Episode 14

A Port

The day was cloudy, with a stiff sou’easter. Tortoise and Gecko were off-duty and stood at the prow as the Pegasus approached the Gate of Refuge. The huge, foaming waves dashed themselves against the towering black cliffs, fell away, then surged and dashed again.

The Gate was a natural arch, a short, high tunnel into the harbour that had been widened and chiselled until it provided safe passage for two large ships. The Gate of Refuge itself was two massive columns at the entrance that supported, or seemed to support, the slab of the lintel, which, like the rough square columns, was the same unadorned stone of the cliff-face, polished to a high sheen.

The ship’s course straightened out until it was dead running, and the crew dropped the jib and reefed the mainsail. At least, that’s what Tortoise thought they were doing. It had been a long stint at sea and the crew were ebullient with anticipation for shore leave and some sort of hot cider.

Soft shadow swept over the ship as it coasted neatly through the Gate and into the relative calm of the harbour.

“Wow!” Gecko glanced excitedly at Tortoise and this way and that, uncharacteristically lost for words. There admittedly wasn’t much else to say. The harbour was wide and deep, the black cliffs racing away from the Gate, arcing round and up to the crowded port at the north-western end. Embedded into the cliff: the snow-frosted, vertical city of Vår.

Tortoise looked back at the Gate of Terror. Flocks of seabirds were roosting on the cliff and their waste splashed down the face in white streaks. Like the Gate of Refuge, the Gate of Terror was carved thick and smooth from the cliff-face but, unlike it, was a ring perfectly round and of a piece, set inside another circle polished flat and covered in deeply recessed, intricately curving lines that immediately evoked the waves of the sea. Both circles, the relief and its embroidered outer edge, vanished into the water at the base of the cliff.

Now in calmer waters, the crew shook out the mainsail and the Pegasus proceeded at a slower pace towards the port, still some way off.

“Look!” Gecko cried. Off to starboard, a huge black-and-white fish crashed back into the water, and Tortoise could make out the shapes of several more porpoising through the waves. “Orcas!”

The fish were huge. Tortoise turned to Ibrahim, who had joined them as they passed through the Gate. “Are they…?”

“Awake?” The meerkat shrugged. “No one knows for sure—if they have a language, no one speaks it. The Vårosi protect them here, but they’re hunted down the coast.”

Another orca breached.

“Why are they jumping?”

“I dunno. They eat seals and pingüins, but I don’t see any. Sometimes they just jump.”

“Maybe they’re playing,” Tortoise said.

“Yeah, maybe,” Ibrahim said, gesturing to one of the pirates working nearby, who grinned and nodded. “My first ship was a whaler. I don’t miss it.”

“Why did you become a sailor?”

Ibrahim shrugged. “I was broke and it seemed like a good idea. They needed a rigging squirrel and it turned out I was good at it. Then I just kept doing it.”

Another orca breached.

The city was getting closer now, and Tortoise could make out the general shape of it. There were a few larger buildings, but the vast bulk were squat and regular, with flat, snow-covered roofs, many of them with a single bare tree. All of the buildings were made of the same black stone of the cliffs. The austerity of it all was tempered by bright pennants strung between the houses, flapping in the wind, and lights blazing in the streets and windows. Here and there were large gates shaped like the Gate of Refuge, though on a much smaller scale.

The cliffs rose steeply, and the city buildings dwindled into little precarious peaks, with zigzagging lines reaching up to the top. Off to the left on high, a magnificent domed palace perched above a frozen waterfall that plunged straight to the sea; to the right, another frozen waterfall stepped its way slowly down and around the cliff until it reached the harbour, marking out something of a boundary for the extensive docks, which were mostly to the right of the city centre.

“This is from Molly,” Gecko said, returning to the bow from wherever he’d been. He passed Tortoise a small purse filled with coin. “Wages. She said to say it’ll be more than enough for a few days, provided you don’t drink too much cider.”

“Alright,” Tortoise said. “Thanks.”

“And remember: if anyone asks—”

“I’m a merchant seaman. I know.”

“Okay, okay. Also: I’m going to go on ahead and do some exploring, but I’ll meet you there later tonight. The others know the way.”

“Shouldn’t we stick together? How are you going to find the place on your own?”

“I’ll ask around. It’s fine, don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Just stick with the others and you won’t get lost.”

Tortoise wasn’t convinced, but he knew by now there wasn’t much point arguing with Gecko, at least not straight away. “Alright.”

Gecko looked a little surprised. “Okay.” And he darted off before Tortoise could say another word.

Next episode: Vår