The Raveling by Hutson Alec

Author:Hutson, Alec
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-26T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Morning brought a herd of aurochs thundering through Keilan’s head. He stumbled along behind Pelos as they wove through the streets of Chale, the old fishmonger seemingly unaffected by the many cups he’d drunk the night before and the mercilessly bright sun.

Keilan kept his head down; the dizziness seemed to abate somewhat if he concentrated on the churned road. But he knew when they moved through a crowded market space, as he heard the surprised mutterings when the townspeople caught sight of Senacus. The Pure were not such an uncommon sight in the Shattered Kingdoms, but still an appearance by one of Ama’s warriors was worthy of gossip.

Gradually, the sounds of cattle lowing and goodwives haggling faded behind them, and the dirt beneath his boots gave way to planks of pitted wood. Keilan finally looked up, blinking at the harsh glare reflecting off the Lenian. The river was narrow, no more than a few hundred paces wide, and so sluggish it appeared to not be flowing at all. A half-dozen boats were tied up at the docks, including a large merchant carrack that wallowed so low in the water Keilan wondered if it could make it all the way to Theris without scraping the river’s bottom. Gulls that had followed the ships in from the Broken Sea turned gyres in the sky, shrieking.

Pelos made his way towards an ancient, salt-scarred fishing boat with an upswept prow that tapered into the leering, monstrous visage of Ghelu the Toothed, most fearsome of the Deep Ones. Such carvings were common enough that even a few of the smaller boats in Keilan’s village had been adorned with similar ornamentation – it was an old belief that creatures from the depths would not dare to attack a vessel displaying the image of one of the vengeful sea gods.

Three young men squatted on the dock beside the boat, intent on a game of chalice. One of the players tossed down his cards, cursing, then noticed them approaching and stood.

“Losing again, Seric?” Pelos said with a shake of his head.

The young man smoothed down his black mustache, his eyes flicking uncertainly from Pelos to the three strangers accompanying him. “I’m up on the day, Uncle,” he said slowly. Keilan noticed he had the red-stained teeth of a kennoc-nut chewer.

“Ah, but what about the month? The year?”

Seric cleared his throat noisily and spat over the dock. “Haven’t had to pawn the Sea Beggar yet, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Is she still sea-worthy?” Pelos asked, nodding towards the boat. “You’ve kept her in the river for a few seasons now.”

Seric spared a glance over his shoulder. “Aye, she’ll sail the waves still. I wouldn’t take her to Kesh, but she could get to Gryx so long as there’s no storms.” He turned back, gesturing at Senacus. “What’s going on? Does the paladin need to get somewhere?”

“Ven Ibras.”

The young man spat again; he missed the water this time, a wad of red splattering the docks. “The Beggar will make it there.

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