Aboard the Pearl, Gray carried the supplies Bear provided to his cabin. Instead of remaining inside, he went to the deck above and fell into the chair, reviewing all that had happened and what was discussed at the Red Bear Inn. The night air was chilly. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
The chair faced the city. Lanterns flickered their soft yellow light on street corners and the doors of establishments catering to the night crowds. Windows were squares of yellow on a dark gray background. Faint music drifted across the water from at least two different places. He didn’t hear the Captain approach.
“Nice night to enjoy the air. Hopefully, I’m not intruding.”
Gray found himself on his feet as if he was a common sailor addressing the Captain. He felt foolish, so extended his hand.
The Captain shook, then said, “I owe you an apology.”
“Sir?”
“After our talk, I told the bos’n of your charges. He wasn’t happy with you and called you a name or two, which he now takes back.”
“He found something?”
“That he did. As you indicated, there were men who I could strike off a list of suspects, leaving the bos’n and me with three. The bos’n was able to eliminate one more of those. He ordered the crew on deck with no warning and performed a search of their quarters. You may have felt the brunt of that inspection.”
“He found the chart?”
“Not right off. He did find one of the men had smuggled three bottles of spirits aboard. A violation of our ship’s articles. But another had some papers written in an unknown language. Not old, mind you. Just different. That got the bos’n to thinking. The crewman had been a little too quick to ask certain questions, too much interest in the ship’s affairs.”
Gray waited. The Captain struggled with the story, stretching it out far too long. In the process, he had to admit he wronged a passenger. That could not be easy. He settled back and allowed the Captain the courtesy of continuing at his own pace. Gray had all night if needed.
“It seems that crewman only went ashore when we reached port at Marlstone. We hired him on there, too. He replaced a crewman that disappeared while we were in Marlstone, so the pieces came together. Then the bos’n remembered he had ‘volunteered’ to help the cook as part of his duties, a job not often valued. He carried food daily from the locker to the galley.”
“I assume the locker is ‘locked’?”
“To prevent pilfering by the crew, but he was given a key. The bos’n went to the locker and searched. Above a beam, he found the missing map, along with another depicting the far coast.”
The Captain leaned on a rail with an elbow as he talked, his eyes on the lights much as Gray’s had been. “Did you confront him?”
“Not right away. The bos’n and I conducted interviews with the men he worked closest with, telling each to remain silent or I’d put them off my ship with a word to the other captains. I let them know they were being betrayed by him. The day we arrived in port, the crewman we’re discussing was taken into custody by the bos’n and first mate.”
“They questioned him?”
“That they did, and none too kindly. He admits to being provided with funds to purchase any maps or charts of any lands across the Endless Sea. He says it has been happening for years. They buy or steal them. Then destroy each.”
“Why?”
“That he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say. But there are dozens of people like him on ships or working in port cities. They’re rewarded for each they destroy. It sickens me to think of the lives that may be lost because of the lack of proper navigation charts.”
The anger was clear in the Captain’s voice, his face tinged pink. He spat over the railing. Gray allowed the information to settle in his mind. The Captain didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Gray said, “Somebody powerful and rich is behind it.”
The Captain cast him a frown that scolded him for stating the obvious.
Gray added, “That someone has a reason.”
The Captain still frowned.
“The reason is what interests me. The first idea that enters my thoughts is that this mysterious person does not want ships to sail to the lands to the east. He wants to keep people from our side of the Endless Sea, here.”
Finally, the Captain lost his frown and said, “And perhaps he is looking to send his people here. Since few ships travel to Breslau, he could build a fleet of ships to carry an army and word of it would not filter out. It would take years to construct such a fleet, but it could be done.”
Gray felt dazed. In a few words, using different information, the Captain had come to a conclusion similar to Shailer’s. Princeton was about to be invaded. No, it was already happening, but no one knew about it.
Gray realized that he was weak in intrigue and politics, having dealt only with his family in Oasis. The Captain could be probing Gray to find what he knew. Placing his trust in anyone could be fatal. He said, “That sounds a little far fetched if you don’t mind me saying so, sir.”
“On the contrary. Convince me it is not so and I’ll thank you.”
The response sounded genuine. Was there anything so important in the Captain’s words that he should try to catch up with Anna? Was it even possible? While the guesses the Captain made were new and different, they basically changed nothing. Shrewsbury was the port where the invasion would happen. “Do you mind if I study the two maps?”
“The Bos’n placed them in your cabin on your bed. Feel free to make copies, if you wish. More than one. Spread them around. If this person wished to restrict them, my inclination is to spread them to all.” The Captain stood, squared his shoulders and walked to the stairs. “We sail in the late morning.”
“Sir? What happened to the sailor who stole the map?”
“He had a rather serious accident and won’t be joining us for the voyage.”
Gray stood and watched the yellow lights of the city reflect off the calm water of the bay, as the blue-white of the stars competed for notice. A song floated on the air, not the drunk voices of the inns catering to sailors, but a lone man on watch on a nearby ship. There were three ships, but Gray couldn’t tell which it came from. It didn’t matter. The voice was soft, clear, and the song lonely. It was the song of a sailor on night watch, haunting and hopeful.
The two charts were lying on his bed. Before reaching for them, he tried the connecting door to the other cabin and found it locked. Since Anna and Kelby were ashore, he had no need for the second cabin. A single candle in a glass chimney provided dim light. The charts would wait until morning. He had, at least, five more days at sea with no companions to help pass the time.
He slowly climbed into bed. There was a lot of information he wanted to think about. His instincts told him he was on the right track, but the idea that his homeland was going to be invaded required more thought. What if I’m wrong? Worse, what if I’m not? The gentle movement of the ship tied to the pier lulled him to sleep as his head touched his pillow.
He woke early, refreshed, and hungry. The ship was still in port, and he went to the small deck to watch the pier. He hoped to spot Kelby, but perhaps Bear or Shailer would be there too. He’d been away from home on what had seemed a grand adventure, but how feelings of loneliness and fear depressed him.
The items Bear had promised were delivered before they sailed. He placed the two new charts with the others.
Footsteps on the stairs to the small deck alerted him. Food. He turned to find a short man as old as his father, dressed in a blue coat made of shiny material that glittered as the sun struck it. He was a big around as he was tall. The threads of the blue coat were golden in color, and from the rings on the thick fingers, Gray suspected the threads were gold.
“Only a single chair?”
The greeting was odd, the voice that of wealth demanding whatever it wished. Gray’s immediate reaction was to leap to his feet and offer his chair, but some small indication on the plump face said it was expected. Gray had paid full fare. He remained seated as he said, “You can request another from the messenger. I’m sure he will locate one for you. My name is Gray.”
A small sniff of disapproval. “I am the newly appointed ambassador to the Marlstone Islands, Sir Elwood at your service. What might your business in the islands be?”
The phrase didn’t instill any belief in Gray that the man was in any way ‘at his service’. “I’m searching for my brother. We have not heard of him in over a year, and we heard he may be in the islands.”
“I see,” the man interlaced his fingers over his expansive stomach. He glanced at the rigging, at another nearby ship, and then the city. “Depressing place, really. Do you know when our meals are served?”
Gray caught sight of the ship’s messenger scurrying across the deck below. He waved an arm and caught the boy’s attention. He instantly spun and headed for an inside passageway to the deck they were on. When he poked his head above the stairs, Gray said, “Would you mind telling the cook that Sir Elwood and I are ready to eat? And we can use another chair and a small table, if possible.”
“Course, sir. Good to have you back for the next leg,” then he was gone.
Sir Elwood raised an eyebrow in Gray’s direction. “You are a man that knows how to get things done.”
The compliment didn’t sound sincere. It sounded more like the way a master speaks to a servant. Gray turned his attention back to the activity on the dock. Ropes were being handled, men were taking their workstations for the departure. All seemed to have an assignment. The Captain was on the deck below, watching a hundred tasks to make sure all were done to his satisfaction while the bos’n shouted and ordered each task.
The ship eased away, a longboat with men at the oars pulling hard to turn the bow. A single sail went up, and the motion of the ship changed from captivity to freedom. The longboat rowed to shore while the Pearl turned into the wind. Her sluggish motion eased as another set of sails went up.
Two crewmen delivered the chair and small table. Soon after, a tray of fruit, biscuits, and cold slices of smoked meat was delivered. Sir Elwood scooped nearly all the meat into his hand and rolled it into a thick tube. He held it like a chicken leg and ate from the end. Gray selected two biscuits of the three on the tray for himself, and most of the grapes. He’d ask to have future meals delivered to his cabin, or he’d starve.
The wind picked up as the shoreline blended in the with a bank of low clouds hanging over the city. The ship heeled to one side as the wind pushed it steadily to sea. Gray excused himself and went to his cabin.
The charts were still hidden in the folds of the bedding, as he’d left them. Later he wanted to ask the Captain exactly what an ambassador does. Could the man help him in any way? But first, he unrolled the old map he’d already examined, the one stolen. There were no additional markings, and the names were as he remembered. The title said, ANTERRA. He wondered if the Captain might know the reference. At first glance, he was satisfied that his copy on the four sheets of paper was fairly accurate.
Nowhere did it mention Breslau, but he had no doubt the chart matched the place where the others originated. He unrolled the newer chart and found it more detailed. It depicted the coastline close enough to place both charts side by side. Comparing them found few differences. However, the newer chart had been altered. A different hand and different ink had added more depth soundings, at least, two dangerous shallows, and names.
Within the great bay were several neatly printed words, most unknown, but one stood out as if printed in red block letters. It said, Breslau Castle. For the first time, he confirmed the name referred to the land across the sea. Breslau, the name of a family? City? Province or kingdom? It didn’t matter. It was confirmation and encouragement.
The Captain didn’t know the word Anterra but spent part of a morning of the second day discussing the charts with Gray. He shared a few insights, mostly rumors, and stories he’d heard over the years. Nothing of importance, but helpful all the same.
Gray spent three more days on the charts by himself, but on the fourth day at sea several things happened. As he sat at the desk with his vacant eyes watching the wake behind the ship, he felt the slightest twitch on his back. Sitting still, he waited. The sensation became stronger, more familiar, even slightly painful. The dragon was getting closer. A familiar one, probably a red.
He raced to the deck above, heart beating and breath panting from excitement. He found the sky overcast. Gray’s eyes searched from the horizon to the horizon, and all above. He couldn’t see the dragon, but felt it flying closer. Can dragons fly all the way across the Endless Sea?
The answer was obvious. Of course, they could. The greens roosting near Shrewsbury proved that. No ship had carried them there. If they could fly one way, they could fly the other direction.
Then, after the pain increased to sharp stings, he spotted it. Drawing nearer the ship from directly behind, the dragon’s wings flapped a lazy, effortless beat. It flew directly at the ship. The light glinted off the red scales. Gray’s mood was so elated he almost waved an arm in greeting when a shout rang out.
He turned. On the deck below a seaman had spotted the dragon and sounded the alarm. Men swarmed to fighting stations. As the dragon drew closer, more orders were shouted, and more men raced to defend their ship. The dragon swooped lower as if intending to try landing on the small deck Gray watched from.
The dragon eyes locked onto Gray’s and it snorted, as if in greeting. At the last moment, the dragon used the powerful wings to swerve aside and climb high into the sky. It disappeared into the overcast ahead.
“That was truly amazing,” said the Ambassador, who stood on the top stair.
It was only their second encounter since Gray tried to avoid the man. Gray turned, nodded, and said, “Yes, it was.”
“I thought that the dragon was going to fly closer and snap your head off. I’ve never seen so many teeth, or a dragon up close. But. . . You stood there as brave as any man I’ve ever met. In fact, it almost acted like it recognized you.”
“I stood there frozen in fear, sir. I can hardly breathe. That thing looked right at me.”
“Yes, it did. If dragons can smile, I think that one did.”
Gray puffed himself up and tried to deflect the conversation. “Smiling because it was going to eat me for a snack.”
“Perhaps.”
The single word sounded unconvinced. The ambassador wore an outfit even gaudier than the last time they’d spoken. The brocade over-jacket was eel green while the billowing trousers were cream. A necklace of red stones contrasted with the jacket. The heels on his buckled shoes were fully a hand high, making the ambassador almost as tall as Gray.
Gray said, “I think I should go lie down after that scare.”
“Must you? I had intended to speak with you today.”
Sitting in one of the two chairs and finding the seat wet, Gray ignored it and said, “About what?”
“In Marlstone City, I will control enormous power. I would be a good friend to have on your side, should you ever need one. I will have the treasury and a small army of palace guards at my disposal.”
There seemed to be a veiled threat within the words. “I am just seeking information about my brother.”
“And I am just another average traveler to the islands. Come now, let us reveal a little of ourselves to each other. You seek more than a brother. Perhaps I can help.”
Gray didn’t like the condescending tone or the manner, but saw the man was like a chicken determined to peck every speck of grain from the feeding trough. The more he tried to withhold information the more the ambassador would delve into his business. It was better to give him something and hope for the best.
“You are right, sir. I have other business in Marlstone.”
“More than one bird with your stone, eh?”
“I have entered into a business relationship with two wealthy men in Fleming. If I find cargo that may be shipped in either direction, at a profit, I will share in the proceeds.”
“Surly those markets are already saturated?”
“But not shipment to, or from,” Gray almost said Breslau, but at the last instant substituted, “Anterra.”
The ambassador flinched at the word. His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared as if he suddenly caught the scent of an outhouse. He tried to recover, but for an ambassador his response was unworthy. “That is a name I do not recognize. Tell me about it.”
“The inns of Fleming where sailors fill their mugs with ale until tongues loosen provides my investors with rumors. I know nothing else, but if there is trade in the future, I hope to become wealthy.”
“So you say.” The ambassador touched a finger to his forehead as if a minor salute before departing. He turned and walked down the stairs as if he was descending a stairway at a ball in the king’s Summer Palace.
Gray closed his eyes and reviewed every word. The ambassador left much unsaid, but his few hints were dangerous. The man was too insightful and had his own agenda.
The third that happened that day was finding a crudely penned note in his cabin. It said, “If you want to learn about your brother, I will contact you at the Red Flame Inn.”
That was the Inn that Bear owned. He intended to stay there, so if any of the ship’s sailors contacted him, he would know who tried to swindle him. Gray had no brother, so a seaman was trying to earn himself a little extra by providing false information.
The note also indicated the crew was talking about him, probably a normal circumstance, but a reminder that he was not on a pleasure cruise. First, the ambassador poked his nose into Gray’s business and now an anonymous sailor.
The fifth day passed without incident. On the morning of the sixth, he heard a call from a lookout. Dressing quickly, he ran to the deck and looked ahead to a smudge on the horizon as it grew into an island.