Chapter 63

After another week of travel Bastian determined that it had been nearly a month since the coup. It aggravated him and his hands itched to slay something.

But instead they itched his growing beard. The flower had had a point in the fact that growing a bread might dissuade people from assuming he's the Sovereign. 'But I am the Sovereign.' The voice in his head would nag.

They had now reached the Kuratuma Pass, it was the small estuary that let Lake Kuratuma meet the Cadaraman Sea. It was also the border between Wanington and Waxingville.

Once they crossed this they were that much closer to Viskogorny, where they would hopefully receive the help they needed.

Their current dilemma though was that they needed to service another ferry.

The trio now sat in the jungle, the night air clinging to them as they sought warmth from the fire, plotting their escape from Waxingville.

"We could sell a sword of yours." The flower said determinedly for the sixth time.

"No. If we do we lose a weapon and arouse suspicion." He said firmly for the sixth time.

Brigitte tended to the fire as the two rightful rulers of Cadarama argued over the same topic repeatedly. She smiled when a thought came into her mind of the fact that they were acting like her parents used to before her mother died.

"What if we snuck in and seized one of the small dinghy boats?" Bastian voiced, watching the fire thoughtfully.

"Hmm, but what about the horses?" Hydrangea reasoned.

Bastian looked up at her, her pale skin was tinted orange in the firelight and her raven locks held back in a bun a few stray strands coming down to frame her face. Her grey eyes were clouded with thinking and he found his heart did something. It was a strange feeling and not necessarily one that he trusted. She was so determined to get across the pass.

"If we sell the horses then we could afford to buy one of those ferries." He said matter-of-factly.

"We are not. Selling those horses." She said, her grey eyes snapping to look at him fiercely.

"Why not? They've had a good run, and we can use the money to buy more in Wanington." He said.

Her eyes turned conflicted as she stared at the fire.

Hydrangea fought the truth; he was right. They couldn't cross the pass with the mares.

Looking at Brigitte she could see that her maid agreed with the Sovereign.

Sighing sadly she rose and hugged both horses, Helle a little longer, she'd grown to love this horse. She was such a gentle creature.

Closing her welling eyes she turned to face the fire and the other two, "Very well."

Waking the next morning they covered the signs of the fire and their tracks. Packing the remaining supplies they hauled them on their shoulders and led the horses to the docks.

Hydrangea stroked Helle's mane gently as the trio's eyes scanned the docks for a place to trade or sell.

"There." The Sovereign said and began to walk in the direction of an aged lady sitting on a stool, crates before her covered in coins and other valuables. Nearing the lady Hydrangea noticed a bird in a cage next to her.

"I'll give you fifty." She said before any of them had a chance to speak.

"Oh, fifty for each horse or for…" Hydrangea began to ask but the lady spoke, her voice harsh with age.

"No, not for the horses, for him." The lady pointed her bony finger at the Sovereign. Hydrangea's heart felt pricked by something and a frown came upon her face.

"Whereas I'm flattered, madam." The Sovereign said placing his hands on a crate and leaning towards the lady, Hydrangea's frown deepened, "I'm afraid that we're only looking to sell these fine mares." The Sovereign finished, his voice ever-charming.

The aged lady giggled and gave them one hundred for each horse.

Hydrangea's heart felt heavy as she said goodbye to her beloved mare.

Brigitte hugged her mare goodbye sadly and then stood next to the Sovereign as she waited for the young Queen to finish with her goodbyes.

"Goodbye girl, you were a loyal mare and I thank you for everything you went through for us." Helle nuzzled her neck and Hydrangea laughed sadly, "I know Hellebore, I know… I'll miss you too."

"Hydie, hurry it up." The Sovereign said and Hydrangea, giving her mare one last hug, walked to where the Sovereign and Brigitte were standing.

"Shall we purchase a boat with our newfound wealth?" The Sovereign asked cheerily.

"I suppose we should." Hydrangea answered morosely.

"Excellent!" He walked forward blending in perfectly with the sailors milling about with his boots and attire. Hydrangea and Brigitte walked closely behind not wanting to lose the Sovereign in the crowd.

Bastian had had his eye on a ship since their arrival yesterday morning, sure he'd had a dream from Samadur saying not to buy a ship but what could possibly go wrong?

Walking down the ramp that led to the ship he saw three men on the boat, pulling in a haul of fish. The smell was… not delightful and Bastian was having a hard time keeping the fruit from this morning down.

The eldest of the men noticed him first, he had red hair peppered with silver and one of his eyes was glass. Bastian swallowed and regained his charming smile, "Good day sir!"

"Aye, a good day to you too." Bastian recognized the Crescent accent and quickly shifted his to match.

"I was wondering, my good man, if this fine beaut' of a ship might be fer sale?" He said admiring the ship.

"She's not fer sale." The man answered firmly.

"Would she be for fifty?" Bastian ventured.

The glass-eyed man observed him skeptically.

The flower walked next to him speaking in her own thick accent, "Please sir, it's all we have. We desperately need a boat to get to Wanington, and yours seems the most fit."

"Aye." The man replied, "Aye lass, but she's not fer sale, if she t'were then then there'd be a sign, good day to you." The man said and turning to return to his work the trio headed back up the dock.

"Suppose we-" The flower cleared her throat, still speaking in her accent, "We should charter a ferry now." She said in her clearer voice.

"I found one, just a couple pilings down." The maid said, but Bastian wasn't listening to their conversation, his hands longed to steer a ship.

Because of this determination he pulled the two women along all day to try and find a boat that could possibly be for sale.

Stepping down the ramp on the last small ship all three cringed.

"I am not getting on that thing." Hydrangea said sternly.

"It's not that bad." The Sovereign said as he neared it, doubt clear in his own voice. Putting his hand tentatively to one of the low lying sides of the boat he drew it back from the slimy feel.

Observing the scattered ropes and liquor bottles he decided that this wouldn't be his first choice but it would do, the women could clean it up, surely?

"Ai!" A loud high-pitched voice rang out, "Ai! Ai! What you doing touching my ship?" A small, very small man came out from the small cabin and pointed his finger rudely in Bastian's direction.

Bastian, recovering himself, spoke in his best charming matter, "Hello my fine gentlemen, I was just admiring… this… fine… vessel!" He finished with a loud exaltation not quite being able to compliment the junk heap.

"Eh?" The small man asked as he stepped out of the boat, "How much?" He asked holding out his puny hands.

"Uh…" Bastian took a lingering glance at the boat which he now saw was named Queen Fen, looking back down at the small man's hands he debated his decision.

"Bastian, Bastian!" The flower called his name, "Me and Brigitte just found the perfect boat, come, come." She said as she pulled his arm away from the awkward scene.

"I'm sorry my friend, but I'm afraid I must go." He called after the small man.

The flower pulled him to a stack of crates and saw the maid there as well.

The flower was watching him, her arms crossed and her foot tapping.

"What?" He asked scratching his forming beard.

"We sold our horses for a ferry ride, and you want to blow all our money on a ship that won't float." She said huffily.

"It floats." He said pointing in the direction of the ship.

"I counted five holes, blocked off by bottles. Now, I want to get out of here and to Wanington. We're buying passage on a ferry, there are still four left and we still have money."

His shoulders sagged as he nodded, showing he agreed with the flower's suggestion.

The trio then walked to where the ferries were docked.

They all came to an abrupt halt when they saw two soldiers stationed at the plank leading onto the boat.

They watched as one of the soldiers pulled off the cloak on the next passenger's head and observed his features. Letting the man aboard each of the trio felt cold dread seep into their veins.