Gharo was adamant as ever, and Lerran had to drag the permission out of his father word by word. When at last Gharo relented, Lerran strode briskly from his father’s office. He had no interest in delaying. His brother had been gone for too long, too long for his father’s bitter patience, too long for the winds to carry Lerran south, too long for another restless day. They were a family. They had to watch out for one another. And Gadra, one of Lerran’s sisters, would get her chance to shine in Lerran’s absence.
The fastest ship in their fleet was Storm, a small double-mast schooner with a single deck and a cargo hold. It was similar in shape to Vanci’s Dispatch, but could travel significantly faster. By evening they had it all laden up with supplies and the crew list notified and prepped.
The night of the 2nd, they slept in their homes, with their family, and waited for the winds of the morrow. For Lerran, home was Gharo’s estate, and his bed was for himself and his wife, Tassina. Close to dawn, Tass and he sat awake. She was holding him, her palms around his elbow. They both wanted children, but it hadn’t happened yet. “Does it have to be you who goes?”
“I’m sorry,” Lerran whispered. He put his other hand on hers. “It does have to be me.”
She sighed, and put her head on his shoulder.
About an hour before the sun was visible, Storm began unfurling sails and unmooring from the dock. The sun was well on its ascent when they set out from port.
At the helm of Storm was Captain Urro and First Mate Dorrig, in command of a crew of ten. Lerran was the highest ranking member of the Gharo organization, though. Captain Urro would obey his orders no matter what, even if it cost them the ship. There was no foolishness like the Captain must go down with his ship. Not in Gharo.
“It’s a long voyage to Kedar,” Urro said.
“If that’s even where Ren is,” Lerran interjected.
Urro nodded, and relented the helm to his first mate. “I mean to suggest our course. Shall we sail direct, and risk being blown off course? The sea has been unfriendly of late, after that typhoon. Might be safer to travel by way of the Great Isle. ‘Tis a longer voyage, to be certain, but we could refresh our stocks there, instead of fishing ‘til we all have scurvy.”
“Very well,” Lerran said. “We’ll be safe. Ren and Vanci been out here for long enough anyway, that he must have put in to a port somewhere.”
“To the Great Isle, then.” Urro patted Dorrig and began walking down from the helm. “About ten days, give or take a few.”