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34.2: LANDLUBBERS (part 2)

"Day, eh?" The first captain they asked squinted down at them. He was very tall and wore a very tall hat with a very tall feather on top. Rupert had high hopes for him. The vessel behind him was sleek and handsome, its deck orderly and polished to a shine. But Rupert's hopes were dashed almost immediately as the captain's brow furrowed. "Can't see why you'd be wanting to go there. That isn't a place for tourists." His gaze travelled over their tattered clothing, pausing for a longer moment on Rupert's evening dress. He quirked a groomed eyebrow. "Or runaways."

"Oh, but we're neither of those things," Harriet, beside Rupert, assured him. "We need to go there on... business."

The captain sucked his teeth. "Still, I won't be the one responsible."

"But—"

"That's a no, I said!"

They backed away from his frown.

"That was strange," said Harriet.

"Very," said Rupert.

To their surprise, they met with a similar reception from every other captain they asked. An hour later, they were still without passage and decidedly glum. Harriet plonked herself down on a pile of rope (piles of rope being plentiful on docksides, as is a well-known fact).

"Maybe you were right," she admitted to Rupert. "This was a silly idea."

Rupert spread his hands. "For what it's worth, now that I know I can go on a boat without screaming in terrible agony, I actually think it's a great idea." This was entirely true. Though his introduction to the maritime life had left him with bruises on top of those he'd already gained from falling off Sir Faltar's horse, Rupert had clambered out of the rowing boat with an unexpected emotion brewing: excitement. The vessels at anchor in the harbour were no longer implements of torture but promises of speed, whipping spray, and nautical derring-do. That is, if any of their captains would let Rupert and Harriet aboard. He plonked down next to Harriet. "Any other ideas?"

Juggalug fluttered to his shoulder and gave a reassuring peep.

"Thank you, Juggalug. But that's not going to get us to Day any faster, is it?"

"Day? Is that where you're looking to head?"

They looked around. A woman was standing a few feet away, regarding them. She wore a red brocade waistcoat on top of a shirt with billowing white sleeves, and a tricorn hat sat at a jaunty angle upon her braided hair. She was obviously not local to Urchester for her skin was pale as Harriet's, her nose and cheeks red with sunburn. Her thumbs were tucked into a leather belt from which hung the scabbard of a curved sword. Her expression, however, was friendly enough.

"Er," said Rupert. "Yes?"

"Then I might be able to help you." The woman grinned, the skin around her eyes crinkling. Untucking one thumb from her belt, she jabbed it over her shoulder. "My Hustler is about to set sail, and Day is where we're headed."

Rupert and Harriet looked. The ship bobbing behind the woman was not the prettiest of the ships in the harbour, nor the largest, nor, it must be said, the cleanest. It was a squat, bulky proposition with a few grumpy-looking crew moving sluggishly across its somewhat sloping deck. That said, it had a mast, and a wheel, and it was not noticeably sinking, so Rupert supposed it would do. It should be noted that Rupert did not know a lot about boats, for reasons previously stated. He looked at Harriet, who grimaced and gave a small shake of her head.

Rupert frowned at her. Sailing to Day had been her idea, after all, and this looked to be their only chance. He decided to take control. After all, Harriet had been making lots of the decisions around here lately. (In his annoyance, Rupert failed to take into account the fact that Harriet's decisions had all been pretty good ones.) "That would be wonderful," he announced.