My sea sickness seemed to have been subdued somewhat by the end of the second day, though perhaps that was due to my stomach being empty after spending the whole afternoon unloading Hemp’s entire stock of ale. Ignoring that, I rather liked to think that it’s because I was getting used to having a boat beneath me, and in any case the water became increasingly calm the further south we sailed until finally we hit the buzzing Sea of Trade. This I was more familiar with, and although we were still at sea and by no means safe, I could not help but feel my mood lighten with each nautical mile closer we came to our next stop: Haarland’s quaint capital, Dunril.

It wasn’t a place I was acquainted with. The few times I had visited Haarland in the past had surprisingly never borne me to its capital, as instead I had always taken the swifter route up the River Harna to Hadrien’s Firth where passage to much of the country was available via several rivers and canal networks. Now that I was here, I realised that I hadn’t missed out on much.

The city was a spectacle, to be sure, rising gradually from the coast in a swathe of red roofs and timber amid flutters of vibrant green foliage, the urban sprawl culminating in six stone peaks thrusting at the belly of the smog-congested sky with a thousand ornately crenelated fingers. The Houses of the Holy were the only pieces of architecture which each city in Terythen had in common; always looming imposingly at the heart of each, always six in mirror of one another to represent the six faces of the faith, always exactly the same in every way down to the minutest of details. Personally, I wasn’t one to frequent such places unless I heard rumour of a particularly lovely nun, but in any case the cathedrals were restricted for use by monarchs and the Most Holy only, the rest of us rabble having to make do with smaller places of piety dotted around the ranks of housing and marketplaces where priests were reduced to selling their faith to the passing public like common street vendors.

Being a man of refined tastes, I liked my cities to be brimming with excitement and opportunities on every corner, a place where a man could explore his more arcane desires and wake up the next morning feeling hungover but ultimately satisfied. As we steered our dinghy into Dunril’s picturesque quayside, however- and by ‘we’ I mean ‘the other two’- I felt a sinking sensation that was not caused by our vessel finally springing a leak. From the looks of the neatly arrayed lodgings sitting prettily upon the pier’s edge, their charming designs and colourful exteriors more reminiscent of a fairy-tale village than a bustling city of commerce, I judged that any taverns to be found would have a strict ‘no alcohol’ policy and the only women would be over sixties of a faithful marriage and knitting addictions. I slumped against the mast with a groan and willed the Gods to guide me safely through these testing times as we drifted toward what I now anticipated to be the inner circle of hell.

The sun was setting on the city as we came in to dock, its final embers igniting the terracotta tiles in a violent display of flaming reds as though every building were ablaze with the day’s final throws, churning the bloated plumes from a thousand chimneys into a hot rosy haze that heralded the night. The port was smaller than I would have imagined it to be, but the reason for it being so was probably that it was, in truth, rarely used- or at least not to the extent that one would expect a capital city’s port to be.

I vaguely remembered something my tutor had told me of Haarland’s extensive network of canals, and how many of the goods that Haarland and its capital attained arrived via the Tradesman’s port, where they would be transported to Hadrien’s Firth upon the River Harna for distribution along the immense network of rivers and such that emptied into the estuary. Dunril itself, if I remembered correctly, was saturated with them; all man-made, of course, though I couldn’t quite wrap my head around how they managed to carve the canal up a hill. Yet again, I found myself experiencing faint regret at having not paid better attention to my seniors.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” Finnr decided for the three of us as he looped a thick knot of rope about the nearest cleat while I, suffering from sealegs, miraculously managed not to tumble down the gap between the dock and the boat’s side, “I’ll gather some more supplies. You two,” He jabbed a finger between Zabi and I, in case it could be any less clear who he was referring to, then waved us off with a lazy waft of his ink-stained hand, “go find a hole to or something to sleep in. I’ll meet you back here in the morning.”

I watched in suspicion as Larsen plucked a plump purse from his pocket and emptied some coins into the harbour master’s hand, thinking it unlikely and rather unfair for a cave-dwelling fisherman to have more money to his name than I had rightly possessed in three years.

“Ha! I don’t think so!” I scoffed, folding my arms and straightening up until my spine reminded me that it had been crippled in a small boat for two days by screaming in agony at the slightest stretch, “I’m not letting you out of my damn sight! Meet you in the morning? Sorry, mate, but I’d stand better stead believing in the promises of politicians than your own. No offense, but the last time I trusted your words you butchered my family. It might take a bit more than a short boat trip to solidify any inkling of trust in you.”

“If you say so,” I noticed for the first time that Larsen now had two twin throwing axes resting on either hip, though how long he had had them for was beyond me, and his thumbs continuously traced the ragged runes engraved across the silver surface of each gruesome blade as he tittered and talked, “If you’re so concerned, you can both join me. I could always do with the extra hands, and I’ll need someone to carry the dead cats back to the boat.”

“Dead what?”

Zabi must have had some semblance of a conscience beneath that chilly exterior, for I can only assume it was the look of pure repulsion on my face which prompted her to counter his offer with something within the limits of my free will.

“You go reserve us some rooms at that inn over there,” She glanced at me with a roll of her eyes, resting her weight on one hip as she jerked her head towards Finn’s craning form with a bounce of black hair, “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

At first I felt such a flood of relief that I almost agreed instantaneously, but better sense grabbed a hold of me and steered me towards suspicion.

“And let you both run off without me? I don’t think so!”

The girl looked on the edge of giving in, but with a bitter sigh and a few incomprehensible mutters in a foreign tongue, she reached up to untangle a piece of jewellery from her shock of hair before grabbing one of my hands and planting it firmly in my palm, curling my fingers closed about the jumble of beads and fabric.

“…Here,” She breathed sourly, though her fingers still clutched resolutely at my own in a fierce reluctance to let go of what was within, “It is a family heirloom of mine. I would never leave without it.” Still she held it there, so long that I wondered whether she wasn’t just mesmerised by the softness of my hands, but with a decisive movement she finally let go, taking a step back in addition as though as extra precaution not to snatch it back as her eyes betrayed she might. Curious, I dragged my gaze away from her face to regard what could possibly mean so much to her.

Upon unclenching my fist, I gazed down upon a string of red beads woven through with straggles of what I severely hoped was not human hair, ending in a coin-like piece of metal and a messy knot. It was a little underwhelming, to tell the truth. I had expected it to be encrusted in some diamonds, at the least. For a second I wondered whether she was having me on, hoping to trick me into letting them leave by giving me some raggedy piece of old junk, but any fears were swiftly swept aside as I suddenly found myself being stared down by her flaring amber eyes, words sharp as daggers as she spat them at my throat, “So if you dare lose it, we will be leaving without you- because you will be dead.”

“…Well…” I cleared my throat, perspiration condensing uncomfortably upon my brow as I made a calculated retreat while stowing the beads in my pocket with deliberate care, but not before making a hasty snatch for the money-purse in Finn’s hand and pinching a generous portion of its contents, “Now that’s all sorted, I guess I’ll be seeing you two later! Bye!”

At that point in time I didn’t really care whether my legs had regained their rigidity and accustomed themselves to land- with the way things were escalating, I’d gladly drag myself bodily through the dirt if it meant getting out of range of that woman’s deadly wrath. My nose still hadn’t repaired itself after the last time, and I wasn’t sure it could survive another round with that madwoman's fists.