Darkspell - Katharine Kerr [81]
On the morrow the overcast lifted, and strong spring sun blazed on the harbor. As he stood on the poop deck of his Bardek merchantman, Elaeno, master of the ship, was wondering how the barbarians could stand wearing wool trousers in this kind of weather. Even though he himself was dressed in a simple linen tunic and sandals, the heat was oppressively humid. On his home island of Orystinna, summer days were parched and easier to bear. Below him on the main deck, the crew of Cerrmor longshoremen worked stripped to the waist. Nearby, Masupo, the merchant who’d hired the ship for this run, watched over every barrel and bale. Some of them contained fine glassware, specially made to sell to barbarian nobles.
“Sir?” the first mate called up. “The customs officials want to speak to you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Waiting on the wooden pier were three blond, blue-eyed Deverry men, as hard to tell apart as most of the Cerrmor barbarians were. As Elaeno approached, they looked startled, then carefully arranged polite expressions on their faces. He was used to that, because he drew those startled looks even in the islands that Deverry men lumped together under the name of Bardek. Like many of the men on his home island, he was close to seven feet tall, heavily built, and his skin was a rich bluish black, not one of the various common shades of brown.
“Good morrow, Captain,” said one of the barbarians. “My name is Lord Merryn, chief of customs for his grace, Gwerbret Ladoic of Cerrmor.”
“And a good morrow to you, my lord. What do you need from me?”
“The permission to search your ship after the cargo’s been unloaded. I realize that it’s somewhat of an indignity, but we’ve been having a problem with smuggled goods of a certain kind. If you insist, we’ll exempt your ship, but if so, neither you nor any of your men can come ashore.”
“I’ve got no quarrel with that. I’ll wager his lordship means opium and poisons, and I’ll have no truck with that foul trade.”
“Well and good, then, and my thanks. It’s also my duty to warn you that if you have any slaves onboard, we won’t hunt them down for you if they seek freedom.”
“The people of my island don’t own slaves.” Elaeno heard the growl in his voice. “My apologies, my lord. It’s a touchy subject among us, but of course, you wouldn’t realize that.”
“I didn’t, at that. My apologies to you, Captain.”
The other two officials looked profoundly embarrassed. Elaeno himself felt uncomfortable. He was as bad as they were, he knew, always lumping all foreigners together unless he watched himself.
“I must compliment you on your command of our language,” Merryn said after a moment.
“My thanks. I learned it as a child, you see. My family had taken in a boarder from Deverry, an herbman who came to study with our physicians. Since we’re a trading house, my father traded lessons for his keep.”
“Ah, I see. Good bargain, it sounds like.”
“It was.” Elaeno was thinking that the bargain had been a better one than ever these men could know.
Once the goods were unloaded onto the pier, one crew of customs men went through them and argued with Masupo about the duties while a second searched every inch of the ship. Elaeno stood on the poop, leaned comfortably onto the rail, and watched the sun sparkling on the gentle swell of the sea. Since water was his most congenial element, he reached Nevyn’s mind easily and heard the old man’s thought that it would take him a moment to find a focus. Soon the image of Nevyn’s face built up on the sea.
“So,” he thought to Elaeno. “You’re in Deverry, are you?”
“I am, down in Cerrmor. We’ll be in port for a fortnight, most like.”
“Splendid. I’m on my way to Cerrmor now. I’ll probably get there in a couple of days. Did my letter reach you before you left?”
“It did, and a grim bit of news it was. I asked around various harbors, and I’ve got information for you.”
“Wonderful, but don’t tell me now. We might be overheard.”
“Indeed? Then I’ll see you when you