Against The World

Chapter 99: Salt on the Wind

The first thing to pass through the Orselle gate was a weighted wooden sled.

It belonged to Eleanor.

She watched it cross with the expression of someone waiting for it to confess.

On the far side, the mason caught the rope and pulled.

The sled scraped over the repaired threshold.

Nothing broke.

Eleanor looked at the Castellan’s plate.

“Well?”

“Transfer completed within expected limits.”

She nodded.

“Bring it back.”

Beside me, Tamsin held her letter so tightly that the paper had begun to bend.

We brought the sled back.

Then sent it through again with more weight.

By the fourth crossing, Bren had folded his arms.

Tamsin watched him through the open gate.

“He’s doing that deliberately.”

“What?”

“Looking patient.”

The threshold repairs had taken eight days.

The mason’s name was Jessa.

She and Eleanor had become friends in the particular way of people who spent most of their conversations disagreeing over stone.

The new bedding had set. The floor marks had been restored. The receiving controls answered from both ends.

The Castellan approved a short passage window.

Tamsin crossed first.

One moment she stood beside me.

The next, her boots were on the floor at Orselle.

Bren reached for her.

She thrust the letter against his chest before putting her arms around him.

He held her with his chin tucked over her shoulder.

For a while, neither moved.

Then he looked down at the letter.

“You could have told me.”

“I wrote it before we knew the bell worked.”

“What does it say?”

“That I’d arrived safely.”

He laughed.

She hit his arm.

Eleanor cleared her throat.

They moved out of the receiving area.

I went through with Eliza, Aldren, and two guards.

Evelyn would follow after we had seen the quay and agreed the arrangements for her visit.

She had accepted this without argument.

Then she had informed me that if I returned describing the sea for half an hour, she would make me take her immediately.

I intended to keep my account brief.

The crossing felt like the others.

A moment of pressure.

A change in the air.

Then salt caught at the back of my throat.

Outside, gulls were shouting.

I stood on the receiving floor and listened.

Bren watched me.

“Your Majesty?”

“Sorry.”

“No need. They never stop.”

Orselle climbed the slope above its harbor in rows of pale houses.

Some had blue doors.

Others had green shutters.

Almost every roof appeared to be holding something down with a stone.

Ropes creaked against moorings. Men called from one boat to another. A woman in an apron carried a basket past us without slowing, though she looked back twice after noticing the guards.

Beyond the harbor wall, the sea stretched beneath a clear winter sky.

I stopped.

The others went another few paces before realizing.

It was darker than the sea I remembered from home.

Or perhaps the light was different.

Long bands of blue-grey moved beyond the shelter of the harbor. White broke against the outer rocks, vanished, and returned.

For several breaths, I could remember the feel of wet sand giving way beneath my feet.

Then a gull landed on a post beside me.

It looked at my hands.

Finding no food, it left.

Tamsin smiled.

“Welcome to Orselle.”

The harbor council waited in a room above the customs house.

There were six chairs on their side of the table.

One had a cushion.

Its occupant, an elderly woman named Selka, noticed me looking.

“If we negotiate for long enough, you’ll wish you’d brought one.”

“I may wish that quite soon.”

That earned a few smiles.

The others introduced themselves.

A shipwright.

A fish merchant.

Two ward representatives.

The harbor master, whose name was Oren Pell.

They had read the written assurance we had sent through during the tests.

Opening the gate would not place Orselle under Greykeep’s rule.

Selka touched the page.

“We appreciate the clarity.”

“I would rather begin with something we all understand.”

“So would we.”

She reached for another document.

“Then we should discuss the warehouse roof.”

Behind me, Aldren quietly took out his pencil.

We agreed to begin with a limited exchange.

Named visitors.

Small consignments.

A few scheduled openings while the keepers learned the work and we measured what the gate could sustain.

Tamsin would remain responsible for the quay.

Bren would share the watch.

Greykeep would supply the parts needed for the old mechanism, and Orselle would provide the labor and upkeep of its receiving buildings.

Cargo would be declared at both ends.

Disputes would go first to the officials where they arose, with a named person on the other side who could be reached.

It was all familiar enough to proceed steadily.

Then Oren looked at me.

“And troops?”

Eliza lifted her eyes from the route drawing.

“What about them?” I asked.

“Merchants become protection. Protection becomes a barracks. Then someone explains that the town has acquired obligations.”

“We’re not establishing a garrison.”

“If one becomes necessary?”

“We discuss it.”

“And if we refuse?”

“Then you have refused.”

Oren watched my face.

I let him.

At last, he looked toward the others.

Selka made a note.

We returned to the roof.

On the way back, Tamsin showed me the older end of the quay.

The stone there was darker.

A worn crown remained above an arch through which workers were rolling barrels.

Someone had carved small fish around it.

I smiled.

“How old are those?”

“The fish?”

“Yes.”

“My brother was twelve.”

Bren, walking behind us, made a noise of protest.

“You said you wouldn’t tell.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell Father.”

I looked back at him.

He lifted one shoulder.

“The crown looked lonely.”

Beyond the arch stood a low shrine built into the harbor wall.

There were shells on its ledge.

A little lamp burned behind thick glass.

“Whose shrine?” I asked.

“The harbor’s,” Tamsin said. “People leave something before sailing. Or afterward, if they’re grateful.”

“Is there a name?”

“Several. Depends who you ask.”

An old man seated nearby was tying a knot in a length of cord.

He looked up.

“The sea knows who we mean.”

Tamsin nodded toward him.

“That’s usually where the argument ends.”

I returned to Greykeep before the passage window closed.

Evelyn was waiting in the gate court.

She looked at my face.

“Oh, dear.”

“What?”

“You liked it.”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

I tried to think of an answer that would not become half an hour.

She laughed and took my hand.

“When?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. If the morning tests hold.”

“And the council?”

“We’ve agreed the first terms. They’d like to meet you.”

“Good.”

Then she leaned closer.

“And the sea?”

I kissed her cheek.

“It’s still there.”

That night, Aurelia taught us to notice the edge of a working.

She made a faint ring of light above the courtyard stones.

Then asked me to place a little pressure against it.

I did.

The ring vanished.

“Too much?” I asked.

“Yes.”

Evelyn stood beside me, studying the place where it had been.

Aurelia made another.

This time, my wife reached toward it.

Her fingers stopped before touching the light.

“There.”

“What do you feel?” Aurelia asked.

“A little resistance. Like putting my hand near running water.”

I tried again.

At first, I felt nothing.

Then I found it.

The place where Aurelia’s power held its shape against the air.

“Good,” she said. “Now follow it.”

The ring widened.

I followed.

It folded into an arch.

I lost it.

Evelyn did too.

Aurelia waited while we found it again.

“Could this help us understand the gates?” I asked.

“Some parts. Their workings are much more complicated.”

“Or another person’s shield?”

“Yes.”

“How do I break one?”

Evelyn glanced at me.

Aurelia did not seem surprised.

“First, learn to recognize where it is.”

“And after that?”

“We’ll learn what holds it.”

She changed the arch into a small dome.

Evelyn moved around it, keeping one hand raised.

I watched her.

She was concentrating so hard that a strand of hair had fallen across her mouth without being noticed.

I reached to move it.

The dome disappeared.

She turned toward me.

“I had it.”

“I was helping.”

“That seems debatable.”

Aurelia laughed.

I had heard her laugh before.

This time, it filled the courtyard.

For a moment, the trees beyond the wall sharpened into greater detail.

Then she made the dome again.

The following afternoon, Helena took charge of the nursery before we had finished explaining our plans.

“I know where you’re going.”

“We’ll be back before the next feed,” Evelyn said.

“I know that too.”

Garrick stood beside her holding our son.

Carol lay awake in her cradle, looking toward the sound of our voices.

Evelyn bent to kiss her.

Then she kissed Garrick, who immediately caught a loose strand of her hair.

Her father helped release it.

“You see?” he said. “We shall have plenty to occupy us.”

My wife looked at both children once more.

Then she took my arm.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

We reached the door.

She looked back.

Helena waved us out.

Evelyn stopped on the receiving floor at Orselle.

Exactly where I had stopped.

I watched her breathe in.

Bren greeted us, but she was already looking toward the open doorway.

He followed her gaze.

“Straight ahead, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you.”

We went outside.

Her hand tightened around mine.

The tide was lower than it had been on my first visit. Wet stone showed beneath the quay, green near the waterline.

A fishing boat moved slowly through the harbor entrance.

Beyond it, the sea reached the sky.

Evelyn said nothing.

I stood beside her.

The wind pulled at her cloak and loosened the hair near her temples.

After a while, she turned toward me.

“There’s so much of it.”

“Yes.”

“And you grew up with this?”

“Not beside it. We visited.”

“With Caroline?”

I nodded.

She looked back at the water.

“Tell me.”

I told her about cold beaches.

About my mother packing food as though the journey might last several weeks.

About my father insisting the weather would improve because he had already paid for somewhere to stay.

Evelyn laughed.

“Did it?”

“Eventually. Usually when we were leaving.”

“And Caroline?”

“She liked finding things.”

“Shells?”

“Shells. Stones. Bits of glass worn smooth.”

“Did you?”

“I liked whatever she found.”

“That sounds inconvenient for her.”

“It was.”

We walked slowly along the inner quay.

Eliza and the guards stayed a little behind us.

Tamsin pointed out a flight of steps that led to a sheltered strip of shingle beyond the warehouses.

“We have time before the council.”

Evelyn looked at me.

I offered my hand.

The stones shifted beneath our boots.

Evelyn took one cautious step.

Then another.

A little wave reached the shore and withdrew with a sound like beads sliding through a bowl.

She crouched.

I held her hand while she touched the wet pebbles.

“That one,” she said.

It was grey, crossed by a thin white line.

I picked it up and gave it to her.

She turned it in her palm.

“For the painting table.”

“We could find you a finer one.”

“I like this one.”

So we kept it.

A larger wave rolled toward us.

We stepped back together.

Not quite quickly enough.

Water washed over the toe of my boot.

Evelyn looked down.

Then up at me.

“An experienced visitor.”

“The beach moved.”

She laughed hard enough that Tamsin turned to see whether we needed help.

We did not.

The council meeting lasted less than an hour.

Evelyn asked about the people who carried the goods.

Where they would wait.

Whether the first opening times would conflict with the fishing boats unloading.

Oren moved two proposed arrivals later in the morning.

The fish merchant looked relieved.

Then Selka asked about Greykeep’s growing church.

I felt the room change.

Evelyn rested her hands on the table.

“What would you like to know?”

“Whether using your gate requires our town to adopt your goddess.”

“No.”

“And your merchants?”

“They will follow your laws here, just as yours will follow ours in Greykeep,” I said. “They may worship peacefully. So may you.”

Selka nodded.

One of the ward representatives looked toward Oren.

He seemed to consider something.

Then he reached for the proposed cargo schedule.

“Our first consignment can be ready in three days.”

The conversation continued.

Before we left, Jessa asked Eleanor to return through the gate for one final look at the threshold.

The two women crouched over it while the rest of us waited.

Tamsin handed Mary the harbor council’s signed agreement.

Bren stood beside the plate, watching the time.

I looked out through the doorway once more.

A boy was running along the quay carrying a coil of rope nearly as large as himself.

A woman called after him to slow down.

He slowed only while looking back.

Evelyn followed my gaze.

“Our son,” she said.

“You’ve decided?”

“I’m imagining.”

“Carol might be worse.”

“She might.”

We stood shoulder to shoulder.

For a moment, I could almost see them older.

Dark heads in the sunlight.

Small boots running toward something they had never seen before.

Then Eleanor stood, and it was time to go home.

We returned to find Carol asleep against Helena’s shoulder.

Garrick was awake.

He greeted Evelyn’s arrival with immediate, unmistakable demands.

She took him from her father.

“Yes, I know.”

I removed my damp boot.

Helena noticed.

“Did you fall in?”

“Only slightly.”

Evelyn laughed.

Then settled into her chair with our son.

Her father asked about the harbor.

I told him about the gate, the council, and Bren’s carved fish.

My wife told Helena about the water.

As she spoke, she took the little grey stone from her pocket and set it beside the paint box.

It left a dark patch of damp on the wood.

Neither of us moved it.

Later, while Evelyn fed Carol, I opened the blue book.

I wrote down the names of the people we had met.

The first passage date.

The goods Orselle intended to send.

Then I added that Evelyn had seen the sea.

She read that line when she came to sit beside me.

“You should put in the boot.”

“I was hoping history might overlook it.”

“History was there.”

I gave her the pen.

She added a sentence beneath mine.

Then closed the book and leaned against my shoulder.

Across the room, her little stone caught the lamplight.

Tomorrow, there would be work.

We had a coast to trade with, a kingdom to tend, and lessons we were still clumsy at learning.

Tonight, our children slept nearby.

My wife’s hair smelled faintly of salt.

I turned my head and kissed it.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!