Anthin had forgotten just how much he disliked sea travel. He developed a ‘feeling’ in his stomach and was forced to endure each and every up and down of the ship as it passed over the waves.

  It wasn’t bad at first. The Guild Navigator arrived on time. Anthin was already a-board, and all was ready. He’d retired to his cabin to stow his bags and found his cabin mate to be a seedy looking fellow who seemed intent to remain quiet and aloof for the four days they were together. He returned to the deck to observe as the ship made its way into the harbour to pass the Havens.

  The Guild Navigator was at the helm issuing commands and steering the ship along. Confident in her ability to pass through the winding unpredictable path. She was flanked by a Fedenaian soldier, young but tough looking. All Guild Navigators were protected and the soldiers took the task seriously lest any of their charges be taken by force.

  Feden controlled the shipping in south western Etrusia and held it in an iron grip. They had the only viable port with access to easy roads and a shared border with Dimabri. All other ways involved mountains, rocks or sand. Due to the coastal fens and steep cliffs in the Bay of Loss there was no other landing anywhere nearby.

  Rumour had it from those who had made the trip more than once that it was never the same. Every passage took a different path and sometimes if you were looking the islands and shoals seemed to move. This was Anthin’s second trip, the first one being so many years ago that comparing them was impossible. As far as moving islands, he never noticed anything the last time and it didn't appear there'd be anything this time.

  Once past the shoals, reefs and islands with only one–the largest–still in sight they were met by a Fendenian Navy frigate. The local navy dissuaded ships from circumventing the need for Navigators, though by all accounts it was impossible to find one’s way through without them. That island held a mighty fortress and light tower and was where Navigators were dispatched from for trips into the bay.

  Lines were tossed between the ships and the Guild Navigator and her guard transferred to the frigate and Swell’s Mercy was on its Way. The open sea was calm. Captain Dorman was back at the helm and with nothing to do Anthin retired to his cabin again. His roommate was not there this time so he dug in his saddle bag for a well read copy of The Book of Witness and settled into his bunk.

  Dinner was served in the ship’s mess, a hearty fish stew with warm bread. The passengers and Captain ate before the crew. There were six of them plus the Captain. Anthin and his roommate, a young Wayran couple he presumed were together and two other gentlemen who had the look of merchants about them. He ate his stew and enjoyed it. As with the calm sea, so was his stomach. The passengers relayed their appreciation for the meal to the Captain, making him promise to pass it on to the cook.

  Night brought rougher waters that in turn brought a restless night's sleep for Anthin. Dreams of vaulting up and swinging down brought him awake frequently. Coupled with his roommate’s snoring he barely managed any sleep at all. From there on the voyage was hard on his stomach.

  He did learn some things about happenings in Warya over the next few days. However sensitive his belly felt he managed to be up and around. He took his meals in turn though didn’t consume much beyond water. He came up to the deck open to the sky above with the sea stretching away on the horizon. Talk among the passengers was about Wayra and the troubles there. That it was a matter of public concern was surprising to Anthin, things must be worse off than even the Church’s latest reports.

  His cabin mate was heading home after a long stint working at sea. The young couple were returning from a trip abroad and the two merchants were looking out for business interests in the Wayran Capital. All were uniformly worried about what they’d be returning to. Relatives and contacts had written alarming stories about a regime change, Church sanctioned no less. Others had told them about rumours of new dangers in the Basin Desert though no one could elaborate when pressed for information. It also became apparent that some of the disappearances in the city might be politically motivated. Even their Captain was hoping to unload and sell off his cargo. He planned to get his family from the city and take them somewhere until the trouble blew over. Most discussed however was word of a mysterious illness in the capital city. One that had already claimed the life of the governor and others besides.

  Political issues could explain the difficulty accessing the city he’d been told of. As could the illness. Though it wouldn’t explain the vague and confusing nature of the reports from the area. It also wouldn’t explain the lack of communication through the Church’s contacts, especially considering the ‘Church sanctioned’ aspect of the coup. If the Church had sanctioned political upheaval he wasn’t aware of it. A worse thought was, what if it was omitted intentionally? Keeping him blind to the situation didn’t make any sense though as he’d be certain to find it out on his arrival.

  The tidings about the Basin were dismissible, it was a harsh and unforgiving desert and had spawned many mysteries and rumours over the course of history. The more so due to its being the sole origin of basin crystals. Wealth and secrecy, coupled with the rarity of the coveted jewels bred rumours aplenty.

  As Swell’s Mercy approached Wayra, Anthin was again in his quarters. He was reading, or attempting to in between bouts of nausea. A cry from the deck brought him upright and was followed by the sounds of booted feet hurrying around above, many booted feet! Something was up, he was certain. The cry had been one of alarm. He got up and put his book in his bag. He figured they were close to port by now anyway. Down the hall with his own booted feet clomping on the floor he mounted the stairs to the deck.

  What he found was that almost everyone's attention was turned ahead off the bow. There looming nearby were two Wayran navy vessels positioned to block access forward. Past them in the distance lay the city of Wayra glistening in the sun with still more navy ships blockading access to the harbour. The Captain had ordered sails down, a full stop and had turned the helm over to his first mate as he yelled to get his passenger’s attention.

  “Nothing to worry about gentlemen, and lady. They’ve signalled us in advance that they are approaching. This should be a normal inspection. A few questions and we’re on our way again.” The Captain reassured them. “We are a registered Wayran vessel so there is no problem. It's best to just do as you're asked when they board and they’ll move on.”

  The larger of the two navy ships came alongside Swell’s Mercy. As before in Phai, lines were tossed and the two ships secured. A plank ran across between them. Over that plank came a goodly number of marines. More Anthin was sure, than what was required for a simple cargo inspection. Anthin counted twenty-five, fighters all, followed by an officer who approached Captain Dorman.

  “Captain! I am Second Officer Thorne of the Wayran Navy.” His voice was loud enough to be heard by all. “I require papers for all your goods and passengers. As well as any goods transported on their behalf. I also need you all separated. Wayran citizens with you on deck. Foreigners should stay below, including any in your crew.”

  Dorman glared at the officer. “This is an unusual request Second Officer. I’m a registered Wayran shipper. You can inspect my goods and papers if you will, but my passengers… May I ask why?”

  “You may. I’m not obligated to inform you though. Suffice it to say that it is the will of your government.” The officer was annoyed with the Captain, one not used to being questioned. “Now see to it or my marines will!” The last was without doubt an order!

  The passengers and crew having heard the orders, dispersed as directed. Anthin returned to his cabin as did his roommate who merely grabbed his own belongings and returned to the deck. Anthin settled in to wait.

  It was unusual, these orders from the Wayran government. At no time since Sayoshti’s Sacrifice had traffic between the four realms ever been impeded so. Not for the first time Anthin mused that things were much worse than he’d been informed, it complicated his purpose here. Still there was nothing to be done about it for now and he’d not be able to get free of so many armed marines. He’d wait and show his papers which were Church issued and would serve him anywhere in Etrusia. When his time came he'd answer whatever questions he was asked.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  It wasn’t long before there was a knock at his door and someone on the other side called out. “All foreigners in Wayra move to the mess hall.” The phrase repeated down the hall as the messenger moved on. With no option but to comply Anthin exited the cabin and made his way.

  There were fourteen of them gathered in the mess. Most were crew, other than himself only one of the Merchants was present, from Feden by the look of him. Captain Dorman was present as well. The Second Officer entered straight after, his demeanour was terse and no nonsense.

  “All foreign passengers and crew are to be detained by the Wayran Government.” A collective sound of disappointment filled the room as folk began to talk over each other.

  “How long?” “What for?” “We didn’t do anything!” Other such objections were hurled about. “What about my goods?” From the Merchant.

  “Enough!” The Second Officer’s voice cut through the cacophony like a knife, silencing all. “All will be made clear after docking and sorting you all out. Your belongings will follow. All I require of you now is to stay here together while we dock.”

  “What about my ship Sir? You’re detaining almost half my crew?” The Captain’s demanding tone wasn’t cowed.

  “As to that.” The officer smirked at him. “All goods are subject to seizure as well. You’ll be given a voucher for the full value. Take it to the courthouse and you’ll be paid.”

  The officer exited the mess hall to the sputtering sounds of the Captain’s incredulity. To ensure their obedience he left a guard on the door. The Captain being Wayran by birth, left to chase after him, his body tense with anger that he dare not let loose. The rest of them were left there to their own devices while Swell’s Mercy was escorted into harbour. For a wonder in all the excitement, Anthin’s nausea had subsided.

  The ship docked with little trouble despite the missing crew. Soon after Anthin and the others were herded out of the mess to the deck. The Second Officer flanked by two soldiers stood at the top of the stairway.

  “Your weapons if you have any. Please turn them over to my marines.” It was not open for debate.

  Anthin unbuckled his sword belt and handed it to the waiting soldier as those in the group with weapons did the same. They were then prompted down the gangplank to the docks. The area was much the same as any other dockyard the world over. Stone piers and wooden jetties thrusting into the harbour. There were ships everywhere, moored and taking up almost every available berth. He spied no ships flagged under any other nation.

  He’d never been to Wayra’s capital city before but his attempts to see beyond his immediate area were hampered by the crowd and tall buildings. The group of detainees was led down a narrow alley to a large warehouse with four guards assigned with getting them there. Those guards remained stone faced and silent other than the occasional “move along” directed at anyone who slowed. For answers thus far there were none, the Second Officer hadn’t even departed the ship.

  They were brought inside. The warehouse had been converted to a makeshift detention centre with lines of boxed timber rooms filling most of the available space inside. More guards patrolled the corridors. How many are detained here and why, wondered Anthin. The official reason for them being foreign would make sense, a census perhaps of visitors from out of the country. Yet even that felt wrong. It had to be tied to the illness or the coup.

  He was guided by a guard's hand on his shoulder into one of the wooden rooms and the door was closed behind him. He knew from seeing the other rooms along their path that the door would be locked from outside. They were in effect cells. As for creature comforts… there were none. The furniture inside consisted of a rough plank pallet with a thin mattress, a chamber pot and a pitcher of water. Anthin tested the mattress and found it to be stuffed with straw.

  Resigned to his situation he tasted the pitcher of water, it was wet but warm. He then sat upon the pallet and with nothing else to do he prayed to Sayoshti.

  “Holy Saviour, grant me the patience and fortitude to endure what lies ahead of me. Grant me the wisdom to know what path I must walk. Give me hope for Dav and Tanisin, that they are succeeding in their endeavours.” He made a sign as he finished the prayer then he waited.

  How long he did not know with no reference for time. He felt it was a few hours, not more than that. He was used to solitude so being alone didn’t bother him, being locked up was another matter but it was one he couldn’t help. What he did was wait. He meditated, a practice he’d learned during his time in Bayamak. He cleared his mind and focused on his breathing.

  The Bayamaki mystics, those that still held to the old ways predating the Church, were renowned for their ability to meditate. They could enter a mental state where no outside influence could affect them. Weather, extreme cold or heat, pain. Short of killing one could not shake them from their trances. They did it to ‘see the unseen’ and to ‘feel the questions and answers from the Mother’ being their name for Etrusia. Many in Bayamak still rejected the Church’s ways, sticking to old traditions and culture. The deeper one ventured into the country the more backwards and barbaric they seemed as a people. Anthin had spent many years there, it was his first posting after his pilgrimage so long ago.

  He waited, prayed and meditated, passing the time. Eventually he was brought back to reality by the sounds of men outside the door. The rustle of keys in the lock preceding the door opening. Anthin was on his feet by then, ready for whatever may come. A guard stood there beckoning him to follow. The guard led him down the corridor between cells as silent as the last had been till they turned a corner and approached another wooden room, this one larger than the others. The guard opened the door for him and gestured for him to enter.

  “Have a seat, someone will be with you.” He was told in curt tones. Following the instructions Anthin sat in one of the two chairs in the room separated by a table. This time he wasn’t left waiting long. Within moments an new officer entered the room and sat across from him.

  “Good Day Officer.” Anthin opened. He hoped to get the interview over expediently and be on his way.

  “Good day.” This Officer seemed at least to be more amiable than the one from the ship. “You have your papers with you?”

  “I do sir.” He reached into his cloak to produce them, handing them over. “As you can see I’m clergy and all should be in order.”

  The officer looked at the proffered papers. They were standard fare. All Church officials carried such and they were accepted in each of the four realms. After a cursory scrutiny the Officer dropped them to the table in front of him.

  “What’s the purpose of your visit to Wayra?”

  Anthin, seeing no need to indulge his true mission simply stated “Personal reasons Sir. Visiting some acquaintances in the city.” While not entirely true it wasn’t an outright lie.

  “To what end and where are you from?”

  “Simply to visit as I said. I came from the Citadel though I am originally from Dimabri.” Anthin was annoyed with these questions. He’d travelled all over Etrusia in his career and never been treated as such before. “If you’ll allow me to send a message I’m certain I can have everything verified shortly for you.” He was hopeful for the permission. He had a few contacts in the city and while none of them had sent him any news or forewarned him of the current situation in Wayra they would vouch for him.

  “We will see, about the message. Meanwhile, have you recently or are you currently experiencing any signs of illness?”

  “No, I am quite healthy at the moment.”

  Good. There is a sickness in the city and we are trying to contain it. Now are you or have you at any time been acting on behalf of any foreign government?”

  “No Sir. My only service is to Sayoshti’s Church.”

  “Has anyone related to you ever acted on behalf of a foreign government?”

  “Why yes Sir. My father was a Dimabrian nobel and my family’s charged with the oversight of both Nobel’s Ford and Nobel’s Pass in the Dimabrian mountains. My elder brother has since taken up that mantle.”

  “Okay, I’ll see about your message now. To whom are you sending it?”

  “I would like to send it to Edwyne Rethmore. He’s a merchant inside the city. He owns a shop and a warehouse or two near the docks.”

  The Officer stood advising Anthin to “Stay here.” He exited the room, presumably to see about providing Anthin with an answer on his request. He soon returned with parchment and ink. Seating himself he passed them over to Anthin. Pleased to be able to do this much at least Anthin composed his letter.

  Master Rethmore.

  I find myself detained on route to visit you by the Wayran Government and have assured them that a message to you would suffice to verify both my identity and my purpose in visiting your home. If you could, please present yourself on my behalf at the detention centre.

  I look forward to seeing you.

  Your Friend, Anthin

  He passed the parchment back to the Officer. “I believe that delivering this will provide the reassurance you require. If you could ensure it is delivered with haste.”

  “It’ll get to your friend when it does but I’ll ensure it’s sent.” Standing, the Officer knocked on the door which was opened by a guard, the same who’d escorted him there. “Return Brother Anthin to holding and bring me the next one.” He ordered.

  Anthin left the interrogation room and followed his guard back to the cell they’d stuck him in. As silent and perfunctory as the last time the guard merely opened the door and waited for Anthin to enter before closing and locking it again. Resigned to more waiting Anthin sat again upon the pallet.