oceans of knowledge. He let others do the physical labor of plying a ship over the waves.
Thorgis nodded and turned to stand alone and thoughtful in the prow. The captain gave Syrus a skeptical glance, but he could do no more than run his hand over the stubble of his shaved head. He had struggled to keep it short while aboard, the constant rocking making his hand unsteady with the razor. He had a cut on his scalp for the trouble he had taken. Still, cleanliness and grooming were daily mediations on discipline he never skipped.
They made landfall, expecting some level of resistance and finding none. Settlements on the eastern coast of Avadur were fewer due to the distant blue mountains crowding the coast. Ships and warriors were vigilant to the west, where Valahur lay. The circuitous route to Raffheim from the east coast cost time but preserved their lives. When the ship shuddered ashore, archers were still ready to face any threat, but nothing showed. Birds chirped in the trees and the waves broke on the shore. For the first time in days the rest of the crew murmured happily. They were going to pull out from this land and not return for a month. While all were admirable warriors, they were also practical men. Sailing into Avadur with a single ship could be deadly, and they still had a return journey to make. Syrus noted men holding the silver shark's tooth at their necks and whispering to the Great Shark. They hoped the god's unblinking eye would pass them by and let them sail undisturbed through his watery realm. Syrus had muttered the same prayers.
Now the gangplank dropped, and the captain stood expectantly. The crew had piled leather sacks of supplies, more than Syrus could carry alone. He doubted Thorgis would stoop to becoming his own porter. They had ample food as well as his tools for study and for survival in the field. As expected, Thorgis stepped past all these supplies as he mounted the gangplank. He paused, glanced back at everyone as if he were about to leap from a cliff, then continued down the gangplank. Syrus gathered what he could, finding one trunk too heavy and bulky to carry.
"It's Lord Thorgis's mail coat," said the captain. "You might want that in case of a fight."
"I'll send the quiet lord back up to fetch it," he said. "He can carry it on his back."
The captain gave a fluid smile, and Syrus bounced down the plank, feeling it sag under his weight. He dumped the bags upslope in the brown grass close to where Thorgis stood staring at the black trees. "You left your mail aboard. I can't manage it with all else, so you should either wear or carry it. Or feel free to catch arrows with your chest, if that suits you, lord."
Thorgis's squint widened at the barb, but he still made no answer. Instead he trundled up the plank to retrieve his trunk from the captain. Syrus stared at him as he slouched back down and let the trunk crash into the sand. The captain hauled up the gangplank and his crew pushed the ship back into the sea. Both he and Syrus watched it go until it sailed out of the cove.
Syrus consulted his map and reconciled the landmarks. They were still days from Raffheim, but their destination would be closer. He had to approach Tsaldalr without being seen, but the map marked no paths. Of course, this side of Avadur was sparsely inhabited for a good reason. The land was mountainous and unforgiving.
"We will have to skirt the mountains and be on the watch for local people. We have no gear to traverse the mountains, in any case." Syrus watched Thorgis, who made no reply other than a nod of the head. He hefted his trunk and Syrus gathered their packs and they started out.
The first day of the journey was a challenge, with Syrus dropping the packs and stumbling with alarming consistency. Eventually, Thorgis wore his mail coat, and packed some of Syrus's burdens into his emptied box. Their first night they did not dare a fire, and the weather grew so bitterly cold that the two huddled for warmth.
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes