The water in the bay of Keda was dark, lurid water, and it stank of dead fish. As the sun set behind them, the crew of the Vanci Dispatch rowed, without saying a word, toward the sprawling city. Kedar was not the largest port they had visited, but it was a large one. It was the danger of their task that instilled the silence upon the ship, and Captain Vanci, at the helm, did nothing to sooth them.
From here, the grand towers of the city seemed like small outposts on a rocky plateau. Nowhere had the same cityscape as Kedar, the jagged peaks of power that defined the unending struggle here. Some towers were themed, like the infamous Wide Tower, and the striped Tower of Black and Blue, with its darkly shingled roof.
“Tell Omma to start bringing the weapons up top,” Vanci said. Aside from his lips, only his eyes moved, flicking over to Renado for a moment, and then back ahead of the Dispatch. Both his hands gripped the wheel.
Renado remained where he was for a moment, leaning against the railing beside his uncle. He glanced at Asar and said, “Tell Omma to start bringing the weapons up top.”
Vanci sighed, while Asar jumped to. The mercenary leapt from the helm dais to the main deck of the ship, and knelt beside the largest of the rowers. A moment later, the man rested his oar and went below deck, with Asar still in tow.
“I don’t know why you have to be so difficult,” Vanci drawled. They were getting closer to the docks now, and Vanci barked, “Oars in!” as they began navigating around other ships anchored in the harbour.
“I’m not your errand boy,” Renado said. He rose off the railing and walked along the deck, between the rowers. He purposefully didn’t look at Bran, but nodded to a couple of the others.
The Dispatch reached the dock a few moments later. Half a dozen of the sailors aboard stood at the ready with hands on swords, their own weapons, not the crates that had been brought up from below deck. Renado was the first one onto the wharf. He held his sword hilt in one hand, and a rope in the other. Stomping onto the wooden planks, he wrapped the rope around a mooring post, and then stood sentry as other crewmen followed his lead.
The torches and lanterns of the port lit up some spots, but left others in shadow. The port was still crowded and busy, and fifty pairs of eyes watched Renado as he guarded the mooring. Before long, Vanci stood beside him. They both wore a silver pin over their heart, a silver brooch in the shape of an eye, coloured green in the centre. The Eye of Gharo. Vanci wore a buttoned white shirt and a pale red sash around his waist, while Renado dressed to impress. His sash was a dark green, and he wore a slashed mantle around his neck of the same colour, as well as another silver clasp, at the neck, this one square.
“Shove off,” Renado told the nearest man, who squatted with a fishing rod on the dock. There was no law in Kedar, and any man could be a thief. Or a killer.
The fisherman bowed his head and ran away, despite the sword at his waist. Common citizens only survived in Kedar one of two ways: caution or sharp objects. Often, it took both to keep them alive until old age or some sea-borne illness stopped their heart.
“Where’s Yigal?” Renado asked.
“Should be in the harbour somewhere,” Vanci said. “That was the plan. Asar, watch the ship. And the cargo.”
“’course,” came the other smuggler’s reply.
“Ren, Karsef, with me,” Vanci said.
“Boss,” Renado said, sarcastically.
Their buyer was not at the drop. The more time their boat was moored to that dock, the more likely it was to be attacked. The more powerful enemies would be watching. The Eye of Gharo saw all, and his hands grasped all crimes, but even the Gharo family had no healthy business in the anarchy that had become Kedar. Karsef stuck to their heels, with a long curved sword at his waist, its hilt in his hand.
As the wharf met the shoreline, the lapping of waves did not drown out the voices of the sailors, merchants and bandits that worked or traded in the harbour. “Another ship,” said one of the older men, to his comrade. His friend and he were surrounded by at least ten guards.
Vanci walked right up to them, with Ren and Karsef in tow. “You know the green eye?” he asked. They shrugged. “A gold coin then, for information.”
“Depends on the information,” the old man said. He sat beneath a stone archway, lit by quiet lanterns, that made the sweat around his neck glisten. “And the gold.”
Vanci flicked him a piece, and the man lifted it to his lips. “The gold’s good. Looking for Yigal. Local arms dealer.”
“Local whoreson, more like,” the old man said, and his friend laughed. The port master made the gold piece disappear into his yellow and grey robe, then lifted a pipe to his lips, then gave a long puff. Smelled like tobacco, but there was something else in the air. Blood, maybe. It was Kedar, after all.
Renado shook his head. “You know where to find him, or not?”
“Watch your child,” the old man said to Vanci, and Renado flushed red. He put his hand on his sword, but Vanci shook his head sternly. Before things escalated further, the old port master shrugged and opened his palms to them. “I know this man, yes. He was strung up day before last, from the city gate. Hung. The premises indicated ‘twere the Black and Blue. They control the gates, most days.”
“Son of the sea,” Vanci cursed.
“Why?”
The old man shrugged at Renado’s question. “He stole from someone, or cheated, or cheated with someone, or maybe his hair looked bad to the wrong person. It’s Kedar, pup. Be gone!”
Renado had no trouble doing that. He strode out of the ring of guards without waiting for Vanci, but his uncle was close behind him. They strode halfway back to the Dispatch before Vanci grabbed hold of Gharo’s son once more, by the elbow. “What now, do you think?”
“Put the Dispatch out,” Renado said. “And we’ll find a new buyer.”
“That’s a dangerous plan,” Vanci said.
“That’s why we’re here,” Renado countered. “Gods forsaken Kedar was a dangerous plan, from the very start.”
Vanci nodded. “We’ll leave Asar in charge, and take two with us. Keep the ship on the edge of the port. A few days, tops, in this city. We get a buyer, good. We don’t, we have to leave anyway. And face your father’s wrath.” He looked at Renado as though waiting for the usual reply.
Ren rolled his eyes and said, “He was your brother first.” Vanci laughed, and started back toward his beloved ship.