The Shewstone by Jane Fletcher

Author:Jane Fletcher
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781626395558
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
Published: 2016-04-28T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ship’s crew and other transients must stay in the docks precinct throughout their stay in Sideamuda. Those hoping to enter the town must first get permission from the portgerefa. Anyone found on the streets during the hours of darkness, or in a state of drunkenness will receive one hundred lashes and be barred from future disembarkation. Any damages or losses incurred in the town will be recouped from the ship’s cargo. Please follow these rules. It will make your stay here more pleasant for all. Good day.” The harbour official turned on her heel and strode down the gangplank.

“Pleasant!” Captain Joachim spat over the side.

“Watch out. There’s probably a rule against that too,” Matt said.

“You sure about getting off here?”

“I have to. This is where the trail leads.”

“I won’t be able to take you home. We’ll be steering clear of here, what with the new taxes.”

“Don’t blame you.”

“Take care then.”

“Of course.” Matt clasped Captain Joachim’s hand in farewell. She called to the foredeck, “You ready?”

Eawynn left her vantage point and joined Matt at the top of the gangplank.

This port was different. Matt felt it before her foot hit the quay. The white daub and red tiles were similar to other mainland towns the Blue Puffin had called by, but the scale of the harbour dwarfed the rest, though not all was in use. Sideamuda had been the biggest seaport of the Rihtcynn Empire; all trade with Cyningesburg had gone through it. After the empire collapsed, the vast harbour was no longer needed. Currently, less than a tenth of the berths were occupied. Ranks of mansions covered the hills overlooking the sea. Yet many were no more than empty shells. The civic buildings were overblown marble constructions of porticoes and colonnades, but everywhere showed signs of poor maintenance.

Yet the mood rather than the architecture was what struck Matt. The bustle flowed across the docks as furious as anywhere, but the sounds were muted. People were talking, but nobody yelled at the top of their lungs. Porters looked around, rather than over their carts, literally keeping their heads down. Everyone was trying not to be noticed. The upstanding folk, the merchants, traders, and sea captains, kept to the sidelines. The rovers, sneaks, and the rest had to be about as well, but for once Matt had trouble picking them out. Most surprising of all, no beggars were tagged on the edges.

What she did see were soldiers in the black cloaks and silver conical helmets of the Rihtcynn Empire. Their large oval shields carried the old imperial crest. Everywhere Matt looked clumps of them were standing sentry. All the harbour officials strutting across the flagstones had their own personal bodyguard.

A high wall rose above the red tiled roofs, protecting the town. Matt guessed the streets between sea and wall made up the docks precinct. It did not leave a lot of space for the ship’s crews. How difficult would getting permission to move on be? At least she had a name to ask for.

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