Waterborne (Wanderlust 3)

Chapter Five

Tanden made sure to make the next day difficult for Soren, although he did as he had agreed. He sat on a chair on the quarter deck, feet propped up on the bulwark. Whenever Soren was close enough to hear him, Tanden switched between dramatic complaining about how bored he was, to admittedly crude teasing and flirting. Soren ignored him with the type of patience that came from experience. It was getting so hard to shake him, which only made Tanden more determined to find a way.

When Soren wasn't around, someone else was. Ara, showing him a drawing of the Cratian city. Jale, bickering and teasing the way Tanden imagined a sister would. Ivern, coaxing him into a conversation about their next destination. Jerios, speaking solely in Deoran under the guise of making him practice. Roan, singing sea shanties. It was obvious Soren had set up a schedule, but as much as Tanden wanted to hate the fact that he was being minded, he appreciated the effort to keep him from getting bored.

And he had to admit, begrudgingly, that the day of rest did help his ankle. He knew that days, even weeks of rest was the best way to heal. He was just so bad at sitting still. But he managed for the day, and that was all he had promised.

The next day, after Soren announced who would be having shore leave and when, Tanden pulled him aside.

"I'm going into the city. You can stay here, or come with me." He continued in a rush, cutting off Soren's protest. "Once I find a translator, I'll rest. I promise."

Soren crossed his arms. "So we're going out today to find a translator? Not to explore?"

Tanden hoped those options would go hand in hand, but yes, the focus would be the translator. He nodded. "Of course. Please, mate. I won't be so restless if I have something to concentrate on."

"I know," Soren agreed. "Aye, all right. I'll just let Ivern know where we're going." He walked over, leaving Tanden near the gangway.

He wouldn't be completely happy with a translator, not compared to exploring the city and talking to locals. But learning a new language or two would keep him occupied.

When Soren returned, it was with Jale in tow. Soren didn't wait for Tanden to ask, just nodded. "Aye, she's coming because she isn't afraid to tell you when you've had enough."

"Ah. So you're outnumbering me."

"Also, I'm on leave," Jale added with a smile. "And I'd rather follow you two around than go off on my own."

Tanden returned her smile. "Well, in that case, you're welcome to join us." He turned around, accepted Soren's help to step up onto the gangway, and soon was leading the way through the maze of docks.

He had given this hunt quite a bit of thought, and believed he had narrowed down the likeliest place to find someone fluent in multiple languages, who might also be looking for money. A port tavern. Ports were a place for coming and going. They were always filled with people from different countries, who spoke different languages. They were always filled with people looking for work. And those two types of people would converge in taverns. Tanden was pretty certain of that.

They wandered through the port, stepping into any building they passed by that seemed like a tavern. The first few they visited yielded no results. Tanden asked, but no one could speak any of the languages he knew. He was getting frustrated, both at the lack of a promising teacher, and his ankle, when he decided to try one last tavern.

At first glance it seemed like a higher class establishment. The lighting was better, the tables and chairs not only matched but looked sturdy and clean. The patrons were clearly richer, as well, with nicer clothes, sitting in small groups talking. In the corner, a girl sung softly while playing an instrument. There was no rowdy fighting, no rude arguing. It immediately seemed like a more promising place to look.