Reyr the Gold (Dragonwall Series # 2)

Chapter 20 - Port of Squall's End

Stormy Bay

Captain Bennett paid no mind to the angry sky. Normally the weather had a greater effect on him. He was a seafaring man after all, but today, he was too focused on getting ashore. He kept his attention on the task at hand. The port of Squall's End stretched out before the Lady Faith. It was a grand sight to any man of the sea eager for the comforts of land: a good washing, strong spirits, hearty grub, tavern wenches, and a soft bed. The bay waters were full of ships today—barges laden with grain and fish, cogs with their sails furled, and even a few hulks to ferry passengers about the bay.

Many familiar sounds carried out over the water: He could hear the ringing of bells on the docks, clanging as they bobbed back and forth, the shouting of people who loaded and unloaded their wares from boats, and the cawing of ever-present seagulls swooping beneath the clouds.

Since the pirate attack, three of his injured men had died. They made great haste to reach the port, but the festering of a wound could not be helped. Therefore, his first matter of business was to entrust those in need of care to the healers. It would cost him a fortune, servicing their wounds, but he would pay it.

"Ready to go ashore, cap'n?" His first mate gazed at him with eager eyes.

"Aye."

Very carefully, the injured men were hoisted down into the ship's rowboats. Some were well enough to climb the ladder, others had to be lowered in hammocks (these moaned and groaned with each movement of the ropes). Only when they were comfortably set did he follow them into the small boats. The remainder of the crew was ordered to guard the cargo.

The water on the bay was choppy today as the wind whipped about them, but it was nothing a good seafaring man couldn't handle. It took them some time to get their little boats to the docks. While they finished securing them, a dock manager appeared just as it started to rain. "Where is your captain?" he said with a pompous air of authority.

Bennett knew his type. Dock managers often felt themselves masters of the world. He took a deep breath and with all the patience he could muster said, "Yer lookin' at him." He refrained from saying "boy" even though the dock manager looked green as grass.

"Ship name, please?"

"Lady Faith."

The young man pulled out his ledger, which immediately began absorbing water droplets. "Oh, drat this rain! Let us get under shelter where I can do this properly." He stuffed the ledger back into his coat.

Their little group rushed over the wooden planking to the eave of a nearby storage house. As they went, Bennett instructed his first mate to take the wounded directly to the town's healers. The dock manager looked as though he might protest. All men coming and going were to be documented in the ledgers before entering the city.

Bennett shoved a gold dragon into his gloved hand. "I will handle the business with you, let them be."

The man gave him a well-understood nod and began scribbling. "Reason for port?"

He sighed. These tedious matters were always a pain, but he was forced to go through them. The ports liked to keep records of everything to cover their backs should suspicious persons enter their cities. They also tracked the cargo and goods that entered within their domain. He was not going to divulge the details of what he was carrying. Fortunately, it was not necessary. Since he would not be bringing his cargo land-side, the dock master had no business knowing what he carried. He had to pay a fee to anchor in the bay. He had plenty of money left over from his advanced payment to handle that. The king had paid him well. All in all, the matter of documenting his crew took longer than he wished, but at last, he finished running through names and reasons for entry—which were entirely made up—and was free to enter the city.