The Jongurian Mission (29 page)

“Fishing is one of the principle industries of Culdovia,” Pader said as they continued further down the wharf.
“Not only does a large portion of Baden’s population eat the lake’s bounty each day, but much of Regidia, Montino, and Equinia as well.” He looked over at Edgyn. “Even some of our catch reaches Portinia where the lake’s southern edge meets the border.”

“Nonsense,” Edgyn scoffed.

Pader only smiled before continuing. “And it’s not only seafood that the lake produces. While you can’t see them here, most of the lakes shores are covered in an assortment of shells. From these the people produce jewelry, buttons, combs, and many other items which find their way all over the provinces.”

Connor turned onto one of the long piers stretching out from the wharf.
Large boats were tied up all alongside of it, their masts towering high above them. Some were long and had two large masts and a dozen sails, while others were smaller, sprouting just one mast and a few sails. They were each painted different colors, with a lighter tone for the majority of the craft and darker for the trimming.

The
Laughing Lady
was painted yellow and had a single mast with sails that could be let down on its front or rear.
Lake Dancer
was blue with two masts and a large bowsprit extending from her prow. Two men sat smoking pipes on her railing and watched silently as they passed by.
The King’s Cousin
was a grey vessel with one mast that also had oars fastened to the inside railings.
River Wisp
was green and had a small mast set near the front of the ship instead of the center, which was taken up by an enormous cabin that covered the whole deck. Men sat on top of it mending nets and sewing sail.

When they began to get near the end of the pier Bryn knew they must be close to the boat which would take them to Dockside.
They passed the
Baden’s Bounty
,
The Sea Horse,
and
Queen’s Delight
before Connor came to a halt in front of the final boat on the pier. The name painted on the side of the bow proclaimed her as the
The Silent Bard
, and she was painted a dark brown and possessed a single tall mast with two square sails furled-up, their edges gently flapping in the wind. A small cabin was set in the middle of the boat just ahead of the mast and a large steering-wheel sat in front of that on the boat’s bow. There was no fancy ornamentation or long bowsprit as there were on some of the other boats; this one seemed built for one purpose only, and that was sailing the lake and bringing up fish. Several long oars were tied up and fastened to the inside railings like Bryn had seen on some of the other boats, with large metal rings spaced out to serve as oarlocks. Several tall fishing poles were strapped to the outside walls of the cabin, as well as a few handled fishing nets. Larger fishing nets were coiled and bunched up on the stern deck.

Connor turned to face them.
“Well gentlemen, this is the boat that will take you down to Dockside. She’s not much to look at, but she’s fast and reliable and’ll see you safely on your way.” He turned back toward the boat and put his hands to his mouth. “Del,” he shouted at the boat, “Del, get yourself on deck, you’re needed.”

They heard some sounds from inside the cabin and after a few moments the door swung open and a short squat man emerged.
He wore the dark blue boot-coverall combination that Bryn had seen in the storefronts leading to the docks, with a grey cotton shirt underneath showing numerous stains. His face sported a half-week’s worth of stubbly beard of dark grey with patches of white around the chin and ears. His grey hair was bunched up under a dirty blue cap which was pulled down close to his small brown eyes. His nose was crooked and looked to have been broken half-a-dozen times, and a pipe smoked from between his thick, chapped lips.

“So this be the lot that I’m to take down to Dockside, eh?” the man asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and placed his hands in his armpits as he stood staring at them.

Bryn was surprised that the king would hire this man and this boat to take them to Portinia.
He had been expecting a grand vessel with many sails and clean, well-dressed men who reflected the grandeur of the crown. Instead they had a dirty old sailor with nearly the worst boat he’d seen on the pier.

“Yes, these are the men that will be accompanying you to Dockside.
Have their possessions arrived yet?” Connor asked.

“Aye, they came early this morning, as did the extra provisions.”

“Good, so you are all set to sail.”

“Not quite yet,” the man said as he walked over to the railing.
“I’m still waiting on me son to bring back a few items we’ll be needing for the return trip. He shouldn’t be long now, though.”

He stood staring at each of them before he decided to take his hand out from under his arm and offer it up to each.

“Del Hoff,” he said in a gravely voice, “and this be me ship,
The
Silent Bard
.” He motioned with his other arm at the boat around him. “She may not be much to look at, but I assure you she’s one of the best on the lake.”

Bryn agreed that she wasn’t much to look at.
The brown paint was peeling in several places and the small windows set into the front of the cabin were all cracked. The wooden decks were becoming warped with age and wear, and a few of the boards had sprung loose from where they were nailed down. Bryn saw countless crustaceans clinging to the outer hull as the boat bobbed up and down in the water, and highly doubted Del’s claim that she was one of the best boats on the lake. Several of the same thoughts seemed to be going through the heads of his companions as he looked from the boat to them, but without much choice in the matter, they walked up the narrow gangplank joining the boat to the pier.

“I’ve got four bunks set up in the main cabin there,” Del said to them as soon as they were all aboard, “but it won’t be enough for all.
Some of you’ll have to put down bedrolls on the deck or on top of the cabin. Me and Cren’ll do the same.”

“That’ll be just fine,” Halam said.
“It’s only for one night.”

“Aye,” Del agreed.
“We should be pulling into Dockside on the morrow.”

They heard loud footfalls coming down the pier toward them, and turned to see.
One of the tallest men that Bryn had seen strode toward them, his huge feet echoing off the wooden boards. He had dark brown hair that hung down shaggily around his face. A half-week’s worth of beard of the same dark brown showed up in patches around his mouth and cheeks, which were long and drawn. He wore the same boots and coveralls that Del wore, although they were slightly cleaner. He carried a large box in his arms with spools of tangled fishing line and netting sticking out.

“Me son, Cren,” Del said as the man got to the boat and easily stepped over the railing and into the boat.

Del’s son gave them a nod, then ducked into the cabin emerging a moment later without the box.
He walked to the rear of the boat and began to undue the ropes that tied them to the pier.

“We can be on our way now,” Del said as he approached the mast and began to untie the ropes that would let down the sail.

“Well, gentlemen, good luck and peace be with you,” Connor said from the pier. He gave them a slight bow and then turned and walked back the way they’d come.

There wasn’t much for them to do besides get in the way, so Halam, Rodden, and Millen went into the cabin to look around, while Pader and Iago took up spots on the back of the boat.
Willem and Edgyn spoke a few words to Del, and were soon assisting him and Cren in letting down the sails and pushing the boat away from the pier with the oars that were tied to the railings. Bryn decided that he would climb to the top of the cabin to sit and watch as they headed out onto the lake.

The early morning sunshine was giving way to clouds and a brisk wind was picking up
as they floated out into the lake. Soon the two sails were full and they were heading south toward the King’s River somewhere off in the distance. Bryn was able to get a much better idea of the enormity of the docks running along the lake when they got out further. They must have stretched half-a-league or more along the water’s edge before giving way to more buildings and eventually the city wall. Baden became smaller and smaller the further they pushed out into the lake, and soon it was little more than a distant dot on the landscape.

There was still no sign of the lake’s edge in front of them, but to the west Bryn could just make out the shoreline, no more than a hazy smudge of color battling with the horizon for appearance.
The boats around them became fewer the further they sailed out into the lake. Most were happy to stay closer to the city to do their fishing. Some of the larger boats with two masts were pushing south with them, perhaps heading to good fishing spots they knew in the middle of the lake. Soon all other boats were distant dots on the horizon and there was nothing more for Bryn to see around him but the blue-black water of the lake. He decided to climb down from atop the cabin and see how the other men were faring.

Del had both hands on the steering wheel in front of the cabin while Edgyn stood next to him, no doubt talking about sailing.
Cren had unfurled a large net at the back of the boat and was busily at work mending tears in it. Pader, Willem, and Iago must have gone into the cabin and Bryn opened the door to head inside.

It was dark when Bryn entered, but his eyes soon adjusted.
The two small windows opposite the door that looked out onto the bow did little to let in light, but one of the men had lit a small lantern which now hung from the ceiling, swaying with the motion of the ship. Two small bunks were built against each wall one atop the other, but they seemed little more than converted shelves. The large box that Cren had carried onto the boat earlier was sitting at the foot of one of the bunks, and many more like it were scattered around the small cabin. Fastened to the middle of the floor was a table with two benches where Halam, Rodden, Millen, and Pader sat. Willem and Iago were both seated on the lower of the two bunks along the walls. When Bryn entered Rodden was speaking.

“It’s enough that we just make our presence known,” he was saying.

“You think that’ll be enough?” Millen said from across the table.

“I don’t see why not,” Rodden replied.
“Right now, they have no idea that we’re coming and therefore there’ll be no way they can agree to anything. They need approval from the emperor for anything to get done.”

“That’s right, Iago said from his spot on the bunk.
“Even if there are imperial representatives still living in Weiling, I doubt very much that they’ll have any authority to officially renew relations.”

“That’s no reason for them not to give us approval to return to Adjuria with permission to trade, though,” Willem said.

“It might be,” Halam answered. “They could tell us to sail home and come back when
they
are ready to hear
us
.”

“I see no reason why we couldn’t then bring trade goods on that return voyage,” Millen said.
“It doesn’t make any sense to keep sailing back and forth to talk about trading when we could be doing it.”

“I agree,” Halam said, “but the Jongurians can be prickly about these things.
It’s best to see what they say when we get to Weiling and take it from there.”

The discussion
continued, but Bryn was becoming bored so headed back outside. Cren was still mending the net, but now Edgyn was steering the boat while Del walked around glumly inspecting the peeling paint all along the boat. When he saw Bryn exit the cabin he came up to him.

“You’re rather young to be heading to Jonguria, ain’t ye?” he asked, the pipe in his mouth moving up and down as he spoke.

“Yes sir, I am. I’m Halam’s nephew. He took me along to Baden for the trade conference, but we had no idea that we’d be heading to Jonguria.” Bryn paused and looked down for a moment before deciding to continue on. “The king decided it would be a good idea for me to come along.”

“Did he now,” Del said, chuckling.
“Well I’m just a lowly fisherman and if the king’s men want me to take you to Dockside with payment up front, then I take you to Dockside, nothing to it.” He grabbed his pipe with his right hand and placed the other under his arm while he leaned back on the railing and sized Bryn up for a few moments. “Ever done any fishing, boy?”

“Well sir, me and a few of the other boys from Eston once put a few lines into the Tillata River one summer.
It was no more than twine tied to tree branches, though, and we didn’t catch anything,” Bryn admitted.

“I’d imagine not.”
Del moved over to the side of the cabin and wedged into the little bit of space there was between it and the railing. He looked over a few of the fishing poles fastened to the side before pulling one down. “Here, try this out for size,” he said, handing Bryn the long pole.

Bryn held it awkwardly in his hands, before Del grabbed the narrow top end.
“This here’s then end that goes in the water, you know that much right?” Bryn shook his head affirmatively. “Good. This here is the reel, and this little switch’ll start or stop the line from running,” he said, pushing the lever back and forth. “Other than that, you just hold the pole and wait.”