Don Bassingthwaite - The Binding Stone

Then again, he realized, the wizard probably had enough to explain to the lords of Deneith already.

Singe gave Vennet a level look over top of the letter. “I presume there’s a Kundarak bank in Zarash’ak.”

The captain nodded, barely glancing up from the document. “Storm at dawn, a small one, but big enough for this. You should have said you were in the employ of another House!”

“You would have charged me more.”

“True enough.” Vennet looked up again. “Do you have identification proving you’re authorized to use this?”

Singe flipped the flat case around and passed it to Vennet. There were stiff papers clipped to the inside of it. Geth watch the captain study the writing on them-and saw his eyes widen slightly once again. He handed the letter and the case back to Singe. “That’s in order, then.” He gave the wizard a glance of curiosity. “Etan Bayard. There’s a family named Bayard with large vineyard estates near Fairhaven-”

“No relation,” said Singe briskly as he returned letter to case and tucked both away securely. “Call me Singe.”

He gestured to Geth and Dandra, introducing them as well. If Vennet was surprised by either the shifter or the exotic kalashtar, he gave no indication of it. “You’d best see to selling those horses,” he told them. “We’re almost loaded. The Grithic is a tidal river-we’ll sail for the ocean as soon as the tide is full. There’s a woman named Kirla who runs a stable on Madder Street. Mention my name and she won’t cheat you too badly.”

Singe kept aside a portion of coin from the sale of the horses and they made hasty visits to several shops for supplies, gear, and clean clothes to supplement what little they had ridden away with from Bull Hollow. They made it back to Lightning on Water with only a little time to spare. Vennet was pacing the deck and looking annoyed.

“Took your time, didn’t you?” he said, looking at the small packs that each of them now carried.

Geth growled and tossed a heavy pouch filled with trade strips at him. Vennet’s smile returned quickly enough as he weighed it in his hand, then gestured to a hatch near the bow of the ship. “Stow your gear. You can join the other passengers on deck or stay below when we take speed-it’s your choice.” His smile rose a little. “Welcome aboard.”

He turned away, calling orders out to the ship’s crew. The gangplank that Geth, Singe, and Dandra had just climbed was pulled up; massive ropes were loosened from the pier and drawn aboard. The ship lurched, caught by the river’s current, as the three made their way forward. Geth stumbled and growled.

Singe raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Geth spat, steadying himself.

“It’s occurred to me,” commented the wizard, “that I don’t think I’ve ever seen a shifter on a ship before.”

“I only need to get used to it.” Geth staggered slightly, arms out and legs flexing to maintain his balance. Over the rail, Yrlag began to slip away as Lightning moved out into the river, escorted by smaller boats. “What did Vennet mean by ‘taking speed?’”

“You’ve never been on an elemental galleon before?” asked Singe.

“I hadn’t even seen one before today!”

Singe pressed his lips together as if he was trying to keep from smirking. “You’ll enjoy this.”

Geth snarled at him.

Stairs so steep they were almost a ladder led down into the forward hold. As Vennet had suggested, the ship was almost entirely full-there would be just enough open room, Geth guessed, to spread out the bedrolls they had purchased. He rolled his eyes, though, at the piles of slowly creaking crates and barrels that surrounded them. When Singe led the way back up onto the deck, Geth scrambled up hard on his heels.

It was easy enough to spot the other passengers: they were the only ones standing talking as the crew hustled around the deck. There were half a dozen of them, most merchants by their dress and manner. One man, however, stood out from the others-quite literally. An older half-orc, he was taller than Singe and easily as broad as Geth, with coarse features, stunted tusks, and a grayish cast to his skin. He was also the best dressed of any of the passengers, wearing a fine coat of red silk drawn over a charcoal-gray tunic, and he carried himself with strength and confidence in spite of his age. He was the first to notice their approach and broke off from talking with a thin, hunched man who reminded Geth of a quill pen to greet them.

“Friends!” he called in a booming voice. “Join us! This is Pandon-” He gestured to the hunched man, then spread his arms wide. “-and I’m Natrac.”

“Singe, Geth, and Dandra,” replied Singe smoothly. “A pleasure.”

Natrac reached out to shake hands with all of them, his massive palm making even Geth’s hand look small. A ring with a gaudy red stone too large to be real glittered on one finger. “The pleasure is mine. It’s good to see new passengers come on deck for the start of Lightning’s run.” He slapped Pandon on the back. “I had to drag Pandon here out of his cabin.”

The watery smile on Pandon’s face made it clear that he wished he was still there. Geth looked out at the banks of the Grithic. They were moving past them at a fast pace already, though he wasn’t quite certain how. Yrlag was already a smudge of smoke against the sky upstream. “This seems like a good start,” the shifter commented.

Natrac blinked in surprise, but Singe leaned forward and murmured to him. The half-orc’s eyes went wide and he gaped, “He’s never even seen an elemental galleon before?” He looked down at Geth in disbelief. “Balinor’s stewpot, this isn’t fast! Our captain isn’t drawing on more than a whisper of his mark’s power yet.”

He nodded toward the stern of the ship. Standing on the aft deck before the massive bluish ring, framed by the great beams that supported it, Vennet gripped the handles of a big, ornate wheel and continued to shout out orders. The breeze caught at the twin tails of his hair and his jacket, tugging with playful familiarity at both.

There seemed to be mist streaming off the ring like the condensation of warm breath blown around an icicle in winter. As Geth stared, Singe slapped him on the back. “That ring’s an air elemental-just like the earth elemental Adolan summoned out of the Bull Hole, but bound to the ship. Vennet is controlling it through his dragonmark. It will blow us all the way to Zarash’ak!”

Geth glanced back to the passing banks. “How fast will we go?” he asked.

Natrac’s grin broadened. “Wait and see! It will be a while yet before the river opens up and Vennet can take speed. There aren’t many rivers capable of running an elemental galleon at all. Even on the Grithic we need to be closer to the open ocean.”

“It sounds like you’ve made this trip before,” Dandra said.

“Twice a year at least,” said Natrac. “From Zarash’ak to Yrlag and back.”

The kalashtar looked alarmed. “That must cost you a lot.”

“Hardly anything, really. It’s the price of business.”

“And what business is that?” asked Singe.

“Opportunity, my friend,” Natrac answered. He swept his arms wide again, gesturing to the land around them. “There are always young-and not so young-men and women in these parts who want to leave the backcountry to seek their fortunes in the wider world, but don’t have the means to do so. They agree to enter my service for a time and in return, I provide them with transportation and a livelihood in Zarash’ak.”

“Young people from the wilds looking for adventure,” Singe said. He leaned back against the ship’s rail and gave Geth a blunt stare. “That sounds familiar. Do most of them adjust or do they just end up causing trouble?”