Chapter 6 #2
Approaching the narrow rampway down to the wood-paneled docks, Lenna dismounted, tying her horse to the thin railing to the side of the cobblestone path down to the ships.
“Orla, do you recognize any of the sailors working on either of those two large ships?” Lenna pointed them out, chewing her lip, a small sliver of doubt rearing its ugly head.
Trying to get them both on a manifest–without too many questions asked–was going to take luck and a prayer.
Lenna hoped none of the captains from last night were here.
A chill ran down her spine. What if they recognized her?
Would they go running straight back to Leon?
Lenna tucked her bright, noticeable hair further into her hood–hoping that the gods would take mercy on her and her two wayward companions.
Orla peeled back her hood, squinting her eyes against the sun. Still on her horse, she fought a wobble to rise higher in the stirrups, trying to make out individual faces of the figures shouting, moving crates, laboring to get the ships out to sea as quickly as possible.
By some divine miracle, she didn’t have to look long.
A voice shouted above the din of port. “Orla!”
Orla whirled around and squealed with glee, quickly clambering off her horse to rush towards the squat young man in a sailor’s cap that spotted her as he came out of the shop closest to them.
Lenna shot a quizzical, almost disbelieving look over to Marlo, who merely shrugged, his eyes fixated on Orla as she clasped her hands into the sunburnt grasp of the sailor who looked to be a few years younger than her.
Lenna saw the young man cup her face and ask a question, most likely about the bruises on her cheeks, but Orla shook her head and laughed as if she was dismissing the question.
They spoke a few more minutes, Orla talking quickly and gesturing to the ships behind them, the sailor nodding along, interjecting here and there.
They were too far away for Lenna to make out what they were saying.
But then, Orla turned to pull the sailor back to where Marlo and Lenna waited.
Marlo slid off his horse, pulling his pack off the saddle, before collecting Orla’s as well.
“Lenna, Marlo,” Orla said breathlessly, “this is my cousin, Dollin. He was just telling me that he got a job out of Bardon on that ship.” She pointed to the largest vessel with pale-yellow sails.
Lenna breathed a sigh of relief. Yellow sails meant the ship was owned by someone from Bardon–not affiliated with Leon’s fleet.
The gods were really looking their way today as Orla confirmed with Dollin that he could absolutely get them passage to Bardon, and that he had just been in the shop to grab last minute documents for his captain before they boarded to sail.
Marlo strode forward, grasping hands with Dollin, and the two exchanged pleasantries. Lenna stayed back, letting Orla and Marlo have a moment of privacy with Orla’s cousin.
Dollin gave Orla a quick kiss on the cheek and squeezed her hand, motioning over to the ship with the yellow sails.
“We are leaving in about an hour. If you are ready to go, there is a gangway set up and the crates have just finished being loaded–there’s a bit of a line for people boarding, but tell the man stationed at the bottom there that I approved your travel.
” Dollin puffed up his chest. For him to have that type of pull, he must be one of the captain’s trusted mates.
Lenna felt relief wash over her–another man to keep an eye out for her wayward friends.
Another blessing.
Orla and Marlo exchanged a glance as Dollin strode off.
Marlo wordlessly handed Orla her pack and she slipped it over her shoulders, securing it to her body.
They both turned to Lenna. Orla opened her mouth to say something, but Lenna pulled her into a gentle hug.
“Take care,” Lenna said quietly. She clasped Orla between her outstretched arms and smiled tightly, before turning her attention to Marlo.
“Marlo,” Lenna choked, saying goodbye to her only friend in this town, “take care of her and take care of yourself. I am so proud of the man you have become, and thank you for being my friend.” Marlo looked close to tears, but he grabbed Lenna in a tight embrace, conveying the emotion that swam in his eyes.
She was shorter than him, her head reaching only to his chest, but Marlo curled his torso down until his body covered hers.
Lenna felt her throat constrict, as she realized just how important Marlo had become to her–the son she never had.
“Thank you, Lenna,” Marlo whispered, “I owe you a debt. Please come to Wilfur when you can.” Marlo squeezed Lenna one last time and let go, reaching over for Orla’s hand.
Lenna felt a couple stray tears spring from her eyes, and hastily wiped them away with a sniff.
Lenna stood with the horses as she watched Marlo guide Orla to the ship, watched as they boarded, as the gangway was raised, as the vessel began pulling away from the harbor, as the wind filled the sails, pulling into open sea.
Lenna stood there.
Watching until the ship, and the last friend she had in her life, disappeared into the horizon.