thoroughfare into a smaller cross street, following other riders and soon came across one. It was a clean little establishment with a bathhouse out the back and plenty of hot water, quite reasonably priced too. There was room in the stable for Krissi to sleep on straw in her own stall and a stableman to keep out unwanted sightseers. Soon they had bathed and eaten well, gold being a universal currency. While they sat at a table in the barroom, being observed surreptitiously by all the patrons, Arwhon was building his understanding of the language. There were similarities with Common but also huge differences. Intonation and pronunciation were the key factors in speech here. He looked over at Cringle and saw his lips moving as he watched a conversation. Touched by the magic of Vehrin’del, Queen of the Darkwood, Cringle had an amazing capacity for learning, even greater than his own. By the time they eventually turned in they were all ready for their beds.
Next morning the three travellers came down from their rooms together, carrying their saddlebags and ready for breakfast. They entered the dining area to find armoured soldiers waiting for them. There were more soldiers outside, carrying pikes and looking like they meant business. One, in more ornate armour than the others, stepped forward and addressed them in the local language. Much to their surprise, Cringle answered haltingly.
“He says we are to come with them. They have heard of the fan and the gryffon. We are to have an audience with the king, Kenjida. I told him we were going to have breakfast first.”
Arwhon looked a little alarmed.
“We don’t want to start trouble Cringle, shouldn’t we just go?”
Were of the Drakon Page 16