Saun 3, 708
Cycres, outside of Ne’Haer
"Let’s get what we’ve come for and get home." Traek spoke firmly to the two boys with him as they tied off the shipwright’s sloop at the docks, the man’s blue irises dark as he let his gaze linger on his eldest. His father made it clear he hadn’t forgotten his shenanigans of stealing ships and chasing pirates in Ymiden, "Both of you stick with me."
"Yeah, Pa’bo. At least remember to ask before you snatch something from someone else." Iyoas, Pash’s youngest brother, snickered. The little snot was just old enough to catch onto sarcasm, but still unable to wield it in a way that felt quite believable. He still had a mouth, though, and one that rivaled his older brother’s.
"Shu—"
"Don’t start, boys." Traek’s disapproving scowl was enough to silence the boys who, quite honestly, seemed to fight like cats and dogs any time the two of them were together. The shipwright had hoped that bringing them along would have been beneficial, but after the sail from Ne’haer, he already had his parental regrets, "Alright, let’s start fresh. What are we here for? List it for me, Iya."
"Uh." The youth, just a season older than ten arcs now, rubbed a hand across the back of his neck in thought, casting a sideways glance at Pash even as they all began to clamber over the railing of the sloop and onto the deck below, "Brassware for rigging. Glass floats. And, I don’t remember what else.”
"Pash?”
"Brassware. Glass floats. Three pulleys for that merchant ship that’s been sitting in dry dock for almost half a season." The older boy smirked, his maturing baritone bordering on the accusatory, "I think you should tell the smith where to shove his bellows and find a new one. There’s no reason to wait that long for three pulleys. He’s taking you for a ride, da’at."
Traek shook his head at his son’s impatience, the three of them making their way from the docks and into the small, rough-hewn town of Cycres after pausing to pay the harbormaster. The older Biqaj made a bit of small talk, if only because the man taking his dock taxes seemed a little on edge, the young human admitting there’d been threats of raids for trials. He grumbled on about Ne’haer’s lack of support again and while Pash’s father attempted to extricate them all from the conversation, they were all stuck there for several more bits, Iyoas picking his nose and Pash smacking the back of his head,
"Gross."
"Whatever."
"Thank you for the warning—" Their father was saying, sliding an extra coin in the man’s direction, which he immediately pocketed without even wasting time to glance around. Leading the two away with his calloused hands on their shoulders, Traek waited until their feet had traveled the cobblestone streets for several moments until he leaned closer to talk quietly with them, "—sounds as though there’s been some talk of trouble brewing again here in town. We’ve best get what we’ve come for and get home quickly, you hear me? No trouble."
"Aye, alright." Iyoas said quickly, his bright green eyes widening with swirls of amber in fear.
"What kind of trouble?" Pash perked up curiously, his lagoon blue eyes searching his father’s face without a hint of worry.
"The violent kind, son." Traek grumbled as if what he’d said was obvious. It had been, but the shipwright had no interest in giving more information than necessary to feed the boy’s insatiable hunger to know every detail,
"There’s been some bandits hitting ships further up river. Another reason that smith has struggled to finish our order, you see. Not everyone’s out to con me. There’s politics involved, I suppose."
"We can take a pirate or two. There’s some guards around, eh?" The eldest grinned, though the bravado that swelled like the tide in his chest washed over the shores of fear to allow those words out of his eager lips.
"I’m not here to fight pirates, just to do business. Come on, Pash, leave it alone and let’s get our supplies."
"Yeah, Pa’bo. At least remember to ask before you snatch something from someone else." Iyoas, Pash’s youngest brother, snickered. The little snot was just old enough to catch onto sarcasm, but still unable to wield it in a way that felt quite believable. He still had a mouth, though, and one that rivaled his older brother’s.
"Shu—"
"Don’t start, boys." Traek’s disapproving scowl was enough to silence the boys who, quite honestly, seemed to fight like cats and dogs any time the two of them were together. The shipwright had hoped that bringing them along would have been beneficial, but after the sail from Ne’haer, he already had his parental regrets, "Alright, let’s start fresh. What are we here for? List it for me, Iya."
"Uh." The youth, just a season older than ten arcs now, rubbed a hand across the back of his neck in thought, casting a sideways glance at Pash even as they all began to clamber over the railing of the sloop and onto the deck below, "Brassware for rigging. Glass floats. And, I don’t remember what else.”
"Pash?”
"Brassware. Glass floats. Three pulleys for that merchant ship that’s been sitting in dry dock for almost half a season." The older boy smirked, his maturing baritone bordering on the accusatory, "I think you should tell the smith where to shove his bellows and find a new one. There’s no reason to wait that long for three pulleys. He’s taking you for a ride, da’at."
Traek shook his head at his son’s impatience, the three of them making their way from the docks and into the small, rough-hewn town of Cycres after pausing to pay the harbormaster. The older Biqaj made a bit of small talk, if only because the man taking his dock taxes seemed a little on edge, the young human admitting there’d been threats of raids for trials. He grumbled on about Ne’haer’s lack of support again and while Pash’s father attempted to extricate them all from the conversation, they were all stuck there for several more bits, Iyoas picking his nose and Pash smacking the back of his head,
"Gross."
"Whatever."
"Thank you for the warning—" Their father was saying, sliding an extra coin in the man’s direction, which he immediately pocketed without even wasting time to glance around. Leading the two away with his calloused hands on their shoulders, Traek waited until their feet had traveled the cobblestone streets for several moments until he leaned closer to talk quietly with them, "—sounds as though there’s been some talk of trouble brewing again here in town. We’ve best get what we’ve come for and get home quickly, you hear me? No trouble."
"Aye, alright." Iyoas said quickly, his bright green eyes widening with swirls of amber in fear.
"What kind of trouble?" Pash perked up curiously, his lagoon blue eyes searching his father’s face without a hint of worry.
"The violent kind, son." Traek grumbled as if what he’d said was obvious. It had been, but the shipwright had no interest in giving more information than necessary to feed the boy’s insatiable hunger to know every detail,
"There’s been some bandits hitting ships further up river. Another reason that smith has struggled to finish our order, you see. Not everyone’s out to con me. There’s politics involved, I suppose."
"We can take a pirate or two. There’s some guards around, eh?" The eldest grinned, though the bravado that swelled like the tide in his chest washed over the shores of fear to allow those words out of his eager lips.
"I’m not here to fight pirates, just to do business. Come on, Pash, leave it alone and let’s get our supplies."