Wanderlust - Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Fifteen Years Before Wanderlust
Tandrael leaned against the rickety railing, looking out at the port below him. It bustled with activity, even late into the evening. The cargo ships were being filled so that they could leave first thing in the morning, the fishing ships were bringing in their catch for the day. Two large warships were moored off to one side, silently looming over all the smaller boats. Tandrael loved the port—the salty air and the sound of waves crashing against the docks. Even though the port itself was unfamiliar, the sounds and smells were always the same and reminded him of home.
He'd been in Co for a few days already, sent to meet with the new Lord Co, Nata. Tandrael's father was supposed to be there, but he'd been sick for quite some time. Tandrael knew that his father's chance of recovery was slim. Lord West Draulin was getting old. As much as it pained him to think about it, Tandrael knew that it wouldn't be long before he stepped up to take his father's position. He had been training for the role his whole life, so he wasn't particularly worried about the responsibilities. At the same time, he didn't want to become Lord West Draulin, at least not yet. He was twenty-three, still young, and he wanted to cling to his freedom as long as he could. Being the lord of the city was an honour, of course, but a stifling one.
Suddenly something thudded against the back of Tandrael's head. He flinched out of the way, his left hand instinctively reaching up to rub his head. A Crelan was standing nearby, his arms wrapped around long beams of wood he was struggling to carry. He looked about Tandrael's age, probably a couple years younger. His dark hair was long and tied back, though some strands had fallen loose. Black tattoos ran down his bare arms.
"Sorry mate, didn't see you," the Crelan said. He shifted the way he was holding the beams. "You're all right, aye?"
"Suppose so," Tandrael replied. The pain was already fading.
"A Teltan, huh? Not many of you 'round here," the Crelan continued. "You must have come in for Lord Co's ceremony. You a knight?"
Tandrael shook his head.
The Crelan's eyes widened. "Great Roe... you're the lord, aren't you? I just hit the lord. Are you sure you aren't hurt, mate? I mean, your lordship?"
"I'm fine," Tandrael waved his hand dismissively. "Really, don't worry." He didn't like being fussed over. People seemed to think that being a lord made him fragile.
The Crelan seemed reluctant to leave. "What are you doing here?" He nodded at the deserted alley around them. "Are you lost? The back streets can be quite maze like."
"I went for a walk, wanted to see the port," Tandrael said.
"Aren't you lords usually followed by a pack of guards?"
Tandrael smiled. "I may have left them behind." The Crelan raised an eyebrow and Tandrael laughed. "You don't understand, it's very tiring to be constantly followed. I wanted to be alone." He waved out at the port. "I wanted to feel the wind and see the ocean and have a moment to myself. That said, I am a little lost."
"Well, mate, if you give me a moment to deliver these beams, I could help you out," the Crelan said.
Tandrael nodded. "That would be excellent, thank you. Where are you heading?"
"Just down to the port." The Crelan shifted the wooden beams and began to follow the street which gently sloped down to the port.
Tandrael quickly caught up. "Let me help you," he said, scooping up the top few beams before the Crelan could complain. They were heavier than he expected, and very cumbersome. He had to carry them at an angle in order to not scrape the walls at the edge of the street.
The Crelan didn't argue, and led the way down into the port. They added the wooden beams to a pile near a large fishing boat. Tandrael's arms ached by the time he dropped the beams. He couldn't understand how the Crelan had been carrying them all on his own.
An older Crelan approached them. He was short and stocky, his face weather-beaten like many older sailors. "Boy!" he shouted down the dock as he got closer.
"Aye, sir?" the younger Crelan stood up straight and stretched his arms. "Brought everything you asked for."
"Who's the Teltan?" the man asked. "I'm not paying him."
Tandrael watched the exchange silently. Usually, his finely made, deep blue tunic would indicate that he was wealthy. The crest ring on his right hand should've given away his position. Apparently, the sailor wasn't very observant.
"Doubt he wants to be paid, sir," the Crelan replied. "We'll be off, then. See you first thing in the morning, aye?"
The old sailor narrowed his eyes and nodded.
The young Crelan briskly walked back towards the city and Tandrael followed after him.
"Seems like a pleasant man," Tandrael commented.
The Crelan laughed. "Aye, well, he was hirin' and I needed the money. Thank you for the help, by the way. Seems like you're the good kind of lord, the kind who doesn't think they're the Goddess' gift to the world."
"I'm hardly a gift," Tandrael agreed.
"I never thought a lord would help me carry wood," the Crelan smiled. "Especially not after I attacked him with it. My sister won't believe it."
Tandrael shrugged. "I like to believe that being born rich doesn't make me an invalid."
"That's a good approach, mate. I like it."
It didn't seem like they had been walking long when the castle appeared in front of them. The Crelan really knew the quickest way around the city. He walked up to the front gates with Tandrael and dramatically flourished towards them. "The castle, your lordship."
"Thank you." Tandrael moved towards the gate but stopped and turned back to the Crelan. "You never told me your name."
"Oh, didn't I? It's Roland, your lordship."
"You can use my name, if you'd like. I'm Tandrael."
"Fancy name," Roland commented.
"My friends call me Rael."
"Reckon I'll have to become your friend then, aye?" Roland smiled and saluted lazily. "Glad to be of service, Lord Tandrael. Perhaps we'll run into each other again?"
"Perhaps," Tandrael agreed. Roland began to walk away so Tandrael turned around to face the guards by the gate. "Lord Tandrael of West Draulin," he said. "Are you going to let me in?"
"Your men have been looking for you," one of the guards said, his tone accusatory. He called through the portcullis and slowly it was lifted. Tandrael strolled through, knowing that any moment his knights would find him. His captain would surely lecture him about wandering off on his own. Tandrael sighed. He was not looking forward to it.
A few days later Tandrael managed to lose his guards again. He headed out through the streets, trying to remember the way to the little outlook he'd found last time. It gave such a good view of the port, and it was secluded. Perfect for his relaxing moment alone.
It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear and bright blue. There was a strong wind, which seemed to be giving the seagulls a bit of trouble as they circled the fishing boats. Tandrael smiled to himself. He loved being outside, near the ocean. It was better then the stuffy meetings in the castle.
"What kind of man gets lost in the same place twice?"
Tandrael didn't turn around; he was enjoying the view too much. "Maybe I was looking for someone."
"Aye? A girl, then?" Roland leaned against the railing beside him. "Lots of pretty Crelan girls around, if you're interested."
Tandrael decided to go along with the game. "I was looking for a sailor, actually. I met him a couple days ago. He treated me like a person instead of some snobby lord who had to be tiptoed around. It was a nice change."
"Ah, I think I know the man," Roland said. "So you like that then, do you? Bein' treated like a person?"
"I am a person, aren't I?"
"Aye, I think so. So, West Draulin? Pretty important man, aren't you?"
"I don't have any power yet," Tandrael said. "My father Tandrin is still Lord West Draulin. Goddess willing he will be for a few years yet."
"You don't want the job?"
"I'll get the job regardless and I'll do it when the time comes. But I'll miss being able to go out and look around," Tandrael said.
"I thought a lord could do whatever he wanted."
"In theory, I suppose. But in practice we need to put our duties first."
"Well, mate," Roland nudged him gently. "If you're looking to be a normal person for a day, I've got some work to do down at the port. Can't promise you'll be paid, though."
Tandrael smiled. "Some work sounds good."
They worked silently for about an hour, moving crates and gear onto the fishing ship Roland worked on. It was tiring, but Tandrael found it relaxing at the same time. It felt good to be out doing something, even if he felt like his arms might fall off by the end of the hour.
The old sailor was there, directing them and a few other Crelan workers. For the most part the man ignored Tandrael. His attention was on Roland and the others, the people he paid and could therefore control. Tandrael found himself disliking the man more and more as time went by. He was rude to all of his workers, occasionally insulting and yelling at them with hardly any reason to do so. Most of the abuse seemed to roll right over Roland, he took it in stride and kept doing his job. The other workers, most of them younger, couldn't handle it as well.
They had a short break at lunch. Roland showed Tandrael a little fisherman's cart at the edge of the port. A middle aged Crelan couple were running it, the man in charge of the fresh fish and the woman in charge of various pastries. Tandrael bought two buns coated in fruit preserve, and the two young men sat on a nearby crate to eat.
"So why are you working for him?" Tandrael went straight to the question that had been buzzing in his head all morning.
Roland shrugged. "Like I said, he was hirin' and I needed the money. I recently took over the care of my younger sister, you see."
"How old is she?"
"Almost seventeen. Old enough to get married if she wasn't so stubborn. But our father refuses to support her any longer so she lives with me now. I do what I can." Roland smiled sadly. "Reckon you don't understand, havin' all that money at your fingertips."
"It's the city's money," Tandrael said. "I can't just use it whenever I want."
"Still better off than me, aye?" Roland licked the last of the fruit preserve from his fingers and stood up. "Break's over, mate. If you plan on sticking around."
"I'll stay for a few more hours. Anything to keep out of the meeting rooms," Tandrael said, getting to his feet.
Back at the ship, the old sailor already had the younger Crelans working again. A few of them were up in the rigging, but one boy, the youngest, was crying. The old sailor was yelling at him, telling him to join the others above.
Roland grumbled something under his breath and strode across the deck. "Sir, leave the boy alone. I'll go up."
"You need to go pay the carpenter," the sailor replied.
"Let the boy do it." Roland stepped between the boy and the sailor. "I'll go figure out what's wrong with the riggin'. I understand it better than he does, aye? The boy can take some money across the port."
"I don't trust him to do it."
"Then I'll take the money over later."
"It needs to go now," the sailor growled.
"Sir—"
Tandrael saw what was coming. He moved quickly, pushing Roland out of the way and grabbing the sailor's fist. "You don't want to go hitting your workers," Tandrael said calmly.
The sailor yanked his hand away. His face was red with rage. "Who in the Goddess' name are you? The boy has it coming. Get out of here before I beat you, too."
Tandrael stood up a little straighter. He knew exactly how to make himself look more like a lord. "Who in the Goddess' name am I?"
Roland was getting to his feet. "Rael, don't concern yourself with us. You're above this."
Tandrael ignored him. He could tell, from the expression on the sailor's face, that the man was beginning to get worried. It was one of the few situations when Tandrael enjoyed the way people got nervous around him. "I am Lord Tandrael of West Draulin, heir to the city."
The sailor's eyes widened in disbelief, and he took a step backwards. "That isn't possible."
"Lord Tandrael!" The shout came from the docks. The sailor looked about ready to fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness, but Tandrael was distracted. His knights had found him. The six of them burst onto the ship, swords drawn.
"A bit of an overreaction, gentlemen," Tandrael said with a sigh. "I'm hardly being held prisoner."
His guard captain, Sir Yorc, walked across the deck towards him, completely ignoring the now cowering sailor. "My lord, you can't keep wandering off whenever you feel like it. What is going on?"
"I've been working," Tandrael replied, shrugging casually. "Looking for some new talent to bring back to West Draulin. Roland," he turned to the Crelan. "My friend, are you willing to relocate? The pay will be fantastic."
Roland glanced quickly at the old sailor before looking at Tandrael. "Ronila..."
"Your sister? She's welcome to come. I know a house near the waterfront I'm sure she'll love."
"You're truly offering me a job in West Draulin?"
"If you want it."
"Aye." Roland nodded firmly. "Aye, yes, I want it. I'm coming."
Tandrael smiled. "Excellent." He gestured carelessly at the sailor. "Yorc, report this man for needless abuse of workers. Roland, join me." He didn't even look at the sailor as he led the way down the gangplank. Roland walked beside him, the knights all trailed behind, confused.
"You can really turn the lordship on when you want, can't you, mate? I've never heard you speak like that. Might be confusin' if you keep switchin' between the two personalities."
"Personalities?"
"Rael and Lord Tandrael."
Tandrael grinned and put an arm across Roland's shoulders. "Roland, my friend, you'll get used to it."