She noticed the subtle frown on his face. He saw it register in her eyes. “Let’s go a little farther,” Hettie suggested quietly. “I don’t like being exposed on the hill like this. Let’s go down to the woods before it gets too dark.” She stood and offered him her hand.
Paedrin stared at it, feeling the swell of difficult emotions that always threatened tears. She was recognizing his moods now. When he wanted to banter. When he wished for silence. He gripped her hand and let her pull him to his feet. She then tugged on her boots and swung the pack around her shoulder. As they started down the hill, side by side, he felt her hand graze his. Part of him wanted to reach out and hold it, to cling to her grip like a rope to save himself from drowning in grief. He rebelled against that part of himself, the part that felt reassured by her presence. He needed to clear his mind.
Yet Paedrin struggled against the thoughts and emotions that kept flitting like inside him like a hive of enraged bees.
The following afternoon, Paedrin and Hettie studied the port city for a long while. From a secretive vantage point within the woods, they learned what they could from the safety of the forest. It was the strangest looking place Paedrin had seen. He had been impressed by the mountain towers of the Cruithne in Alkire. Silvandom, of course, had a special place in his heart with its majestic trees and stone-fashioned homes. Kenatos was a thriving civilization sprawled atop an island lake from end to end. Havenrook, on the other hand, was a painful memory and a place he never dared venture again—knowing that if he did, he would school the entire city in a lesson of pain. Yet he knew, by his Bhikhu training, that even scourging the city would not assuage his guilt.
Lydi was a city made entirely of sailing ships and a patchwork maze of docks and harbors. There were no warehouses or inns or taverns, yet the ships became all of these. Rather than constructing new buildings, the surplus of unused vessels had become the means for providing shelter and storage. The streets were the docks. Some ships had their hulls breached, and scaffolding and steps erected to provide entrances. Most hung with signs, featuring whether it was an inn, or a smithy, or a stable.
The population of Lydi, it seemed, had dwindled over the years. Derelict ships were everywhere, with no signs of life at all. During the time they spent observing, only four or five ships approached, all from the north, and docked in the harbor. There were people milling about in the town, but it seemed most kept indoors. Some of the ships were enormous galleons that had crossed the wide seas. Others were more humble vessels, only one mast instead of three or five. There were seagulls, of course, flitting above the town. Gulls were plentiful in Kenatos as well. Paedrin rubbed his chin, staring at the city.
“What have you noticed?” he asked Hettie.
“The woods have been cleared on purpose,” she said thoughtfully. “They don’t want to be approached unawares. I imagine they have lookouts all around the perimeter. I cannot make much sense of the arrangement of the ships. There are large ones and small ones jumbled together. That one over there is listing dangerously. I doubt anyone lives there. My advice would be to approach after dusk where it would be difficult to spot us coming.”
Paedrin folded his arms. “Then what?”
Hettie glanced at him. “I would look to find a Vaettir first. A Bhikhu would be my first choice if we could find one.”
“Because…?”
“Because they would be the most honest in their intentions. If we are hunted by the Arch-Rike, they would try to arrest us quickly. No games. We’d know where we stood. They would also be the ones most likely to know of the Shatalin temple.”
“True,” he pointed out. “I noticed those things as well. What surprises me most is what I do not see. Very few people compared to the structures. The lack of trading. The place seems…sullen.”
“That’s a good word for it. The city has a strange feeling, doesn’t it? It isn’t lively, like Havenrook. It feels…depressed.” She hesitated at the word and he knew why.
Paedrin stared at the city. “I agree. It does not feel like a flourishing town. It is decaying. So therefore, I propose we do the opposite of what you say. We enter the city now, in daylight. We enter a tavern or place to eat. Try to be gone before dusk. It may be a place, like Kenatos, that gets more lively, and by lively I mean drunk, after nightfall. I don’t want to wait out here any longer. Let’s go. If we don’t learn about Shatalin quickly, we leave and make our way south along the coast.”
She grabbed his arm. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
Paedrin stared at it, feeling the swell of difficult emotions that always threatened tears. She was recognizing his moods now. When he wanted to banter. When he wished for silence. He gripped her hand and let her pull him to his feet. She then tugged on her boots and swung the pack around her shoulder. As they started down the hill, side by side, he felt her hand graze his. Part of him wanted to reach out and hold it, to cling to her grip like a rope to save himself from drowning in grief. He rebelled against that part of himself, the part that felt reassured by her presence. He needed to clear his mind.
Yet Paedrin struggled against the thoughts and emotions that kept flitting like inside him like a hive of enraged bees.
The following afternoon, Paedrin and Hettie studied the port city for a long while. From a secretive vantage point within the woods, they learned what they could from the safety of the forest. It was the strangest looking place Paedrin had seen. He had been impressed by the mountain towers of the Cruithne in Alkire. Silvandom, of course, had a special place in his heart with its majestic trees and stone-fashioned homes. Kenatos was a thriving civilization sprawled atop an island lake from end to end. Havenrook, on the other hand, was a painful memory and a place he never dared venture again—knowing that if he did, he would school the entire city in a lesson of pain. Yet he knew, by his Bhikhu training, that even scourging the city would not assuage his guilt.
Lydi was a city made entirely of sailing ships and a patchwork maze of docks and harbors. There were no warehouses or inns or taverns, yet the ships became all of these. Rather than constructing new buildings, the surplus of unused vessels had become the means for providing shelter and storage. The streets were the docks. Some ships had their hulls breached, and scaffolding and steps erected to provide entrances. Most hung with signs, featuring whether it was an inn, or a smithy, or a stable.
The population of Lydi, it seemed, had dwindled over the years. Derelict ships were everywhere, with no signs of life at all. During the time they spent observing, only four or five ships approached, all from the north, and docked in the harbor. There were people milling about in the town, but it seemed most kept indoors. Some of the ships were enormous galleons that had crossed the wide seas. Others were more humble vessels, only one mast instead of three or five. There were seagulls, of course, flitting above the town. Gulls were plentiful in Kenatos as well. Paedrin rubbed his chin, staring at the city.
“What have you noticed?” he asked Hettie.
“The woods have been cleared on purpose,” she said thoughtfully. “They don’t want to be approached unawares. I imagine they have lookouts all around the perimeter. I cannot make much sense of the arrangement of the ships. There are large ones and small ones jumbled together. That one over there is listing dangerously. I doubt anyone lives there. My advice would be to approach after dusk where it would be difficult to spot us coming.”
Paedrin folded his arms. “Then what?”
Hettie glanced at him. “I would look to find a Vaettir first. A Bhikhu would be my first choice if we could find one.”
“Because…?”
“Because they would be the most honest in their intentions. If we are hunted by the Arch-Rike, they would try to arrest us quickly. No games. We’d know where we stood. They would also be the ones most likely to know of the Shatalin temple.”
“True,” he pointed out. “I noticed those things as well. What surprises me most is what I do not see. Very few people compared to the structures. The lack of trading. The place seems…sullen.”
“That’s a good word for it. The city has a strange feeling, doesn’t it? It isn’t lively, like Havenrook. It feels…depressed.” She hesitated at the word and he knew why.
Paedrin stared at the city. “I agree. It does not feel like a flourishing town. It is decaying. So therefore, I propose we do the opposite of what you say. We enter the city now, in daylight. We enter a tavern or place to eat. Try to be gone before dusk. It may be a place, like Kenatos, that gets more lively, and by lively I mean drunk, after nightfall. I don’t want to wait out here any longer. Let’s go. If we don’t learn about Shatalin quickly, we leave and make our way south along the coast.”
She grabbed his arm. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
