Rolo kicked down the barricade they had made in the doorway of the shack and Konrad stepped into a world of calm silence. Last to emerge was Spirit who seemed refreshed and immediately at home in the snow. Her white grey coat was the perfect camouflage, and even without any shadows she was soon little more than a ghost in the cold landscape.

“It’s about a half a days walk along the coast to the Last Harbour,” Rolo said, gazing down at the rocky shoreline. His deep voice seemed to carry impossibly far in the silence of the morning.

“What’ll we find when we get there?”

“The ocean won’t freeze for weeks, so if we’re lucky we'll find a boat to take us north.”

Konrad surveyed the expanse of the ocean in front of him. It was said in stories that when the sea was frozen you could walk from Tajar to the far north across the ice, saving weeks of hard travel through the mountains.

“If there’s no boats do we wait until its frozen and walk across?”

“It’s possible, but only a fool would try. There are dangers on the ice; strange spirits that freeze you solid, so that when the ice melts you drop like a stone to the bottom. There’s also wolves; ancestors of Spirit perhaps, but mean and wild.”

Konrad thought of encountering a pack of wolves bigger than Spirit and fervently hoped that there was still a boat available.

After a meagre breakfast of stale bread and dry meat from Konrad's pack, they set off following the coastline. Sea birds shrieked high above them and the frigid waves slapped against the rocks, kicking up a fine salty mist. Spirit returned to Konrad' side after some time with her muzzle tinged red.

“At least you ate well,” Konrad grumbled, his stomach rumbling.

They walked in silence for the most part, each focussing on maintaining their footing on the uneven rocks, and Konrad’s thoughts dwelled on the strange conversation he had had the night before. The voice had sounded mad and there was a venom to its words when it talked of Casovan. Of the four small gods it was fair to say that Casovan was the least friendly. He'd been surly and mean spirited towards Konrad and the other gods, and Konrad hadn't forgotten his cruel remarks when he’d noticed his leg.

Konrad hesitated to share what he had learned with Rolo. Hearing voices that no-one else could was never a good sign and the big northman was the most superstitions person he had ever met. The most outlandish caution so far had been ‘never jump over a child’, and Rolo himself had been unsure about the origin of that one.

When they stopped for a brief rest Konrad decided that it made no sense to keep it to himself, after all Rolo had opened up about his own family secrets.

“Last night, through the storm, did you hear anything strange?” Konrad asked.

“I heard the wind shrieking like a pack of demons and the thunder of the sea.”

“A voice spoke to me.”

Rolo carefully laid down the piece of dry sausage and the knife he had been using to cut off small slivers.

“This is because you slept with your head facing east, I told you that’s how we bury our dead.”

Konrad gave him a blank stare.

“I know what you're thinking, that I'm just some superstitious northerner, but it's well known that demons use such weather to break through to our world. What did the voice say?”

Konrad repeated the conversation as best he could, explaining the voice's apparent hatred for Casovan and the invitation to travel to the coldest mountain.

“Have you ever heard of the coldest mountain?”

Rolo looked thoughtful for a moment. “We don’t call it by that name, but there is a mountain that sounds like what you describe. It isn’t the largest in the north, but it stands alone on an island. A bitter wind rolls down its slopes that’s so cold that it can freeze a man solid. No ship can approach it.”

“He said I need to go there to be his guest. He said that there was something valuable under the mountain.”

“It'd be best to ignore this, demons often tell such lies to tempt adventures to their doom. The last harbour isn’t far now, we can find a tavern and have a real meal of salted fish and fresh bread and forget this nonsense.”

Their journey continued and they climbed higher, following the rising line of the cliff. They were so high that Konrad could see all of the way across the northern sea to the dark shadows of the mountains beyond.

“We’re here,” Rolo proclaimed.

How could there be a harbour here? The waves crashed against the cliff hundreds of feet below them. Konrad walked to where Rolo was standing and looked down in amazement.

When he had finished his work, the creator must have taken his hand and scooped out a gigantic hole in the land. The cliff they stood on simply fell away hundreds of feet down to the water below.

Hundreds of boats of all shapes and sizes filled the calm waters, protected from the wind by the sheer rock walls. The opening of the harbour was wide enough for even the largest ships to pass each other with ease, and towards the back of this natural wonder, hundreds of wooden buildings seemed to float on the water. A colony of people worked away like busy ants far below.

“It started with one family who drove some wood into the soft mud at the bottom and built upon it. Then more and more came. It’s the finest fishery in Parthanea, selling every strange and wonderful treasure of the ocean.”

“There are plenty of boats here,” Konrad said, eyeing the large vessels which now sat tied tightly to the rock walls with their sails furled.

“Those ships travel all over the known world. You could find a boat to take you anywhere you could think of, even to the places that don’t have names.”

There was a wistfulness in Rolo's voice and Konrad got the impression that his friend had the soul of a true adventurer.

A wooden staircase descended from the cliffs down to the last harbour, supported by huge iron pins that had been driven directly into the rock. Konrad noted the rust colour that was bleeding from them and he tied a rope around Spirit and they made their way cautiously, testing each step.

The people of the last harbour all wore the same kind of greasy animal fur clothing and every activity revolved around the sea; piles of dry seaweed and salted fish were sold by shouting street vendors, and fishermen dragged giant baskets and nets along the wooden decking of the streets. The houses and buildings had a distinctly nautical look, many of them built from parts salvaged from ships. But despite its charm, the waters that flowed beneath the town had a grim odour which was impossible to avoid breathing in.

“Their plumbing solution is logical, but it can be ripe when the tide is heading in.” Rolo laughed as he watched Konrad wrinkle his nose. “You’ll get used to it.”

Rolo lead them to a low slung building with a creaking sign outside.

“What’s this place?” Konrad asked.

“It’s The Rusted Compass,” Rolo replied, pointing to the sign. “Says so right there.”

The tavern was built from an entire ship that had been turned upside-down. The smell of a fishy stew came from a large black cooking pot, suspended over a fire of dry seaweed crackling softly in the hearth. Around half of the cleanly scrubbed tables were full of local sailors and fishermen and women who were drinking and talking in low voices.

“Two hot meals, two cups of ale and any news you have of a man named Briarstone,” Rolo said, rapping his knuckles on the bar.

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Spirit gave a light growl.

“Three hot meals,” Rolo corrected. “—and three cups of ale,” he added quickly when the growling didn’t stop.

The innkeeper gave a toothless grin and pointed over to a table behind them, where a pair of booted feet could be seen sticking out from a bench. “That’s old Briarstone over there, he’s sleeping one off. If you go over I’ll bring your food and drink for two silver bits.”

Rolo dropped some coins on the bar and headed for the table.

“It’s certainly him,” Rolo murmured, peering at the figure.

Briarstone was a stout man, dressed in the fashion of sailors; a stained shirt, silken sash around his waist that used to be red at one point in it’s life, and tattered long-tailed coat. His grey beard was shaggy and stained yellow around his lips. Even asleep he held a short pipe clenched in his teeth.

“He won’t be any use to us for a while,” Konrad said, surveying the piles of empty ale cups stacked on the table. He'd often seen his father in such a state.

Their food arrived and they attacked the stew, ordering several extra bowls. As they wiped the last of the meal up with pieces of bread, Briarstone stirred and muttered, his pipe wobbling precariously.

“Hey you, you’re finally awake,” Rolo said.

“Whose that, Rolo?” Briarstone replied, sitting up and trying to focus his bleary, bloodshot eyes on them.

“That it is, and this is my companion, Konrad.”

“And that’s Spirit,” Konrad added.

“We’re looking for a ship to take us to Montdun.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Briarstone said with a great yawn that cracked his jaw. He stretched and heaved a sigh as several popping sounds came from his back and Konrad caught sight of a wicked looking cutlass shoved into the sash around his belly, polished and gleaming.

“Oh no,” Briarstone groaned, looking behind them.

A heavy smell of perfume wafted over them as two women took seats at their table.

“Are you gentlemen looking for a captain by any chance?”

Briarstone rolled his eyes. “Ladies, it’s really not necessary—”

“—You must have heard of captain Renau,” one of the women interrupted.

“They must have, he’s the bravest captain in the Last Harbour,” the other continued.

“His skill on the high seas is unmatched, and his loyalty to his friends unrivalled.”

“Listen girls, Rolo is a friend, he just wants—" Briarstone tried to say, but one of the women placed a finger to his whiskery lips to silence him.

“—I heard that he found the greatest treasure in the ocean, and had to marry a Faelen princess to keep it.”

“What was the treasure?” Konrad asked, enraptured by the story.

Briarstone sighed and began searching through the ale cups.

“He’ll never say, it was stolen by a fiend from the deep and he swore to recover it.”

“—If you’re looking for safe passage, then Renau’s ship The Blue Faced Booby is the finest and fastest ship on the high seas. Pirates and brigands alike flee before it, and women flock to it.”

“Women flock to it, that’s a new one,” Briarstone muttered, finally finding a half full cup of ale and draining it. “Listen ladies, you’ve done your part well enough, I’ll take it from here.”

The women flashed smiles at Rolo and Konrad and returned to the bar.

“What was that about?” Rolo asked, wide eyed.

“It’s the captain of the ship I’m with. He can be a little bit.. dramatic at times.”

“Do you know Captain Renau? Can we meet him? Where’s The Blue Faced Booby? Is that going to be our ship?” Konrad asked.

The chair next to Konrad was pulled away with a scraping sound and a young man stood at the table, his hands on his hips. He wore soft black leather boots and his black hat sat at a jaunty angle on his long shiny hair. His short beard and moustache were trimmed to neat points.

“Captain Renau, at your service,” the young man said, whipping off his hat and giving a small bow.

“You might have heard of him,” Briarstone muttered.

-

Konrad had used a little of his dwindling coin to rent a room for the night at The Rusted Compass, and the comfortable sleep had relieved some of the aches and pains of their flight from Enderburg.

He and Rolo now found themselves on the docks of the Last Harbour, in front of the largest ship he had ever seen. It had three towering masts and sailors scrambled up and down the rigging lines, unfurling its vast sails.

“Looks like we've arrived just in time,” Konrad said. He had never been on a ship before and the excitement of his first voyage had driven away any lingering concern he held from their ordeal in the storm or the strange voice that had spoken to him.

“That’s not our ship,” said Rolo, pointing to the very end of the dock. “That is.”

The Blue Faced Booby was tied to the dock but still leaned at a dangerous angle even in the calm waters of the harbour. It only had one mast and the much mended sail flapped limply against the ropes that held it.

“We are going to die aren’t we?” Konrad said quietly. Spirit slinked down onto the wooden dock and covered her eyes with her paws.

“I’ll go and find Briarstone,” Rolo said, stepping up the gangplank.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a ship to the north,” a soft voice behind Konrad said.

A young woman with jet black hair tied into a dozen thick braids stood behind Konrad. Her eyes were curiously light, almost wholly white, and she wore a thick blue coat trimmed with grey fur.

“Is this The Blue Faced Booby?” she asked, glancing at the scrap of paper in her hand and giving the boat a doubtful look. “Some people in the town recommended a captain Renau to me.”

“This is it,” Konrad confirmed, moving to the side so that she could clearly see the peeling letters on the side of the boat that he assumed was the name.

“See that my bags are safely taken aboard will you?” she said, and held out a silver piece.

Konrad glanced at Spirit, who he was sure would have shrugged if she'd been able to, then grabbed the silver and the two bags and hauled them onto the ship.

Captain Renau emerged onto the deck wearing tight fitting leather pants and a matching waistcoat over a billowing white shirt. Rolo stalked out just behind him.

“It’s robbery. We agreed on a price last night,” Rolo exclaimed. “Where’s Briarstone?”

“He’s indisposed,” Renau sniffed.

“More like incapacitated,” Rolo muttered.

“I’m the captain of this ship northman. If you don’t like the price then there’s no voyage at all. If we go now I’m risking being stuck in the north all winter. What am I going to do there for two months?” Renau had a light sing song voice and when he spoke his hands moved in small theatrical gestures.

“Be serious at that price I could buy my own ship,” Rolo complained.

“But you could not buy a the greatest captain in the Last Harbour, or a magnificent crew, true of heart and hardy sailors all,” Renau exclaimed.

“What crew? It’s just you and Briarstone,” Rolo retorted.

“What’s the price to go north?” asked the young woman stepping forward.

“My lady, I did not see you had come aboard. Captain Renau, at your service,” Renau said, whipping off his hat and bowing with the grace of a dancer. “Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

“You may call me Serena.”

“Serena, let me explain the current situation. Winter has come early this year and to take the journey now would involve a high personal and financial risk for me and my brave ship. She is sturdy, but I must treat her with respect.” He slapped the railing and one of the bannisters popped out and fell into the water with a plop.

“It's imperative that I get across the sea as soon as possible,” Serena said.

Renau quickly took in the rich fur trim of her coat and the sturdy expensive luggage.

“As I said the cost is elevated given the immense risk.”

“How much?”

“A hundred gold pieces.”

“How much did he ask you for?” Serena asked, turning to Rolo.

"Twenty five gold,” Rolo replied woodenly as Renau glared at him. “But even that’s robbery.”

“I will pay fifty gold pieces for myself and this man,” Serena stated.

Renau appraised Serena for a few moments his eyes narrowing. “Why would you pay for him?”

“I’ll need a guide when we arrive in the north, I must get to Montdun immediately.”

There was a pause in which Konrad could see Renau look from Rolo to Serena and make a rapid mental calculation. “Rolo has a companion. For all three passengers the fee would be… eighty gold pieces.”

“Done,” the young woman said quickly and held her hand out to Renau. Her fingers were slim and each covered with an intricate network of blue ink.

The captain looked blankly at Serena’s outstretched hand, probably noting the gold rings and bracelets and berating himself for not asking for more. Rolo, in contrast stared at the hand as though it was a poisonous snake and took a half step back.

The captain rallied well and flashed his winning smile, taking Serena’s hand and bending down gracefully to kiss it. “Serena, perhaps you would like to join me for dinner this evening in the captains quarters. I’m sure you will find the company more refined.”

“Certainly,” Serena replied.

“I’m afraid there isn’t enough room for everybody,” Renau added with a backward glance to Rolo. “Make ready to sail,” he bellowed to no-one in particular. “And somebody bring those bags.”

Rolo continued to stare at Serena with a dark look on his face as Renau led her below the deck.

“I thought you’d would be happy, we just got free passage to the North,” Konrad said.

“If I didn’t need to get home as soon as possible I'd be off this ship and as far away from that woman as possible,” Rolo replied, giving Konrad a serious look. “I’d advise you to do just that.”

“What do you mean? She seemed nice to me, a little cold perhaps.”

“Of all of the things that bring bad luck to a voyage, nothing’s as bad as a witch.”