Sea of Dekatos

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“The sea weeps for the savage warfare it has seen.” 

-- Sento of Yang

Wentai resumed collecting stones from the sea. The initial stages of construction pleased him; in his eyes it was like looking at a work of art in progress. He was a young man, only twenty-five, but he had fought long and hard for his city, hauling in endless catches of sugar kelp and fish in-between skirmishes. He had faced death on the sea too often; now he was ready to pursue his own interests. The building of the house itself was already becoming a pleasure far beyond what he had expected. The placement of each stone was determined by some mental blueprint he could feel but not see. The moment of contact when a large stone settled down perfectly among its mates sent a shiver of satisfaction through him. He had fought for six years upon the sea and would now spend the rest of his time nestled in the comforting embrace of his house, kept company by authors long dead.

It was located just outside the walls of the city of Char. His ship was moored a spear’s throw from his house, and his chariot was close at hand. He knew that in the event of an attack by another city, his house would be vulnerable. He felt, however, that if war did flare up, an attacking army would be unlikely to stop and spend the time to pull his house down. Peace had reigned on land for long enough that he felt secure locating it outside the walls. Inside the city he would have been forced to content himself with a small attic or sliver of land between two buildings, but outside, he had unlimited space. All land outside the city was, essentially, untamed and unclaimed. 

He walked to the sea and immersed himself in the warm waters. It was like an embrace from nature herself, a chance to float and swim amidst the soft currents and bright fish and waving beds of kelp. Rocks littered the bottom, as did bright shells discarded from sea creatures during the various stages of their lives. Treasure from the many ships that had been sunk over the centuries lay everywhere. Prowling through rotting hulls and sifting for coins had been a popular excursion for men and women with strong lungs, and up until recently had been very safe. Lately divers had not been returning. 

Wentai filled his lungs with a deep breath and dove under. The sunlit, clear waters offered no impediment to his vision; the rocky bottom was laid bare before his eyes, although it seemed to ripple in the moving currents. Crabs scuttled away as he kicked with his legs and reached out with his fingers to haul himself along the bottom, pulling himself from rock to rock until he found another blue-gray stone. He grasped it in his hands, pulled it up, and brought his knees forward so that his feet were beneath him. He held his breath as he walked up the sloping sea floor. A moment later his head broke the surface and he inhaled deeply of the hot, dry air. 

He hauled the heavy rock over to his house and set it in place with a clack, wondering in the back of his mind why rocks were so much heavier in the air. He had selected only stones of the same blue gray color. Wentai gazed upon his work with pride for a moment before returning to the sea and slipping once again into its warm embrace.

When he resurfaced there was a beautiful woman on the bank, standing just beyond the water line, watching him. 

Her features were exotic, and for the first time in seeing a new face he was unable to place the stranger to a city at a glance. Her build was firm and well rounded; possibly she was a warrior from Yang. Her eyes were dark and new, different from anything he was familiar with. Even the fine silk sheets around her body were a mystery. She wore no weapons, just the expensive white silk that barely sheathed the generous curves of her body. There was a peculiar look on her face as if she had found something deeply interesting.

Wentai walked up with the rock still in his hands, intending on moving past her, but that long stare of hers stopped him. For a moment he drowned in the exotic beauty of her fine face, before forcing his body to move once more. He walked to his house and set the next stone atop the others, shifting it for a moment to get its seating just right. When he turned, as he had half feared and half hoped, Wentai saw that she was still pinning him with that bright, feminine gaze.