Page 61 of Saint
Gold inkpots were fixed on the table before them, where an array of parchment was stacked in varying heights. One of the women wore a stone around her neck so large that it looked like it could be a lantern’s flame.
There wasn’t one among them who hadn’t grown up on those streets outside or ones like them. Yet, here they were, pretending to be Saltbloods. I bit the inside of my cheek when a bitter smirk pulled at my lips.
The man sitting at the end of the table had my summons open in his hands. His white mustache moved as he smiled up at me. “Ah. Elias, is it?”
“That’s right,” I answered, finding my feet beneath me again. That name didn’t feel familiar like it once had.
“I’m Faros, master of the Shipwrights Guild. This is Corinne, Smiths Guild. And here we have Edgar, Gem Guild, and Irva, Sailmakers Guild.”
Each of them nodded as he spoke their names and his voice echoed around us, cut only by the sound of the fire. Its warm glow bled through the room, casting it in a dreamlike light.
“It’s an honor to meet you, son.” The woman Faros had called Irva smiled, and despite her calling meson,her tone wasn’t maternal. Her eyes moved from my face, down my chest in a way I recognized. “You’re one of the first Narrows-born helmsmen we’ve had the honor to grant a trade license. And you won’t be the last.”
“Hear! Hear!” Edgar tapped the table beside his parchment with the knuckles of one hand.
The clip of footsteps echoed again and the woman from the dais returned with a triangular package wrapped in brown paper cradled in her arms. She set it beside Irva before disappearing, but not without one more glance back at us.
Faros clasped his hands before him. “It says here you have a ship. TheAster.”
“We do. She’s being finished as we speak and will be sea ready by the time we get back to Dern.”
“That’s good. Don’t want our traders sailing in rags, now do we?”
His mouth tilted in a playful grin, as if I were in on the joke. Like we were the same. He had no idea how wrong he was about that.
“And have you a crew?”
“This is my navigator,” I answered, giving him only half an answer. Clove was crew, but that was all I had of one.
“Well, I’m sure once you’re settled on theAster,you’ll have your pick of the rest.”
Irva made a sound that resembled an agreement. She took up the paper-wrapped package and got to her feet, coming around the table. When she stopped before me, she held it out between us. “You’ll need to fly that crest if you want the harbor masters to know who’s coming.” She winked.
I took the package in my hands, realizing by the weightthat it was a sail. A clean, white, unstitched sail that bore the symbol we’d be known by for the rest of our lives.
Faros came around the table next, and the others stood, chairs scraping over the marble floor. Irva stepped aside, hands clasped behind her back, and Faros lifted a rolled parchment tied in a red satin ribbon into the air. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my hand steady as I took it from him.
“Well, go ahead,” he said.
I pulled at the ribbon and it unraveled, letting the parchment unroll in my fingers. The tight feeling in my throat was now a painful lump.
The lavish scrolling letters curved across the top of the parchment in glossy black ink. Beneath it, the crest I’d had the smith make for us was etched onto the page. A curling wave arched over a single triangular sail.
By the power of the Trade Council of the Narrows
This certifies that thebearer of this crestis hereby licensed to trade goods at ports Ceros, Dern, and Sowan.
Helmsman: Elias Redgrave
23SAINT
Griff had the rye ready to open when we returned. One of the finest bottles he kept in the back under Daya’s watchful eye.
The tavern was filled to the brim, the sound of a fiddle playing somewhere beyond the crowd that stretched from the door to the counter. It was a busy night. The harbor was full, the taverns were full, and we weren’t the only ones celebrating. The rumor making its way door-to-door in Ceros was that the Trade Council had granted four trade licenses by the time the sun went down. There were four ships, four crests, four helmsmen to contend with the Unnamed Sea. And by the time the sun rose tomorrow, we’d be going port to port stealing the contracts of the Saltbloods and writing new ones. With our own people.
Daya set down a fresh loaf of bread in the center of thetable, careful not to spill the pitcher of ale in her other hand. I could finally stomach it now that I had the license in my possession and we were already on our second pot of tea. Clove reached for the plate, tearing the loaf in two and leaving the other half for me. He slathered a mound of butter over its top before taking a bite that could choke him.
“Can’t wait to see the look on Gerik’s face.” He took another bite before he’d even swallowed.
