Chapter Eleven: Haven Port

Finneas awoke to his brother kicking his back. He wasn't too keen on having to share the bed with Kenelm, especially after the argument. But to save face, Finneas agreed to share. He still didn’t like the idea of his brother and friends travelling to the Riverlands with him. If there was one thing he was certain about, he didn’t want to see Kenelm come to any harm. He didn’t know if he could forgive himself if anything happened to his brother. Finneas was more annoyed at Kistoph and Lochen for overruling him. Although he wasn’t surprised at Lochen’s decision to let the younger kids tag along, he was baffled at why his friend would be willing to put Kenelm and his friends in harm’s way. Kistoph wasn’t the most sensible person, but he usually at least had some sort of common sense.

Gently, Finneas tapped his brother’s shoulder to wake him up. Kenelm groaned a bit, but realising there was light shining through the curtains, Kenelm ceased complaining. Neither boy coped well with mornings. Finneas just hoped the rest hadn’t gotten up yet. To his dismay, his friends were waiting in the common room.

“Why’d you not wake us?” Finneas asked as he approached them.

“Didn’t want to disturb you two,” Mollie remarked. “And you two looked comfortable together.”

“That’s not funny,” Finneas countered. “Anyway… what the time?”

“Time you knew better,” Kistoph jested. While Finneas would usually tolerate his friends’ jokes – he saw them mostly harmless anyway – he wasn’t in the mood today. His frowning face probably said as much. Realising this, Kistoph quickly stopped his tomfoolery. “Sorry…” he admitted. “It’s midday.”

“That late?”

He was taken aback by this comment. If it wasn't for his distaste for violence, Finneas probably would have whacked his friend. Mollie instead impishly slapped Kistoph over his head. Kistoph wasn’t pleased, giving her disapproving stare.

“See,” she commented. “I told you we should’ve woke him up an hour ago.”

“An hour ago?” Finneas was astonished. “When did you guys wake?”

“Do you really want to know?” Mollie answered.

“No…” Finneas confessed. "So…" he changed the topic, "Any news on when this boat's going to leave." The rest of the group shook their heads. "You'd all morning?"

“Kettle calling the pot black,” Mollie remarked. "You could've checked on that stuff this morning… if you were inclined."

Before Finneas could come up with another jibe to counteract her remarks, Lochen approached the table. The Native boy calmly sat down. He didn’t need to say anything for the rest of the group suddenly fall silent.

“Funny how you were saying some boat,” Lochen began to say. “While you were lying about, doing nothing, I did some snooping.”

“Snooping?” Mollie scoffed. “Who uses that word?”

“Well, I happen to overhear some folk,” Lochen continued, ignoring her dig. “There’s a ship arriving tomorrow noon. Talk to a few people. They said the ship will stop off at Bards Port. It’s only a day’s travel to Rivetia.”

“We’ve to wait, then?” Kistoph sounded aggravated.

"So… how much do the tickets cost?" Mollie asked, paying no attention to Kistoph. “Can we buy them now?”

Lochen didn’t reply; not at first at least. The group eagerly waited.

“I don’t think you’ll like this…”

“Like what?” Mollie asked curiously.

“I think I’ve found a way on board,” Lochen explained. “And it sure beats paying the fare. There’s just one catch.” Finneas didn’t like where this was going, either. “The ship’s travelling from the Free Cities… well… some of their keepers have fallen sick… food poisoning or something.”

“You’re expecting us to look after livestock or something?” Mollie probed.

“Highland calves,” Lochen clarified.

Everyone groaned, including Kenelm, who was even an animal lover. Highland calves were notorious for being extremely putrid. The beasts were known to expel out an awful stinky fart. Finneas had heard stories of these creatures. The odours the calves let off were said to be the worst in the known world. It was so foul, that people were known to faint… or worse. No wonder their original keepers had fallen sick.

“I’m not…” Mollie covered her mouth in disgust.

“We’ve no choice,” Finneas finally decided to explain. “How much are the tickets, Lochen?”

“You… you don’t want to know,” Lochen made clear. “It should only be for a few days… three at the most, I think?”

“By the power of the Maker, if I fall sick because of you…” Mollie exclaimed. She didn’t finish her sentence. Whatever the threat she was threatening to dish out, it certainly wasn’t kind.

The room fell suddenly silent. Everyone lingered in their thoughts, probably trying to work out a better way onto the ship. Finneas wondered whether sneaking aboard might be better. Then it dawned on him; what would happen if they were caught. Being both stowaways and fugitives probably wouldn’t look good if a guard or someone happened to discover them. Perhaps Lochen’s plan was ideal. At least there was plausible deniability.

“In my humblest opinion...” Teller said, finally breaking the silence.

“When aren’t your opinions humble?” Mollie jokingly interjected. Kistoph also chuckled, but no one else did. Teller ignored his sister and instead continued talking.

“...may I suggest exploring this town? It is one of the Nine Marvels, after all.”

“What, this lump of wood?” Kistoph asked.

“I read it in a book,” Teller explained. "There are no other towns built in the middle of the ocean. It's pretty impressive, to be honest."

"I sometimes wonder how I'm related to you," Mollie remarked. “But you’re right about one thing, at least. We need to get out, get some fresh air… even if it’s, well, kind of salty.”

Finneas would have preferred to stay inside, where at least where it was warm. Instead, the rest of the group insisted Finneas tag along without quarrel. It would’ve seemed odd if he’d refused. Even Kistoph was eager to explore the town.

Haven Port was built on a sunken atoll. Only during low tide, the submerged surface below could be traversed. Old wooden buildings, a few of them a few stories tall, circled the surrounded a lagoon. The town was kept above water by a series of brick pillars. Whenever a building became so derelict making it practically inhabitable, the structure would be torn down and replaced with something new; again, constructed with wood sourced from the mainland. When he was younger, Finneas remembered seeing discarded planks that the people of Haven Port had tossed away float pass where’d they would go fishing. Finneas always thought it was a waste. He also used to wonder where the abandoned debris landed up travelling. Although occasionally a few planks would wash up ashore, which the young boys of Angluem would help the sailors retrieve for firewood, most drifted southward into the unknown.

A canal that circled the town served as a main mode of transport – small gondolas would ferry people from one place to another. Smaller waterways allowed boats to travel to other places in the settlement, including the open sea. At least a dozen or so bridges connected the town's inner district to its outer sections. Each bridge was expertly crafted – the bridge's walls containing wooden carvings. The town's north side was its harbour district, where large ironclad ships would stop off to refuel and restock. Since there was no ship coming that day, there wasn't any point even going there. Instead, they made their way to the shopping district.

The wares sold at Haven Port's marketplace were no different than the stuff found back at Angluem. Teller was disappointed there was no bookstore, or even a library, while Mollie complained there were no stores selling fabric. She had made it clear she hoped to at least inspect the fine linen. Finneas was able to buy replacement shoes; some old boots an old fisherman didn't need anymore. He was glad he didn't have to walk around barefoot anymore. And wearing a pair of boots was a massive improvement over the sandals he formerly owned. Finneas did come across a stall selling fishhooks. But after inspecting the fishhooks, it was quite apparent they were rusted. Finneas smartly declined to buy. He was sure he'd find better gear once he arrives in Rivetia City.

It quickly dawned on Finneas that his brother had disappeared. He looked around to see if he could find him. He approached his friend; Kistoph was unaware Kenelm was nowhere to be found. Perhaps Mollie or Teller knew, Finneas considered.

“Not sure,” Teller remarked when asked. “I thought he was with you?”

This wasn’t the question Finneas was hoping for. He was about to turn around to continue searching when Mollie tapped him on his shoulder.

“Your brother said he went to the dock,” Mollie explained. “Not sure why, but it seemed important.”

“Dammit!” Finneas cursed. “How long ago was this?”

“About five minutes, I think.”

Not only was Finneas angry at his brother for disappearing without telling them, but he was also angry at himself. He probably should've kept a better eye on Kenelm. He quickly strolled to the town’s harbour district, Mollie following in toe.

Finneas found his brother talking to an old sailor. The man was in his late sixties or so; his wrinkled skin was quite noticeable. The moment his brother realised Finneas was approaching, he quickly made a quick dash. Finneas was easily able to catch up with his brother. He grabbed hold of Kenelm, pulling the younger boy aside.

“Dammit!” Finneas yelled. “Why don’t you listen?”

“I do listen!” Kenelm retorted. “Maybe if you paid attention, you might realise things aren’t cosy. I helped you back there.”

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“The bison?” Finneas couldn’t believe what his brother was saying. He’d made it quick clear he didn’t approve of Kenelm’s actions. “You could’ve got yourself killed.”

“I didn’t, did I?”

“You didn’t… but you… you killed ma.”

Again, Finneas didn’t mean to say that. It was something only Finneas, his brother, and the matron knew. Despite her horribleness, the matron never used this against them. He wasn’t sure why he mentioned it now. Nonetheless, it turned Kenelm red with anger. His brother was about to hit him in a fit of anger. Instead, however, Kenelm dashed away.

This time, he didn’t bother chasing after him. Instead, Finneas turned to his friend, hoping to find sympathy. The disapproving frown on Mollie’s face made him quickly realise just how much he had messed up. He didn’t mean to be so aggressive at his brother; it just happened. He was glad his sudden outburst only occurred in front of Mollie. She wasn’t the type of person to blabber out people’s secrets, especially stuff like that.

“Kenelm killed someone," Mollie explained. "Back in the forest. Someone kidnapped him and my brother. Kenelm didn’t have to-”

“It’s my fault,” Finneas replied. “I… I didn’t know. It wasn’t right… To say that.”

"He thinks you killed those guards too," Mollie responded.

Finneas remembered how his brother was able to retrieve his backpack. It suddenly dawned on him Kenelm would’ve seen the body. The other guard must’ve not removed it. A feeling of disgust came down on Finneas; the thought someone could so be careless to leave another person there to die.

“It wasn’t me,” he explained. “It was the Native boy, Lochen. We’d no choice… and I’m sure my brother didn’t, either.”

While Finneas would have ideally returned to the market, acting as if nothing had occurred, the stern disapproving stare on Mollie’s face spurred him to look for his brother. Kenelm mustn’t have gone far, he decided.

They found Kenelm sitting in the common room by himself. He was cross-legged, reading one of Teller’s books. The younger boy looked as if he’d cried a thousand tears. Although the sobbing has ceased, the stains of water still covered his face. There were even a few damp drops on the paper.

“You okay?” Finneas asked. His brother didn’t respond. He barely even responded. Kenelm stared blankly at the book; quite obviously not reading it.

The room was uncomfortably quiet. The only audible noise was the fireplace crackling. The atmosphere felt unnatural and intense. Common rooms were meant to be places for people to relax. Kenelm's sombre mood sucked out all the joy, it felt.

“I’m… eh, well… sorry,” Finneas gulped, swallowing what little pride he had. He did mean it. "What I said, I didn't mean to…"

His brother didn't respond. Kenelm didn’t even attempt to look at him.

“You’re no killer,” Finneas continued. “I know you’re not. You’re a good person. Whatever happened… it was a mistake.”

"I had a choice," his brother softly choked. "I wish… I wish I'd never been born. None of this would've happened. Ma wouldn't be…" Kenelm let the words drift off, not even attempting to finish his sentence.

Finneas didn’t try to respond. He simply hugged his brother – even if Kenelm didn’t want to be hugged – before leaving to find the rest of his friends. He briefly returned to the market, hoping to find them. They’d already left before he’d arrived; so, Finneas decided to return to the inn. He waited outside since he wasn't eager to confront his brother again. The rest of the group returned about an hour or so later. Kistoph had bought new hooks for his fishing gear – the golden metal sparkled cleanly. He seemed proud of his purchase. Teller had bought a new book – the tome still had its dustjacket. The book probably cost a fortune, however, Teller insisted he’d got it on sale. Finneas didn't bother to probe him further; instead of taking him at his word.

“We went to the docks,” Kistoph said. “After we got bored of shopping, you know. Turns out that ship ain’t coming till the morning. Kind of disappointed.”

His friend asked Finneas why he was sitting outside when he could've been inside near the fireplace. Finneas refused to respond, besides mentioning there was a conflict between his brother and him. There was no point delving into it further. While his friends went inside, Finneas remained outside. He watched as travellers walk past – rich and old, sailors and tradesmen. Haven Port was certainly a melting pot of some sort. People from all reaches of the world travel through here, whether for work or leisure.

Dusk soon arrived; the sun setting in the east – Finneas could barely grasp the mountain ranges of the Estmere region. Constellations began to appear. There was a few Finneas had never seen before. Back in Angluem, the smoke-filled chimneys from the many factories that dotted the city would cover the sky with a greyest brown fog, obscuring the clouds. It was only during Bell-Time, that the factories would close, allowing for the clear sky to be revealed. Finneas and the rest of the orphans would sit on the roof gazing at the stars. They would speculate what the stars were. One kid, a few years older than Finneas, insisted the stars were punctures in the sky created by the goddesses of the Sanland. Another kid would say the stars were long-dead spirits reincarnated into glow flies. Teller, as usual, would refute all these claims. Finneas remembered Teller once telling him the stars were giant burning balls of gas floating a trillion or so miles away. Finneas always preferred the mythical explanation.

Haven Port had no factories, so the sky was much clearer. Finneas could finally glance at stars he only heard about from sailors and other travellers. Finneas was so enhanced by the night sky, that he was unaware Mollie was standing behind him. He hated how Mollie could sneak up on someone without them even noticing. She insisted it always came naturally, but Finneas pondered whether she practised without telling.

“You worry too much,” Mollie observed.

“I worry because I care,” Finneas confessed. He was aware of his biggest flaw. She was right, he worried too much. “I hate seeing people get hurt. I don’t want my brother to get hurt.”

“He won’t.” Finneas wasn’t sure why Mollie could say that so confidently. Before he could respond, Mollie continued. “At least give him… give us credit.”

“Credit for what?”

“We reached Hilding by ourselves,” she explained. “We didn’t need no grownup to tell us what to do.”

“You were captured, though?” Finneas rebutted. He’d already heard what happened. Smugglers got hold of his brother and friends. He couldn’t imagine what their capturers what have done to them if they’d not escaped.

“We got away…” Mollie defended herself. “Well… I got away.” She paused for a moment. “But we made it out alive. At least that should count?”

“You almost got yourselves killed...” Finneas exclaimed. “Why should I be congratulating?”

She was pulling at straws, and she knew it. Mollie stood up, defeated. With a stern frown on her face, she left. Although what he said sounded harsh, it was the truth. His brother and friends had put themselves in danger. He might worry a lot sometimes. But there was a reason for the concern. He just wished everyone else would understand.

The air quickly chilled. With each breath Finneas made, he could feel the warm exhale conflict with the cold air. It was probably best to go back inside, Finneas thought. He wasn’t too keen to do so, in case he caused further conflict, but he didn’t want to catch a fever or worse. Returning to the common room, he found it practically empty besides two sailors playing a game of cards. In the corner sat Kistoph, who was throwing pints of sand into the fireplace, causing the flame to burst alive. Finneas sat down beside him, relishing in the heat.

“The rest gone to bed?” Finneas asked.

“Something like that,” Kistoph answered. “I think they’re still awake. Or at least they were the last time I checked. Teller's probably still a knee-deep in one of his books."

“Knowledge is power, I suppose.”

“I heard you… well… pissed off Molls,” his friend remarked. “Whatever you said, you pulled her into the shame foul mood of your brother.”

“I may have said a few unkind words…”

“I think you’re being silly, to be frank,” Kistoph responded bluntly. “If Molls, Teller, and Kenelm were in any trouble, I wouldn't have agreed to allow them to come. You understand?"

“Maybe you’re right… I dunno,” Finneas opened up honestly. “But I am allowed to worry, ain’t I?”

“If you keep worrying like that you’ll land up as one giant ulcer. Don’t think too much of it… that’s my advice. Talk to you brother. Make amends. We’ve got a long journey ahead. We shouldn’t be spending most of it bickering.”

“You’re right…” Finneas responded, still uncertain if he believed his friends, let alone trust his advice. “I’ll say sorry to Kenelm tomorrow… don’t want to… well… wake him up now.”

“You could do it now.”

“Nah…” Finneas was procrastinating. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Finneas wasn’t too eager to return to the bedroom. He wasn’t too keen to confront either Mollie or Kenelm if they were still awake. Once Kistoph retired, Finneas remained in the common room. The sailor soon finished their game, before leaving the room. He heard one of the sailors mention a ship, which Finneas assumed was the boat arriving tomorrow. The room was finally empty, allowing Finneas to think for a bit by himself. The silence felt eerie – besides the crackling from the fireplace. He usually liked the quiet. But this felt weirder; like he was truly alone. The innkeeper briefly entered, querying why Finneas was still awake – it was almost midnight. Finneas explained, trying his best to keep his story brief; and the innkeeper left.

Reminisce of the day before, Finneas was awakened by someone kicking him. He'd spent the entire night sleeping on one of the couches. He was surprised just how comfortable it was. He wished he could sleep maybe for another hour or two. There was another kick, this one stronger.

“You’re gonna get up?” Mollie's voice said, demandingly.

The group ate their breakfast hastily; quickly gulping each bite. The innkeeper’s wife was kind enough to cook up some eggs. The meal tasted extremely good. Finneas was regretful he had to eat it so fast. He made sure to thank the woman, however – she reminded him of Nance back at home.

Although the ship docked early in the morning, they didn’t need to be there till midday. Having made sure that they’d packed everything; the group made their way to the docking area. Arriving, the kids were greeted by a gigantic sailing megastructure. The ship was bigger than any they had seen before. Anguem rarely got big ships; the ones that did dock in the harbour were at least half the size. The structure loomed above them. The ship was at least six, maybe seven, stories tall. The ship was built entirely of iron. Thousands of rivets bolted the boat together. Three giant funnels towered even further into the sky: greyish smoke pouring from their chimneys.

Near the bow on the starboard of the ship, a large gangway allowed passengers to board. Those in first-class were already beginning to board. There weren't that many people getting on – those who had already boarded had done so already back in the Sanlands. The few who were embarking most likely came from the free city. Smaller boats would occasionally sail here to drop off a few passengers before making their journey to the Sanlands.

Finneas took a good look at all the first-class passengers. Most were wearing robes – the customary regalia of the free folk, although some appeared to be wearing suits and ties, more akin to the Imperials. The few women waiting to board wore pretty dresses, all sorts of different colours. Around their necks were glittering golden jewellery – Finneas couldn't imagine how much they cost. The newly arrived passenger quickly made their way across the gangway, as if they were doing double-march. The sight was rather amusing, but Finneas decided not to laugh in case he drew attention.

For a moment, Finneas thought he'd seen someone familiar. At first, he didn't recognise the person. But then it suddenly dawned on him. One of the passengers boarding the ship was Lucien, the Sensor apprentice they'd meet back in Angluem. He wasn't wearing his cream-coloured cloak, and instead wore casual clothes. Lucien was most likely trying to blend in; he certainly appeared not to be wanting attention.

Above observing the passengers boarding, Finneas could see a figure. He was unable get a good glance at the person – he was too far away – but Finneas could tell the man was predominantly staring at Lucien. The man wore what appeared to be fine silk, a robe most likely bought in the Sanlands. The desert-dwelling people always wore clothes like this. The man, however, was clearly not from the Sanlands. He had a painfully pale appearance. His jet-black hair was gelled back, like how Angleum’s mayor would do his. Not even the people from the House of hal-Shogal had skin so light. The man's presence felt unnerving – Finneas simply couldn’t say why, however. Lucien reached the ship's deck. He approached the man, shaking his hand. The two embraced, before disappearing.

Finneas was so fixated on examining the Sensor apprentice's every movement, that he was unaware Mollie was pulling his jumper to get his attention. Realising this, he turned around to apologise.

“You coming?” she asked. “The rest are about to board.”

It dawned on Finneas that his friends were gone, besides Mollie. Before Mollie could nag him to hurry up, Finneas quickly made his way over to his friends. Lochen was talking to a large fella – not only was the man at least seven feet tall but he was also rounded like a pear. The sailor's belly flopped forward shamelessly.

“So ya’re the runts?” the man remarked. “I hope Petro knows what he’s get’n himself into…” the man began to mutter – Finneas was barely able to understand. “…come ‘board. Mind yer step… and watch yer head. We don’t need you get’n brain damaged now.”

The group made their way up a smaller, narrower, planked gangway, leading into the ship’s stern. Finneas had been on a boat before, but they were far smaller. He couldn’t believe how calm the boat was. The ship seemed to barely move an inch. The boats he boarded back in Angluem would always sway back and forth, causing Finneas to feel rather seasick. Once everyone was inside, the man turned to face the group.

“Yer cabin down the hallway,” the rather large man said. “It’s a bit cramp – ya’ve been warned. And I hope yer not ‘fraid of the dark. We don’t want scaredy-cats now, do we?”

Grabbing hold of the ironclad door, the man powerfully slammed it shut, engulfing the hallway into darkness. It wasn’t the darkness that worried Finneas; it was the awful smell. Finneas gulped, wondering what he'd got him and his friends into.