Judo continues to dwell on Feter’s story, along with its troubling talk of hate and violence, through to the next day, when the ship reaches port just before sundown and a hasty order to unload puts the crew hard to work. Neeta has disappeared already, predictably, and Judo wishes her the best as he huffs over the massive crates.
The growing twilight makes the job notably harder, and Judo looks with envy at the city’s torch-light a quarter-mile away. He’ll obey the captain’s orders no matter how many times he stumbles over this uneven pier, but does the man really have reason to see it done in the dark?
Actually, that’s a poor question. He most certainly does.
Feter has partnered with Judo for the hauling, and Judo wouldn’t mind finding a bit of resolution to yesterday’s bothersome story. “I’ve heard of Harotia,” he begins with a measured tone as they work. “Lots of fighting there, yes?”
“It’s been quiet in recent years,” Feter answers, with a low voice to discourage wandering ears. “But yes, the Harotian King Dondomac makes plenty of wars for himself.”
“And you swear revenge on him? Is that why the Kribbons live in fear?”
Feter shakes his head vigorously and nearly slips on the gangplank as he does. “That’s propaganda, Judo. Be careful with it. Dondomac entered the Kribbons’ homeland nearly half a decade ago, before the Brotherhood ever made its commitment, and he destroyed many Kribbon homes and killed many Kribbon families.”
It takes Judo a moment to process this. “That’s awful…. Why would he do that?”
“It’s simple. The Corlettans betrayed the Kribbons, and now they spill Kribbon blood to cover their guilt. The Kribbon Brotherhood looks after its people. They may dwell in a land far removed from Harotia, but you may still hear them styled the Meresian Brotherhood. That’s the realm which sits in the center of Harotia, and by justice, it ought to belong to the Kribbons. You can understand why that’s just, can’t you, Judo?”
“…I suppose.” Not really, actually. But if this king really is murdering a country of people, just to hide from his fathers’ offenses… awful. Judo can’t imagine it.
Hardly feeling better at all about Feter’s story, Judo decides to drop the subject and try to forget the whole thing. The two deliver another heavy crate to the doors of the pier-side warehouse, where dockworkers take over to move it into storage.
“That has to be the last of it,” one of the dockworkers complains to the sailors.
“Sorry, friend,” Judo answers. “Not even halfway. We’re giving up the whole load here and now.”
Judo and Feter head back to the ship and seek out their next crate. As they do, Feter offers a brighter tone as he says, “Where are you headed after your contract, Judo?”
“Home. The money will help my family… and there’s a girl I’ll want to see, too.”
Feter nods but says nothing more. They take another crate and start moving.
It’s Judo’s turn to back-step, so he doesn’t understand at first why Feter’s expression so suddenly turns dark as he looks toward the warehouse. But Feter eventually grows so troubled that he stops and drops the crate, muttering under his breath, so Judo turns to see what the matter is. He groans at the sight.
Without warning, a hurried mass of people have invaded the once-deserted pier. Some pour into the warehouse while others block the street both ways, shouting all the while at the dockhands and sailors to make way. Through the twilight, Judo thinks at first they must be a gang of thieves, but thieves don’t take to the streets with steel caps on their heads and spears in their hands. No, these men are official. So much for the captain’s assurances.
Soon enough, the armed men descend on the ship, and they force Judo and Feter back aboard. “Night watch – make way! The constable wishes to board!”
Judo never manages to distinguish the constable from the other guards. He has eyes only for the crates as the guards pry them open and spill their contents onto the deck. Now Judo gets his first look at the cargo he has helped to haul for the last half-month. Doskikfaylay, – brown-leaf, – a powerful intoxicant worth a luxury price here in Andonia. It’s been banned completely for two years now.
Tales from the Thornlands 