Chapter 13: Cloak and Swagger
It turned out that sailing the seas with a bunch of pirates in a magic ship, while exciting in concept, lacked sorely in other aspects. Namely dry places to lounge in the sun. Sure, there was the odd day where the water was glass and the sun shone down like a warm blanket, but most days, a briny wind swept across the deck, making napping outside uncomfortable.
Recently, she’d taken to using the crow’s nest; it was protected somewhat by the wind while still able to enjoy the benefits of the sun, and gave a nice vantage to survey her holdings. It also got her away from that Rowan guy, who kept following her around, recording her every move in that notebook of his. Such a strange guy, that one.
According to the quartermaster, they were stopping briefly at a town just outside Esthar’s influence to get repairs. It was fortunate that main mast had been held in place by the network of cables, sheets and rigging above, else it might have crashed down through the deck, however their progress was slower than what Captain Crow had been happy with, so they needed to stop for a few days.
She eyed the thin sheets of metal penned with glowing inscriptions, connecting the severed top of the mast to its base. The metal seemed flimsy enough for her to tear with her bare hands. Perhaps stopping for repairs was best after all.
Safety aside, she was tired of this tub, and she would be allowed ashore for however long repairs took. Well, it wasn’t as though she was part of the crew, so theoretically, she could just leave, but she had promised to stay with Dantes for now, and her promise was good for at least two weeks. Three might be stretching it though. She’d ditch the pooch eventually.
She noticed her latest and greatest source of entertainment clamouring up the rigging below her. She pretended not to notice as Will climbed through to the crow’s nest and open his mouth three times to say something, but reconsider every time. She had her eyes trained on the horizon for now, looking for land. Above her, some sea birds glided on the unseen air currents carrying them aloft. They stood silently for a few seconds before Will found his tongue again.
“Y-you won’t see much without a telescope, miss. I should’ve brought it up with me.” He was still fidgeting behind her. She couldn’t so much as see it, as feel it in his voice.
She glanced sideways at him, confirming that thought before looking back out to sea. “It’s fine, I have sharp eyes.” She wasn’t being particularly prideful in this situation; she’d once tried using one, but found it only narrowed her field of view. She could already see things on the horizon fairly easily, and she doubted she would miss a big island with nothing else around.
“By-by the w-way, I-I brought you lunch, miss.” He stammered out, holding out a parcel wrapped in wax paper.
Unwrapping it revealed a cold turkey sandwich. Apparently, to fill his somewhat undesired role of cook, Harq tended to make sandwiches en mass, only bothering to cook anything if he ran out of things to put between two slices of bread. At least he made his own bread, so she wasn’t getting tired of them.
She’d occasionally taken over his duties when she wanted to spice up her dinner or lunch anyhow, so things were just fine. If only she had a nice, juicy tuna, then she could make something truly special. Like raw tuna.
“Say, m-miss, I heard you like fish, right? The place we’re going actually has a special kind a’ fish. You can’t find it anywhere else, apparently. Featherfish, they call ‘em. Not sure how they taste, but the locals eat ‘em, so they can’t be that bad. I-I can treat you, if ya like…”
A smile cracked on her face as she heard that. Free food in combination with a thin spire she could see just now peeking over the horizon? It was time to go ashore.
***
As they moored the vessel in the long bay, what she’d originally taken to be a shantytown revealed itself to be several shipyards lining the bay, with hundreds of workers swarming around massive frigates, and smaller brigs alike.
She’d gotten some more information from the kid as they approached, as she had nothing better to do. Apparently, Dorry was a hub for naval repairs and commerce. While there was little to trade here, with the population limited by the island’s space, it was also the central most piece of land in the Red Sea, meaning just about any ship traveling to the opposite coast would pass relatively close by. It also happened to be the closest port outside Esthar’s direct influence, which was why they hadn’t stopped earlier.
The islands natural features were replaced with a clustered metropolis of tightly packed buildings covering its gentle hills. Piercing the skyline was a needle-like tower resting on what appeared to be the highest point of the island, granting the island a somewhat ominous appearance from afar. Apparently, it was used for mages communicating with the mainland, and functioned as the administrative building of the area.
Apparently, the politics of the place were complicated, but the bickering of humans interested her little, so she’d tuned Will out when he’d gotten to that part. She’d mostly been focusing on her plans for the coming days anyhow. The boy had offered to treat her to some fish, which she fully intended on accepting; she’d never say no to free food. She would also like to visit the markets.
While there were bigger ports along the Red Sea, this was the most central, and thus had a great variety of goods passing through. From the north came textiles, from the east came spices, the south provided most of the foodstuff, and from the west, where they were headed, came magic, and much of it all passed through the markets here.
Aside from shopping and eating, she also thought she’d like to visit a clothier. While she had other clothes to wear, none were soulbound, and thus made wearing somewhat difficult for her as they would drop right off when she transformed. As such, she’d mainly been sticking to her soulbound black and silver tunic, which while stylish, was quite chilly in the sea breeze. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten to bring the matching cloak along with her during their flight from Esthar, as it didn’t suit it’s arid climate.
Harq had told her in no unclear terms that any sort of stealing would be a bad idea, which she decided to interpret as “getting caught was a bad idea”. She wholeheartedly agreed, though she decided it was likely an exaggeration, considering cats were generally not held to the same rules that humans were. The authorities would be understanding. At least, she’d never heard of a cat standing trial. Maybe it was a cultural thing.
As the crew went about stowing sails, weighing anchor and other sailor-like activities, Mitty spied a man jetting towards them on a thin board, pulled by a kite flying on the last remnants of the morning’s breeze.
“AHOY! SPITFIRE! HARBOURMASTER SENDS WORD!”
The person, a boy of around 12 if she was gauging him right, was the messenger for the harbourmaster round these parts. The captain had apparently sent a message ahead of them notifying the harbourmaster of their arrival, and the boy handed him a scroll, tied with red twine.
“Here be yer appointment papers. Just sign at tha bottom and hand er over to tha clerk at tha needle. She’ll tell ya where ta go n’ when. Anyhoo, I’m off. Later.”
The scrawny boy jumped off the side of the ship, and was off in his kite-board in moments, this time headed perpendicular to the shore where another ship was anchored. She really wanted to try out that kite board. She added it to the mental list of things to do in the coming days. Maybe she could tie Rowan to the kite to keep him out of her hair.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
***
Mitty decided to go ashore first while the others finished preparing the ship from maintenance in the coming days, joining the Captain, Rowan and also the quartermaster on the rowboat that came to pick them up (since theirs had a massive hole in the side).
The island-city was just as impressive up close, if not more. Most buildings were made of wood or stone, but certain taller structures were metal, shorn from a single massive block, using magic most likely. The buildings were mostly vertical, and there were several that seemed to lay horizontally across the roofs of others, as though someone had just dropped their house on top of someone else’s, creating a canopy of wood and stone, with the sky just poking through in places.
Right now, they were following the main street, heading to the inn where they would stay until the ship was fixed. That was the idea anyway. She’d already written down the address in case she got lost, which seemed entirely possible in this maze of a city. She’d already received Dantes' pay from the captain but wasn’t sure what to use it on. Food, sure, but what else? She also considered stealing what she wanted but figured she may as well use up the money first, and if she lacked funds, then she could start paying her own ‘discounted rates’.
They walked for some time, passing through the throngs of seamen, traders and merchants, as well as labourers and local workers. They came upon the inn first, where she split ways with the others. She could check it out later, but finding a place to sleep had never been more difficult than finding a corner and closing her eyes in the past.
Now that she was alone, she took note of the passing people. She recognized many to be Estharian, not only from their skin tone, but also of the style of clothing. The clothes were different, bulkier even, but the designs were similar enough, and the colours just as splendid. The current climate wasn’t cold by any means, it was a considerable step in that direction from the arid climate of Esthar. It mainly just meant that the men actually wore shirts around here. She’d heard from Rowan that where they were headed, Windcrown, was extremely cold. It ran far north across the coast like a finger as one half of the only opening to the Mediterranean Red Sea. Not only was it more northern, but most of the major settlements of the region were high up in the mountains, resulting in harsh winds year-round from the air flowing from the mainland over the mountains to the open ocean. Or something.
Why would anyone build a city somewhere cold? How would they enjoy naps in the warm sun?
Making her way in the general direction of the crowd soon brought her to a busy square, one of the few places devoid of overhanging buildings draped over one another. Stalls and vendors lined every inch, shouting out their prices, or haggling passionately with customers. An aroma of spice and fish and nuts and all sorts of food assailed her senses, and she found herself drawn to a corner of the square where more of the food seemed to be located.
“Afternoon miss! Could I interest you in some ripe apples? Imported from the mainland and preserved in the finest preservation runes.”
“CHEAP FISH CAUGHT FRESH THIS MORNING! ONLY 3 ARD A KILO!”
And so on. She did do a double take at the fish vendor’s stall for some tuna, but didn’t see anything she recognized, so she just bought a few medium sized ones. She didn’t know how much an Ard was, but she saw all sorts of coins being exchanged including some that were familiar to her, so she just put down a rod, and the vendor gave her change after weighing both the fish. She might’ve haggled a bit just for fun, but she realized she didn’t really care about saving money, and her time was more important than some metal discs. That, and the fact that she didn’t like having to shout to make herself heard over the crowd.
Following this line of thought, she nimbly ‘acquired’ a jar of nuts, haggle free, while the vendor manning the stall was loudly talking up the value of almonds to a prospective buyer. Much faster to just set a price and pay it, which in her case, was 0. Really quite clever.
She similarly acquired some honey in the same way and packed it all up into her dress’s wonderful pockets. She was pretty sure the preservation runes for the dress would extend to fresh fish. Probably. She didn’t see why not, but magic was weird like that. She had been warned about a few oddly specific things like not putting a folding fan made of rodent tails inside it, or not putting a spatially expanded storage inside her pocket, or some other such nonsense. No rhyme or reason to this magic stuff.
Having acquired what she’d set out for, she slipped out of the square at the nearest corner, not really sure where she was, but also not too concerned about it either. Worse came to worst, she could always just ask someone directions to the harbour where the ship was… no longer moored.
She paused, trying to decide if it was a problem, being totally lost in an island jungle of wood and stone. She shrugged. Probably fine… She set off in a random direction, happy enough to just look around in search of interesting sights.
Walking down the cobbled roads beneath the wood and stone canopy she stopped, as something small and hard had made its way into her slippers. She sat down on a small stack of crates outside the entrance to an alley, or at least a passageway much narrower than the somewhat broad street she walked currently, barely the shoulder span of a large man. Shaking the stone out of her shoe, she took a moment to look around, and nearly turned face first into a gruff looking man exiting the alley. He mumbled something vaguely insulting about foreigners under his breath before stalking off.
Upon second inspection, there was a welcoming light emerging from the alley from whence the man emerged, and a small sign above it that read “Collin’s Cloaks Coats and Capes”. Certainly an unexpected place for a shop, for none might stumble upon it unless they were searching for it, but the shop was clearly made of a finer material than the surrounding buildings, the door a polished redwood of some sort and the knob was embossed with a crescent moon.
She suddenly realized she’d approached the building without having realized it, though she would have done so regardless, and entered the shop. A chime sounded as she entered, but no one came to greet her. The shop had little in the way of wares, and the shop floor contained but three mannequins outfitted in the finest cloaks she’d seen.
Upon the first, were simple white robes, with golden chains embroidered along the hem, but most eye catching was the cloak, at casual inspecting appearing a scintillating white, but upon closer inspection, all colours woven together comprised the garment, so finely intertwined that even a direct inspection of the fabric confused her heightened senses.
The second wore a deep azure blue that shifted and undulated like the depths of the sea. The fabric reached all the way down to the floor, and the hem seemed to break upon the floorboards like waves on the rocks.
The third caught her interest most of all, for upon it lay a cloak of nothing at all. No light reflected upon it though the room was well lit, as though it devoured even the light that shone in through the windows, though the light that made its way into the shop from the alley was dim. A cloak woven of shadow and night.
“I see you’ve found something that caught your interest, old tail… or perhaps not so old? I am Colin, as you may have guessed, and this is my shop. I’m afraid my selection is rather limited at present. Had you come but a moment sooner… well, nevermind.”
She now saw a rather ordinary man propping up his head on his hand behind the counter, though she saw no entrances he could have arrived through. The man was so unremarkable, in fact, that it was notable. His face, neither handsome nor ugly, his hair a plain brown. Only his eyes stood out as landmarks on an otherwise unremarkable canvas, as something more sinister than just shrewd intelligence flickered behind them in the dim light.
He continued, “That there is a cloak of fuligin, woven of shadow and night. Perfect for remaining inconspicuous during the darker hours. It is as you see when the hood is up, but for blending into the crowd? Not so great, which is why it can do this.” He pulled the hood back, revealing the mannequin’s face, and suddenly, the cloak was merely a plain black velvet. Of quality make, certainly, but not as disconcertingly dark. Suddenly, the shadows of the room stretched less deeply, as though their master bade them leave. “Little of the fabric yet remains, and rarer yet are those who can fashion it into something worth anything. Did it… catch your eye?” Each sentence seemed to end in a deep drawn out exhale.
“Certainly, but how much are you asking for it?” It looked expensive, and though she could probably grab the cloak and be out the door before he could blink, something in the back of her mind was violently opposed to that idea. It took her a moment to recognize it as her animal instinct, dampened as it was as a human, and it told her this man was dangerous. She’d long since learned to listen to this part of her brain, but she did not run, as she might have once upon a time.
She inspected the room a second time, noting the pristine floors, though not polished, the lack of décor, though still classy, and finally the realism of the mannequins. A noble lady, prideful and powerful; A grizzled sailor, alert and dangerous; A young man, handsome and roguish. Each one perfectly lifelike, as though they might just get up and leave and she had but to say the word. Which word, she did not know.
The shopkeeper noticed her gaze smiled. “Ah yes, that’s what I do with thieves, most of the time. I release them eventually of course, wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of the magic counsel round these parts. Way too much paperwork involved in that sort of thing. And then you have to… nevermind.” He massaged the bridge of his nose then sighed. “Anyway, let’s just get this over with, you want the cloak, I want to get back to my needle felting. The price is simple, Princess.” He dropped his hand he’d been resting his head on and faced her square on, narrowing his eyes. “I want you to do me a tiny little favour. And I want your name as collateral.”