He felt a sardonic smile cross his face. Commander Ahea’a An-Sher’vaat had all three, but not to the Emperor. In exchange for a guard’s loyalty, an Emperor was expected to be merciful, wise, and to act honorably. En’shea was none of those things, never had been. Their older cousin, Prii’sha, would have been a fine empress, and Shi’chen would have served her without compunction. The thought that he had only days ago been willing to serve in the guards under En’shea’s rule now turned his stomach. He squeezed the pin lightly between his fingers, wondering if his noble Commander was still alive. He hoped she was, but then, he guiltily remembered what had been done to A’bbni, and he changed his mind, hoping she was now at peace. He sent up a prayer to the gods to bless Ahea’a for her sacrifice, pressing the pin lightly to his forehead respectfully before tucking it into his pocket next to his signet ring.
He sat down on a pile of hay to examine the paper Rell had given him with the location he was to go to once he arrived in Csereth.Vayalla Oren. He wished he knew what that translated into. His Cserethian was terrible. A’bbni had the head and ear for languages, while Shi’chen did not, no matter how hard he tried. He wondered if that was going to make things more difficult for him on the ship. He had never been on a boat, minus the few he had toured being built during his guard training, and those were on land, not yet on the water. The thought of a couple planks of wood being the only thing between him and the black, crushing depths of endless ocean made him dizzy, and he lay down in the pile of hay, closing his eyes, hoping for sleep that never came.
Chapter six
A'bbni
“Re’lenAn-Bersha,”A’bbnirepeatedthe name Nen told him several times. “Son of Lord Mech’jer An-Bersha, the duke of Har’lesh, traveling to Csereth to study at the university.”
Nen nodded as they dismounted from their horses a short distance from one of the docks, A’bbni having to bite his lower lip to stifle a whimper of pain as he slid down from his horse. The silk of his tunic rubbed on the wounds that he prayed had not split open during their ride through the city. Every step hurt, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to straighten and lift his chin, as a well-bred nobleman’s son would be expected to do. He could collapse in pain later on the ship, not on Kandrea’a’s streets.
The cries of seabirds rattled the air as they dove toward the water and, occasionally, a basket to snatch bits to eat. The port was bustling with movement, even this early in the morning. A’bbni could see goblins and elves, and many individuals who had blood of both in them, loading and unloading crates, tossing ropes and rigging around ships, yelling in a number of languages, most of which he recognized, a few of which he did not. That thought made his stomach flip-flop. Shi’chen only spoke the three dialects of Hanen, as A’bbni’s and their tutors’ attempts to teach him other languages over the years had failed miserably. Would he be able to function on a ship if they did not speak a language he understood?
“Once the ship has departed, find Lord Kella. He is our contact on board and will be expecting you. He will help you find your brother when you arrive in Csereth and will direct you further.” He forced himself to pay attention to Nen’s words as they approached the docks. Nen had put on a tunic and cloak more in line with what the servant of a prominent nobleman would wear to complete the ruse that A’bbni was the son of nobility traveling to study. A’bbni still had so many questions. He was a planner; he didn’t like surprises when it came to what was happening. But he knew he would not get answers, and that thought made his stomach roil.
They approached the dock where the ship A’bbni was to sail on was moored. It was a long, elegant elven ship, designed for comfort. Nen had told him it was primarily a passenger vessel, that also often carried luxury goods that its wealthy patrons brought with to sell or trade. The name on the side readHiyallen Wordan.The Eastern Star in Cserethian, the primary language that most elves and goblins shared in common. He turned to Nen. “When will my brother’s ship depart?”
“This afternoon, on the tide,” Nen replied. “He will be on a cargo ship,Dianol Elledun.With fair winds and steady seas, you should only arrive in Csereth a few days before him.”
“Thank you,” A’bbni said, bowing his head gratefully. “Will you please let him know that my ship has departed safely?”
“Of course, Your Reverence.” He reached out and placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “May the gods grant you wisdom and safety.”
A’bbni placed his hand over Nen’s, repeating the traditional travel blessing back to him before turning toward the ship. In another lifetime, with Shi’chen by his side, this would seem like a fun adventure, traveling to a new city on the sea. But now, standing alone on the pier without his brother’s familiar warmth next to him, he felt lost. The screeching cry of seabirds and the plunk of waves lapping against the wooden hull, the voices around him, and the briny salt smell of the water felt like it might consume him entirely.
He glanced back over his shoulder at Nen, who stood at the edge of the dock, the faithful servant waiting on his master, before he turned and began to climb up the elegantly crafted gangplank. The water churned below him, which was disconcerting when he had hardly ever been around such a large body of water. He checked his pocket one last time for his signet ring and the missive for Lord Kella before he took a deep breath and stepped onto the deck of the ship.
“Good morning, my lord,” came a voice in Hanen-sha, and it took A’bbni a moment to realize the unfamiliar address was meant for him. He turned to see a young elf with sandy blond hair and a sprinkling of cinnamon freckles across his nose and cheeks, probably a few years older than him, dressed in a handsome porter’s uniform. The young man bowed his head respectfully and gave him a bright smile.
“Good morning,” A’bbni greeted back in Hanen-sha. Of course, it made sense that a passenger vessel that carried merchants and other nobles would speak the more formal dialect, but not Hanen-vir, the most formal of dialects used primarily by members of the royal family.
“May I help you find your cabin?” the porter asked.
“Yes, thank you,” A’bbni said. The porter waited for a moment, and A’bbni realized he was waiting for his name. It took him a moment to recall it, and he covered it by adjusting his clothing, as if walking from the dock might have mussed them. “Re’len An-Bersha, of Har’lesh.”
“Welcome, Vr An-Bersha,” the porter said, easily pronouncing the goblin name with its honorific prefix. “Please follow me.”
A’bbni followed after him, trying to not stare too openly at the ship around them. The sails were beautifully white and trimmed with an embroidered gold swirling star. The wood was all burnished so bright it shone in the sunlight. “Have you traveled with us before?” the porter asked as they descended a staircase with a gleaming, gold banister, into a long hallway lit by torches carefully covered with decorative glass. The wood under their feet had been covered with a soft, blue carpet.
“No,” A’bbni said. He wanted to examine everything. Perhaps there would be time for it on the journey.
The porter smiled and began pointing out the various decorations on the walls. They passed several doors, all of which were closed, before they descended another flight of stairs into an almost identical hallway, except this carpet was a jewel-tone purple. A’bbni heard something about meals being served in the dining hall and where that was located, unless he wanted them in his room, in which case he only had to ring the bell for assistance, any time of the day or night. He felt a stab of guilt in his stomach. It seemed like he would be well cared for; he doubted Shi’chen’s ship would be anything like this.
The porter stopped before a door with a copper plate withGelleniuminscribed on it, a Cserethian word. A’bbni smiled a bit. “The highest star in the constellationImedras, the lovers.”
“You know your stars, my lord,” the porter replied, seeming pleasantly surprised. He opened the door for A’bbni, who stepped inside. The main room was a sitting room, designed more in elven style with higher tables and furniture than the ones closer to the floor that goblins favored. There was a large window across from them, where he could see the nearby ships and docks, and where much of the light came from. The porter gestured to the left. “Your sleeping accommodations are in there, my lord, as is the freshening room.” He gestured right. “Over there is your office.”
He could get used to this. “Thank you,” he said to the young man before turning to him again, feeling the envelope in his pocket. “I am supposed to meet with Lord Kella. I believe he is expecting me.”
“Of course, my lord. He is meeting with the captain, as we are about to set sail, but after we have left port, I shall inform him of your presence. Do you require anything else at the moment before the ship departs?”
Nothing that this eager young man could give him. “No, thank you,” A’bbni said politely.
“Then I shall bid you good morning,” the porter said, giving him another respectful bow before he exited the room, shutting the door behind him.
A’bbni heard him walk down the long hallway and up the stairs. He turned back to the luxurious room. If Shi’chen had been with him, it would have been perfect. He moved over to look out the window, which was some of the purest goblin-made clear glass he had ever seen. The ropes were being untied from the dock, and a sudden rumbling made him jump. He realized the anchor was likely being raised. There was so much to learn on this ship while he was here, and he hoped he could take advantage of it.
The ship began to move, and A’bbni put his hand up on the window frame to catch himself at the slight vibration under him. He sucked in a deep breath, watching the world glide past outside of his window. It was really happening; he was leaving Kandrea’a, leaving his brother behind. The world blurred, and A’bbni realized hot tears had filled his eyes. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window as the tears fell silently onto the carpet beneath his feet.
