Kastali Dun

Bennett drained his tankard of ale and slammed it on the table harder than intended. A belch erupted from his chest. He let it loose, pounding his sternum with a fist. Nearby drinkers lifted their tankards and cheered.

The night was nearly over, and it had been a rowdy one. While all the pretentious nobles were up in the castle having their fancy dance, all the common folk were drinking away their worries on cheap ale. He wasn't necessarily poor as far as poor went. He made a decent living as a merchant captain—quite decent after the king had paid him for the transport of precious cargo from up north. But a good deal of what he made was often spent on the meager entertainment he could scrounge up landside.

"Beggin' your pardon, Captain, but there's a woman says she's here ta see ya." The bar wench leaned over the table to collect his tankard. "You'll take another, I presume?" He nodded. "Good. So...the woman. Shall I send her over?"

"I'm not looking fer a bed tonight," he growled. What was it about ship captains? Perhaps word got around. He always paid his women well.

"Oh!" Morita laughed. "I don' think she's peddlin' herself that way."

"Then who is she and what the damn hell does she want, eh? I'm not in the mood for antics tonight." He followed Morita's gaze across the room. His eyes landed on a cloaked woman. She sat alone at a table, her head down. Entirely out of place.

"Humph. Don't look like anyone I know. I'm not lookin' fer business tonight," he said, slurring his words, and turned away.

"Give her a chance, hmm? She paid me well to come and talk to you. Seems pretty desperate. I'll send her over."

"Ugh, woman! You're bold tonight. Fine. Send her over so I can send her away." He gritted his teeth as the tavern walls around him tilted and lurched back into place. Morita disappeared, heading for the bar to refill his mug. She stopped beside the cloaked woman and whispered something in her ear. The woman glanced in his direction before nodding. She rose and came over. At least she had succeeded in piquing his curiosity. He pulled out the chair beside him. She took it.

"Captain Bennett?" Her voice was low. She glanced around before turning back.

He tried to make out her face under the shadowed hood. She was young.

"Aye. I'm he. Who's asking?"

"I am."

"Obviously, girl. That's not what I meant. What do you want?"

"I heard that you are the best merchant captain in Dragonwall. I'm looking to transport valuable merchandise north."

"Valuable merchandise?" His eyes narrowed. "How far north?"

"Ice Port."

"Gods, girl! What the hell do you need to take up there? There are plenty of adequate merchant captains. I can refer you to a few if you like...for a price." He eyed her. Her cloak alone would fetch a pretty steely.

She tutted. "I came to you for a reason, Captain Bennett, not a referral. I seek discretion."

"Right. For your valuable cargo." He snorted. "Of course. Tell me what it is, and I might consider it."

"I can see there's no lying to you." She crossed her arms. "The cargo is me."

He threw back his head and roared. "Valuable cargo indeed!" Tears leaked out of his eyes. Gods! This woman!

Morita chose that moment to bring his refill to the table. He took up the mug and drank before returning his attention to the matter at hand.

"I don't operate a passenger ship, girl. You'll have to try elsewhere."

"I can pay well." She removed a sack of coins from beneath her cloak and dropped it on the table. It clinked.

"Are you daft?!" he hissed, swiping the bag out of sight. She sucked in a breath. "Don't you know where we are? A bag of coins like this will get you kidnapped, robbed, or worse..." He tossed it back to her under the table and glanced around. No one was looking in their direction.

A flutter of wings sounded overhead. Beaky flopped down on the table, squawking. The woman shrieked and toppled backward in her chair. The clattering brought the tavern to silence. Everyone around them burst into laughter, watching Beaky as she hopped from foot to foot on the table, cawing at the woman on the floor. He joined in, bellowing. "Now, now, Beaky. Don't frighten the poor girl." His scolding was only halfhearted. He didn't bother helping her off the ground, nor righting her chair. He was no gentleman, after all. And a noble woman like her—for he was certain she held some sort of title—was probably used to all manner of simpering and fussing. She would get nothing from him.

She sputtered and rose from the ground. "Is that...does that thing bite?" she asked, righting and returning to her chair.

"That thing has a name. And you'd best not insult her or she just might." He reached out and stroked Beaky on the head, but Beaky scooted out from under his hand and stepped away.

"Pretty girl. Pretty girl," Beaky chanted. "Scared. Scared, pretty girl."

"Shoo! Shoo." He swatted at her. "Away with you, you godsdamned bird." Beaky gave a final squawk and leapt from the table, returning to the tavern's rafters. "Now..." He turned to the woman.

"Right." She brushed the wrinkles from her cloak, picking at specks of dirt on her sleeves acquired from the rushes about the floor. "As I was saying. I can pay well. One hundred gold dragons now. One hundred when we reach Port Ice. That's a handsome sum considering you're headed north anyway."

"Why in the gods' hell do you want to go up there? You got some kind of death wish or somethin'? Curious about the Dwargs?" He hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Tell me you at least know there's Dwargs up there, among other things. The North is a harsh place, girl. Plus, rumors that Fort Squall's been taken. We'd have to pass by that way along the coast. They say there's dragons there—wild dragons."

She tutted. "I know what a Dwarg is, Captain Bennett. I might be rich but I'm not ignorant." She hesitated. "We can steer clear of Fort Squall. I wish to go to Port Ice."

"Yes, yes. You've made that clear, but you haven't said why."

"My business is my own." Beneath the hood of her cloak, her mouth pulled into a frown.

He sighed, thinking it over. One hundred gold dragons now and a hundred later was a fine price, especially since he already had a heavy cargo to take along the coast, though not as far north as Port Ice, but what were a few additional leagues in the grand scheme of things?

"Hmm..." He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. It was sticky with old drink. "Shouldn't you be up at the keep? Enjoying the tourney ball with the rest of them nobles?"

"I left there to come here. And don't change the subject. Port Ice."

"Aha! So you are a noble then." He leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back legs, proud of himself. "What's your name, girl?"

"You really think I'd tell you?" she huffed. "Will you take me? Or shall I go find another merchant captain?"

"I thought you said I was the best?" He fought the smug smile pulling at his lips. Gods, this girl was easy to taunt.

"How dare—" She stopped herself, glancing around to see if anyone noticed her hiss.

"Careful, girl." This one had claws. "You may be a noble up at the top of that hill there." He waved his arm. "Down here, with that cloak on, you're nobody, especially once you hand over that sack of gold and get on my ship. Now...what should I call you?"

"Does that mean you'll take me?"

"Hmm...Bad business, brinin' a woman on board." He lifted his tankard to his lips and finished what remained. "I can't answer for my men's behavior. They don't usually get pretty lasses like you to eye while they work. Last thing I want is to be pulling 'em off you at every damned moment of the night."

She squared her shoulders. "I don't think you need to worry about that. I can take care of myself."

He snorted. "Riiight."

"Fine." She scooted her chair out to leave.

"Oh, sit down!" He slammed his fist on the table. "Give me your name. I'll take you."

Her posture relaxed as she sank back into the chair. "You...can call me Cat."

"Cat...Hmm. Very well, Cat. Tell me, what are you runnin' from, eh?"

"What did you say?"

"You're obviously runnin' from something, or someone, else you wouldn't be so eager to broker passage with me. A man, perhaps? Your husband?"

"I'm not married." She said this almost too quickly.

"Ah, well, guess that's your own business even if you were. Very well then. I'm planning to leave at dawn. You're lucky you caught me." He rose to leave. "The gold?"

She hesitated, placing the sack into his open palm. "Where...where can I find you, Captain Bennett?"

"Lady Faith is docked in the bay. You'll meet my first mate, Jonah, at the dockyard at sunrise, Pier Twelve. Shorter fellow, good lookin', better lookin' than me, that is." He turned from her, looking up at the rafters. "Beaky! We're leaving, you damned bird. I need some sleep."

Beaky fluttered to his shoulder. "Pretty girl. Pretty girl."

"Shut it." He placed a few silvers in Beaky's beak. "Take that to Morita. There's a good bird." Beaky took flight and dropped the coins at the bar before returning to his shoulder.

He looked at Cat, still sitting at the table. "See you in the morning," he said, a wide grin splitting his lips. This woman had no idea what she was getting herself into.

He staggered back to his room at the Brickyard Inn, removed his boots and belt, and collapsed onto his bed. He'd regret his drinking in the morning, as he always did. Life was too short to be cautious at his age. Perhaps when he hit forty, but until then. With another voyage ahead of him, and numerous days spent on the sea, what was a little indulgence?

"Argh!" He woke at dawn with a splitting headache. Beaky was on his chest, pecking him awake. "Argh! All right! All right! Blasted bird. I'm up!"

"Wakey wakey," she cooed. "Wakey wakey. Wakey wakey. Wakey—" Swak!

"I get it!" he snapped, swatting her away to sit up, taking it slow. His hands flew to his temples. "Argh!" He groaned again. Every attempt to massage the pain away failed. There was a heavy lump in his trousers. He looked down at the bulge in his pocket. Gold. Lots of gold.

Memories from the night before swam into his mind's eye. The woman. Cat.

"Think she'll show?" he asked, looking over. Beaky was at the window, fluttering around with impatience. The bird was well trained and knew to do her buisness out of doors. She even did most of her foraging alone, though she still relied on him for certain...luxuries.

"Right...all right. Just a moment." He reached into the canister at his bedside table and produced a handful of nuts and dried berries for her. She pecked each one delicately from his palm like a little lady before fluttering back to the window. He gave her an affectionate stroke along her back, chuckling. She was out the moment he cracked the window open. "Find me later," he called to her. "And don't be late. We leave with or without you.

All he received in return was a squawk.

A knock sounded at the door. "Enter," he called, fastening his sword belt and other belongings, pulling on his boots.

Laura, the servant girl, peeked in before opening the door wider. He'd seen her most mornings. "Water for you, sir."

"Well, bring it in then." He stood to gather the remainder of his things. "That's a good lass. Thank you. I'll be checking out this morn' if you wouldn't mind letting Marcy know."

"Aye, sir. I'll tell 'er." She set the pitcher beside his water basin and hesitated. "I...I warmed it this time, sir. Since I know ye like it scalding at the early hours."

"That's a thoughtful girl." He tossed her a steely from the pouch at his belt. "On second thought, just a mo'." Reaching into Cat's pouch of gold in his pocket, he pulled out a dragon. "Because you're a good lass, and because I know the medicine for your ma is expensive."

Laura's eyes went round. She couldn't have been older than fourteen, and probably never seen a gold piece in her life. "You..." Her face turned red. "Wow..."

"Don't worry, girl. I ain't be needing anything in return—nothing like that. I'm off to the sea today, as it is. Now, run along."

Laura took the coin, stammering her thanks as she departed. He turned to his basin and poured the water from the pitcher, watching the steam rise up as it filled. With winter close, warm water was a luxury for a place like this. Most were lucky to get any fresh water at all, considering the walk to the street's well. But he paid Marcy well, and her servant girls, like Laura, were obedient. He washed his face, neck, hands, and hair, using the last bit of soap he had saved for the occasion. There wasn't much bathing to be done at sea. Were it warmer, he'd just take a swim, but the air was too frigid for that. Especially up north. And fresh water was generally rationed. So baths were salt water or nothing.

He was out of the Brickyard Inn within the next ten minutes, striding to the dockyard. A few acquaintances greeted him from opposite sides of the thoroughfare, wishing him well on his next voyage. His crew was probably well underway with voyage preparations. They had reunited just two weeks past when those injured in the sea battle near Stormy Bay were returned to him. He was glad to have them all back safe and healthy. Especially complements of Lord Davi's coin.

A pang of sadness clutched his chest. He'd heard the rumors of Fort Squall's demise. Including the rumor about the fort leaders, lost in the battle. It was all hearsay, but something told him it was true.

Jonah waited for him at the docks, hands on his hips. "Really, Bennatt, sir? A woman? You cannot be serious!"

He chuckled. "So, she showed her face after all, eh? I almost wondered if she'd get cold feet."

"Oh, she showed up all right, and proceeded to make all manner of demands as she was handed down into the rowboat and taken out to the ship. Gods, man!"

"What? She paid well." He shrugged. "I took pity on her. But she's hiding something."

"All the more reason to leave her behind. What'd she pay?"

"I'll tell you in a moment. Let's go." He peered out over the bay. The Lady Faith sat low in the water. All her cargo was stowed the day before. With the exception of the woman named Cat. He followed after Jonah into the rowboat and told him about the night before. They made their way to the ship.

"She offered that much?"

"Aye." A frown pulled at his lips. He scanned the sky, taking in the formations of the clouds and the direction of the wind. His gaze darted from bird to bird. Beaky wasn't anywhere in sight. No doubt she was taking advantage of her last moments on land.

Jonah was still talking as his muscled arms kept busy with the oars. "She could have paid a passenger fare for a fraction of that price," he was saying. "She's definitely hiding something."

"That's what concerns me, too," he mused, continuing to scan the sky. The sun was due any moment. A wonder he'd managed to get up so early. But the sea waited for no one. "There're only a few reasons someone would pay that much to get out of Kastali Dun."

"Think she's wanted for a crime?" Jonah asked.

"Gods! Hope not. Although, that was my first thought. Second thought is that she's just running from someone. Abusive husband, most like. Though she claimed to be unmarried."

"Well, did you ask her?" Jonah studied his face.

"Believe me, I did." He grunted. "She wasn't forthcoming. I didn't push. 'Sides, if she is a wanted criminal and she tells me and I take her knowin' that she's wanted, then I'd be aiding and abetting. Don't want that to my name."

"Right. Two hundred dragons is a tempting bargain. And she's going to Port Ice, so it isn't like the king'll send his men that far north if she is wanted. Not unless she done something real terrible. I ain't heard nothing of it from the gossips, so it must not be too concerning." Jonah hesitated. "Why not flee somewhere else though? Oshea? Harrah? Them countries would be more favorable than the icy north."

Bennett agreed. "Maybe we'll find out more on our way. For now, let's just focus on getting out of here."

He was no sooner on board than the woman Cat was atop him—figuratively speaking, since he would have much preferred the literal case. "What can I do you for, Cat?" He tried to appear pleasant, but he had a ship to run and no time for her antics.

"My cabin has no window. I would like a windowed cabin for the price I paid."

"Oh. That so? Well then, come with me." He led her to his cabin and fought back a frown. Perhaps he should have tidied it better before disembarking a few days ago. The bed was made, but his things were strewn about, and the desk was cluttered. "How about this? Will it do?"

Her face brightened, though she didn't smile. Without her hooded guise, he could tell now that she was uncommonly pretty. Beautiful, in fact. And she knew it.

Her dark hair had been pulled back with a ribbon and hung in thick curls down her back. Pretty brown hair with streaks of gold. Her gown was far too fancy for a ship, but he wasn't going to say anything. So he bit his tongue and waited.

"This will do nicely," she said, lifting her chin as her eyes danced around the room.

He smiled a dark, wicked smile. "Good, then you can share it with me. Try not to hog all the covers while we sleep, eh? I don't share well." A look of disgust morphed across her features. She sputtered, perhaps shocked by his audacity. He doubted there were many people who crossed her or would dare say such a thing. He arched an eyebrow. "You wanted a window. This is the only private cabin with windows, and it's mine. So unless you want to be sharin' it with me, and you'll find no complaints on that matter"—he winked at her—"then you best be happy with the one you got."

Her face turned red with anger. She harrumphed and stormed away, back down the narrow corridor, jamming her hands out along the walls to keep her balance. The ship rocked and she yelped, falling against one wall before regaining her step. He chuckled, watching her teeter to the cabin she'd been given—Jonah's as it turned out. Poor man had sacrificed it and would shackle up with the crew. She threw him an annoyed glance over her shoulder before disappearing from sight. And good riddance, too! Maybe she'd stay tucked away for the entire journey and rid him of her annoyance.

Satisfied, he returned to the deck. He had a ship to manage, and it was high time to be getting underway. His crew greeted him, many with questions on their lips about the lady they'd seen. He gave them a stern talking to and told them to keep their dirty paws off her. Should they get her safely to Port Ice, there'd be ten gold dragons in it for each of them. A share they'd never seen before. That shut them up immediately. He could see the thoughts of how much drink and women money like that could buy, flashing across their hungry gazes.

They had just stowed the anchor and unfurled the sails when he heard a bird's caw. He turned his eyes skyward to find Beaky making lazy circles around the ship, coming in for a landing. She settled down near the eagle's nest to keep watch. "Bout time, you daft bird," he muttered up at her, unable to keep the smile from his lips. She only chirruped down at him. He grunted and returned to his work. The sea waited, and it was time to set sail!

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