Chapter 23

If possible, the rocky crags surrounding the harbor of Safehaven were even taller and starker looking then those of Harv'el. The harbor itself was noticeably smaller and the town of Safehaven almost invisible unless you knew exactly where to look. The island was formed from an extinct volcano, the harbor formed from its cone.

Dent was up early that morning. He hadn't slept well in the narrow hard bunk and was surprised at just how much he missed the soft warm bodies he had grown accustomed to feeling beside him. Because of that he felt no great desire to remain abed and was up before the morning watch and on the pilot bridge even before the sea and anchor detail had been set.

The Death Grip was presently threading its way through a narrow and -- or so Vel said -- a particularly nasty entrance channel to the harbor.

"It's actually a beautiful little harbor," he had said the night before. "Deep and well protected, but the channel at the entrance is one cold-hearted bitch! It's not reef so much as just slightly submerged mountaintops sharp enough to rip the bottom out of any vessel. Only the smallest fishing boats can go in and out with impunity. Anyone else who doesn't know the way well is just asking to be sunk. It's one of the reasons very few visit Safehaven. It's a bit hair-raising even for someone who's done it a number of times like I have and even I'd never do it at night."

As they approached the town, they could see the relatively few docks and the general shabbiness of the village located at their feet.

"There doesn't seem to be much here," Dent said, his unvoiced question being what were they doing there at all.

"Not much," Vel agreed. "There's not much here of any value. They do make beautiful obsidian jewelry you can't find anywhere else but its true value is the transshipment of cargo the owners don't want or can't ship through Harv'el. The taxes and duties are supposed to be the same here as in Harv'el but in actuality Jeevel rarely pays much attention to Safehaven. There is supposed to be a governor and support staff, mostly to take care of the taxes, but there hasn't been one assigned here for a long time. We will be picking up a load of jewelry but mostly we're here to pick up cargo bound for Salas from elsewhere."

"You would think Jeevel would do something to stop this; it's almost like smuggling."

"Not almost, it is," chuckled Vel. "But the amount is generally so small it's not worth their time and effort to stop it. If they really wanted to stop it, they would lower or eliminate the taxes on transshipments, but for some reason that doesn't seem to sink into their tiny little pointed heads. Jeevel used to be one of the major trading ports in this area but their greed has chased most of that away. Now they rely on the slave trade and because of the problems with Malshall that is dwindling."

"Can't say I'm sorry to hear that," Dent muttered.

"I know how you feel about slavery," Vel nodded. "I can't say as how I feel the same way. It seems to be the natural order of things to me. Now that doesn't mean I approve of the way they treat them all the time up here, but even that is mostly a local aberration. It's the natural order of the world: There are some who are going to lead and others who will follow. Does it really matter if you call the followers slaves, serfs or servants? How else would anything get done? Have the peasants lead themselves? Now that would be a right mess, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know," admitted Dent. "It just doesn't seem right for some reason."

"I've been to Salas," Vel continued. "You have serfs there, right? From what I understand they're tied to the land, unable to move around or leave. Is that correct?" Dent nodded. "What are they except slaves without tattoos?"

"I never thought of it that way," Dent mused. "It seems different somehow, but thinking about it now I couldn't tell you how it is different."

"Well, think about it some. I'm not trying to convert you to my way of thinking; I'll leave that to the logic of the situation. Take your two women, for instance. Do you think they would be better off in Salas as wives or are they happier in Harv'el with you technically as slaves? I say technically since you don't treat them like many of the other slaves are treated."

"You have a point, I guess. Nesho did tell me there was no difference between the salidin around her neck and a marriage band around her wrist. Still I wonder at times."

"Well, let's leave it be for now boy. I'm needed for the docking now. We should be moored here shortly. Why don't you take a walk around Safehaven for awhile? It's not big, you can't get lost and I think you might enjoy it."

"I'll do that," Dent replied.

Vel had been right; Dent enjoyed poking around in the small village. It wasn't very large and it didn't take him long to see pretty much everything there was to be seen, but it was a pleasant stroll if nothing else.

The people of Safehaven were friendly enough, not exuberantly so, but polite when spoken to and helpful when he asked for directions to the nearest inn or restaurant. There was only one in the village and he chose to eat at their outside tables by the front door. There weren't throngs of people in the street but after he saw the same ones passing him for the third or fourth time he got the feeling he was the object of some curiosity. Understandable, he thought. If there were as few ships pulling in as Vel hinted any visitor would be the object of a great deal of interest. For the most part they were discreet and Dent let it go at that. He could have moved inside but grinned to himself thinking if the locals wanted to view the unusual exhibit of Warrior on Display it was no harm to him. Besides, the sun was pleasant and the food excellent; he was in no mood to be bothered by such trifles.

His introspection was interrupted only once. He was finishing when two young boys about the same age as Festou, who happened to be restricted to the ship for some bit of mischief he and Barth had been into before sailing, suddenly appeared next to his table. While one had the tattoo of a slave, the other didn't, and they just stood there staring at him wide-eyed and silent as the grave. Dent noticed that far fewer people here wore the slave mark and he wondered if it meant there were fewer slaves here or if they just didn't bother with the marks here in this backwater port. He'd have to remember to ask Vel sometime.

But back to his young audience, Dent considered just waiting them out; boys that age could hardly stay still for very long let alone quiet but decided against it.

"What can I do for you, young gentlemen?" he asked with a smile. If anything their eyes got even bigger until he was sure they would pop out of their heads. He was right, though, it wasn't more than a few seconds until curiosity overruled their fear.

"Are you really a Warrior, sir?" the one with the tattoo blurted.

Dent hadn't worn even his light armor this day, just the mail under his blouse and of course his dirk and sword. Dent wondered how they knew but then remembered he had worn his Guild badge and it was outside his shirt right then.

"Yes, I am," he answered still smiling.

"Gods, we ain't never seen a real Warrior afore you," his partner said breathlessly.

"Well now you have," Dent said spreading his hands in a "look me over" gesture. Either his smile or his amenable attitude must has put to rest any remaining trepidation they had because before he knew it he was being inundated by questions faster than he could understand let alone answer.

"Have you kilt many people?"

"Is that your sword?"

"Can we touch it?"

"Are you under contract?"

"What's it like out there?"

"Here now, what's this all about?" came a stern voice from over Dent's shoulder. Turning he saw his server standing with her hands on hips glaring at the two boys. "What do you think you're about bothering this gentleman at his supper? You two scamps just clear out here now and leave the man to his own business!"

"Ah Miz Sella this here's a real Warrior and we was jest talking to him. We weren't bothering him any was we, sir?" The one talking looked at Dent imploringly.

"Not bothering him? You were worrying him to death is what you were doing. I know your Mam taught you better that that, Filep Fisher, and you too Clem..."

"Please, mistress," Dent interrupted. "They weren't bothering me, I promise. I was just finishing and they were curious, that's all. No harm done, I know I'd do the same myself at their age."

"Well if you say so, sir," she harrumphed. "But these two hooligans will talk your arm off if you give them half a chance."

"Well that's why I have two," he grinned. "Just in case I lose one to a couple of fast talkers."

"Well now that may be true, sir," she said answering his smile with one of her own. "And these two do have their uses now and then I will admit, if for nothing else than they collect dust and dirt better than anything else I've ever seen."

"Well maybe I can put them to good use then," Dent replied. "I've heard tell you have some rather spectacular jewelry here in Safehaven and I'd like to look for some gifts for a couple of ladies. Do you know where I might find some?"

"Oh, if it's jewelry you're looking for then you need to see Daniel the Jeweler. He doesn't have a real store like in the big cities but he's the factor for all the townfolk who make the pretties. These two pirates can certainly show you how to find him. Now you two show the gentleman where to find Master Daniel and no mooning about. you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.

Mistress Sella was correct that the jeweler didn't have a regular store. The two boys led him to an older looking warehouse down by the docks where an elderly gentleman was sorting through an impressive pile of obsidian jewelry.

She was wrong about them talking his arm off, though. They were quiet as mice as he told them of the taking of the Vengeance. Their faces looked up at him in awe bordering on worship as he told the tale but he was glad it was a short walk since he was sure they wanted to hear more and of course he had nothing else to tell.

The jeweler was helpful although apologetic. He lamented that his selection was quite limited since most of the finer pieces had been readied for shipment on the Grip. Still Dent was able to find a very pretty set of earrings for Nesho and a bracelet for Sosho. He had no idea if he paid too much or was getting a bargain. The price seemed reasonable to him and he was pleased to be able to get something for his women as a surprise.

Far too soon it was time to board the ship again. He paid his two guides a silver each which he knew was far too much but it was worth it to see their eyes bug out and he could almost see the steam coming out of their ears with the thoughts of how to spend their new-found wealth.

The rocky crags of Safehaven were well astern of them as the sun reached the horizon and the first evening watch was settling in for their four-hour vigil. Dent and Vel stood at the rear of the pilot bridge looking back at the old volcano's jutting peaks.

"A nice place," Dent commented.

"I thought you might like it," Vel replied. "It is a nice little port. A bit dull for me, though. Not much excitement, but a nice place to rest."

"I wonder if Nesho and Sosho would like it," Dent mused.

"You tired of Harv'el already? Looking for someplace else?"

"Maybe," Dent admitted. "Harv'el is fine as far as that goes but there's just something about it that makes me uneasy. I don't know what it is, just something."

"There he is again," Sosho whispered to Nesho. They were sitting at a table eating their noon meal when a large warrior in livery came in a sat down a few tables away. Kelei waited on him but all he wanted was a large mug of ale. He didn't stare at them directly but it seemed he paid far more attention to them then was normal.

"Maybe Dent has been talking up the Cask," Nesho said. "Maybe he's just here to check it out for himself."

"Maybe, but this is the third day he's been here. I get the feeling he's looking at me, you also. What could he want? It makes me nervous."

"Hmm, it is a bit particular. I'll ask Marie about him when I see her next. But I shouldn't worry about it overly much. Captain Vel said slaves were well protected here, at least from anyone other than their masters and I haven't seen anything to dispute that."

"I suppose so, but I wish Dent were back," Sosho had a little whine creep into her voice.

"Oh come now, he's only been gone a few days," Nesho smiled at her daughter. "He'll be back soon enough. Besides, if you start missing him you can just shut your eyes and feel where he is."

"I know, Momma, but it isn't the same. Yes I can feel him, but I want to really feel him, you know what I mean."

"Yes I do and I feel the same way. As for our watcher, well I'll ask Marie and maybe she'll know."

"This is all just a waste of time," Escaro grumbled as he paced back and forth in Garishnie's office. "I've been watching them for days now and nothing has changed. Their collars haven't changed color like you said they would."

"Don't worry, I tell you," Garishnie soothed. "It's all been taken care of. My agent is probably just waiting for the most opportune time. When he's dead, their collars will change, believe me. Dealing with slaves as much as I do I made it a point to familiarize myself with these new devices. I don't like them myself but still it's what some of my customers want and if they're willing to pay, then that's what they get. I've seen it happen: When the master dies the collar will change to a light gray and they will be available to transfer ownership. While he's alive there's, nothing I can do."

"And His Excellency is comfortable with the waiting?" Escaro asked.

"His Excellency doesn't understand," Garishnie replied testily. "His Excellency thinks this is superstition and doesn't like waiting for anything. In fact he has become rather insistent. He doesn't seem to understand, or care about, the trouble this could cause if it's not done correctly."

"I don't understand either," Escaro huffed. "Just make up some reason to confiscate them and let's go in and take them. If the punk does make it back, I'll deal with him then."

"I'm sure you could, but what about the Guild?"

"Screw them," Escaro laughed waving his hand. "They can't do anything if it's just between the two of us."

"Maybe," Garishnie said still looking worried. "Maybe."

It was a clear, dark night with just a hint of clouds on the horizon. Dent and Vel stood at the railing on the main deck watching the luminescence sparkle in the wake as the Grip's bow pushed through the waves.

"So we'll be in Salas tomorrow?" Dent asked.

"Tomorrow morning. How will it feel to be home again?"

"Strangely, I don't feel much. It's funny but even though I spent most of my life there I don't fell any great need to go back."

"Will you visit the Academy?" Vel asked.

"I don't think so," Dent answered slowly. "There are some people I wouldn't mind seeing and it's not like I left with any great animosity between us, but it could be a bit awkward. I left no doubt I wasn't interested in the position of instructor and that didn't sit well with some of them."

"Do you expect any trouble?"

"No. They may not have liked my answer but it's not their way to force the issue. I'm sure they expect me to return some day on my own."

"Will you?"

"No," said Dent shaking his head. "It's not what I ever really wanted and now I have much more out here. Did I tell you Sosho is expecting also?"

"Why you dog!" Vel laughed and slapped him on the back. This little show of camaraderie knocked him into the rail and almost over the side. "You trying to increase the population all by yourself?"

"Well not exactly by myself," he said rolling his shoulder to take out the sting. Dent knew the Captain sometimes didn't know his own strength which could at times be a bit wearing on those around him. He could take some comfort in the fact that without the mail shirt under his blouse it would have hurt even more. "But now that I have two on the way it's even more imperative we succeed in this venture."