The Prince's Mark

The Road to Dezmer - Fourteen

"Stepan. I don't have that kind of money."

"I don't need much. My magic is decent so I can use my normal fishing boat as a base and expand it. Give me a few crew members, you know, maybe the other fishermen here. I know Bekim has a good level of magic, so we can take turns keeping the ship up."

"If that's the case, why ask me for money at all?"

"Well..." Stepan scratched the back of his neck, clearing his throat again. "We do need supplies and the others will probably want a salary."

If Stepan was right and something terrible was happening to ships out in the open water, then he wanted to take other people with him headlong into danger.

Then again, it would give him a reason to give the fishermen money to compensate for the lack of lodging sailors.

Placing his elbow on his knee, Tracou rested his chin in his hand. On the one hand, letting Stepan do this would solve the give-fishermen-money problem. On the other, Stepan and the others might find nothing but a watery grave. That would solve nothing. This could have been an acceptable loss had the population in Ergakan been high enough, but it wasn't. Stepan didn't have a family, not after his wife had perished from the sickness a few years ago, but the other fishermen did. Some of them had children.

It was just too dangerous.

Tracou abruptly stood up, startling Stepan and Mirthal both.

"No, I won't help you with this, Stepan. It's a terrible idea and you could end up getting people killed whether or not you find anything."

"But Lord Vartanian—!"

"No." Tracou turned to Mirthal, who had also stood up. "Let's go," he said to him in Aodehsh.

Naturally, Mirthal hopped up, eager to leave. He trotted after Tracou, not giving Stepan a second look.

"What did he want to talk to you about?"

Tracou clicked his tongue. "He wants to investigate something out in the ocean, but he'll just end up getting people killed. Plus he wanted me to pay for it."

"Something out in the ocean?"

"Ships are, supposedly, disappearing. Sailors usually make their way through Ergakan this time of year, but none of them have arrived in any port."

Disappearing ships. If Winlea had enough of that powder and the wind wasn't terribly strong, they could debilitate an entire crew. Then they wouldn't even need to destroy the ship. They could simply round up the dezmek on board and toss them off the side or take care of them on land and keep the ship for themselves. Fishing boats offered them nothing, but the Royal Navy sometimes built real ships humans could use.

Wouldn't this mean that Winlea had already won? Dezmer would be cut off from the ocean at least near Winlea, but perhaps everywhere. Then what would they do? It was much easier to travel by ship and engage in trade. Dezmer didn't trade much with Winlea, but they were heavily involved with the Zeibr and of course Aodehn.

"Winlea wants the ocean, too," Mirthal said slowly.

"Yes..."

"What if they're why the ships are disappearing?"

Tracou felt his stomach do a flip. Mirthal voicing his thoughts only made the danger more solid and far more likely to approach.

"I... don't know."

"Well, maybe it's not Winlea," Mirthal offered, trying to sound reassuring.

"Maybe..."

Silence took over. Tracou bit his cheek, putting all of his focus in the sound of their feet hitting the hard dirt below. Often, Mirthal tried to match his stride to Tracou's, but his long legs prevented that from lasting.

"Tracou, have you told anyone about the dust yet?"

"...No," he said with a wince.

"Oh. When will you?"

"Soon..."

"Okay." A pause. "This was the last stop, right? What else are you going to do today?"

"I have to meet with Serpouhi."

After waiting months for Tracou's return, Serpouhi wanted to get married. She wanted Tracou to be there for the actual celebration which meant that it had to happen before spring. No bride wanted a winter wedding, but she had waited for his return to share her day with him. And, from what Tracou understood, Garin, her husband to be, had been complaining about the wait.

Mentioning Serpouhi had a strange effect on Mirthal and it got worse each time. He would slide away from Tracou—his eyes would slide off of him, he would drift farther away, and even his words would slip limply past his lips.

"I see."

"You should get Pendaer to teach you how to ride a horse."

"Right."

Something was wrong. He tried saying a few more things to get Mirthal to say more than one word, but Mirthal devolved into grunts of acknowledgment. It was bizarre and frustrating, so Tracou dropped any attempt at conversation the rest of the way back to the manor. Why did Mirthal close off when he brought up Serpouhi? He let himself get dragged around Ergakan, listening to speech he couldn't understand, but this was what bothered him.

They went their separate ways when they got to the manor. Mirthal glided over Pendaer, who had been making arrows again. Tracou watched his back for a few seconds before going inside.