L. Modesitt - Ordermaster

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Even with the light breeze off the water, the day was clear and hot-but damp. Clearly, the easterlies were remaining strong over the west of Nordla, and the patches of brown on the hills suggested that there had been little rain in recent eightdays. Kharl glanced at the fair weather banner on the pole on the northern outer breakwater-a green oval against a white background, almost limp. The pole itself rose from the tower on the southeastern corner of the north harbor fort. Something about the fort nagged at him. It took him a moment to realize that there was a concentration of chaos there, somewhere behind the walls. It wasn’t the kind that meant awhite wizard was present, but more like one had been there. One of Lord West’s mages? He shrugged. Lord West had both types, and he’d certainly learn soon enough. He hoped he would.

“Those are both forts, aren’t they?” asked Erdyl, glancing from one side of the Seastag to the other, his eyes taking in the two structures that faced each other at the mouth of the harbor-the south fort at the end of one breakwater, and the north fort at the end of the other.

“Those are the harbor defenses. There are two chains that lie on a stone channel under the water. Each chain is attached to a capstan in each fort. When the capstan is turned, it raises the chain, and the chains block the harbor. They used to raise the chains once every four eightdays and inspect them.” Kharl knew that from the year he had served as an assistant to the cooper at the south fort and had been pressed into the work gang that turned the capstan. “I have some doubts that the chains would work that well against the iron-hulled ships of Hamor or Recluce … but those are the harbor defenses.” Kharl could see several figures on the battlement in uniforms he did not recognize-maroon and blue, rather than the blue and burgundy of Lord West’s armsmen. Or had the uniforms been changed since he had left Brysta?

“Would you say that Brysta is somewhat backward?” asked Erdyl.

“Not in most things,” Kharl replied. “Ships and guns and iron cost golds. I don’t think that Lord West wishes to spend them.”

“That’s true,” mused Erdyl. “Golds spent on a ship cannot be spent on food or goods or other things.”

As the Seastag steamed slowly into the harbor proper, Kharl studied the piers, then the city beyond, slowly and carefully. From what he could tell, as the Seastag eased toward the three deepwater piers, only four vessels were tied up. A single schooner was at the outermost of the two coastal wharves. Once fall arrived, almost every berth would be taken.

He looked at the two vessels at the innermost deepwater pier. Both looked to be Hamorian merchanters, although he could only see the ensign on one. He’d have wagered that they were the same pair that Hagen had mentioned.

After several moments, Kharl pointed once more. “You can see that all the piers are north of the River Westlich, except for the ferry pier over there. That’s for folk who want to cross to the southwest road. Costs a copper each way. North of the piers, over there, where all the ragged tents are, that’s the lower market, mostly for poorer folk.” He paused for a moment,thinking of the times that he and Jeka had used his few coppers to buy food there, and the first time when he’d saved her from the white wizard.

“Ser?”

“Oh … just thinking. Over there is the slateyard.” He paused. A new structure had been constructed where the slateyard had been. It looked like some sort of barracks. “It used to be the slateyard. I don’t know what that building is.” After a moment, he went on. “The main road to the harbor is Cargo Road. Most of the low hill to the west here, that’s for crafters and shopkeepers. The grander places are on the east side, overlooking the river and the back bay.”

Furwyl eased the Seastag toward the first ocean pier, empty on the inshore side. “Back her down! Engines full stop! Lines out!”

“Lines out!” echoed Reisl.

The Seastag barely touched the fenders between pier and ship before she was fast to the bollards, the lines doubled up.

Kharl looked at the pier, then toward Cargo Road. Supposedly, the steward at the envoy’s residence was to send the carriage and a baggage wagon to the Seastag. He suspected that they would have to wait for a time. While he knew about where the residence was, he had seldom been in that part of Brysta and did not recall the area, except that it was an older part of the city with large dwellings-not all that far from where he had confronted the first of the white wizards.

Rhylla scrambled up the ladder to the poop deck, said something to Furwyl, who replied and nodded toward Kharl. The second hurried toward the mage. “Lord Kharl … there’s some harbor inspectors headed down the pier. They usually don’t hit so soon.”

“Thank you.” Kharl grinned. “Erdyl and I will stay here, discussing the harbor and the weather.”

“It’s hot and likely to stay so, Lord Kharl. If you would excuse me …”

“Go be friendly to the harbor inspectors,” Kharl suggested, knowing that no ship’s officer cared much for the tariff collectors.

Once Rhylla had headed down to the main deck, ahead of Furwyl, Kharl looked at his secretary. “I don’t think an envoy should worry about inspectors, do you?” He blotted his forehead. Now that the Seastag was tied to the pier, the faint breeze he had felt earlier had vanished.

Erdyl barely managed to keep a smile from breaking out. “Ah … no, ser.”

“How many ships are at the deepwater piers?”

“Four, ser.”

“How many could the piers hold?”

“That would be hard for me to say, ser, but I’d guess three, four times that many, could be more.”

“What do you think about the two closest to shore?”

“They look almost deserted, ser. Are they Hamorian?”

“I’d judge so.”

“Are you thinking ….″ Erdyl glanced in the direction of the quarterdeck, where two men in dark blue tunics stood in the hot afternoon sun, talking to Furwyl. Rhylla stood back slightly from the three men.

“We’ll have to see,” Kharl said.

After perhaps a quarter glass of talking, then going over manifest lists, seemingly line by line, the two harbor inspectors left the Seastag, but one remained on the pier, watching the ship. Shortly after that, a covered carriage painted in green and black and drawn by two grays rolled up the pier. Behind it was an open teamster’s wagon.

“Our carriage has arrived,” Kharl said.

“Let me check, ser.”

Kharl nodded, and Erdyl hurried down the ladder. He was met on the main deck by Undercaptain Demyst. The two made their way down the gangway.

Furwyl made his way up the ladder and joined Kharl. “A carriage yet.”

Kharl almost laughed. There had been a time, not all that long ago, when he’d walked from the piers to his cooperage to save two coppers. “It’s not mine. It belongs to the envoy’s residence, or so they tell me.”

“From cooper to carpenter to mage to lord. All in less than two years.”

“It seems longer.” Kharl didn’t mention the flogging or the time in gaol or the season in hiding. ″Thank you.″ He paused. “What did the inspectors want? Why’s the one waiting?”

“They insist on watching the cargo being off-loaded,” replied the captain. “They didn′t say what they were looking for. Just said that we wouldn’t have any trouble if the manifest was right.”

“Crossbow quarrels and blades, you think? Lances? Rifles?”

“Something like that, I’d guess,” replied Furwyl. “Or maybe iron pigs.”

Kharl nodded. “Could be. There’s no iron in the West Quadrant. Smythal had to buy his rough stock from one of the factors. Came from Reduce or Lydiar, I think.” He also wondered if someone had been toldthat the ship would not arrive-and worried about how it had. Still, it seemed unlikely that the Hamorians would confide in Brystan customs inspectors.

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