The Journal of Anther Strein

Delta City, The Great River's Terminus

Moonsday 16th of Corper, 787 AoC

With the new part successfully installed – a secretive affair which we were not allowed to witness - our journey downstream continued apace. The various branches of the bayou re-combined into the river's single fantastic trunk, and then divided once more as it streamed into the Great Delta. Seabirds began to appear overhead; the rainforest's eucalypts, palms and raintrees gave way gradually to mangrove, and mangrove then to kelp forest and open ocean. It is into this vast body of water, the West Spine Ocean, that the Veduka River finally pours, but not before filtering through the islands of the Great Delta. Such is the force of this outpouring that, for much of the year, the waters remain unsalted for some distance, and are visible long before land to vessels approaching from the northeast. Such ships often use the muddied water to guide their way to Delta Harbour. Assisting in this task are the great light-towers of Delta City, one of which I sit in the shadow of while writing these words.

Delta Kingdom occupies the hundreds of islands that make up its namesake, the river delta at the Veduka River's terminus. Delta City stands strung between three of these – Ocean Island, River Island and Delta [1] Island. Island. On the north-eastern tip of Ocean Island, Badaharbour points seaward and is used by ocean vessels, while the smaller Kangharbour occupies the southern end of River Island, open to rivercraft. The most significant port in all the Paluchard Kingdoms, Delta City is the gateway between the Veduka River, along with its many tributaries, and the Spine Ocean, and with it the entire coast of Proesus and beyond. Here cargo from across the Rainforest, carried on the flow of the River, is traded outward toward every seaport on the continent; the riverships, meanwhile, embark upriver laden with foreign goods, in high demand by the inland states. Other Paluchard Kingdoms have made grabs for the valuable Delta harbours in the past, but any resulting dominion has failed to endure beyond a few years. Especially compared to the mammoth Swamplands not so far upriver, tiny Delta has always wielded disproportionate power over the region.

Prentis and I said our farewells to the Wise Proverb and her captain, ship and Paluchard accepting the parting with a similar apathy. After disembarking in Kangharbour, the two of us made as directly as possible for Badaharbour. Our journey was facilitated by the broad, well-paved highway connecting the two harbours, upon which a steady flow of carts passes in either direction, laden with goods of every description and hauled by elari and gambuk. Here, the king of Delta leverages his position quite astutely--every one of these carts is rented to interested merchants by the state, it being illegal to carry one's own goods between the harbours. Perhaps this, and other tariffs of the sort, account for the state-of-the-art navy decorating the nation's waterways. To the king's credit, the fleet of wheeled transports is well-maintained, and includes a number of carriages, both private and omnibus, for personal transportation. For a small fee, one of the latter sort conveyed us through Delta City, across the bridge connecting the River and Ocean islands, and to our destination in Badaharbour.

Delta City consists largely of the stifling noise, gritty heat, questionable scent and overstimulating motion found in any metropolis, but amplified substantially above that found in Bayou, Kaagmester or Arcing--and, to be quite fair, in substantially better repair. Although each of those other cities has some economic importance, none of them are quite so prosperous as this seaside metropolis. It reminds one, in its vociferous swarming, of a beehive, only possessing far less underlying order, and being far less interesting to watch. Still, some measure of peace may be found at the headlands of Badaharbour.

A pair of light-towers stand here, at either end of the harbour, while a third completes the triangle on a much smaller island to the north-east. They are, it must be admitted, quite impressive among Paluchard works, being among the tallest structures still standing in Proesus. Their design, cunningly wrought from granite, recalls sketches I have seen of the purported ship-burning Beam Tower of ancient Antithetus – a redolence, although reduced in scale, that is no doubt deliberate. Why such a feat was necessary when an arrangement of more conventional scale would have quite sufficed is unclear, but I suppose hearts and minds must have something to do with it. All that tithe money must go somewhere, and one can only build so many warships. I write these words in the shade of the northern tower, having enjoyed a pleasant climb along the winding paths, enclosing which a natural environment has been allowed to remain, to the promontory summit. Not particularly caring to see any more of the city, I retreated here after my visit to the wharfs--a visit which brooks some retelling!

***

In brief, I have found passage to Forum, on the Maragana fishing vessel Connotation. Upon arrival to the docks, Prentis and I first consulted a pair of uniformed wharf officials, waving their tails lazily back and forth to dissuade mosquitoes. Between the two of them, they were able to assemble enough knowledge of Swamplander to point us toward a bone-white Maragana craft docked at the fifth wharf. They informed me that it was bound for Forum.

Maragana sailors are known to occasionally offer cheap transport in exchange for unskilled labour, so we stood a fair chance of obtaining passage. I approached the ship's captain, who was directing preparations for departure on the main deck. Despite the inadvertent intimidation offered by her great height, sharp teeth and rumbling voice, filtered through an accent which proved difficult to pierce, I found her entirely more pleasant to deal with than her counterpart aboard the Wise Proverb. To my delight, she is fluent in Proesine, a language I've lacked much opportunity to converse properly in lately--I fear I grow rusty.

Although listening attentively as I made our case, she seemed reluctant to take us--until I mentioned my aspirations as a naturalist, upon which she asked to see my notes and sketches. I produced what I had, flipping through this very journal. Apparently impressed with my detailed observations (to which she was happy to offer minor, on-the-spot corrections), I seemed now to gain enough trust [2] from her to learn of the voyage's true purpose.

In fact, as she told me, the Connotation is not bound directly for Forum--this was a small lie told to dissuade those who might follow the fisherpeople from port. They have just sold the last of their catch in Delta City and are to return to their secret fisheries to re-stock. Where, she would not say – I was fortunate to be told even this much while still in port--except that some lie within the Jaw Sea, taking us quite far out of the way to Forum [3].

I was given this information in an effort to dissuade me, but this is actually a most fortunate circumstance! Not only is the reduced fee a boon--the pittance remaining of our funds, having dwindled dangerously since reaching the Rainforest, would not cover a direct passage for both Prentis and myself--but the Bloom is building even as I write, and by the time we arrive in the Jaw it should be in full swing! I have dearly wished to bear witness to the phenomenon since reading of it as a child, and this is the ideal opportunity. I was unable to conceal my joy at this news, as a more tactful negotiator might have done to arrange further discount, but it was of no matter. If anything, my naked enthusiasm may have been the factor that prompted the captain to relent. She offered me a place on the voyage, conditional on my word that the locations of their fisheries go unmentioned in my notes. I was only too happy to acquiesce.

I suspect that the Maragana are arranging their journey around the Bloom as well, for fish of all species become more abundant during its throes. Maragana fishermen tend to specialise in rare or difficult catches. The secrecy surrounding their practices exists to keep non-Maragana competitors from springing up - not merely, they claim, for financial reasons (although I am certain this must play a role), but because others would not have the wisdom or the self-restraint, accumulated over generations, to conserve the fragile populations that the Maragana fish from. I will reserve judgment on the veracity of this motivation until I have witnessed their practices in person.

***

[1] Creativity and originality in naming were clearly not high among the priorities of this nation's founders.

[2] Those who study the natural world, it seems, are revered in Maragana society. How flattering.

[3] I'm not that sure she should have been so quick to offer even this--revered or not, I know more than one naturalist of less than unimpugnable reputation, who might have agreed to secrecy only to publish a paper on the secret fisheries as soon as he returned to land.