Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

22. Tilting at Seagulls



It was still mid-afternoon when we emerged. The roads were still thick with workers. It seemed that many had stopped for an afternoon lunch; some were napping underneath awnings, while others were hiding behind pillars and attempting to look busy. I joined in the throng, heading towards the very edge of the harbor.

The harbor of Northside was the least busy section in the city. Southside got occasional private deliveries (only the best, of course, and too elaborate to be trusted with the harbor district) and the Central district sometimes got overflow traffic. Northside, meanwhile, was rocky, too busy, and full of outflow from the tanneries. The only ships you saw on the harbor were the few fisherman brave enough to market “rare fish” in the markets.

One dodged us as we approached the small dock, his string of fish staring at me with their multitude of eyes. Duran stepped forward, mouth gaping. “They’re- they’re-”

“That’ll be from the dyers,” I said. “Keep moving.”

“Does it change the taste?” He was moving in the wrong direction. Following the fish. I sighed and turned.

“Why do they have extra eyes?”

When in doubt, lie. “They must have been blessed by Pisces.” Then, because I felt especially bad-tempered. “Ask Gaius about it next time you see him. I’m sure he can ask his god.”

Duran brightened. “Really?”

“I think, technically, you would need to ask the god of small fish. That would be Pisciculi.” Apis was already several paces down from us. He was kneeling down and looking at the dock. “I don’t think anyone’s been maintaining this. It’s rotting.”

Of course there was a god of small fish. “Those looked like medium fish to me.”

Someone had been maintaining the dock, when we finally made it there. They had helpfully thrown a woven carpet over the largest hole. When it had started to sink down, they had added a second carpet.

The trap was only revealed when Duran stepped on the second carpet and suddenly disappeared from view. I had to drag him out by the shoulder, sword and all. When he finally made it to the solid part of the dock, he stayed on his knees, gripping at the wood like he’d never seen solid ground before.

When we finally made it to the edge of the dock, I stared out at the water. The single island in the water was an insult to the name of islands everywhere. It was more like a peninsula that had, after years of a war of attrition, finally given up custody of its tip. At high tide, the rest of the peninsula would emerge, covered in seaweed and stinking.

Now it was a medium-ish tide, so I could see mostly water. Whenever the water pulled back for a wave, I could see crabs dashing for safety from the sun. The air was reluctant to show anything but sticky wind. Overhead, even the seagulls didn’t want to circle. They were stalking around on the exposed rock of the peninsula in between the island and the harbor, running from rock to rock as the waves tried to dislodge them. Lazy birds.

I could only see a few boats, all of them too far to call over.

There was only one solution for it. I turned back to my companions and leaned down to start tying up my skirts. “We’re walking.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” I said. “Might want to roll up your cuffs.”

It didn’t take much to tie my skirt up around my knees. I did it every week to finish my laundry, and half the women around here worked that way anyway. The roads got intermittently muddy and there was no reason to get your hem muddy.

I could see the bottom of the harbor from the dock, even though the mud. It could only be to my shins or so.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Duran, nervous. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to-”

I was already stepping off the dock. When I finally hit ground, my knees were the first to react. I felt the silt impact me all the way up to my spine. “Ugh.” I stumbled back and leaned on the dock, breathing. I shouldn’t be jumping off of docks anymore.

“I told you!” Duran leaned forward, his face pale. “Madam Elysia-”

I waved a hand impatiently at him. “Get down here! We’re wasting sunlight!” If I finished this before the end of Flight’s Feast, I could escape back to the inn before anyone made me act as Andrena’s Voice. Time was ticking.

I turned to wade through the water as the twin splashes of Duran and Apis followed me. The water was up to my thighs, soaking through my skirt. The path to shallower water at the peak of the peninsula was clear. Here, past the wave-break, the water was cool but not difficult to manage. The waves only gently pressed at me.

Behind me, I felt a hand grabbing at my shoulder. With each movement of the waves, Duran nearly toppled over. I’d forgotten he had a body-weight equivalent to the average small dog.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Duran,” I said. “If I help you now, you will not mention this again.”

He was splashing desperately. His head only came up to my shoulder- the water was up to his hips. He was barely staying up. I didn’t want to fish him out again. “I would never, Madam Elysia!”

I leaned over. “Climb on.”

I hadn’t grown out of pig-a-back rides, because I had never been silly enough for them in the first place. I had always been a sturdy, determined child. Except for the time I ran away from home, of course. And a few other incidents.

Those not included, I didn’t consider this silly, either. It was entirely a course of not letting Duran drown. His hands were clammy as he nearly strangled me.

“Thank you!” he cheered, his mouth directly next to my ear.

I jumped, nearly dislodging him. “Don’t- speak quieter.”

As he re-adjusted his hands, he nearly choked me. Up ahead, Apis was already halfway to the lighthouse. He’d stopped to defend a crab from a seagull. The seagull was winning.

I watched as he fell backwards, the seagull poking at his face. He held up his hands, the seagull beating at his hands. The crab had grabbed onto his collar.

These were my partners in this investigation. A boy who couldn’t wade through water and a man who thought a crab needed his help. They both defended your honor. What does that say?

I should have brought the staff.

I took strides as quickly as I could manage, the waves fighting against me. The rocks were slippery underneath my boots. Water had gotten into my socks. I’d need to re-wash my laundry.

At least I’d be visiting the Laundresses Guild soon enough.

“Duran, sword!”

I could feel him half-choking me again, clumsy child, as he leaned over and grabbed the sword. I leaned over to give him a better angle as he swung it. The bird, having a better sense of survival than most people, flew off with a vengeful caw.

“Sword away!”

With another shing! The sword was re-sheathed. I leaned forward and grabbed the crab off of Apis’s collar, where it was pinching at his neck. After a moment of thought, I put it in my apron pocket.

“You-”

“Crab is delicious,” I said. I frowned. It was from the harbor. Who knew what was in the water here? Then again, I’d grown up here. It hadn’t done anything wrong to me, had it? I’d eaten plenty of seafood.

I thought again of where I was and how I’d turned out.

Well. I shouldn’t give up free seafood, at any cost. Duran might appreciate it. There was little enough of it near the inn. I turned away and resumed stomping towards the lighthouse.

Whoever had built it hadn’t figured out the basics- that was, the direction “up”. It was distinctly leaning towards the city, uneven. There were no supports, although someone had put in more windows on the leaning side as if they were hoping removing some of the stone might fix the weight problem.

The light up-top wasn’t lit at the moment. Out front, where a few scrubby bushes grew and a single goat grazed, a pair of chairs had been set out. In one of them, a man sat. I finally emerged from the water, dripping, and pulled off my boots so I could wring out my socks.

“Ho there!”

He didn’t reply.

“Hello?” Asked Duran.

Apis strode forward further, ignoring his socks. “Sir?”

At his question, the man finally snorted awake. He was old, that was for sure. His forehead was liver-spotted, his nose prominent. He had a full head of gray hair that had been pulled back with a tie in the style of western sailors.

He pushed himself up on an elbow and squinted in between us. “I won’t pay for anything else that damn goat’s eaten,” he said. “I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again. She’s her own woman!”


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