David Williams, captain of the Misanthrope, a three-mast caravel rigged with the squared sails preferred for long-range ocean voyages, shook his head at Aurnia for the third time in so many minutes and folded his dark, leathery arms across his bare chest. “Look, lady. My crew and I just don’t care for outsiders that much. They make us uneasy. It's nothing personal.”
Situated behind a serpentine strip of bare sand that stood but a few feet above the ocean’s surface, the town’s port wrapped around the edges of the wide, slow-moving river that split the town in twain. Two-story stucco warehouses crowded up against an open cobblestone field bordering the shore line, and multifarious finger-like docks reached out into a murky blue-green lagoon. Scattered boats marred the horizon like clumps of dirt on a blue tablecloth, boats that would eventually reside at the docks come nightfall, but their present absence left room for the moored transport ships and their crews to move about practically unhindered.
Only a handful of the docked ships were both large enough and rigged properly for an extended voyage. Out of those handful, all but Captain Williams were heading in the wrong direction. But the man apparently had no use for gold.
The day was not progressing as she’d hoped.
Captain Williams was beginning to seriously irritate her. Since when could an obscene amount of money not buy transportation? “And I’m willing to soothe your unease with a commensurate amount of gold. A ship as large as yours…you must have taken on passengers at some point in the past.”
Scratching a hand through a dark tangle of chest hair, the man directed a troubled stare back to his ship. Three pairs of men hastily transferred an assortment of sacks, barrels, and crates from an open top wagon onto a wench-operated lift, their attentions everywhere but on the task at hand. Despite their strenuous pace, Captain Williams frowned in obvious dissatisfaction.
“Never felt the need,” he said without turning back to her. “The Misanthrope trades in the ports of seven different kingdoms, specializing in the acquisition of such rare commodities as Tottleton’s saffron mead, dried Ledodis mushroom from Fen Quarry, and rock toad oil from Crag Orten. We do well enough for ourselves that we don’t have to suffer the company of stone-leggers like you.”
Aurnia tried not to frown. Stone-legger. A crude seafaring term used to describe those who have spent the majority of their lives constrained to land. As silly and innocuous as it sounded, in David William’s mind, he had basically just spit in her face.
Realizing she wasn’t just going to go away, he finally afforded her the whole of his attention. His eyes dipped south from her face, taking in the full height of her lithe form in slow, greedy sweeps. A lecherous grin split his sun-cracked lips. “Then again, we just might be able to work something out. My crew does get lonely on those long, cold ocean nights. It’s not often a woman as…comely as yourself wishes to share our company.”
He rubbed his hands together, licking his lips as he gawked. “You’re not shy, are you?”
Aurnia straightened reflexively. Were she anywhere but Comelbough, a crude bastard like Captain Williams would quickly come to regret his disrespectful tone, but she had to be extremely careful here. Considering the tense state of the city and the looming shadow of both Vincht and the baron's Breathers, it seemed the scales of Fate were already stacked against her. Using anything other than the conventional means of negotiation to secure transport would only tip them further.
Besides, that little voice in the darkness of her mind told her his attitude was all show. Everything about him - from his crossed arms to his stand-offish tone to his blatant misogyny - screamed ‘go away.’ And had he not been their only hope of getting out of Comelbough today, she might have listened.
But one way or another, Aurnia Celine Mistral always got her way.
************
A pair of wide, silver eyes stared out from a series of equally wide holes cut into the sides of a long wooden crate, darting from man to net to cart as fish of all shapes and sizes paraded by the wagon. A soft whine wafted through the damp ocean air as a fisherman carrying a two-foot long silver-blue fish passed them by. Nevin shushed the crate, reaching out to adjust the heavy woolen blanket draped atop the hungry lynx's hiding spot.
“Just one, Nevin.” Aidux whispered through one of the hastily cut air holes. “I just want one of those tasty looking fish. Just one.”
Nevin leaned in close. “You can have all the fish you want once Aurnia finds us a boat.”
The cat squinted out at him. “All I want? You promise?”
“I promise.”
He looked around nervously, checking to make sure none of the locals had spotted the strange young man conversing with a wooden box and decided to come investigate. Despite the cat being locked up in a crate for transport, he was worried people might react poorly to his friend's presence in the port. Ideally, the three of them would make it out of Comelbough without anyone ever knowing Aidux was here, but as long as the guard specifically never figured it out, Nevin would count that as a win.
Appraising the wide-open staging area at the port's heart, he was grateful to see that no one was paying him and his mule-drawn wagon any mind. Sailors hefted crates of goods up wooden ramps. Fisherman gutted their hauls by the shore, tossing the unwanted bits into overflowing tin buckets. Gulls waddled in to pick at the piles, peck and screeching at one another as they fought for scraps. A vagrant squatted against a nearby warehouse, swaddled in stained rags and picking at the dirt with a crooked stick. Small bands of soldiers conversed beneath scattered canvas pavilions, relaxing against their steel-tipped spears and generally ignoring the locals.
Nevin's fingers nervously brushed the cloth-wrapped Sharasil bound across his back. Had Aurnia gotten her way, the mysterious blade would currently be packed away inside a crate in much the same manner as Aidux, but Nevin had vetoed that plan before she could even finish speaking. The idea of being disconnected from the blade in that way had sent his anxiety soaring skyward. A strange reaction, considering he'd been keen on dropping the blade off a cliff not but a week prior.
The cloth sweater had been his compromise. This way, curious onlookers wouldn't see anything particularly odd about the young man in their midst, and Nevin could still take comfort in the Sharasil's proximity. A lot of good it would do him if their situation took a turn toward violence, but at least he wouldn't be completely without protection.
With Aidux secreted away and the man in black absent, Nevin prayed that Aurnia would find them a boat, and soon. Every minute out in the open was one more minute for the soldiers to take interest and wander over. One more minute for a Breather to catch a whiff of the blade and run him down.
One more minute for Vincht to wander out of some side alley and take his revenge.
“Nevin.”
The unexpected voice ripped him from his dark thoughts. Aidux stared intently out at him from within the confines of the crate.
“It's gonna be okay, Nevin.”
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He offered the cat an uncertain smile, but couldn't hide his shaking hands. “I want to believe that. I do. But without Theis...”
“You still have me. And Aurnia too.”
“I don't get it. He just...left. He dragged us through the mountains and into this stupid town and just...” Nevin tossed his hands in the air. “Walked away.”
“But he didget us here. He told us he would, and he did.”
“I shouldn't have let him go. I should have argued with Aurnia.”
The cat pressed a massive paw up against a circular air hole, the smooth pink skin of his footpad tasting the warm late morning sun. “I miss him, too.”
Nevin balked. He didn't miss him. How could he? The man was infuriating. Grumpy. Stoic. Harsh. He should be happy to be free of him. At least Aurnia took the time to explain things to him. At least Aurnia spoke to him like a person.
And yet...there was an odd honesty to the man in black's actions. He didn't sugarcoat his thoughts and didn't dance around his points. He said what he meant and didn't care whether the truth hurt. And while it might be painful to hear in the moment, Nevin realized he always knew where he stood with the man after he took the time to think about his message.
No, he didn't miss him, but that didn't mean he was happy he was gone. He pressed his hand up to the crate until the skin of his palm rested against Aidux's footpad.
“Nevin?”
“Yes, Aidux?”
“Can you please just go get me a fish?”
************
Aurnia pressed her lips together in a thin line. It was time to go on the offensive.
“Captain Williams, might I ask what sort of cargo you’re transporting?”
Stepping forward, the captain trailed a finger down her arm and grinned. “Oh, a little of this, little of that. Quite of bit of brandy, if your interested. You can have as much as you like, if that will help loosen you up, get you in the mood for a little fun.”
She ignored him. “It’s just that I couldn’t help but notice how attentive your crew is to guarding the ship, especially with the reputation of Comelbough as one of the safest ports in all of Stragus. One would think that the captain of a ship like the Misanthrope would feel at ease in such a secure and quiet city.”
Captain Williams glanced back over his shoulder. Three rough-looking men stood watch beside a wide ramp leading up to the ship’s deck. Each held a cudgel in one hand. They were completely silent, avoiding becoming engaged in conversation to pass the time. Their eyes darted furtively from one passerby to the next.
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “Me and my crew are suspicious people by nature. The Misanthrope’s our home. We don’t appreciate strangers snooping around our home.”
She shuddered to think what Captain Williams and his crew would do to someone they caught snooping around their ship. Out at sea, a ship was practically a country unto itself, and it wouldn’t be hard for a snooper to ‘disappear’ once a ship broke port. And Captain Williams, with his broad chest, thick arms, and unsavory attitude, would have little trouble exacting his own personal form of justice once the Misanthrope hit open waters.
“A completely understandable sentiment, Captain Williams. I wouldn’t want people sneaking around my house either. But something else is bothering me. It’s rare I run into someone who doesn’t appreciate a heaping bag of gold shils. It’s just not natural. In my experience, there are generally only two reasons why someone won’t take a job when I offer them as much money as I’ve offered you.
“The first reason is if I’ve asked them to do something that directly puts them or someone they care about in a life-threatening situation. It seems a man’s greed is only out-weighed by his self-preservation instinct, though there are times when a sufficient amount of money can overcome even that. And as my request for passage won’t take us through or near any dangerous territory - and I’m fairly certain that you, despite your general distaste for outsiders, don’t actually feel threatened by me and mine - I doubt you’ve turned down my money out of fear for your life and property.”
Captain Williams thumbed his nose. “And the second reason?”
“The second reason is something that I wasn’t convinced existed until I met a man some months back. You’ve heard of Theis Bane?”
“Sounds familiar.” He twirled a finger impatiently. “You gonna get to your point before the tide goes out?”
Aurnia bowed her head. “Of course. As I was saying, until I met Theis, I had never confirmed the other reason why money wouldn’t buy results. Some people just don't need the money.”
The man crossed his arms once again. “So you're right. We don't need your money, woman. We're doing just fine without you.”
She held up a single finger. “Everyone needs money, Captain Williams, no matter how much they already have. Greed is in our nature, and the more money we have, the more money we want.
“Now, I’ve been at this game for a long time, long even before your eyes first glimpsed the ocean.” Captain Williams cocked an eyebrow quizzically. “And in all my years, I’ve only ever met one person who really didn’t need the money. I understand his reasons, but yours…”
Aurnia waved a hand at the Misanthrope. “I can only assume you don’t need the money because the amount I’ve offered doesn’t compare to the value of your cargo, and you’re afraid that by giving me and mine passage, we’ll find out what you’re hauling. And that would only be a problem...” She paused, her stare penetrating deep into the man’s steely eyes.
“If you and yours are smugglers.”
Captain William’s face flushed a bright red as he took a quick step forward and grabbed her upper arm with a burly hand. “Listen here, woman. If you think I’m gonna stand here and be threatened by some skinny little twig like you, you’ve got another thing coming.”
A cruel grin sprouted on his lips as he leaned closer, his breath hot on Aurnia’s face. “Maybe you’d like a personal tour of the Misanthrope. See the lower decks if you like. You won’t need any of our brandy for us to have a good time.”
Aurnia smiled pleasantly. Her eyes didn’t waver from his. “Threatened? I believe you misunderstand my intentions, Captain Williams. I only wish to offer you my help. In exchange for passage, of course.”
The warm glow of her soul blossomed out from the darkness of her mind, crawling down through her arm to concentrate at the tip of her thumb. She placed her hand softly atop the man’s unfriendly grip, strumming his knuckles with her magically infused digit.
After a moment, the captain’s eyes went wide and he jerked his hand back, retreating a step in the process. “Bragga’s brow, lady, wha…”
“There’s no need to invoke the ocean god’s name for my sake, Captain. A frivolous act like that might earn you a spat of foul weather in the near future, and we wouldn’t want rough seas to damage your cargo, would we?”
Captain Williams just stared at her, rubbing his hand as if to ensure it was still attached. She didn't wait for his retort. “Tell me, Captain, what do you know of the Calorthian Void?”
He answered by spitting on the cobbles. “A windless spot of sea blocking a clear run at Greater Delphine. Takes three days of dedicated rowing to clear it. You can lose a week if you try to go around it.”
“Do you and your men have a fondness for rowing?”
He grunted.
“What if I told you that having me on board will save you over three days on the water, and you won’t need to touch an oar at any point in the journey?”
The captain shrugged. “So what. I’ve done it before. What’s a few extra days?”
“The problem with dangerous cargo lies in the carrying. The longer you have it, the more time it has to cause you trouble. I’m sure your employers would appreciate it if you happened to show up ahead of schedule. And should circumstances take a turn for the unfortunate, wouldn't it make sense to have someone around with the ability to remove you from those circumstances? They say the best defense is a good offense, but I'm of the opinion that no defense is greater than the ability to strategically remove one's self from the conflict altogether. Am I right?”
He stared at her in silence, searching her face for a tell, any sign of a hidden agenda. But her countenance was that of chiseled granite, a bulwark of placid haughtiness that left him little choice but to take her words as she spoke them. Overhead, a flock of pigeons tore through the air, but as the two weighed themselves against the other, they hardly noticed.
“You aren’t wrong.” Captain Williams sighed, and Aurnia knew she had him.
“Alright lady, explain your plan. Maybe we can work something out.”