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Sweet vindication. Sjan-dehk could hardly think of a better way to start his sojourn in Sorian.

His first taste of a harbour in months went exactly as he had hoped. No stuffy official reception waiting for him, no rehearsed script to recite and best of all, no nobility to talk circles around him. Just an overworked and surly – rightfully so, Sjan-dehk would add – harbour master all too eager to move on with his mountain of duties once their terse negotiations over berths and payment concluded. The frazzled man had barely given what was likely the first Viserjantan to set foot in Sorian in decades a cursory look. Sjan-dehk was back on the water and aboard his [i]Sada Kurau[/i] well before the hour was up.

That was fortunate for him but not so much for the royal tutor. The second thing Sjan-dehk did once he returned – the first was to change out of his garish clothes for his more comfortable usual attire – was to seek out the old man and throw a few teasing barbs and witticisms his way over his earlier fretting. To the tutor’s credit, he had taken it all in stride. Aside from a few grumbles and muted protests, he had offered few words in response. Neither did he seem too upset when he eventually left for the [i]Sudah[/i], even offering a few parting words of advice to Sjan-dehk, namely reminding the captain to keep up with his lessons in the local tongue.

Which was good; none of Sjan-dehk’s words carried any real malice. It was all just some good-natured fun before the hard graft that came with a ship in harbour. Careening a ship in shallow waters only allowed the crew to do so much. Most of the work that went into keeping a ship seaworthy could only be carried out whilst docked. For the [i]Sada Kurau[/i], that meant at least a few days of constant toil. Sjan-dehk liked to keep his ship ready for action at a moment’s notice.

And while the [i]Celestine[/i] was under his care, that meant the same for her. Such was the reason Sjan-dehk and his carpenter found themselves in the bowels of their newly acquired prize.

“Careful, captain,” Hai-shuun said with a cough as he carefully stepped over a collapsed pillar. A loud thud echoed throughout the dark and cramped confines as the heavy broadsword sheathed on his hip crashed against the sodden wood. “Fuck!” Were it not for the speed with which he shot out a hand to steady himself against the hull, he would have surely fallen into the murky, ankle-high water. “Remind me again, captain, why must we be armed while on [i]our[/i] prize?” He grumbled.

[color=1E90FF]“You’re the one who wanted to put our prisoners to work, master Hai-shuun. If anything, I’m the one with the right to complain.”[/color] Sjan-dehk followed close behind. If the carpenter was having a hard time making his way through this mire with his one weapon, Sjan-dehk had it far worse with the veritable armoury he had on his person. Two swords and two pistols on his sides, two more across his front, and a further two on his lower back. All of them seemed to conspire to press against him in the most uncomfortable of ways as he squeezed his way through the narrow space. [color=1E90FF]“This is a bloody foul place.”[/color]

It was. Stale and mouldy air hung like a thick blanket over the two men. Despite the scarves wrapped tightly around their mouths and noses, the vile stench of wet rot still managed to worm its way into their lungs. Heavy droplets dripping from the ceiling drummed an irregular rhythm against wood, water, and sometimes their heads. It was enough for Sjan-dehk to wish that he had worn his hat down here, its likely cumbersomeness be damned. Were it not for the lantern carried by Hai-shuun casting its flickering orange glow in a tight aura, they would have been in total darkness.

“Nothing a bit of cleaning up can’t fix, captain,” Hai-shuun called back. “My boys will have this place good as new by sundown, you can be sure of it.” He stopped at a thick pillar that had clearly seen far, far better days. An immense, pale fissure running along its length all but bisected it. Jagged gaps marked where great chunks had broken away. A maze of planks and sailcloth had been nailed and tied around the damages, but they were clearly fighting a losing battle. “Except for this, captain. This is what I wanted to show you.”

[color=1E90FF]“The main mast.”[/color] Years of being a carpenter’s apprentice allowed Sjan-dehk to quickly recognise what he was looking at. That, and there was likely nothing else aboard a ship as small as the [i]Celestine[/i] that called for such a strong and sturdy piece of wood.

“Yes, captain.” Hai-shuun gave it a few tentative pats. In the dim glow, Sjan-dehk swore he almost saw a flash of regret in the man’s bark-brown eyes. “Damn shame. It’s a fine piece of wood. Our gunners must have given it a good smashing on the gundeck and wrenched the whole damn thing hard enough to crack it down here. A few more hits like those and we would’ve dismasted her and taken half the hull with it.”

Sjan-dehk let out a low whistle and gave a slow nod of approval. [color=1E90FF]“Dismasting a ship through her hull, who would’ve thought.”[/color] For a moment, his mind raced with the possibilities of such a tactic, but the moment passed as quickly as it started. There was a more pressing matter that needed his attention. He cleared his throat. [color=1E90FF]“We’ll have to replace the whole thing, by the looks of it. That likely means new rigging and new stays as well. What’re the conditions of her sails?”[/color]

“Not a scratch, captain. She had them furled when we engaged her.”

That was one piece of good news, at least. [color=1E90FF]“Excellent. What about her fore mast? Can’t imagine that one got away unscathed when we shot this one to splinters.”[/color]

Hai-shuun tilted his chin towards the bow. “I’ve already had a look, captain. A few knocks and scratches here and there, but nothing we can’t patch up. I’d reckon the main mast took and deflected whatever shots that would’ve struck the fore mast.”

More good news. They had taken prizes in worse conditions before. Far worse; some were little more than flotsam by the time they were towed into port. With those prizes, however, they had the option of keeping them, either to be refitted as a new addition to Jafi’s navy, or sold for scrap. Neither option was viable with the [i]Celestine[/i]. Not without the possibility of causing unnecessary trouble, at least. [color=1E90FF]“Think we can get these Sorian nobles to pay for a new mast?”[/color] He wondered with a mirthless chuckle.

Hai-shuun responded with one of his own. “Perhaps if we sent Avek. Man’s got a gifted tongue.”

Sjan-dehk sighed. [color=1E90FF]“A shame we can’t.”[/color] He looked the damaged mast up and down. Certainly, it had to be replaced if the [i]Celestine[/i] was to ever safely take to the seas under her own sails again. That meant finding the right wood, putting together the right crew, maybe even hiring a few extra hands, and then there was the additional costs of tackles and ropes for rigging and stays. No small expense, to be sure. Sjan-dehk would have happily footed the cost had it been certain that he would be able to keep her. As things stood, he still had to offer the ship to whoever it was that ruled this city as a sign of goodwill. A simple act of politeness, if nothing else, but still it meant that the Celestine could be out of his control by day’s end. 

Of course, he could simply offer up a ruined ship and be done with it, but that simply wouldn’t do. If he had to present the [i]Celestine[/i] to anyone, she would be as close to prime and pristine condition as possible. His honour as a captain demanded nothing less. Besides, even Sjan-dehk knew that offering what was little more than floating salvage to a foreign noble would be impolite at best. A perceived slight or even insult at worst. He groaned inwardly. Such matters of courtly decorum were far too complicated for his liking. 

[color=1E90FF]“How long would you need to fix this mess?”[/color] He asked and glanced at Hai-shuun.

The carpenter sucked on his lip and placed his hands on his hips. For a moment, he said nothing as he examined the damaged mast in detail with scrying eyes. “We can probably have this uprooted by nightfall if we work fast,” he began slowly, moving a hand to scratch his chin. “If we can find the wood to replace it by today, I can have my boys start shaping it tomorrow morning. Then we’ll have to put together a crew to raise it, and that should take us another day.” He paused and tapped his fingers against his thumb in sequence several times. “I could have this repaired in three, maybe four days. Five at most.”

Sjan-dehk nodded and folded his arms across his chest. Maybe there was a way out of this conundrum of his, after all. [color=1E90FF]“Let’s get above decks, master Hai-shuun. I feel like we’re going to catch some strange new diseases breathing in this muck. Smells like bloody piss and shit down here.”[/color]

“Doesn’t taste too differently either, captain.”

[color=1E90FF]“Yes, never remind me of that particular episode again,”[/color] Sjan-dehk said drily. He stepped aside as much as he could to allow Hai-shuun to pass, which meant it was still an uncomfortable squeeze made worse by the pistols across his chest. The carpenter led the way with his lantern through partially submerged wood and metal fittings. Their progress was as slow as it had been the first time they came through here, but eventually they reached the steep flight of stairs that brought them up through the gundeck and back into the refreshing coolness of the main deck. Sjan-dehk immediately pulled down his scarf to draw in a breath of fresh air and to bask in the warmth of the late morning sun. 

A buzz of activity surrounded him as he made his way to the gangplank, where his hat was waiting leaning against the gunwale. All of Hai-shuun’s carpentry crew and some additional men from the [i]Sada Kurau[/i] were hard at work restoring the [i]Celestine[/i]. A few climbed up the lines to inspect yards and spars, most stayed in deck sawing and shaping wood, but all were armed with at least one blade or firearm. Sjan-dehk walked past the reasons for their caution – all seventeen of them – amidships. The shackled prisoners toiled under the watchful gaze of sailors armed with swords and muskets as they disassembled the two heavy guns on deck. Bound as they were, Sjan-dehk didn’t like the idea of giving them tools that could easily be turned into weapons by a man desperate enough for freedom. As such, he had decreed that anyone working on the [i]Celestine[/i] was to be properly armed, as if they were boarding an enemy vessel. 

Naturally, that included himself, and even more naturally, that meant he had to be the most armed member of his crew aboard the ship. A good captain had to set a good example, after all.

“So what should we do, captain?” Hai-shuun asked as they leaned over the gunwale to the right of the gangplank. Directly across from them, separated by a single wooden pier, was the [i]Sada Kurau[/i]. Sjan-dehk could hear his crew shouting to each other as they carefully lowered the three diagonal lateen yards to deck. Sahm-tehn and Azwan were the loudest voices, both seemingly competing to drown out the other. A tangle of ropes and tackles hung from the masts like vines creeping down a tree.

[color=1E90FF]“If we were to leave the mast as it is–”[/color] Sjan-dehk turned to face Hai-shuun, his body and one arm resting against and on the gunwale. [color=1E90FF]“–would it stop you from repairing the rest of the ship?”[/color]

Hai-shuun considered the question for a moment before responding. “Not likely, I’d say. I would prefer to have the mast replaced first, however. It’s a big job with a high chance of damaging something or other in the process. We’ll be doing double work if we have to repair damages from that on top of what we’re already doing now.”

Sjan-dehk stood up and picked up his hat. [color=1E90FF]“I don’t like it either, but I’d rather not sink money into a ship that could end up in someone else’s hands by sundown. Do what you can around the mast now. I’ll go find whoever it is that owns this city and have this ship’s fate settled as soon as possible.”[/color] A mischievous grin crept across his lips as he threw on the hat. [color=1E90FF]“With some luck, maybe I can make this thing sound like a shit enough heap that they wouldn’t even want it.”[/color]

Hai-shuun laughed. “Best of luck with that, sir. I will be onboard–”

An alarmed yell cut his words short. Both men snapped their heads around to look at the [i]Sada Kurau[/i] just in time to see one of the lateen yards fall a fair distance before the crew caught hold of the ropes. Even from this distance, Sjan-dehk could hear Azwan and Sahm-tehn screaming for blood in turn. [color=1E90FF]“...I’ll go see whoever owns this city [i]after[/i] I investigate what just happened,”[/color] Sjan-dehk corrected himself and gave Hai-shuun a curt nod. [color=1E90FF]“The [i]Celestine[/i]’s yours, master Hai-shuun, I’ll have Azwan check on your progress later. Any problems you find can be told to him. He should know how to handle such matters by now.”[/color]

“Understood, captain.”

Sjan-dehk marched himself down the gangplank as quickly as he could. Truthfully speaking, he wasn’t as worried as he seemed. Azwan and Sahm-tehn were experienced sailors doing – in the case of the latter especially – what they did best. It was just that this would be the first time in a very long time Sjan-dehk would be further than a stone’s throw away from his ship. For an indeterminate amount of time, no less. A quick visit to make sure everything was in proper order, that was all he needed. Perhaps to take care of whatever lingering affairs that needed his attention as well. Nothing more than that.

[hr]
In a way, the slums of Sorian brought Sjan-dehk some small sense of relief. It was comforting to know that he could be in a strange city on the far side of the world, and yet its poorest and most destitute quarter was not at all unlike those he would find in any Viserjantan city. There were dingy taphouses selling drinks that he assumed would either give a man great joy or sudden blindness within three swigs; wretched dens for people to throw away their hard-earned coin on games that may or may not be rigged; hopeful merchants hawking odds-and-ends from their dilapidated doorsteps, and of course, the occasional clamour of an ongoing tussle. 

All this, and just barely a stone’s throw away from the piers where his ship was docked. Over the coming days, he expected his crew to become very familiar with the place. Cheap drinks and fast games were to sailors as sugarcane was to ants. That meant Sjan-dehk and his officers would also have to become intimately familiar with these winding and narrow streets. Someone has to stop the crew from doing something they would otherwise regret, or prevent them from starting some sort of international incident. 

For now, however, Sjan-dehk was – and he loathed to admit it – lost. 

Had he been in a better mood, he would have laughed. Here he was, a veteran captain who could find his way across open seas and terrible storms alike using nothing more than the sun and stars, lost in a city of which he had a map. The harbour master who had sold it to him even gave some directions, although he did speak with such haste that Sjan-dehk barely understood a word. 

His intended destination peeked over the roofs of ramshackle hovels. Grey stone rising high above drab and mottled wood, as if it were teasing him. Being able to see the castle but not find his way there vexed Sjan-dehk to no end. Initially, he had thought he could simply cut across the slums to the road beyond which looked on the map like it would offer him a direct path to the castle’s entrance. Unfortunately, the disorderly tangle of muck-filled streets and alleys proved too challenging to navigate. There was no point in pushing forward when he didn’t even know where he was going, and so he decided to retrace his steps and return to the coast.

Fortunately, most of the slum’s inhabitants gave him a wide berth. Either they didn’t know what to think of this strange foreigner wandering aimlessly among their homes, or they were cowed into hesitation by the arms and armour he wore. 

Sjan-dehk had intended to leave behind at least one sword and most of his pistols – out of comfort more than anything else – but it had been quite the rush aboard the [i]Sada Kurau[/i]. Between adjudicating over the matter of the slipped yard with Azwan and Sahm-tehn, changing out of his sodden clothes for ones that didn’t stink of bilge water, and Mursi choosing the worst time possible to present a rifled breech-loading carbine for inspection, Sjan-dehk barely had any time to properly think his actions through. And so, he ended up leaving behind only the two pistols that had been on his chest, but somehow bringing Mursi’s carbine along, which he had slung across his back.

It was all dead weight, he knew. Unless a minor war broke out whilst he was ashore, he was quite likely over-armed. Still, they did give him a sense of security as he navigated these dark streets. That they kept potential troublemakers away was a nice little bonus. 

He recognised the briny whiff of ocean air long before he saw the blue waters of the harbour. At last, he was back to where he started. The exact same spot, even; just a little farther down to his right, he spied the streaming pennants flying from the masts of his [i]Sada Kurau[/i]. [color=1E90FF]“Well, fuck,”[/color] he muttered beneath his breath and let out a long sigh of resignation. For a moment, he considered returning to his ship and dropping off his excess weaponry, but decided against it. He wanted to offload his prisoners and settle the question of the Celestine as soon as possible. Before dusk, if at all possible. 

Turning away from his ship, he followed the road along the coast. The thronging crowd jostled and pushed him like waves against a skiff. Gritting his teeth, Sjan-dehk pulled the brim of his hat lower over his eyes and did his best to gently and politely plough through the mass of people. It didn’t take long to find himself in another slum, but this one at least had a better-defined road for him to follow. A horse-drawn cart laden with prisoners rattled past him, throwing up mud in its wake. Sjan-dehk made sure to give it a wide berth; it wouldn’t do him any favours to show up looking like a mess at the castle. 

He could feel the curious and wary gazes of the crowd burning through his clothes. Heads turned as he passed, even if for but the briefest of moments. Though Sjan-dehk understood their curiosity, he couldn’t help but feel discomfort, and so he doubled his pace. He kept a hand hovering surreptitiously near the hilt of his sword, and kept it there until he rounded a corner and the disorderly mess of run-down shacks and hovels began to thin. Up ahead, clean streets and sturdy buildings of stone awaited. A smile flickered across his lips. At long last, he was making real progress. 

It didn’t last long. Before he knew it, he had reached the outskirts of yet another harbour. A guttural groan of frustration rumbled up his throat and he furrowed his brows in frustration. Then again, most of it was his fault to begin with; so focused had he been on following the street that he hadn’t paid much attention to the castle, which now rose high over tiled and stone roofs to his left. Still looking down upon him with that very same mocking gaze. Sjan-dehk pulled out the map and examined it again. He looked up at the grand estate beside him, then back to the map. For all the good it did; speaking the language was one thing, but reading it was another entirely. 

The crowd from before was long gone, reduced to a trickle of well-dressed people walking with purpose to wherever it was they needed to go. Not at all the sort who looked like they would deign to stop and help a lost traveller, but Sjan-dehk didn’t have much of a choice. [color=1E90FF]“[i]Excuse me. What is this place?[/i]”[/color] He asked the first person who passed, a man in a fine suit. He barely glanced in his direction. Sjan-dehk frowned but asked the same question to several more passers-by, each time receiving the same response. He bit on his cheek and did his best to swallow his simmering frustration. Wealth and power never did beget courtesy, as many a wise sage had once written.

Eventually, someone did give him an answer. A man dressed in drab, shabby clothes with a heavy sack slung behind a shoulder stopped. “This place?” He repeated and cocked his head towards the estate. “Tell you truthfully, friend, I’m not sure either. Moved here not too long ago myself, you see. People I work with at the docks tell me it’s some duke’s place? Vikena’s the name, or something like that.” He paused and looked Sjan-dehk up and down, letting out a low whistle as he did so. “You might want to keep those weapons elsewhere before you head inside, friend. In any case, I hope that helps.”

The man continued on his way before Sjan-dehk even parsed his final sentence. By the time he finished translating the words in his head, it was too late. [color=1E90FF]“[i]Who?[/i]”[/color] He called out, but the man was already too far away to hear him. Sjan-dehk could only sigh, curse his poor luck, and study the map once more. Well, if a duke did live here, then he couldn’t be too far from where he needed to go. Judging by how it loomed over him, it had to be just one street away. Sjan-dehk just had to figure out how to get to said street.