The Coral Kingdom - Douglas Niles [61]
The stranger grimaced at the sight of the amber liquid in the pitcher, with its slight film of white foam. Nevertheless, he reached over and refilled the mugs of each northman. His own glass stood before him, barely touched.
"Did you sail here on that pig scow?" asked the northman, gesturing to the door. The indication of the great galleon was not lost on the one called Malawar.
"No-I've been on Gwynneth for some time now. I came to Corwell across the road from Kingsbay."
The northman shook his head. Why would someone travel from one side of an island to the other on land? "D'you know ships?" he demanded belligerently, then slumped back into his chair, not waiting for an answer. "That ship out there-the Princess! She's the finest boat ever to put to sea from Gnarhelm. That means she be the finest from anywhere in the Moonshaes, y' unnerstan'?"
The black-haired man nodded easily, and the sailor talked while his companion slumped deeper into coma. The trio passed an hour thus. The conscious northman was named Roloff and proved quite loquacious, telling ribald tales of life in Gnarhelm and revealing that the destination of their morrow's voyage was being kept a mystery by their captain, who was none other than the Crown Prince of Gnarhelm!
Eventually the harlot and the two young seamen left, and the innkeeper coughed and tapped his foot, then started to clean up. The black-garbed man took note and squinted at his companions.
"Are you men staying here?" asked Malawar, rising to his feet. When the coherent one nodded, the dark figure's lips creased into another pale smile. "I have a splendid suite of rooms up the street at the King's Copper. Why don't you join me? There's plenty of room for the two of you."
The northman blinked suspiciously, but another silver piece flashed as Malawar paid off the innkeeper. The sailor had walked past the King's Copper and knew that it was a splendid place. Also, the rash he had acquired from the straw mat in The Black Salmon's sleeping room was still with him. The thought of real accommodations was too good to ignore.
"Aye," he grunted. "Give me a hand with Luge, here, and we'll take you up on that!"
Without appearing to strain, Malawar took the drunken Luge's shoulder and bore a great portion of the man's weight. They moved out the door and along the darkened street. It was many hours past midnight. Their route took them along the waterfront, beside the black waters of Corwell Harbor, water that extended still and placid toward the firth and the Trackless Sea beyond.
When they reached the King's Copper, Malawar alone carried Luge, bearing him full across his shoulders, hauling him like a sack of potatoes through the deserted common room and along the darkened hallway to his room.
The northman called Roloff was nowhere to be seen.
* * * * *
Alicia stood amid a bustle of controlled chaos on the Corwell waterfront while northmen sailors rowed the Princess of Moonshae toward the quay for loading. Brandon stood beside her, his hands on his hips, his eyes scrutinizing every move of the graceful vessel's slow progress.
"Easy there!" he shouted, unable to control himself. "Take her slow! Now-come about! Watch it!"
The Prince of Gnarhelm paced in agitation, though the vessel was clearly in no danger. At the rudder stood the fiercely scowling figure of Knaff the Elder, as experienced a helmsman as ever sailed the Sea of Moonshae, and the longship, propelled by a half-dozen oars, barely crept through the water.
"Easy!" cried Brandon as a tublike fishing vessel raised sail a hundred paces away from the Princess.
"Can't hear myself think out here!" grumbled Knaff, loud enough for his voice to carry to shore.
"He can bring it in safely, don't you think?" suggested Alicia with a laugh. "You're like a proud papa getting his first look at his little boy!"
The captain grinned sheepishly. "You're right,"