Aveda, Volhowe, 26th August 1083
As the six surviving ships of the Marmarkan fleet drew into sight of the harbour
at Aveda, those of the passengers for whom this was their first visit lined
the rail and gazed in awe.
Aveda was one of the largest - and certainly the busiest - harbour they
had ever seen. It stretched all around the bay (Valenshen Bay), with the city
laid out behind it in a great arc. Jetties and piers stuck out from the docks
almost all the way around.
Big as it was, the harbour was crowded. The overwhelming majority of the vessels
filling it were fishing boats, from smacks to trawlers, but a significant number
of trading vessels also plied the waters. Many were from other islands, not
something altogether usual elsewhere. Dominating the harbour, though, were the
rakers.
Volhowe's pride, the raker was the fastest, most powerful warship in the world.
Only limited numbers kept them from sweeping the navies of nations like Cormar
from the oceans. Where the majority of the local ships, like the Marmarkans',
were wide-hulled and relatively clumsy, the rakers were long and slender three-masters
built for speed and rigged both with square sails and a jib on the mizzen mast.
They looked, and moved, like sharks.
Three were anchored in the harbour and two docked on the west side of the bay.
As the ships headed for the quay, Silverweave pointed out locations of interest,
such as the palace of Prince Lyrran (nominally the city's ruler) in the Noble
Quarter to the west, and the Hall of the Guild Council in the Trade District
to the east (where the real power lay).
Within an hour, the six ships were docked at jetties off the Foreign Quarter,
and one of Silverweave's ship captains was dealing with a harbourmaster's lieutenant
over docking fees as the army began to disembark. Into this chaos came a party
of twenty mounted men, forcing their way towards the obvious leaders of the
new-come army.
At their head was a well-dressed man, all in dark red, who swung himself out
of the saddle and approached Zamyr Silverweave. After introducing himself as
Kyravan of the Guilds' Council, he politely, but firmly, enquired exactly
why a small army was being disembarked. Silverweave answered him straightforwardly,
explaining that his Company needed to rest, recuperate and resupply before moving
on elsewhere. Kyravan appeared relieved at this, and moved on to explain the
rules.
Free Companies were welcome in Aveda, but must bivoauc outside the city walls,
by law. Officers were free to reside anywhere in the Foreign Quarter, south-east
of the Trade District. In order to maintain a company on Volhowan soil, a warrant
was required, for a fee of 1 silver zelura
per man, 2 per cavalryman. Mehmet bristled at this, but Silverweave had been
here before, and had a bag of coin ready to pay the dues.
At this point, the half-Qhal Gilbert, newly recruited to the cadre Mehmet and
Percinious were building, piped up and asked Kyravan, "How big is your
army, then?" From a mercenary this was an alarming question, but Kyravan
merely eyed him and responded, "We are not an army. I serve in the Guilds'
Council security guards. Armies are for nobles and princes and suchlike."
As if summoned by his words, a second group of armoured men appeared on the
quayside and began pushing towards the newcomers. Long before their leader became
visible, his blustering voice was audible; when he did appear, he was even more
finely dressed than Kyravan.
"Thank you, I'll take over here, in the Prince's name, make way for Count
Cordua..." his voice trailed off when he observed Kyravan, and the other
gave him no chance to regain his balance. Briskly, he asserted his authority,
brushing off Cordua's attempts to take control, and sending the better-dressed
nobleman away. As he passed Gilbert, the latter murmured, "Why don't you
tell him to stuff it? You're in charge!" For an instant, Cordua's face
showed naked fear and Gilbert had his answer. "You haven't the power,"
he suggested. "Maybe you need help." Cordua's eyes widened, and a
look of dawning hope and calculation spread across his face. His voice was barely
above a breath. "I'll relay your offer to my Prince," he said, and
led his men away.
Not observing this, Kyravan had gotten down to the niceties; assuring SIlverweave
that his warrant would be delivered swiftly to his lodgings, and assigning a
sergeant Brastock to guide the troops to their designated camping ground,
he added that the officers were invited to dine that night with Gromnyr,
Chairman of the Guilds' Council. The way in which he delivered this invite made
it clear it was both a privilege and one that it was wise not to refuse.
The men and officers began to scatter. Mehmet made sure all the half-qhal cadre
were clear to be back at their ship by 8pm - sober - and then he, Percinious
and Gilbert headed out into the town, intent on expending some of their loot.
Percinious had Rurik's mail, which though notched in places was still sound,
but the other two fancied a coat of their own. They made their way, therefore,
to the Trade District, to locate the Street of the Smiths.
En route, they discussed the next phases of their plan. Increasingly, it seemed
to them that Silverweave and his men were more likely to be a hinderance than
a benefit. Quite apart from the danger that they were quite capable of turning
on the half-bloods, the contention that the army was a necessity for crossing
Vermar to find the Gate began to carry less weight. Perhaps a small group could
achieve with subterfuge what a larger one could not with force? In the end,
the three decided that this was the case, and that they would attempt to ditch
Silverweave here on Volhowe.
The problem with this was that if they simply obtained a boat and sailed away,
even if they managed to scupper all the other Marmarkan craft, Silverweave would
be able to hire a boat or boats to pursue them in - and there was a danger he
would catch them. Ideally they needed to get out of reach, either by a head
start or by moving faster. The former was impossible, so they would have to
attempt the latter; which meant doing what had never been done before - stealing
a raker.
Shelving the conversation for the moment, they turned to the procurement of
armour. They approached three armoursmiths in turn, with the proposal of trading
in the three suits of scale armour they had already for two suits of linked
ring mail. While doing this, Percinious and Gilbert quietly 'cased' the premises
to evaluate if it might be worth a nocturnal visit to save the asking price....
The first trader wouldn't go any further than knocking 5% off the price of
his new mail, and offering 75% of the normal value for the scale. His security
was practically non-existent; to the point that alarm bells sounded in Nutbolter's
mind. Someone with that insecure a premises must have some other defences. Magic?
The memory of the night he broke into Varroth's house
in Heldorn was strong.
The second man they spoke to was more amenable to negotiation, and also had
much more conventional bars and locks on his forge. However, when Gilbert asked
him about his neighbor's precautions, he laughed and intimated that the man
was completely safe; he was close to Crend, after all. When Nutbolter
suggested that they (the half-qhal) could always kill this Crend if he wanted,
his smile turned very sickly and he practically threw them out of his premises.
This wasn't going too well, but a third try seemed worth a go. This man, named
Defrin, had no interest in trading for mundane armour, but hinted strongly
that he was interested in items of magical power. After a moment's thought,
Mehmet offered him the staff Koyagurfer.
"You're taking a big risk, showing this around," he said slowly.
"Possession of something like this could mean a quick trip to the impaling
stake. A good job I'm an .... interested collector ... This is well worth
two suits of armour."
"How much more?"
Defrin
relaxed. "I have two suits I have made up, commissioned for two members
of the Prince's household. I could arrange to 'suffer a convenient burglary'"
Little did he know how close he was to this fiction becoming an actuality. "They
have matrices for Protection-2 and Countermagic-2." Mehmet
nodded, and Defrin smiled; "Excellent." he said, standing the staff
possessively close to himself, and unhooking two coats of mail from a rack.
Although not smiths by trade, the half-qhal could see that it was very well
made, and the resonance of a spell matrix was clearly perceptible to their magic-trained
senses. Mehmet and Gilbert donned the suits, shrugging them into place on their
shoulders, relishing the comfort of the more flexible linked rings after the
prods and snags of plundered and ill-fitting scales.
Percinious made a mental note; Defrin was a collector; that meant he had more
sorcerous items, probably stashed on the premises somewhere.
Gilbert looked around at shields, but couldn't see anything better than his
own.
*
On the way back to the docks, Percinious in a fit of optimism stopped a street
vendor and bought a sausage on a stick. It didn't taste too bad, but by the
time he reached the quayside he rather wished he hadn't eaten it.
*
Back at their 'own' boat, the three decided to disdain the suggestion of finding
an inn in the Foreign Quarter, and to sleep aboard with as many of the cadre
as they could get. As 8pm neared, their men began to return, and by the designated
hour all were there. Many had souvenirs, some had ale or wine, but all were
alert and sober.
The three leaders went to talk to the captain, Culran. They'd become
friendly with him on the voyage from Cormar, but now was to be the test, for
they started trying to interest him in the idea of stealing and sailing a raker.
Culran was honest in that he would dearly love to try, but also in that he was
by no means confident he could succeed. Certainly he'd want his entire crew;
at the moment, only 8 of the 12 were aboard, as well as the 4 guards Silverweave
had posted on each of his ships.
Examining the three docked rakers with Farsee, crew were visible on
each, and two guards at each end of the gangplank. In an attempt to find out
more, the three went and walked past them, impressed again at the sleek power
of the vessels as they got closer. As they approached the guards, Mehmet off-handedly
asked, "Nice ship. How's it work?"
The guard eyed him coldly. "Move along. Forever." he said, and that
was all.
