This Hope Of Meeting People Of Other Countries Must Be Done Away With, Since In Ports Only The Disreputable Are Seen

“That reminds me,” Onkallant interrupted. “How did the watch search go?”

“Not well,” Takki admitted.

“I thought so. They still use sundials here. Resume, Loit.”

“Sundials are a comfort, precise clocks an overseer never satisfied. Enough of that. Eizesl Narark Akard-Velgsin, an adventurous heart in his broad chest . . . that's figurative as not yet have I beheld him. He announced the perfection of the Akard-Velgsin process to flat faces. Salt corrosion, barnacles, mice, all are reduced or scared away from the lumber of a ship treated with the new method! Everyone stared. They doubted his promises. Nobody wanted an untested model when the regular kind worked for cargo freighted regularly. Then make this the regular! That was his cry, heeded not at all in this country. If your cousins ignore you, step outside, is the old advice, and how well it applied to his case. A young lady of one of those Yean families of ludicrous wealth ordered a ship. Desabas I believe to be their name. Seifis Desabas Aesyo, that was it. Today is the maiden voyage, and so the protest is today.”

Dirant tilted in his seat toward a couple of his fellow sojourners. “Mr. Banfol. Takki. What procedure is best to decide who asks what part of this account causes a protest?”

“I have a die,” Banfol suggested, but the thing had already been done.

“Because the ship is unsafe. Because it risks Drastlif's reputation. Because relations with Yean Defiafi are important. Because he didn't tell them the process, the reason most of moment.” Loigwin delivered that analysis in such a plain manner as if there were nothing exceptional about it that he was suspected of honesty alone and not of cynicism. “The sun blazes while the moon glows, we all agree. I suppose some of the protest must be spontaneous, but when every rival shipbuilder declares a day off and gives all those hardworking employees a free lunch near the dock, and when several councilors tied up with them do the same, who won't feel pity for the clam soon to be bashed open?” The remarkable thing to the Grenlofers was that Loigwin choked up at the end, authentically so far as they could tell. Takki did as well, which surprised Dirant much less.

“And yet the ship is constructed, is it not?” Banfol asked. “Surely they will not go so far as to, ah, take measures in the middle of the harbor? The wreck would impede traffic.”

“Nothing like that will happen. Well, there is precedent.” The young Nein-Cadops-Bain considered. “The chance is minute.”

“Let your wisdom reach the moon's seas and palaces, Eizesl.” Another guest insinuated himself into the group. “Mikaruvadran Yailt-Fops, by the way. And you?”

Another round of introductions occurred, though this time the newcomer had not known Onerid in his childhood and therefore said nothing on that point. He was around forty, after all, and long established in the commercial world.

“The ship won't burn or wreck, and what is the help in that, if the owner must dispose of it with ax and tooth if necessary? The fuss causes an investigation, the investigation causes the permits of ownership and sailing to be suspended, the suspension is allowed to become permanent through inaction without any official confirmation, but we have senses of our own, not to be fooled.” Mikaruvadran went on to emphasize how shameful was the behavior of those implicated in the incident, and what a reflection on Drastlif, and did the Nein-Cadops-Bains care for their country? He imagined they did. The others imagined he had a financial interest in the Akard-Velgsin shipbuilding enterprise. The incident aroused sympathy for Loigwin; not only must he be prepared to be the subject of wheedling at any time because of his family, but the universal recognition of said family made his earlier clumsiness regarding it more understandable.

Upon reflection, they thought perhaps they ought to have flattered him more themselves when they had the opportunity. Mikaruvadran soon engaged Loigwin in an inescapable conversation with the result that all Dirant, Takki, and Banfol could do was tell Onkallant how the tournament up till then had gone in as much detail as they recalled, which was less than the Sportsman liked. And also tell him what happened to Stansolt. “Something came up,” Dirant explained. That was as much as Onkallant cared to know about that topic at least.

Defeated in both sports and shopping, Takki made her return to the Oskid with nothing more gained than a figurine which depicted a gardener bending over flowers, each with every petal more detailed than sometimes was seen in life. “Semka might like this,” she consoled herself.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Evening suggested to Vigit Pikilif's residents the time had come for the streets to be given a break from their hard work. Nothing close to the all-day activity of GE cities such as Dittsen or even Fennizen went on there, and it was through quiet paths that the travelers returned to their ship after a signature Drastlifan repast involving hunks of things on skewers and a variety of cheeses. The rudeness of the presentation concealed the subtle combinations of flavors as intricate as a set of goslikenar performances.

“I'm sorry that comparison doesn't mean much to me, since I've only been to one so far,” Takki said.

“The problem is susceptible to correction,” Dirant assured her.

Only around the harbor was the city's tranquility disturbed, for it seemed unconscionable to force the ships of distant Choinfa, Tando OHW, or Asau Eoluvieu to wait on the morning to complete their paperwork after they had endured more than a month of travel to bring the treasures of Geft to Egillen. Even that mostly meant a few lights and some dock officials chatting about this poet or that chronicle while on watch. Protests were a strictly daytime activity.

Near the Oskid alone was real work being done. Men, Survyai-looking men with slicked-back hair and tidy mustaches, loaded baggage onto the ship at the direction of a man Dirant recalled seeing on the deck of the controversial ship, though more because an extravagantly braided woman stood near him on both occasions.

The circumstance enlivened Onkallant, who had not been looking forward to a quiet evening aboard a ship too small for the better type of athletic competition. “A transfer in our favor! I must introduce us to our fellow passenger right away. Is something wrong, Mr. Dirant? Has your dinner returned, bent on vengeance?”

Their other companions were startled as well by Dirant's expression of dismay. Takki tried to feel his forehead, but she required either a ladder or cooperation he saw no need to give. “It is nothing so unfortunate as that. Only a young man on the verge of a mistake. Presuming an understanding of Desurvyai on your part, Mr. Onkallant, what is your opinion on the desirability of introducing yourself?”

“Ah! Then you are willing to . . .” Amazed gratitude prevented Onkallant from finishing the sentence, and he followed his senior (in terms of tenure with Stadeskosken alone) after making sure everything was straight and shiny.

Courtesy in Yean Defiafi had as its highest precept that everyone was already universally known, and therefore introductions were only a matter of form. The second-highest held that since the highest was obvious nonsense, important people required introducing. The constant collisions between the two, though unfortunate, had not persuaded society to alter its conventions. It demanded sacrifices instead.

“You must be the charming Miss Desabas Aesyo!” Dirant began from a distance chosen to satisfy two criteria essential to politeness in Yean Defiafi. He was close enough not to have to shout, but far enough that the distance communicated his inability to wait as few as five seconds to make the acquaintance of such a beautiful lady. “I'm pleased to introduce the respectable Mr. Banfol Mektariken, the charming Miss Millim Takki Atsa, the charming Miss Onerid Paspaklest, and of course you know the respectable Mr. Onkallant Paspaklest. Please, Miss Desabas, tell a pitiful man we will not be sharing a ship with you as the situation makes me believe. With such company as this? I will become the first man to perish from nothing but delight.”

There was no room in there for the respectable Mr. Dirant Rikelta. If necessary, which in the case of a sea journey it would be, someone would later mention his name offhandedly. The initiator of introductions ought to be the lowest in social position among the group, and unless Banfol was a secret heir sent out to see the world before he assumed the throne, Haderslant Rikelta's Ritualist son did not qualify. Dirant would always remember his grand sacrifice when he doubted his own integrity. Further, he impressed himself with how Yean Defiafish that speech sounded in his opinion.

It sufficed for Desabas Aesyo. “And so you all are, obviously! Poor man, we will be traveling together. If anything I can do will make the journey less hazardous, I demand you ask. We have experience in this area. You've already heard of the daring Captain Yajagan Shwinz and his wife and my translator here in this wonderful country, the delightful Mrs. Yajagan Shwinz.” Of course nobody had heard of either of them, for which reason Aesyo had included their occupations. The polite thing was to remember without ever noticing.

Both people named by her removed their hats and inclined their heads so far they looked at their own feet for a moment before restoring themselves to their previous attitude. Mrs. Yajagan looked to be of an age with her employer, somewhere in her twenties. She avoided competition with the majestic braid that decorated her mistress, opting to put her blonde hair in a crown braid instead. Mr. Yajagan had a few years on his wife and a goatee on the majority of Defiafis. In his nearly blond hair and reserved mustache he was conventional enough, though other countrymen of his build usually chose clothes with an eye toward achieving a sleek look. This captain was not afraid to be big. Possibly he believed his physique should reflect his position in his ship's chain of command.

“If I may say,” Aesyo said against no opposition whatsoever, “the pleasurable anticipation of conversing a little with anyone, even as poorly fitted with languages as I am, somewhat softens the harshness of the need for the trip. That's to say nothing of how Captain Yajagan must feel, being yanked away from his command before he even took it!”

Dirant bowed and, in line with Yean Defiafi etiquette, acted as if he knew what she meant. He did, but he would have behaved the same either way. “If we can distract such luminaries for even an hour from the impositions of heartless legality, all the philosophical texts in the world will never persuade us about the futility of existence. Is that not so, Mr. Onkallant?”

“It cannot be otherwise,” Onkallant affirmed, whose Desurvyai turned out to be just fine. Probably his was a little better than that of Dirant, who had needed a couple minutes to prepare his two little speeches and was all out of eloquence. “But I'll never be convinced by arguments anyway when meetings like this can happen.”