“Sir, are you leaving?” asked sergeant Grasso, shifting his weight around, eyes cast down.
“We are,” I replied and came to stand in front of him, leaning down slightly to meet his eyes. I saw that whatever Jace had told them had lifted their spirits somewhat, as there was a speck of hope in the young man’s eyes.
“Leaving to go to Caffria?” he asked.
“That’s right,” I said hesitantly.
“Could… could you ask captain Leze to send some more reinforcements and provisions? All the food we have left is stale bread and gruel, and we have nothing more to smoke or drink. It would help a lot.”
“I’ll tell your captain about your wishes,” I said, but also felt uncomfortable about bearing the weight of his request on my shoulders.
“You said you’ve run out of drink?” said Jace from further back and rummaged through his horse’s saddle. From there he took a thin, light-green bottle of wine, which he gave to the young Grasso. “There, sergeant. This is a good wine from Ranza and from a particularly good vintage. One bottle is not much, but it’s better than nothing.”
The young commander of the troops took the bottle humbly, examined it, and said: “Oh thank you, kind sir. We only get leftover wine-wash from the local wineries, but this looks—” he brought the closed cork to his nose, “and smells much better.”
“And it tastes much better as well,” said Jace and hauled himself upon his horse. “Take pride, guardsmen of Caffria. You have done good work here.”
At Jace’s words, the guardsmen stood just a little straighter, and for a moment, a tiny flicker of confidence sparked in their eyes. But that was short-lived, for when we turned our horses around and left the ruined town, their grueling work had to continue, and there was still much to burn.
*
And it was thus that we made our way back by the narrow road, up that low hill and down again, and turned rightward, heading toward the city that some called Bastion of the South.
After we had put some distance between us and that depressing town where only ghosts now made their home, our mood lightened. We stopped for a quick rest, regathered our thoughts, and made some quick plans.
“So, now that we have wasted our time here,” said Iskander, stretching his legs and taking a drink from his flask of something that was probably alcoholic. “What is the plan in Caffria?”
“I think a blunt and direct approach is best,” said Florencia, looking up at me for confirmation. I nodded, and she continued. “We should go straight to the guard captain, ask him some questions, and then, maybe, ask for a meeting with the Lord Mayor.”
“Ah,” said Jace. “So just what we’ve done before.”
“Why change something that works?” asked Florencia rhetorically, and silently, I agreed.
“Who’s the Lord Mayor?” asked Iskander, more so he could have a few moments to rest.
“Baron Vico Fiandconis,” said Florencia. “He’s the younger brother of the queen. So we must behave accordingly.”
After some more stretching and breathing the fresh air, we mounted our horses and set out for Caffria.
It did not take a long time before the surrounding countryside changed to an already familiar sight—small villages rose everywhere around us, where coopers and millers and winemakers worked night and day, and around the many thickets were lumber mills built that sawed raw wood and made them into planks and timbers and, sometimes, furniture. And in the distance, we heard the rhythmic pounding of iron, where the masters of iron made their work in secret.
We had decided to ride throughout the night, because none of us wanted to sleep under the naked sky again, even though the weather was noticeably warmer. It was well above freezing, and the wind coming from the ocean was softer than when it came from the mainland.
The reason to ride without pause to Caffria was that we had been traveling between open pastures and farmlands for hours, and there was no room to make camp. We had crossed a small stream where we could’ve done so, but it was well before sunset, and it was too early to stop for the day. We would have to make camp beside the road, but none of us wanted to do that.
So instead, we rode ahead in the darkness for many hours.
Throughout the journey, Jace generously shared his extensive knowledge of the southern provinces with me and Iskander, who took an interest probably out of politeness. Florencia, on the other hand, had already been to Caffria many times with her work with the Lodge, and though she says it’s a gorgeous city, it did not hold any special place in her heart.
Caffria was one of the largest cities in Lienor and built into its bay was the grandest port in the entire country, which served as a vital center for commercial trade. Its many shipping lanes went into the eastern provinces and cities—like Bassarina, Collard, and finally, into the lush paradise city of Lottie that was built into the gorgeous place called Verdant Bay.
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And also into the west did the many merchant ships go. They sailed through the calm waters of the western Lienor provinces, into the far-away towns of Ranza and Paurli.
For the more adventurous seafarers, they ventured more westward, stopping by the many small cities of Lith that were thriving on the ocean’s coast. But the most daring merchants pushed beyond those boundaries, and headed through the treacherous waterways even more southward—into Valden and even Evilebp, hundreds of miles away.
There were many ships that had been lost in the frequent storms or other, more human-made perils. Especially of late.
It was said that to step into Caffria was to go into a city that was wholly made for the merchant and the fisher and the enjoyer of sea-stuff. The cries of seagulls were ever-present, as were those of their smaller cousins, the dull-colored shoregliders—small, sea-grey birds with bright green beaks that flew and hunted in packs.
*
The sun had already set many hours ago when we reached the outskirts of that great city. To our left flowed the Varda that had been our companion for the entire journey, and further beyond was the massive Vardurran, the enormous river that flowed through the entire country, from north to south.
The two rivers merged their paths right in the middle of the city, from where it flowed as a massive and impossibly wide thing into the bay. And countless bridges, small and wide, were built to cross them, and the entire coastline was dotted with small piers and boats and canoes and old, forgotten fishing poles.
But because it was early morning, the streets were silent and calm. And most reassuring was that it felt calm. Whereas in Bessou or Scorro, there was this sharp danger that hung in the air, a weight that pulled on my heart, but here, in Caffria, there was nothing even close to that. Whatever darkness had a hold of those two cities was diminished here, and I hoped I could sleep at ease.
Even before we went far into the spacious streets, the smell of fish and seaweed permeated all. Sometimes, a breeze came in and the smell of wood smoke mixed in, and I suddenly had the strongest appetite for some smoked fish, something that Iskander very much agreed with.
“It’s much quieter than I expected,” said Iskander and looked around the quiet streets. “Jace, you said they had this massive port here? I can’t see anything from here and there’s not a soul around! Where do we sleep? There’s still hours before the sunrise.”
Florencia slowed down her horse, Luminello, and said: “I know a quiet and clean place close by. Let’s go there.”
And thus we followed Florencia through the empty streets that were paved by large, smooth stones, worn smooth from age. The only light that came was from the occasional oil-lamp that flickered evenly on tall posts or the ever-rare light-bead lamps that hung in front of the gatehouses of the massive mansions.
“This is strange,” said Iskander as he filled his lungs with the salty night air. “This place reminds me of Raundiesnoord. But more pretentious.”
“And probably the water isn’t emerald-colored,” said Jace.
“No, but the atmosphere here is similar. Old and rich, and the smell of smoke and fish and the gulls... My city is much smaller compared to this, but here it feels homely, I have to say,” said Iskander. “Still too fancy for my liking. You Lienor-folk love your big cities.”
He and Jace continued a polite argument over whether cities needed to be this large, or if the smaller ones that were all around the Szell Counties were better. They did not find a satisfactory answer by the time we reached the place where we would spend the night.
“This is it,” Florencia said, stopping her horse and tying the reins to a well-worn wooden post.
“The Seaside House?” said Jace rather suspiciously. “It’s not on the seaside, nor is it a house.”
“It’s not even the sea,” said Iskander.
“Even I can come up with a better name,” said Jaxine, who had been silent for almost the entire journey, save for a sentence here and there with Iskander. “If they can’t be bothered to make up a clever name, how can we trust that this place is as good as you say it is?”
Florencia was not bothered by the hesitation in the slightest. Her voice was calm. “It’s a lovely and peaceful place. And far enough away from prying eyes, we can stay here without raising suspicion. I’ve stayed here many times and never had a problem. It’s mainly a place for the local sailors. They don’t talk much, anyway.”
“But—” said Jace.
“And it’s clean!” said Florencia and with that, she put an end to all arguments.
When we entered the tavern, Florencia’s predictions proved to be true. It was quiet inside, as was expected in the middle of the night. The floors were immaculate, free of dust or trash, and the bar counter gleamed with a mirror-like finish.
There was an older barkeep behind the counter, who had been asleep, and our entrance shook him awake. He straightened his back, smoothed his long and oily hair, and tucked his dark woolen shirt into his trousers.
“Goodnight, wealthy masters,” he said warmly. “Will you be needing rooms for the night? And you look exhausted and in need of a good meal. We still have some warm bread and smoked fish. Or how about some mulled wine against the cold?”
Iskander’s stomach growled at the mention of food. “Smoked fish and warm wine sound damned good,” he said, ordering all of them for himself and Jaxine. They went with heavy steps into a far corner and sat down.
“I’ll skip dinner,” said Jace. “I’ll just turn in for the night.”
And we did so as well.
*
“Have you ever seen the ocean?” I asked Florencia as we were putting our gear away for the night, and massaging our sore feet and legs.
“A few times,” she said dreamily as if remembering some good days. “I loved how huge and powerful it feels, how beyond the horizon it’s just uncounted leagues of open water. It’s fascinating for some reason.”
“I think before we leave, we have to go for a walk there,” I said. “With all that Jace said about it, I have to see it for myself.”
“It’s very functional,” said Florencia. “It’s very much like in Bessou, but less artful, less coziness, and just wider and larger. Very loud. Very annoying.”
“Let’s go either way,” I said, and Florencia smiled.
“Fine! Anyway, are you going to come to sleep with me, or will you do your meditations again?” she asked.
“I’ll meditate for a bit,” I said and sat down, legs crossed. “I feel like I’m getting closer. Last time I almost could touch the armor, but woke up right before that. And after every meditation, I can handle my powers better. I can choose when I need them and forget them when I don’t.”
“You were very confused the first days,” said Florencia. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a handle on it.”
She kissed my cheek before turning in for the night, while I closed my eyes, and tried my hardest to fall deep into the sleep-state again. For hours I tried, but that night, nothing came from the meditation, so I gave up and joined Florencia and quickly fell asleep.