Of course, their captive assassin offered a handful of details to ward off his torture. His name, Gathim, and his claimed stash of coin in the port of Maykren did not. Aralim had no use for treasure, so they didn’t go in search of it.
The Ake’ma River widened until Aralim thought they were sailing across a lake. A few buildings appeared on islands in the lake, and the islands turned into wide branches of land covered in city. Their rowboat drifted through the delta alongside a thousand other riverboats. Citizens of Maykren wandered along the banks or piloted city watercraft between buildings. Some shops seemed to have storefronts on the waterfronts, adjoined with docks, while also allowing access from the streets of the islands. Aralim watched a bridge passing overhead as their guards eased the rows through the water.
“Will we be in Maykren for long?” Dullah asked.
Aralim shook his head. “Just passing through,” he said. He looked back at Gathim and Sergeant Grendar; the prisoner was weary, constantly, thanks to their nighttime activities to keep him spilling secrets, but watched the passing buildings with wide eyes. He had assured Aralim that getting the coin he’d stashed here would be useful, and couldn’t comprehend leaving it behind. But, they would not be.
“Do you know anyone in Maykren?” Aralim asked.
Dullah nodded. “A few childhood friends live here, as well as a score of business contacts.” She had donned her linen shirt as they approached the city, and watched the passing people with a small smile. She looked at him from the corner of the eye. “And you?”
“Maybe,” Aralim said. “Two of the people who journeyed with me from Old Numa stayed here, Ukanna and Laney. And a woman I met on the way to Rema left one day—who knows? She may have come back this way.” Naeen has spent months with them, only to disappear without a farewell. She’d been a brooding and sad woman, but Aralim had always hoped she would find something about the Path in her own way.
“You must encounter a lot of travellers on the way,” Dullah said, her smile fading. “I assume most of them are better than him.”
Aralim looked away from the cityscape of Maykren again. The delta city filled his senses, but when he looked at Gathim, all he could do was wonder. What had the botched assassination attempt been about? Had its poor execution been planned?
The riverboat drifted onward. In Maykren, they’d be securing passage aboard a proper ocean galleon, and sail across Trader’s Bay. Aralim’s history, his time as a ship’s mate, had given him a small amount of pride in the long list of water bodies he had sailed upon. Having walked the old Cliff Road on his arrival in Numa’nakres, sailing Trader’s Bay was an accomplishment he’d not yet claimed.
“I guess not,” Dullah said, turning away. She’d still been waiting for Aralim to speak up while his mind had wandered. He turned, on his lantern staff, but didn’t have much to say as a reply.
When he turned, he saw a child sitting on the steps that led under a nearby bridge. The boy looked at his lantern staff, as the riverboat passed, and then met Aralim’s eyes. He lifted his hand in a wave. Aralim curiously waved back, before they disappeared down river, amidst swarms of small street boats.