The Faintest Ink (Watty Winner 2015)

Chapter Eighty-Nine

It was said that any person with half a mind to, could explore everything that the Western Isles had to offer just by visiting the docks of the Serradorian capital.

With the city sealed off by the high walls, any merchant aiming to offload his wares to the cosmopolitan and monied capital dwellers would be prudent to bring them in by ship rather than road. That being the case, an educated eye would be able to pick out, on any given day, fluyts from Falmagne laden with lace and wines, and caravels from Pryvia stacked with colourful silks. Spices came from outside the confines of the Isles, in galleons so tightly packed the oaken keel took on the scent of peppercorns and paprika.

Neither Blossom nor the boys were much interested in any of this. Ochre and Madder had started up a game of knots, marking their positions with their fingers in the dirt strewn about the dock. Blossom had given up trying to stop them.

She sat, curled up, with her legs tucked under her, ontop of a crate, watching as her father talked to one of the captains. It didn't look like it was going very well. Viridian was gesturing a great deal, his hands flying all over the place, following the captain along the dock as he was doing his best to escape.

She was beginning to see the pattern to it. Her father would approach a ship, and ask around until he found out who was in charge. The captain would be located, sometimes over-worked and frantically ordering the dock-workers to finish loading the ship, other times underneath a table in one of the taverns, and then the negotiations would start. But no matter how much ale the captain had consumed, it never took them long to figure out that Viridian had no money.

It appeared that they had now reached this point in record time. The captain had already turned away and was running for the gangway, jumping over a pile of sacks in his desperation to get away.

Viridian slumped, his shoulders curling over as if a puppet master had let go of the strings. Blossom prepared a suitably sympathetic expression on her face as regained his posture and turned around, with a big smile on his face.

"Rats," he said, with a mock shudder as he jogged back to them. "He was trying to hide it, but I saw two of them, big as cats, climbing up the ropes. I don't want my babies on some plague-ridden bilge." The smile faltered for a moment. "I'll find a better boat."

Ochre looked up from his place on the ground. "They're ships, Papa," he said, sounding exasperated before turning back to the game going on in the dirt.

"Right you are, son," said Viridian, nodding.

Madder whooped as he drew a line through his row of knots and declared himself winner. He looked up, his gappy smile taking over half his face. "I won!" he said proudly.

"That's great."

As if for the first time, Madder looked about him. "Where's Lake?"

"She's with Mama," said Viridian, his smile becoming more strained by the second.

"Where's Mama?"asked Madder, clearly not giving up.

"With Lake," said Blossom matter-of-factly. She untangled one foot from her skirts, and then wiped away the markings the boys have made. "Have another game," she said. "Go on, Ochre. You can't let yourself be beaten by a five-year-old. Best of three."

Ochre groaned, but drew the grid once again.

Blossom smiled at her father, and he nodded his thanks before leaning down to ruffle the hair on both of the boy's heads.

"Well then," said Viridian. "I better get going. There must be one ship I haven't tried yet. You'll be alright here, with these chaps, won't you?"

Blossom shrugged. "I suppose," she lied. She didn't want her father to find a ship. It was all wrong. They should never have left Mama and Lake behind. They couldn't leave. Papa didn't even know where they were going. He would put them on any ship that would take them. Which meant that Mama would have no idea where they were going, or how to find them. He was trying to tear them apart. And she couldn't bear it.