The third was perhaps the rashest of them all. Even back then the Archipelago was a place of chaos and unlawfulness and growing up in such an environment is bound to have its effects on anyone, even those as powerful as the Seven. He was the loner, the one who did things his way and did not care much for the others. As such, very little is known of his actions and deeds, but it is safe to say Nokoroy would never have existed if it wasn’t for him.
Excerpt from Rise and Fall of the Seven by Maïz the Wise.
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The deck of the Crossing swayed lightly on the calm waters of the Strait of Aramos, a gentle eastern wind driving them westwards towards Arrowpoint. Finding a ship in Maderah, the town Rida had told them about, had proved to be an easy task; trading between the two ports occurred frequently and it was not uncommon for the trading vessels to take passengers along albeit be it for a small fee.
Two days it had taken them to travel from Tarfama to Maderah. In two days they had crossed a distance that would have taken a full week on foot and going strong at that. Samos could still see Rida’s shocked expression as Asmund and Yara had taken off first before he went after them. He felt sorry for the man, the news of war everywhere had obviously shaken him and the rest of the village.
Yara joined him at the railing, putting her hand on his. “The captain says we should reach Arrowpoint before sunset,” she informed him. They had left Maderah yesterday morning just after sunrise and had been going on a steady pace since, the winds favouring them every mile of the way. “He also told me we have crossed the border of the Archipelago earlier today. His ship might be known in these parts and in general he’s left alone when making the crossing, but we should still be weary.”
Samos nodded. “Even when traveling with Ralph from Sandos to Vorna we kept well clear north of the islands and that’s when we had three ships manned with several Enhancers and other Talented.” No, from now on they would have to be extra careful.
“I can feel it coming closer,” Yara whispered. “With every mile we travel westwards it grows stronger.”
“It won’t be long now,” Samos answered in agreement. “I only fear of where we eventually might end up, looking at the charts the pulling is coming straight from Nokoroy.”
Yara shivered despite the warm weather. “Nobody said this was going to be easy.”
They stood in silence for a while, enjoying the fresh sea breeze toying with their clothes. They had left the Nakin garbs behind in Maderah and traded them in for more common looking outfits. They wore leather trousers and tunics now, plain enough to not attract any attention and allowing them to pass as traders of some kind, the only dead giveaway the swords that hung at their belts.
“Arrowpoint!” a sudden voice called from the crow’s nest and on the horizon, where mountain peaks had already been showing for a while now, a port appeared. As more and more of the city came into view, Samos could see it was nearly larger than Vorna or Sandos had been. Yet it did not have the feeling of a city, he thought. The buildings for a start were nearly all wooden and substantially lower than what he had expected for a port this size. There were no walls surrounding the city nor was there any visible pattern to how the buildings were constructed. His first thought looking at the streets were that of a maze.
“It looks as if people just began building wherever they saw fit,” Yara murmured. “It’s all so… disorganized.”
“It’s no Ters,” Samos agreed. “Best we be on our guards once we dock.”
When they did reach the docks and moored, he had to admit he was surprised by how organized the docks were being handled. Traders and dockworkers were either shouting at each other or carrying goods from one place to the other, but not once did they actually interfere with each other’s work. For a place that carried now law, he concluded, these people were behaving like anywhere else in the world.
“Let’s go,” Asmund called out to them as the gangplank was lowered. “Best we found passage to Whiteharbour or Viridian as soon as possible.”
They followed him onto the dock and into the bustling crowd that consistent mainly of gruff and dirt-stained men who worked wearing nothing more than a pair of trousers. Samos did not have to enhance his nose to notice the smell that lingered in the air, a smell of sweat mixed with that of dirt and a stale humidity. The weather was still warm, but the feeling of the air around them had changed drastically compared to when they had left Maderah. The warmth was more pressing now, forcing him into a sweat underneath the leather clothing.
Behind him, Yara gave a sudden yelp. As Samos turned around, he saw her punching one of the dockworkers in the stomach, sending him flying into the water below. People all around stopped to stare before quickly averting their eyes and scurrying away. Before long the part of the dock they stood on was near-empty.
“He… touched me,” Yara bristled angrily, her hand shaking as the glow of power around it slowly faded away. She was becoming better at focusing it, Samos considered with an inner smile.
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“And now the whole city knows an Enhancer is here,” Asmund grunted as he made his way back to them. He sounded more annoyed than angry. “Come on, let’s go before we attract any more unwanted attention.”
He led them back into the crowd towards the other piers that made up the dock, the looks people gave them slowly lessening as they got further away from where the Crossing was moored. There was one more than one ship docked in Arrowpoint that looked as if it could take them west, but not one of the captains on these ships seemed willing to take them.
“Nobody sails west these days,” was the most common answer they received. “There’s trouble there, even more so now that the Warbringer has sailed north with most of the fleets.”
From what they heard from the different captains, it became clear that chaos reigned in Nokoroy. A man had gathered what had remained of the pirates under him and killed or chased out the forces Ethel had left behind. The grip that the ten pirate lords had held over the city had disappeared however and more than one captain thought he could seize control.
“A man west from here,” Asmund murmured to himself as they left yet another unwilling captain behind. “A man to the west who united pirates under him and chased Ethel’s forces out.”
“Some say he’s a Talented,” Samos answered, following Asmund’s train of thought, “and a powerful one at that.”
“The Conclave made mention of this, remember?” Yara chipped in. “When they held the meeting for all of the city’s citizens.”
Samos gave a short nod. “That news must have been at least a week old at that time, it would seem a lot has changed since then.”
“Be that as it may,” Asmund sighed, “it won’t do us any good knowing that if we can’t go there. We have to find a ship.”
Samos overlooked the part of the harbour they yet had to go over and in the distance, he noticed the larger three-masters he had spotted when first entering the port. “What about those?” he asked and pointed to where the ships were docked. “If anyone was to go west, certainly they would be able to.”
Asmund squinted his eyes. “Strange…” he whispered. “There doesn’t seem to be any activity at all on the dock they’re moored at. There’s hardly anyone there except for on the ships themselves.” He shrugged. “Might as well give it a shot although being honest I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
The closer they got to the ships, the less crowded the docks became until eventually they found themselves walking alone. It seemed as even the sound of the harbour lessened somewhat as they reached the first of the ships. The two men standing guard near the gangplank looked at them with suspicious but surprised eyes. They looked worn-out, their clothes haggard and faces unshaven. Thin cutlasses hang at their belt, the rusted metal reflecting the last sunlight of the evening dimly.
“What’s your business here?” one of them asked as they moved to block their passage across the dock. His voice was weary, harsh and not in the least bit inviting.
“We seek passage west,” Asmund replied smoothly, “to Whiteharbour or Viridian, or beyond if possible.”
“West, eh?” the man quipped. “Looking for an early grave, are you?”
“Our goals are our own,” Asmund retorted calmly, “can you take us there or not?”
The grin the man had held turned into an angry snarl. “You better watch your tongue, lad,” he growled. “Clearly you’re not from around these parts so I’ll give you this once chance to bugger off.” With a quick gesture, he moved his hand onto the hilt of his cutlass and grabbed it without drawing.
Asmund didn’t react to the provocation. “You haven’t answered my question. Can you take us west? Or has fear seized this ship as well?”
With a cry the man drew his sword and swung it towards Asmund’s neck who, in turn, merely held up his hand and stopped the blade with the palm of his hand. Samos could see the soft glow of the seal that engulfed the blade’s metal, but to an untrained eye it would seem as if he had simply stopped the swing with his bare hand.
“Talented,” the man cursed and he tried to retract his sword. The seal however prevented it from moving and only once the man’s grip on the hilt lessened did Asmund release the seal. With a thud, the cutlass fell down and rammed itself into the wooden dock point first.
“I won’t be intimidated, lad,” the man continued. “I’ve killed your kind before.” He drew a dagger from within his sleeve, his companion drawing his cutlass now as well. They did not attack however, only standing ready in guard.
“Somehow I doubt you even met my kind before,” Asmund answered, his voice graver and deeper than it usually was. “I repeat my question. Can you take us west?”
“Why?” a sudden voice came from above them and Samos looked up to see an older man hanging over the railing, his eyes fixated on the group below him. “Even if we go west, why should we take you with us?”
Asmund dug into the pocket of his vest and took out a small piece of taen, no larger than the tip of his finger. “Because if you do take us, good man,” he spoke loud enough to be heard throughout the entire ship, “then this will be yours and again that once we arrive at our destination unharmed.”
The man’s eyes widened in greed as they fixated on the purple taen fragment Asmund held up. A grin appeared on his face. “We sail at sunset, stranger,” he hollered. “Best be on board before then.”
When the mooring lines were loosened and the ship finally left the docks of Arrowpoint, the sun had already disappeared behind the horizon.
“To the west, eh?” the captain, whose name they had learned was Morley, said as he manned the rudder and manoeuvred the ship away from the docks. “Dangerous place these days, even for the Talented.”
“And still you sail there?” Yara inquired. “Is there no fear in you?”
Morley laughed. “Fear, young lady? I don’t fear what awaits us to the west. Should a man be afraid to return to his home?”
“Home?”
“Ay, home,” Morley said, his voice sounding strangely compassionate. “Awful a place as it might be, Nokoroy is and always will be my home. And if for some reason I’d have to flee my home, I would return no matter the cost to reclaim what is mine.”
“Is that why you’re sailing there?” Samos asked. “To reclaim what you have lost?”
Morley nodded. “I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much to become one of the ten pirate lords and Sevens be damned if I’d give it up that easily.”
Oh great, Samos thought and he saw in Asmund’s and Yara’s eyes the same shock. We’ve boarded with pirates.