Chapter 2: Port (1/2)

It was the early hours of the morning when we pulled into harbor at Pristav – one of the main ports of my home nation of Antarus. That was for the best, it gave everyone plenty of daylight to square things away before the crew flooded the nearby taverns. Pristav was one of several trade hubs on the circumference of the island nation and it took slow going to make sure we didn’t collide with other ships as we entered it. As soon as we’d moored, the harbormaster climbed the gangplank to speak with the captain and collect the docking fee. I knew Coe had a stash of money hidden aboard the ship, but he never revealed it and I never looked. Coe would pick two of his loyal seamen as bodyguards and go to the bank, get the harbormaster’s fee and then bring the men a small advance on their pay. This was my third expedition with Coe, and I understood his methods.

I didn’t expect him to pick me as one of his two bodyguards.

He called for me to accompany him in a voice that brooked no nonsense. I followed as if I’d expected it. Internally, I was curious. I knew Coe didn’t take Fink because he wanted his second to remain on board when he wasn’t. But weren’t there a handful of guys among his normal crew with higher fighting skills or strength than I? I was impressive for my age, with the way I kept turning around and heading straight back to sea. I still couldn’t compare with most of the men with professions.

I kept my thoughts to myself as I joined Coe and Marsh on the trip to the bank. Interesting how I started thinking of him as ‘Coe’ and not ‘Captain’ as soon as we returned to harbor. That was the life of an itinerant seaman, I guess. I respected the master of the ship I was hired on for, but when it came time to discuss my wages for rehire – I wasn’t going to be looking up at a captain from a position of service.

“Domenic,” Coe said. “What brought you to the Essential?”

“Reputation of fair treatment, hard work and good XP,” I replied.

“Those your criteria for every job you take?”

I shrugged. “No, sir. I’ll put up with some bad treatment for good XP, or even take an easy job if the pay’s worth it.”

“By your stats, you haven’t taken too many easy jobs.”

In truth, I’d only done that once, when I was trying to pay off my mum’s debts quickly before the interest got too bad. “Harder work means improved stats, and I don’t want to lose any of my stats by killing time in the off season.”

That was the thing about inflating your stats. Sailors could make great improvements when they were working. If they got caught in a place with no one hiring or just lazed about, they risked losing their improvements. They didn’t just disappear, you had to be countering them in some way. For instance, anyone who drank enough to get the alcoholic debuff temporarily lost stats until he went clean. But if an alcoholic maintained his state long enough, his temporary losses would start to become permanent.

I’d invested too heavily in constitution to ever risk that. Actually, the gains I’d made in my stats had all been earned through experience, rather than ‘invested in’ by free attribute points gained from leveling. It was easier to earn the first few points of an attribute than the later ones. A toddler earned a point in agility when it learned to walk. I’d spent months climbing ratlines before I’d gotten my 20th point in agility, and I didn’t expect another one any time soon.

“I’ll tell it to you straight, Domenic. You have the makings of a first mate or quartermaster. The fact you’re not a petty officer at least is a shame. I’d like to hire you on as one. Only thing is I don’t know if you’ll be around when I next sail.”

I was surprised at the job offer. I was less surprised by his assessment but hadn’t exactly expected him to tell me himself. “I know you don’t keep your men in port while you’re at home.”

“No, but I know the other jobs they take and the captains they sail with. I know when to expect them back when I start forming my crew. I tried keepin’ tabs on you after you left me the last two times, but you left on one vessel and picked another at the second harbor. If you told me you’ve already made an expedition to the frozen wastes I wouldn’t be surprised!”

The Atlas Ocean was as close to the frozen wastes as I’d been, but he was right. I traveled a lot and I traveled loose.

“Sir,” I said, not wanting to kill my chance of sailing on the Essential again but knowing where my heart was. “I am deeply honored by your offer … but I need to be at sea. I need to be moving about, and I need things to be shaken up every now and then.”

I was sure as soon as I finished speaking that I’d put my foot in it. I was done. ‘Shake things up?’ He’d say. ‘Being towed about by whales that’ll turn and kill you isn’t enough?’

But the captain nodded. “That perk was the thing that caught my eye the very first time you sailed with me all those years ago.” He was speaking of my second perk Heart at Sea. I’d gained it when I was barely a teenager. “I’d love to have you, Domenic. But I’m not going to stunt the thing that’s made you such a great sailor.”

I let the silence linger for a few moments before I just had to ask: “So … does this mean you’ll still take me on as a crewman?”

Coe sighed. “Domenic, you’re getting to where I can’t afford to hire you at a basic seaman position. I’ll not turn you down flat, but I’m sure you can find better opportunities.”

“Remember what I was saying about taking a pay cut for hard work and XP?”

That made him laugh. “Then we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

Coe withdrew a sum from the bank and Marsh carried the chest. The captain and I flanked him. With just my rigging knife and a smaller throwing blade hidden on me, I tried to look more imposing than I was. We drew looks of course but ran into no trouble. Coe paid the harbormaster, then had Marsh take the chest to his cabin. There he had the men come in one at a time to receive their advance. When he handed me my silvers, he shook my hand and nodded. I returned the gesture. He’d already said his piece. If I didn’t want to take more responsibility with him, then this would probably be my last voyage with the man. That was a shame.

After drawing lots for the watch, a gaggle of sailors went on to town and the rest of us set to doing our errands – whether it be visiting bathhouses, brothels, or tailors (by agreement, the taverns would waitdea until tonight). My errands started the same way whenever I landed on Antarus: visiting dear mum.

The estate was several miles outside of town, which gave me time to exercise my stamina. I tossed my seabag over my shoulder – its main contents being a change of clothes – and set to running. Go down to 40% stamina and recover. Repeat. You couldn’t move like this on a ship. With my level 13 sea legs, I didn’t suffer anymore from feeling the sea when I stepped onto land, but the earth felt hard and uncomfortable under my feet. My stamina shone through, though, and I made the trip to the estate in less than an hour.

I made my way around through the servants’ entrance. It was the work of a minute to find my mum weeding the greenhouse garden. I slipped in with the intention of watching her for a minute, but her eyes were sharp and she saw as soon as I’d turned the latch.

Shock, relief, was that exasperation too? It had been over a year. Ok, nearly two.

“Dommy …” she said. Then whatever else her feelings were, she wanted a hug. I gave her one, trying to catch up on the hugs a son is supposed to give and bank a few more for the impending separation at the same time. When she pushed me to arm’s length to get a better look at me, there weren’t any of the tears that had threatened to fall at first sight. “You’ve grown! Oh, and look at your stats!”

“I haven’t put on an inch since I was sixteen, mum, but I have been working hard.”

“Oh, hush. If you haven’t grown then I’ve shrunk and you never say that to your mother!”

She was hardly an old lady. In fact she was only 17 years older than I. She preferred the pretension of old age, however. “Hmm, shall I get you a pair of spectacles?”

She turned dour. “Domenic, I don’t need your money! I’ve still got some from the last time!”

“What am I supposed to do with it? Put it in the bank?” I joked. “You don’t use it there.” She’d been telling me she didn’t need me to provide for her my whole life. I’d stopped believing her when I was a boy. My first years at sea had seen the entirety of my pay go to covering her debts. She was in a decent position now – or so I believed – but she would never tell me if she ever got in trouble. I was never here enough to see for myself. Maybe that made me a terrible son. I provided though, right?

“Well, Dom … I can’t wait to catch up with you later! You’ll still be around this evening, right?”

That was odd. I was always the one who told my mum when I had to go again. She never sent me off, and here we had just said hello. I glanced around at the herbs. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, no. Just tending the plants here is all!”

“Mhm. These are new plants, right?” I couldn’t have told you what plants were here the last time I’d visited, but there was fresh potting soil lying about and most the plants were the same.

“Oh, yes. Mr. Marston is trying a new alchemy potion.”

“What for?” I quizzed.

“His … gout.”

“Gout?”

She sighed. “It gives him some terrible debuffs and hurts him terribly.”

“I see. And I shouldn’t be seen around here because he’s in a bad mood?”

Tears welled fresh in her eyes. “I never could beat around the bush with you. You’ve gotten more observant than ever, haven’t you? Has seeing all those foreign lands raised your analyze skill?”

I cupped her face in my hands. “Are you safe here?”

“From Mr. Marston? Of course! They’ll never like me but they treat me fine in private.”

My mother’s life was a rather sad one, as complicated as only normal people can make things. She ran off from home as a dreamy young girl with a beau who turned out to be less than honorable and found herself on the port streets being pimped out. One of her clients was a young member of the Marston family. He’d taken a genuine interest in her, caused a scandal, and died – leaving my mother at the mercy of his family. The Marston family was powerful here. They got a judge and lawyer together for a sentencing. Among the punishments was a monetary fine and ‘repatriation of the image of the Marston’s House.’

That last bit amounted to indentured servitude. I’d looked into getting her out of it, but she had forbidden me from doing so. Turns out the security of continued service was something she wanted. I couldn’t imagine being locked into something like that. In that – and most other regards, honestly – we weren’t alike. I had no idea if I was more like my father. My father was either the dead Marston or a deadbeat sailor. Mum couldn’t or wouldn’t say definitively (the Marston’s made her swear an affidavit that I wasn’t the bastard of their son) and I had little inclination to find the man.

My mother’s past was probably why I never felt right visiting the brothels with other sailors. Besides the disease risk, I couldn’t help but look at the girls and wonder if they had been scammed off a farm somewhere too. For every “empowered” woman making her own rules and leading men along on a string, there were a dozen others being victimized.

My mum had been a victim all her life.

“And are you at risk from anyone else?”

“No, silly boy! Anyway, what would you …”

“Mum,” I said. “What are you hiding from me?”

She paled. “What do … I’m not hiding anything!”

“Mum, I know you well. You’re letting me see your skills and attributes but none of your other stats. I’m your son. I’ve seen the rest, so why hide?”

Now she did cry as she slapped my chest. “You just won’t let me tell you in my own time, will you?”

“I’m a terrible son, I know.”

“Don’t say that!”

“What are you hiding?”

She wiped at her tears but was going through an emotional wringer. “I’m seeing someone.”

I let that sink in, then waited for her to explain. She didn’t. My thoughts went to dark places of her once again becoming the victim of other’s desires. “Who is he?” I demanded.

“Now Domenic, don’t you demand answers from me! You don’t get to just walk in and out of my life whenever it pleases you and make your judgements …”

“Any man who abuses you had better pray for the seas’ intervention of me. I may not be the best son but I do care about you.”

“He’s not abusing me!” she spat. “I love him!” I was surprised, but she read far too much into my expression. “Yes, it so happens that I am lovable, or at least close enough for someone to try! I know I ruined myself early on in life and it’s selfish, but he actually makes me feel … he makes me feel …”

I embraced her and laughed, cutting her off. “You’re the only one who doesn’t think you’re a saint!”

“I’m no saint …”

“I’m happy for you, mum! I’ve always hoped you’d be happy! And if this guy can do it for you, that’s great! What’s his name?”

She shot me a warning look. “I don’t want you showing up at his door and laying down the law on how he ought to be treating me …”

“Don’t I at least get to hear his profession?”

“He’s a cooper, widowed for a few years. Now I don’t need you to check in on him and see how much he makes, either!”

I smiled. “Of course not, mum!” If I knew his profession, I’d find him if I ever had to. However, while I wouldn’t trust my mother’s judgement on a great many things, I wasn’t going to try an hinder her attempts at finding happiness. “But … that still doesn’t explain why you’re hiding your stats.”

She blushed. “I … think I may be pregnant.”

While I processed that little tidbit, I couldn’t help a sly grin. “You know ‘pregnancy’ doesn’t show up on your stats, right?”

Her jaw dropped, and I laughed out loud. “What do you mean?” she hissed. “Can’t people tell?”

“Mum,” I explained. “You’re adorable. I’m sure there’s a thousand and one ways someone can tell you’re pregnant, but to get anything off a stat sheet they’d have to analyze the baby. There’s not one person in town with an analyze level like that who’ll care.”

She blushed harder, flustered at giving herself away. I marveled at how ignorant people could be of the world. Even if people didn’t learn as they were growing, weren’t things intuitive by the time someone reached the age of my mother? Guess not.

“You’re not jealous?” she asked.

“Jealous? I’m not a toddler who’s going to whine about you splitting your attention. I’m happy if you’re happy!”

My mum grabbed my head and brought it down to kiss my forehead. “Bless you, my boy! What did I ever do to get you?”