Soulwoven

Chapter Thirty-One

~31~

Quay Eldani wiped a droplet of spray from his nose only to feel it replaced by another. The little drips were cold and clear, and they ran together and fell from his skin onto warm cedar planks below his feet. Occasionally, one ran over his lips. Their taste was sweet and clean.

He stood on the foredeck of a long, narrow river galley, and it was taking him north to sail for home.

The craft planed eloquently over the flat, blue surface of the river Derumar. Its oars dipped and rose, dipped and rose, flashing in the morning sun and sending water flying skyward. A white sail hung furled over Quay’s head. Green floodplains beamed bright and warm on either side of him. The galley smelled of cedar, earthy water, and sweat.

And the lines of the story that the Prince of Eldan had hoped to live had fallen apart long ago.

Cole and Litnig and their friends were scattered in ones and twos across the slender sweep of the galley. They would not speak to Quay. Their eyes smoldered in sunken dissatisfaction. Only Len, Leramis, and the rotund, tattooed Aleani captain of their vessel still stood with the prince.

Quay rubbed the bridge of his nose. A trace of the scar he had picked up fighting in Du Fenlan still lingered there, though the Aleani had been kind enough to heal the worst of it.

Quay had Len to thank for that.

The Aleani was watching the mountains slide by with a pained, solemn look in his eyes. The wind tugged at his dreadlocks. His skin glistened in the bright light.

In the days since Len had secured his people’s assistance, Quay had been given supplies, money, and passage north to meet a ship in Du Nath to take him home. He had everything he needed.

But his heart was tearing itself apart.

Quay had not spoken with Len about the decision to leave him behind in the tunnels, but it haunted him every day. He had made the hard choice. He had done what he thought had to be done.

And in the end, he had been wrong.

Quay sipped fragrant water from a pouch on his hip. The oars beat steadily. The sun pounded down.

The members of his party were worn out. They were frustrated. They had come to resent him.

But they followed.

Mother, he thought. Saen—what would you do?

The mountains gave him no answers.

#

As the Aleani galleteer had promised, the great northern port of Du Nath became visible mid-morning on the galley’s second day of travel. Its whitewashed, multi-storied buildings sprawled haphazardly across the coastline and the ancient green delta of the Derumar. The turquoise waters of the North Sea twinkled in the bright sun beyond it. White beaches sparkled around its periphery. Tall stacks of dark rock caught white-capped waves in thunderous cascades beyond the harbor.

The port itself, on which the city centered, was horseshoe shaped and compact. Quay spotted close to a hundred ships crammed into the harbor behind its long seawall. Some flew the colors of Aleani ports. Some hailed from Nutharion or the Barin Isles. Others bore colors the prince had never seen. The merchants of Eldan said one could find anything in Du Nath—Aleani livestock, Nutharian spices, exotic Islander fruits and wood, even smuggled Eldanian horses. When they spoke of its bazaar, it was in hushed, reverent tones.

Quay Eldani entered the city of merchants’ dreams in the late morning, just as spring was awakening in the northern mountains. The outer neighborhoods of Du Nath gleamed three and four stories high to either side of him. The river’s blue waters turned green as they flowed into a deep channel lined with stone walls.