The subject, or the protagonist, of a story, is often referred to as being the character subjected to the story. And the story gives them an arc to play out, a journey to undergo. However, we create stories in our lives with ourselves as protagonists, and we interact with hundreds of other stories going on at the same time – those of other people. A story of fiction then, that we may ground ourselves in, also takes in this level of interaction and merging together. This means that we may find a number of protagonists to the stories we tell. Know then that an antagonist (a person or force who represents a direct contradiction to the success of a story) in one story is still the protagonist of his own story and deserves no less or no more respect than any and all other characters’ own stories.

Alistair Movren
An analysis of myths and legends
 

VIII

September, 2E.1048; somewhere in the Great Channel of the new world.
The sea made the boat rock terribly. Or rather, the sea made the ship rock terribly: using the word ship, not boat, Manuss knew made a big difference to some people. Some people claimed ships were beautiful women, others claimed you could fit a boat in a ship, but not a ship in a boat and yet others, actually Manuss tried not to think about any more people with their different reasons for just about everything.
He had never liked sea sickness, and it was clear that young Caterina did not like it either. Each time a wave hit the ship she cried her head off. Every so often It got so bad that Manuss had to hide his head under a pillow for all the screaming.
Fortunately the worst that the storm could through at the ship had blown over some hours ago. A couple of empty barrels on deck had been blown overboard, the rain was forcing Lentz to bucket out excess water from the deck and up in the mast Rommun had, somehow, been able to successfully hold his lunch in.
Manuss stayed on the floor for some time, lying on his front and still holding the pillow over his head. He was thinking of taking a nap under the pretence that nobody would bother to need him for something right now when he something from far off: a shout.
“Land ho! On the starboard bow, about a league off.” It was Romunn. Hassan had told him to stay up in the mast all day, having hoped they might arrive at their destination later today. The weather had been so terrible since dawn that he could not see anything at the helm, but up in the mast Rommun could.
Manuss sighed; so much for his nap. If they weren’t so close to land he would have been able to get away with it but if they were instead going to make port there was no point him being asleep in an out of the way cabin.
“I see smoke rising from chimneypots Hassan, and a port with over a dozen jetties: this has to be Ballon!”
“Alright, keep your bloody pants on Rommun. Felde, Rolunn, stop puking over the sides and take us down to half sails. I’ll bring us in nice and easy. And when you’ve done that go find Manuss and tell him we’ve arrived.”
Manuss cursed again, loudly this time. He threw the pillow across the room and rolled over onto his back. He lay there for a few seconds staring at the cot. Caterina held one of the bars with her left hand and was staring at Manuss. She was sucking the thumb of her right hand.
“Sorry for swearing” Manuss said before proceeding to sit up. He rubbed the back of his neck and then, eventually, he stood all the way up and left the room. Caterina continued to suck her thumb. Slowly the boat began to rock less and less. Eventually Caterina lied down on her blanket and fell to sleep, but Manuss was already on his way up to the deck to notice.
Walking through the crew’s quarters he found Zainsurra and Bron playing a game of cards. Zainsurra looked up when he saw him.
“Felde’s looking for you” Manuss just walked past. “He thought he might find you in the kitchen. I don’t know if it’s important but I thought I’d tell you.”
“We’re about to land, I heard Hassan tell everyone on deck from Caterina’s cabin.” With that he opened the door and stepped out onto the wet deck. It was no longer raining and the wind had died down somewhat but the clouds looked just as bad as ever and there was a distinct smell of sick coming from a bucket attached to a rope halfway up the mast.
“We’ll be docking in about five minutes Manuss.” Manuss turned to face Hassan who was stood at the wheel, concentrating his attention onto carefully sailing into port. “Do you mind dropping the starboard anchor for me when he get into port?”
There were two anchors on the ship. Each anchor was located at the rear of the ship, on the port side and one on the starboard. Port being the left hand side from the man at the helm and starboard being the right. Each anchor was made out of steel in the traditional two pronged backwards facing trident sort of shape and remained connected to the ship by an iron chain, each link as big as a man’s thigh, and just as wide too. The chain wrapped around a thick reinforced steel pole which hung out over the water at an angle from the ship. The iron chains were wrapped so well around each pole that neither anchor touched the water until released, a rare luxury amongst the technology of current ships. A winch was connected to the pole which, if pushed, rotated the pole at a great speed, dropping the anchor into the water. Once the anchor was in the water, the water itself normally dragged it further down. Normally it took about fifteen seconds for the anchor to hit the seabed and thirty seconds for the ship to come to a complete stop. Winching the anchor back up to the surface however took a lot longer. Though one man could pull the winch it often took two men over half a dozen minutes to winch the anchor back up completely. Normally these men were Felde Grana and Rolunn Pellinor.
Hassan’s brother Lentz was across the far end of the deck, reaching out over towards a coil of rope wrapped around the ships head: a naked lady. As the anchor slowed the ship down the rope would be thrown across to a team of trained dock-workers who would pull the ship the last few metres, right into the jetty to make disembarking as easy as possible.
“So this is Ballon” Hassan said suddenly, taking Manuss by surprise. “Ever been here before?”
“No” Manuss replied. “Though I hear there’s a great tavern along the quay: ‘The fish out of the water’ or some such. What say we try it out? Shall we see if you can still drink me under the table?” Hassan chuckled and then something caught his eye. It looked as if a group of dock-workers were coming out of a small building off to one side of the quay. They were pointing towards a particular jetty, which Hassan made towards.
“I don’t suppose the port officials were expecting our arrival today or there’d be a much bigger party than the one they’ve sent out. You know, the sort with ribbons above the streets, music playing from the alleys and peddlers selling as much cake as they can.” It was at this moment that Felde came back on deck.
“Hassan, I couldn’t find Manuss anywhere…” he realised Manuss was on deck and shut his mouth.
“Felde, go into my cabin. There’s a chest up against the wall. It’s filled with money. Bring me a bag of gold and silver ducats, I believe that’s what they use here.” Felde headed back inside. Manuss turned back to his conversation with Hassan. “That should deal with the port authorities.”
Those on deck could now hear the dock-workers’ shouting over the crash of the waves. Manuss released the anchor and Lentz threw the rope across the jetty. Both men headed across the dock to the helm.
“As soon as we escape those customs officers myself and Hassan are up to the pub. Are you going to join us Lentz?” Lentz laughed and said he would happily have a drink or two. Around the deck more movement was happening. Rommun was making his climb down from the crow’s nest high up in the mast and Rolunn was dragging a gangplank out from underneath some tarpaulin on the side of the ship. Zainsurra and Bron had just emerged from the ship. Zainsurra was putting his putting of cards into a bag to his side and Bron made his way over to help Rolunn with the gangplank. Felde returned to the deck again and gave Manuss his money. And then, a few seconds later Zainsurra and Lentz were taking the sails all the way down and finally, precisely five minutes after Hassan had told Manuss when they were going to be docked, the ship was docked. The gangplank was out and everyone was waiting to get off. They just had to escape a broad shouldered and overweight man in flamboyant clothes with a clipboard in one hand.
“Who is the captain of this ship?” the customs officer spoke in an accent which told Manuss that he thought he was better than everyone else. Manuss walked over to him. “I’m terribly sorry dear captain but your ship is not on my list for expected rivals here in Ballon either for today or this whole week.”
“My ship has been damaged by storms and we have lost much of our provisions. We will not be here long, just enough time to make repairs and replenish.”
“I understand your cause for making port here in Ballon but this is most unorthodox. While we are fortunately not expecting any other arrivals here for some time this is most irregular. It will have to be recorded, the count notified, the barons and guilds alerted and so on and so on.”
“Will one hundred ducats help with your expenses?”
“Quite. Enjoy your stay in Ballon.” Manuss sighed: “every time with the money. I wonder if there’s ever been a customs officer or port official who was corrupt to the bone.”
“Alright lads. Let’s get on shore. The plan is still the same: we split up and go our different ways here. I hope nobody’s told one another where your each going but, before we head off in one hundred and one directions later tonight, let’s drink to the end of this endeavour.”
*
The group stayed in the tavern until late. Everyone drank to the health of everyone else, except Caterina who Manuss wouldn’t leave alone on the ship. The drinking was helped by the tavern’s own rice vodka: fermented in a huge wooden vat placed on the flat roof of the tavern and transported down in barrels whenever the landlord thought it was good enough quality. One by one however the group started to bid their farewells to the rest and head out into the night.
Felde and Rommun were the first to leave. They left together and Manuss suspected they were both going to the same place. Of course he’d told them not to do that but after a couple of rounds of rice vodka he wasn’t going to bring it up. At least he didn’t know where they were going. About half an hour later Rommun’s brother Rolunn stood up and said his goodbye’s to the group. Some time later Bron also left, by now Manuss wasn’t sure how many rounds of liquor he’d been through but he knew it was a lot. He gave Bron his best wishes and went to take a piss.
As he was coming back from the outhouse he saw Lentz Allarror talking in deep conversation with Zainsurra. He made a bet with himself that the two men had also told each other where they were going. As it turned out, he was right.
“Manuss, Hassan” Lentz began. “I want to take the ship if the two of you don’t mind. And Zainsurra wants to come with me, at least as far as he wants me to take him. I know I haven’t had time on the helm but I’ve watched both of you at the wheel and I think between myself and Zainsurra we can take her out of the quay.” Manuss looked at Hassan, he’d been hoping he would take the ship instead.
“That’s fine” Hassan said. I can get where I want to by road just as easy as I can by sea. As long as Manuss is okay with it, take her. But watch out, she’s  a fast ship and those sails of hers can often take you by surprise.”
“It’s fine by me too.” Manuss said a few seconds later.
“Really!” Lentz replied. “I thought you’d be harder to persuade than this. Okay Zainsurra, we’ve got a ship. Thanks Manuss, thanks big brother.” And then the two of them left, heading out into the night to lift the anchor of Y Llong Du: ‘the black ship’.
And then it was just Hassan and Manuss left in the tavern. They both stopped drinking, instead trying to find ways to prolong the wait until they too would have to part ways. Hassan ran his finger very slowly around the top of the glass whilst Manuss lifted the glass up to his eyes and stared at it for a very long time.
“I know I said not to tell each other where we’re going but what the hell: everyone else already seems to have done so” Manuss said. “That money in the chest – I took it out before we came in here. I bought a small ship whilst no-one was looking: she’s called the Mary-Anne. I want to hire a small crew and sail, just sail. The must be more to the world than the Vimé empire and the new world. Ha! We’ve called it the ‘new world’ for the last century at least. There must be actual new lands out there somewhere. What about you? Or are you the only one actually noble enough not to tell anyone where you’re going?”
“Rolunn and Bron didn’t tell anyone where they were going, and those who did tell others only did it because they guessed they’d want to go to the right places. And as it turns out they’re right. As for me… I think I’ll go south of here, to Léo. Don’t know what I’ll do though. I’ll probably end up just drinking people under the table.”
Manuss laughed. “When you’ve certainly got me beat my friend. Though we both know you can do better than that. You gave the ship away to Lentz. At least allow me to give Caterina away to you.”
Hassan blinked once, twice, then a third time before looking up into Manuss’s eyes. Despite spending the vast majority of his time with Caterina, who had clearly taken a liking to him, Hassan knew Manuss meant it.
“Why?” Hassan said. “You love that girl as if you were Gimignano yourself. And she clearly loves you.”
“That’s exactly why Hassan. Every time I look at that child I see her sweet blue eyes, her happy smile and a long, good life ahead of her. And then I see Gimignano in her, haplessly in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’s surely already been executed for Victor Francisco’s death. Then I see her mother, Caterina, who killed herself over this kidnapping. I was best man at their wedding Hassan and I see both of them in her. I can’t be a father to this child.”
“And neither can I. You were Gimignano’s best man and I was his head usher. We both feel the loss, but saying it like that only makes us look pathetic. You’re better than that. We’re better than that, and she needs a father who’s stronger than that.”
“That’s why it has to be you Hassan. You’re the one preaching about strength and how to go about with that sort of strength. But I just don’t have that and even by talking like this you’re doing better than I’ve been able to be yet. Now, let’s not argue over this anymore. I’m going to need another round.”
*
 The black ship slowly and silently crept along the cliffs under the cover of the moon. Lentz and Zainsurra were both on deck in this early hour, Lentz at the wheel of the ship and Zainsurra keeping him company, leaning over the side of the ship and talking casually about the first thing to come to his mind.
After the storm the ship had passed through on the way to Ballon Lentz had decided to stick to shallower water, and closer to safety. Although the weather seemed calmed right now he didn’t want to take his chances on his first outing as a ship captain.
Only flying half of its sails, the ship was slower than at full speed, but more manoeuvrable, which Lentz preferred as, in the shadow of the cliffs, rocky outcrops and small islets of sand were numerous. It was as Lentz carefully sailed the ship between two such islets that, around the bend of the coast, another ship emerged from the next bay, moving quite slowly in the water.
Lentz cursed and turned the wheel heavily to avoid the oncoming ship, which was just as large as Y Llong Du was. The captain of the other ship also span the wheel of his ship and both vessels miraculously were able to continue without smashing into each other.
Lentz could not make out the name of the other ship, nor the colours it was flying. He only saw that it had a unicorn as its figurehead and that it was a military vessel. Four large ballista were mounted onto the deck, two on each side of the ship and, though most of the men were asleep at this late hour, both immortals noticed that they were all armed.
“I wonder where they’re going to, armed such as they are” Zainsurra said casually as he watched the ship sail off behind them. Lentz merely shrugged and turned their own ship into the cove from which the vessel had come from.
Across the water, on the other ship, the captain and his quartermaster were talking amongst themselves quietly. The quartermaster was speaking.
“I’m sure that was them: brig level ship, black sails, mounted ballistae, even a naked lady figurehead.”
“Do you have any idea how many ships have black sails and naked ladies lieutenant? If we went chasing after each one in our path … well maybe I’ve worded myself a bit ‘off’ here but it’s late and I’m under strict orders not to give chase to our quarry unless we see the name of our prey.”
“But … but”
“Stop saying ‘but’ every time you don’t like what I say. Orders are orders. Now, unless you saw the name of the ship, can we go our own way again?” A sailor was making his way up one of the two flights of side stairs leading to the wheel. The captain looked at him. “Yes?”
“Begging your pardon cap’n but that ship bore the name ‘Y Llong Du’. I’ve been speaking to some of the boys and we’re sure that’s the one.”
The captain’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Lieutenant, make sure the ballistae are prepped, we’re turning around to chase that ship. I want as many crossbows out on deck at the double as well. We can’t let them escape!”
About a minute after Lentz had turned into the small cove Zainsurra spotted the other ship again, behind them and saw that it was coming in fast. He also saw its colours for the first time.
“Lentz!” Zainsurra shouted “Imperial bounty hunters! I see the flag: a sceptre and knout, over the symbol for the imperial florin!” Lentz turned around and realised the horrible truth.
“How long can it take you to get all this things sails up?” Lentz asked. He feared what the answer would be before Zainsurra told.
“Too long, they’ll be on us in a flash!”
Lentz cursed and looked around. After a moment he saw a thin cobbled beach which ran along a line of trees. He turned and looked back at the chasing ship. He would have to take the risk.
“Zainsurra, I’m landing on that beach over there. Get under deck and bring out some crossbows! We’re going to have to run for it!” Zainsurra sprinted under deck.
When Zainsurra re-emerged from under the deck no more than a minute later he was holding two loaded light crossbows, a full quiver of bolts and, wrapped up in a cotton blank, Lentz’s steel long sword. The ship was about halfway towards the beach but the chasing vessel was gaining fast and was almost in range of arbalesters. Zainsurra immediately dropped everything to the floor save for one of the crossbows and took an unlikely shot at the chasing ship.
“No!” Lentz yelled. “We’re going to jump ashore and get into those trees, then we can use the crossbows to keep them at bay!”
“Lentz, that’s a brig, there must be over two dozen men on that. We’re only two. How the hell do you think we’re getting away from this?” The ship landed on the beach.
“Run, now!” Lentz yelled. “If we’re in the trees they won’t fire their ballistae, they’ll have to send men ashore to deal with us. It’s our only chance!” Lentz dropped down and grabbed one of the two crossbows and his sword. Zainsurra took the other and the quiver full of bolts.
They both ran for their lives, jumping off the side of the ship at full pace, Lentz without even breaking a stride. Lentz had positioned the ship so that it was almost parallel with the line of the beach. It was much but it gave them slight cover as the first volley of crossbow was fired, either landing on the deck of the ship or flying over the heads of the two men, barraging the cobbled beach. After the first volley Lentz guessed they had somewhere between eight to ten seconds to reach the cover of the trees or they’d be cut down by the second volley.
The two men had landed in the water just off the beach. They swiftly picked themselves up and hurled themselves headlong for the line of trees. They only just made it. Zainsurra was a faster runner than Lentz and made it easily but Lentz dived into cover just as the second volley hit the trees.
Zainsurra peered out from behind one of the branches of the ash tree he was hiding behind. Maybe, as late at night as it was, the bounty hunters would think they’d got their targets, wait around for a few minutes, then sail off. Of course, that wasn’t the case.
“Lieutenant!” the captain of the ship yelled. “They’ve abandoned ship. Take seven men and row ashore. I can’t see any way out for them. Draw them out and kill them. There may only be two of them but take care. Others might still be under deck. The rest of you lads, board their ship make sure there are only those two vagabonds around!” Zainsurra and Lentz could hear the captains’ orders from as far away as they were. They took deep breaths and Lentz could see Zainsurra clutching the trigger of his crossbow closely.
*
The cart bobbled along slowly in the midday heat of the blinding sun. The horse, or rather a pony, which pulled the cart was a sturdy mare with a grey coat. Hassan heard it coming from some distance off and was expecting it to just pass him by. He was surprised then when the carriage did not pass him, instead slowing down almost to a halt behind him as he walked.
Hassan decided to take a look at the carriage and turned around. Walking backwards he was able to satisfy his curiosity.
The wagon belonged to a travelling merchant, who sat at the front. His goods were in the back, covered by a blanket as was the custom, albeit badly: Hassan could see whole reams of expensive cottons, silks and even a little cashmere. The merchant also got a good look at Hassan.
He had made a makeshift sling out of some bed sheets taken from an inn in Ballon. Wrapped around his right hand shoulder it dropped down to his waist. Caterina was nestled inside.
“The coastal road only goes to Léo. Want a ride?” Hassan nodded. The merchant shuffled across on the wooden beam at the front end of the cart. Hassan sat down next to the man and the cart started once more to trundle its way down the highway.
“I always like having company when I’m on the road” the merchant decided to introduce himself. “I’m Gian Regaino, independent merchant of Léo”
“Hassan of house Allarror. Wait, did you say you’re an independent merchant? You’re not with a merchants guild?”
“I was with the guild of Gwidon, situated on lake Gwidon, but I’m a citizen of Léo. I don’t know how much you know of economics but recently the Gwidon guild has raised the taxes on all goods imported from the western coast.”
“So? If you’re with the guild that shouldn’t worry you one bit right?”
“Wrong. All applications for the guild of Gwidon are put through the feudal lords of merchant’s hometowns. In retaliation for exorbitant taxes the said lords all the way from Pérro to Léo have cancelled all guild renewals forthwith.” Hassan looked over at his travelling companion sympathetically.
“So you’re out of your job then?” The merchant nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that, I don’t know what to say.”
“Ah, don’t say anything then. Besides, it’s not too bad. My lord, Count Cirril of Léo has been in constant discussion with the dukes of Ballon and Pérro. From what I hear, I would put good money on our three countries getting exclusive trade agreements with each other. And that means Cirril needs someone to overlook these trading rights. I’ve saved up enough capital over the years to buy a little warehouse, if I sell my horse and cart who knows, maybe even a small schooner and a crew. My leaving the guild may yet turn out to be a good thing.”
The road reached the far end of the bay and turned inland again as it started to follow the path of the next cove along the coast. In the middle of the cove a small cobbled beach ran along the coast. A line of trees stood at the bottom of the cliff running parallel with the cove.
“Hello” Gian said when he looked down into the cove. “I wonder what’s gone on down there.”
Hassan looked down towards the beach. There was a ship moored up against the cobbled beach, or more of a crash landing as it looked. It was Y Llong Du.
“I know that ship” he said without thinking. “It’s my brother’s.”
“I hope you don’t me saying this but something feels wrong, just looking at that ship. I get a shiver down my spine.”
“Gian, I can see a way down the cliffs, can you drop me off. If something’s happened then I need to know if my brother’s okay.” Gian looked across worryingly. “We can pay you: the ship’s full of cargo: cotton and rum from the Vimé empire. Must be worth a pretty penny.”
“Don’t worry, I can you get down there, I think my cart can just fit down that path you’re pointing out. And don’t worry about paying me, I know how important family is.” The cart turned the bend and slowly made its way down a steep path. So far neither Gian nor Hassan had not seen a single soul then, as the path began to level out, Hassan suddenly saw a man face down in the underbrush of the trees. A crossbow bolt protruded out from his back at an awkward angle.
“Stay here” Hassan told Gian in a firm voice and jumped out of his seat and slowly walked along over to the dead man.
“Gah, what’s that foul smell?” Hassan heard Gian say. He suddenly noticed the smell. It was foul.
“Dead bodies. We … void our bowels when we die. It’s not nice; if it’s any help try not to think about it alright.” Gian raised a handkerchief over his nose. Hassan realised Gian had the right idea and lifted his shirt up so he wouldn’t breath in the smell. Caterina moved awkwardly in the makeshift sling but stayed asleep.
Using the tip of his boot Hassan lifted the dead body up and rolled it over. The bolt stuck in the man’s back cracked under the weight of the body. Hassan wondered who the man was, where he’d come from, if he had any family. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw what he’d feared.
Two bodies dangled from the high branches of a large tree, swinging this way and that in the cool breeze. The first was Zainsurra’s. A long sword was embedded in his chest. Hassan recognised it as his brother Lentz’s. A large bruise was visible across the side of his face. He conjectured that Zainsurra had been knocked out by his attacker, strung up and then, as he dangled from the tree, stabbed with the sword. Hassan’s blood boiled and then he took in the second body: that of his brother Lentz. Lentz had also been knocked out but instead of being stabbed through with a sword it looked as if he’d been shot to death by a firing squad. He counted fourteen bolts in his brother’s body and there was a distinct blood red wound seeping out from his trousers. A bag had been thrust into his mouth forcefully. It didn’t take much to guess what was inside it.
Hassan just stood there, fuming and cursing the bastards who had murdered Lentz so cruelly.
He heard sounds of activity back along the coast, back by Gian Regaino and his wagon. He span around. An armed man, coughing and wheezing from a wound to his abdomen, stepped out of the bushes with a cruel, curved hunting knife in his grasp. “Give me the pony!” the man rasped. Gian froze in fear, staring at the cold hearted man. “Give me the pony!” he said again. The man looked over towards Hassan who had put the sling with Caterina in to the floor, drew Lentz’s sword out of Zainsurra’s dangling corpse and, with murderous intent in his eyes, was storming his way.
When Gian would not answer the unknown man became angry and raised his hunting knife up as if to bring it crashing down on Gian’s skull from above. Gian was saved by the pony who skittishly reared up at the sight of the knife. Still frozen, Gian collapsed and tumbled over into the ground on the other side of the cart from his attacker. The knife fell downwards, cutting across the pony’s neck, leaving a long red line in its body. The animal shrieked and fell to the floor, still coupled with the cart behind it.
Gian suddenly regained control over his body and used his hands and arms to push him backwards at terrific speed. The assailant turned on the spot as Hassan came close enough to be within sword’s reach. The man lunged out at Hassan in a wide attack, he was wounded however and moved slowly. Hassan stepped inside the attack and slashed downwards with his sword cutting into the forearm of his attacker with the very tip of his blood. Blood spurted everywhere and the man dropped his knees, releasing his blade as he fell. Hassan stepped behind the man in a flash, dropping his sword down to the man’s neck. Pulling the blade backwards across his neck and pushing the man’s body forwards at the same time Hassan killed him in a single stroke, eyes still ablaze with fury after the man’s death.
As instantly as the man collapsed to the ground Hassan pushed him over and began to search his body. He was wearing only a thin leather tunic with no coat of arms: Privateer thought Hassan. He found nothing on the body. Angered, he stood up and then remembered the first body.
Upon searching the first body Hassan found a single strip of parchment folded up underneath the man’s tunic which, again, was without a coat of arms. The parchment looked to be from a diary of some sorts. They was only one entry. It was clear the man did not know how to write very well.

Septmber; been a long old year and am gonna need sum money to survive winter. Thinking of joinin’ up with those bounty hunters that came through the other day. Heard they’re after the guys who killed the emperor and are lookin’ for recruits. I reckon whoever gets their heads won’t have to want for nothin’ again, ever. They said their ship would remain docked in port for only the next few days: Il Bellisima Marietta they called it.

Gian was just getting his breath back as Hassan finished reading. Il Bellisima Marietta he thought. When I catch up with these bounty hunters there’ll be hell to pay!
“My pony!” Gian yelled, stirring Hassan from his thoughts. “The bastard! The bastard killed it like … like a bastard!” Hassan walked over to the clearly shocked Gian and helped him to stand up.
“I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have dragged you down here with me” Hassan said.
“How am I supposed to get back to Léo now, and with all my goods intact too? The world’s going to pot I tell you, brigands and wolves roam the roads, pirates and sharks the seas, all we need now are a pack of rabid vultures and there won’t be any hope left for mankind.”
“Or the carcasses of man for that matter” Hassan finished. “Can you walk Gian?” Gian took a few cautious paces.
“I can make it up to you Gian. I found my brother, killed by these scum along with an old friend of mine. Fortunately it looks like the ship itself is still in good shape. Load your things into a basket and we can drag it all on board. The privateers who did this must be a long way off by now. We should be able to get to Léo a lot faster as well by boat. I’m sorry. I’d like here as well now. As fast as we can if you please.”
*
Hassan’s mind was still on the previous day’s events. Today he was once more at the helm of Y Llong Du and, alongside his newfound friend Gian, was only a few minutes out of the port town of Léo. He stood at the wheel, with Gian looking out across the bow of the ship next to him. Caterina was asleep below deck.
Two large walls made from hewn rock rose up out of the depths of the sea, one on either side of the port. Between the ends of the two walls was a narrow gap which only ship could fit through at a time. This funnelled traffic in and out of the port. Two large ballistae flanked the entrance as a security measure as well and, next to one of the ballista’s stood a tall tower with a pyre at its top. Slowly, Hassan sailed the ship in-between the rock walls and marvelled at the site of the town that greeted him. He knew it was only a small town, its population maybe only two thousand inhabitants at the most, but it was incredibly compact.
Léo was built on the side of a hill, with a large outer wall separating it from forests which entirely surrounded the town on land. At the bottom level was the quay, where most, if not all, of the town’s business happened. It was one of the largest ports Hassan had ever seen, second only to Vimé in fact. He counted over a dozen long jetties and, to one side, a small district had put aside for private warehouses. Along the seafront, like all coastal towns, travellers’ market stalls were set up amidst larger shops, taverns, there was even a blacksmith’s shop and two smokehouses right next to each other. And, of course, bustling crowds. Though the smell of the seafront was often considered rancid in many larger cities, like Vimé or Rossa, in smaller towns like here it was quite acceptable to breath in the smelly sea air. Behind the Seafront Hassan saw the residential districts. He saw the many lined up slate roofs of terraced houses moving up the hill. He spied a tall spire which he guessed was the church of the imperial doctrine and then there was a big fat building which could only be a court house. And there, right at the back of the town and right at the top of the hill, stood castle Léo: a large rectangular castle with circular towers at each corner. On top of that there had been dozens of renovations to the castle over the years and by now Hassan could see a total of seventeen towers lining the parapets, both circular and square. The town guard, he knew, would be garrisoned in several of those such towers, close by Count Cirril who ruled from the castles throne room. Gian saw that Hassan was amazed by what he saw.
“This your first time in Léo?” Hassan nodded.
“It looks fantastic” he replied.
“Well then, I’m glad you like it. Ah, it looks like the dock workers are beckoning us over to one of the jetties.”
“Do you want to the throw a rope over to them? As we’re not expected I’ll count out a bribe for the customs officer.”
“Nonsense!” Gian said. “You’re with me, no customs officer here in Léo will dare ask for a bribe if I’m on the ship. I sent a raven here ahead of me outlining my intent. With a bit of luck one of the bankers here will have already bought half of those warehouses you see there on my behalf.”
Hassan looked around. He was hoping to spot the ship Il Bellisima Marietta but it wasn’t docked here in Léo. He hadn’t told Gian the truth the day before. Whilst he knew the ship was a bounty hunting vessel he had told Gian that they were only privateers. He thought to himself for a moment. He would have to change the ship’s name while he was here to something else, in case he bump into them himself. Maybe The Naked Lady, everybody he met seemed to pick up on the figurehead anyway – it was the first thing Gian commented on after getting on board in fact. After that he decided that he should maybe look for a job, he was supposed to be incognito after all.
“Gian” he said. “If you do start your business you’ve got the exclusive trade rights, you’ve got the warehouses to store your stock, but you don’t have your cart anymore, nor a ship. Would you be interested in hiring me?”
“You’d need a crew but yes, I would love to have a ship like this in a trade fleet: fast, good hull, even got some ballista protection. Are you offering your services to me?” Hassan chuckled.
“I’m sure I can get a crew together. Those privateers took all of the cotton and rum from the hull but they couldn’t find the goods stashed away in the secret compartment of the captain’s cabin: quality cotton from Vimé, should go for two hundred ducats at least.”
 “No” Gian replied. “If it’s from Vimé it won’t be worth squat. The independence treaty forbade all trade with the empire, by order of the five kings and all the other lords in the new world.”
“Then how are we to fund a crew of sailors?”
“We put the cotton in one of the warehouses, and then during the night put a fire in it. I made sure to take out insurance on the warehouses when I sent Count Cirril my offer. If the boxes go up in flames the authorities will never know where they came from and we can claim over five hundred ducats. It will have to be done carefully so the whole warehouse does not collapse but a bit of insurance fraud would not be amiss here.” Hassan looked across at Gian, who only continued his lesson of how to make money.
“Should you be okay with this you’ll do well in the world of business and economics. And keep the rum in the secret container, instead of burning that we’ll drink it. Hell, I’d even make a toast to the start of a business venture with it.”
“In that case” Hasan eventually replied. “I will accept your toast, to the betterment of the Regaino trading company, led by Gian Regaino, with The Naked Lady as its flagship, captained by Hassan Allarror.”