Whill of Agora: Book 1, Michael Ploof [read aloud TXT] 📗
- Author: Michael Ploof
- Performer: -
Book online «Whill of Agora: Book 1, Michael Ploof [read aloud TXT] 📗». Author Michael Ploof
For five long months the elves sailed ever westward until they finally reached Agora. They landed on the easternmost coast of Uthen-Arden and made contact with the people of Opalmist. Soon, the ruler of Arden— at that time, King Thoerolus— heard of the refugees and went personally to see them. Whill knew many songs, in both human and elven tongues, that told of the meeting between the queen of the elves and the good king of Arden. The king agreed to help and gave the elves a great land in the southeast, which they called Elladrindellia. Since then, the elves had lived there quietly and built great cities—the likes of which had never been seen in Agora.
Whill had heard countless stories of the elves from Abram and never tired of them. He longed to meet one someday, but that was not likely since they did not leave their territory often, and humans had been banned long ago, by King Thoerolus, from entering without permission. Most people regarded the elves with fear, mostly because of their use of what humans called magic. The dwarves particularly despised the elves and blamed them for the appearance of the Draggard in Agora. For two hundred years both men and elves had kept the Draggard at bay. They always came from the east and were always defeated by the navies of the five kingdoms. But recently the Draggard had been attacking from all sides, and had already overtaken the Ebony Mountains and made them their own. This only infuriated the dwarves more, intensifying their distrust in the elves.
Whill thought of the stories and wondered if he should indeed become a knight of Eldalon. Abram had told him of the war that would come, and suspected that Abram would expect him to become a soldier. Whill headed back towards the city as the sun climbed higher in the sky. He didn’t want to be late for his meeting with Freston.
He entered the city and rode to the shipbuilder’s house. Abram was already there, and they soon continued the plans for the ship. Freston calculated what it would cost in materials to build, and estimated the time in labor for each of his three sons. This brought the total to one hundred gold coins, hardly one percent of Whill’s fortune.
That night Whill and Abram enjoyed a hearty dinner before visiting the Wet Whistle again. For hours they listened to Barlemew tell his tall tales of dragon attacks and mermaids.
The next day Whill awoke to find a light rain falling on Fendale. From the grey sky, thin sheets of mist lazily fell to the earth. He was unsure of the time since the sun failed to shine through the thick clouds. He guessed it was only a couple hours past dawn. He got up and stretched with a great yawn, and was about to begin washing when he saw a note on the small table:
Whill,
I’ve gone to take care of some small business. I’ll be back after dusk.
-Abram
Whill wondered what business Abram was tending to. He was a little disappointed that his friend would not be at the docks; today began the building of his ship. He finished washing and dressed. After a small breakfast he headed to the Fendale Bank, on horseback, and withdrew enough gold to pay Freston in advance and buy Abram a gift. After stowing the gold in his saddlebags, he headed for Freston’s house. Making his way down Fendale’s main street, he felt as though he was being watched. Since the tournament, many people recognized him as he passed by; he gave rise to many hushed whispers and pointing fingers wherever he went, and some children even asked for his signature. But this was not the feeling of adoring fans watching him. It was more like the feeling he had in the woods before the wolves attacked.
He stopped his horse and looked around. Rain fell softly on the cobblestones as a woman shook a rug from a second-story window. Only a small crowd moved about the fairly quiet street; three children hurried after two women; men on horseback rode by, talking loudly; a kid pulling a wheel cart ran past. The strange feeling did not ebb as Whill searched for its source. He began to ride again, slightly faster now.
The feeling followed him all the way to Freston’s door. Once inside, he peered out through its small window. A lone horseman slowly rode by, coming from the same direction that Whill had. He could not determine whether the man had been following him, for he looked straight ahead and showed no interest in the house.
“Are you ready to begin work on your beauty?”
Whill jumped. The old man looked at him oddly. “Are you alright, Whill?”
“Uh, yeah, fine, a little jumpy. I brought payment for the ship.” He handed over the heavy bag of gold coins. “That is the agreed-upon amount.”
Freston’s eyes grew wide as he felt the weight of the gold. “You know, you could have just transferred the gold from your vault to mine.”
Whill felt like an idiot. “I’m sorry, it didn’t cross my mind. I should have assumed that a man such as you would have his own vault. Now I feel like a genuine ass.”
“No matter,” assured Freston. “But you shouldn’t travel the city with so much gold. There isn’t a person in Fendale who doesn’t know about your victory—or your generosity. You have become a target of bandits and thieves already, I’m sure. But they will not be bold enough to try to rob you here in the city. They will wait until you set sail.”
“I could just leave the money here in Fendale.”
“That you could, but they will assume you have the gold on you anyway. Your best bet is to trade whatever gold you might take for jewels, which are much easier to carry and less difficult to conceal. As for setting sail, I would ask for a naval escort if I were you.”
Whill pondered the situation. “Maybe you’re right. Would Lord Rogus grant such an escort?”
“He could spare at least one ship, I’m sure. Don’t worry yourself about it. Abram has been through worse than a pirate raid. I’m sure he is prepared for such things.” Freston smiled reassuringly. “Now let’s see how my boys are coming with the frame.”
Whill followed Freston the short distance to the dock entrance. There were many ways to get to the docks; at least twenty passages led from different parts of the city down into the great cave. They headed down a wide spiral stairway lit by large torches mounted every few feet. As they descended, Whill’s excitement increased. He had, of course, read about the great cave-harbor of Fendale, and had even seen elaborate drawings of it in many books. Now he was having his own ship built there. They reached the end of the stairway and Whill beheld the great harbor.
The cave was bigger than Whill had envisioned—at least a half a mile across, as far as he could tell. Its ceiling was more than two hundred feet high in some places. Light from the sun, along with the ocean waters, came in through four great gates carved out of the cave wall and reflected off its shiny mineral rich surface. He guessed the distance from the back wall to the gates was about a thousand feet. It was hard to believe that above them sat the great city of Fendale. Within the immense cave there were over a hundred ships docked. The harbor was abuzz with movement. There were fisherman unloading their latest catch from giant nets and merchants loading their cargo for distant cities of Agora. Others unloaded cargo that had just been imported to the city, carrying large bags of grain or hauling large barrels from the decks.
Whill was in awe. He followed Freston to where his ship was being built, and noticed a large section of the docks that was for use only by the royal navy. Great warships the likes of which he had only seen in books loomed overhead. They were massive, nearly three hundred feet long. Down the large ramps of some came soldiers in full armor, while on others, soldiers were boarding to spend a few months patrolling the great ocean. It was a very emotional sight; while the returning soldiers were greeted by their loved ones—with open arms and many hugs and kisses—the departing soldiers endured the tears of theirs. Women and children waved and blew kisses as one of the ships launched, the great many large oars protruding from its lower sides rowing in perfect unison. Freston stopped and bowed his head as the women began the farewell song. Taking his lead, Whill did the same as the voices of the women rose to the ceiling and echoed throughout the vast harbor.
Goodbye, my love, till your ship returns
To the city of light, where the elven torch burns.
May the ocean be kind, may the wind catch your sail
May the stars guide true, and may your vessel not fail.
As the light from the sun rises each day
In my heart you will dwell, and forever stay.
Though foe you may find, and fell they may be,
You will vanquish each threat, you are kings of the sea.
If darkness doth find you, and find you it may,
Think of the clear light that shines night and day.
I’ll wait for you here till your ship returns
To the city of light, where the elven torch burns.
The song ended as the ship left the cave and entered the open sea. Freston raised his head with watery eyes. “My father was a soldier for the royal navy. I was only ten when my mother and I sang that very song. I was forty when my wife sang it for my eldest son.” He gave the women a nod and smile as they walked by— some with children, some without. “Their ships never returned, my father’s nor my son’s.”
He started for the building site. Whill followed, not quite knowing what to say. His mood had been greatly dampened by the sight of the leaving ship—and by the song. “This city has lost many men to the sea, be they fisherman or soldiers,” Freston said. “Dragons, pirates, storms, and the Draggard wars are a constant threat to all who venture over the great waters. Every month one or more ships do not return, and lately their number has doubled. There is a need for more and more soldiers to hold the eastern borders of Agora. Ships that used to be gone for only weeks are now on duty for months. There is hardly anyone in this city who has not known loss to the ocean. Yet, we love it still. And we will remain people of the blue waters until the day they overtake this land.”
Whill looked at the old man as he spoke, and saw him as he had not
Comments (0)