Lacquer came to view exactly two days after our first land sighting. It was a settlement larger in many ways than the one the ship departed from. There were more ships in the harbor, a larger and thicker sprawl of buildings, and a more intimidating wall circling around it.
It wasn't just a "town." It was a city. One that could only be held by a Duke, or even directly by the King.
With our hands on the railings and the ship slowly approaching the port, our mouths watered at the thought of dry land. The city was impressive, yes, but even if it were a run-down village, we would still have been just as eager to escape the wooden prison.
The passengers rushed out as soon as the gangplanks were let down. The first step onto the stone platform of the harbor was alien. Even as the [Balance Compensation] trait had made me walk steady aboard the ship, real steady ground still felt very different. Down the gangplanks, the stream of passengers from the ship joined a large body of people already crowding the port.
If nobody told me this was a foreign kingdom, I wouldn't have known. The Minotians dressed and talked the same as we did. Only when you listened closely could you detect the slight difference in their accent.
But why am I even surprised? The Minotian Kingdoms, Castor, and the Principality of Jander to the north once formed a single empire. We basically share the same blood and culture.
"What do you wish to do in the town, Master Devon?" Clifford said.
He had been ever-present for most of the journey, that I almost forgot he followed me closely out of the ship.
I looked around at the activity in the harbor. There were the usual merchants selling the usual goods. Then there were the more unusual ones, selling curious artifacts, exotic beasts, and even... people, apparently.
I stared a little longer at the slaver and his stall. He was a fat merchant who loudly announced his merchandise for all those who had ears to hear. The products in question were the miserable-looking group of men and women, bound in chains in front of the large cages.
Slavery was outlawed in Castor. That wasn't the case here, apparently.
"I don't know, Master Clifford. Maybe I'll eat something fresh to start. Then maybe find some quick work to have the silver to purchase additional supplies," I replied, my attention still pasted to the slaves.
"If you don't mind, I am capable of shouldering your expenses for you, Master Devon. Buy anything you want, and I will pay for it," Clifford offered.
I knew it was coming. And what a good-sounding offer. But as Sir Roland had once told me, there's nothing free in life. And sometimes, what's "free" turns out to be the most expensive of all.
"And why would you do that, Master Clifford?" I stared at him.
He shrugged. "A friendly gesture."
"If you're doing this for some sort of favor, then I have none to give," I bluntly replied.
"This is just unfair. Are you likening me to that foul-mannered Edmund? A lowborn desperate to rise above his station?" he started his rant. "A failed son tossed aside, desperate to prove his father wrong? A reject who'll take any opportunity to be accepted by society?"
I listened with a mixture of pity and repulsion. "Are we still talking about Edmund here?"
"Why do I hear my name again?" Edmund, once again, announced his arrival out of nowhere.
"Is this what happens behind my back? Don't believe anything he tells you, Lord Devon," he continued, hands to his waist.
Elena emerged behind him, with that usual curious look of a notorious gossiper.
"Are you all three going to follow me around, even here?" I scratched my head. How I wanted to be left alone. I wouldn't want to go back to the past, but I missed being ignored instead of being hounded by relative strangers.
"No, this time, you're all going to follow me," Elena proudly announced.
"What do you even mean?" I asked.
"My father's going to be hosted by the ruler of this town and you're going to come along," she said.
Her father was a baron, and that someone high-up was expected to be hosted in every friendly territory he went. That courtesy, however, was almost never extended to lowly nobles.
"I don't even know the Baron. Why would he want me to tag along?" I had, in fact, never even gotten close to Lord Greylock. I doubt he had even heard of me.
"She insisted to bring her friends along, that's why," Edmund said.
"It's just going to be a bunch of old farts talking. I had enough of that," she said.
That was the end of that discussion. It was not as if we could refuse the Baron. Even if we could, we wouldn't. There probably was a feast waiting for us, enough to cleanse our abused tongues of the tasteless garbage we'd been eating for weeks.
Not long after, a convoy of carriages was sent to fetch us from the port. There were about twenty of us escorted towards the castle. Including the Baron, Sir Lawrence, every knight onboard, and the few family members that came with them on the voyage.
The four of us ended up sharing the same carriage, despite the Baron's insistence for his daughter to ride with him. What ensued was a lively and noisy ride. Elena would point out any fascinating thing she spotted from the outside window. Clifford would then dutifully answer her every question. While Edmund would rise to object to Clifford every chance he got.
I stood silent in the corner. Not exactly hating the moment. Maybe I don't really hate their company. It could be that I had unfairly associated the grating monotony of the voyage with them.
Perhaps, this noise and activity was what it really felt like to be in a circle of friends.
And outside the suffocating confines of the ship, it didn't feel bad at all.