While I woke up early these days, I was not naturally a morning person. It was a learned habit, and I needed to get up immediately and start moving to wake up properly.

This morning, I woke up miserable because I'd been woken up the night before, interrupting my sleep. The temptation to turn over and go back to sleep was strong, but as the leader I had to set an example. So I got up and started stretching to get my blood flowing and wake me up the rest of the way.

…

I said I got up and started stretching to get my blood flowing and wake me up the rest of the way!

No, I didn't close my eyes again and go back to sleep when I didn't hear anyone else awake, I responsibly got up and—

…

Somehow feeling even more miserable, I woke up hot and sweaty to the sounds of everyone moving around on the upper deck.

As I lay there, feeling miserable and now guilty, I took a moment to decry my complete and utter unsuitability for being a leader.

…

Sighing, I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Well, that was enough sleeping in. I needed to get up and—

I paused, sitting still for a moment as I concentrated on feeling how the ship moved. Why were we swaying? And… why did I hear water splashing?

Groaning, I pushed myself to my feet, still rubbing my eyes. The wisplight that also moved air was back in its usual place, but it was deactivated, the bead receptacle conspicuously empty. The light coming in through the hatch next to it made the wisplight unnecessary, and I was relieved to note it was the soft glow of morning light rather than the harsh illumination of noon. I hadn't slept in that long, then.

Sighing and grunting like an old man because it made me feel better, I got to my feet and started rolling up my bedroll and folding my blanket. It only took a moment's work to put my bedding away as I resolutely forced myself to be awake. Hanging my walking stick next to where my sword was—I'd brought it in case I needed it for anything, even if couldn't really carry it around Covehold Demesne—and putting away my knife, I climbed up to the deck.

I blinked at the light, even as the ocean breeze started to blow over my face. The splashing continued, and I turned to find some of the men balancing on one of the outriggers and scooping up water to pour over themselves as they scrubbed at their bodies, those who still had some soap using it.

Beyond them, the buildings and warehouses of Covehold was gone, and there was only the sea…

I looked the other way, and sighed as I recognized the stretch of shoreline there, which was bereft of glittering prismatic colors. We weren't far from Covehold Demesne, still well within its sphere of influence, so it wouldn't take too long to get back.

"Yhorj," I said as I climbed the rest of the way up, "why are we out here?"

"The other ship started letting people off early this morning, Lord Rian," Yhorj said from where he was carefully dipping his shirt into the seawater before starting to pound it on one of the wooden beams to crudely wash it. "Some of them were getting too close, and there were troublemakers getting past the dockworkers to the dock. I decided it would be best if we left for a little while until it was safer, since we needed to leave the docks to bathe anyway."

I blinked. "Oh. Was it that bad?"

"It was like last time again, Lord Rian. The sailors were just getting people out of the ship, people were trying to hold on to what they'd brought with them, there were arguments breaking out as people accused each other of taking things… it was starting to sound like trouble, I thought we shouldn't be where they could walk up to us."

I nodded slowly. "I see…" Ugh, I should have been awake for this, but Yhorj was in charge of the Coldhold when I wasn't on it for a reason. If he thought it was best for us to make ourselves scarce for a moment, then I trusted his judgement.

Yawning, I took off my shirt. Despite my guts telling me they needed to be emptied, there was an order to this. Take a bath and wash clothes, then release our inner darkness. Wouldn't want to bathe in that water if we did it the other way around, after all.

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I got my first proper look at the newly arrived ship as we drove back into Covehold Demesne. The ship docked in one of the piers was a fat-looking thing, unlike the boxy riverboats common in the old continent, but then those boats didn't have to worry about waves battering against their sides. Unlike the salt-collecting boats, which tended towards being wide and shallow bowls, these ships were narrower in profile, looking like a large, inflated bladder, or a kind of elongated seed. A mast rose from it, though at the moment there was no sail, no doubt having been furled to keep from catching the breeze and having the ship pull against the ropes securing it to the dock.

At the back of the ship was a pressure-release chimney for a steam driver. It would be heated by Whispering, I knew. There were always some wizards on every ship like these, and they were usually offered reduced passage fees for assisting in the operation of the ship, such as heating the water in the steam driver that was the primary means of propelling the ship and desalinating drinking water, or maintaining the temperature of the occupied parts of the ship to just within livable ranges.

While we were still too far from the ship for me to see it at the moment, I knew that all the wood above the waterline, as well as on the inside of the hull, would have the strangely textured look of material that had been overly Deadspoken. It wasn't dissimilar from the effect Whispering had on the ordered layers of natural stone, in which the natural patterns and striations were subtly smeared as magic was used to alter its arrangement. It was far less obvious with wood, since the Deadspeaking was used to collapse the holes created by growing Iridescence and reinforced the structural integrity of the material, but repeated applications led to patterns that didn't occur naturally in wood.

I'd noticed a lot of those, since there hadn't really been all that much to do for entertainment on the ship I'd traveled on to Covehold.

As I we got closer to the docks, I couldn't help looking at the larger ship with some resentment. Sure, it probably wasn't the same ship that had brought me here, but it certainly represented it. The cramped quarters, the noise, the smell, the heat and cold, the bad food…

I noticed I wasn't the only one giving the boat sour looks. Were the others remembering their time on board the ship that had brought them here too? Probably. Everyone would have needed to go through the same thing, cramped in the hold except for the scheduled times for people to go up on the deck to wash the Iridescence growing on themselves off with seawater…

That had been an experience, learning that people in some demesnes didn't consider it an issue for women to be shirtless in public, treating it as no different as men being bare-chested…

I shook my head, both to banish the memory of embarrassment and to return my thoughts to the present. My gaze turned from the ship towards the docks and dockyard next to it. The warehouse on the end closest to the dockmaster's office, the one I knew new arrivals were allowed to stay in for the first three days before being kicked out to make other arrangements, was open, and a chimney at the top was blowing out smoke. A late breakfast was likely being prepared, as being kicked out of the ship had probably meant no food had been prepared for them. The front doors of the warehouse had been thrown wide open, no doubt to allow air to circulate and help deal with the heat that was probably building up inside.

A few buildings down, another warehouse was open. A wooden crane was lifting things from the ship's hold and setting them down on the dockyard, and men were busy moving the unloaded cargo from the ship to this new warehouse. I let out a breath that wasn't quite a sigh as I looked over the activity. I wasn't sure if I wanted us to be docked near that. At the moment the new arrivals were probably setting up their little mini-camps and getting their bearings, enjoying having more space to themselves, but it was probably only a matter of time before they got curious and stepped out of the warehouse. And while the ship's sailors were working at the moment, they would probably stop for lunch and maybe take a break at noon when it was hottest. If they approached the Coldhold…

"Yhorj, after we get off at the dock, move the Coldhold out so that you're in sight of the docks but too far to be bothered," I said. "We should be back around noon and hopefully we'll have the new recruits with us, or at least get a start on loading their baggage onto the ship."

"So we don't go out for salt and water today?" Yhorj asked.

I considered that. "Come back by noon. I'll try to bring you all lunch, and if we're coming back, it will likely be then. If we're not here by then… well, wait for us. I'll leave you some beads to buy lunch with."

Yhorj nodded. "Got it, Lord Rian."

"No booze, all right? I don't want to see what happens when someone tries to guide the ship after they'd been drinking."

I deliberately did not notice Yhorj rolling his eyes at me. "Understood, Lord Rian."

Look, if I hadn't made it explicit, someone would have thought to do it! They're all good men, and I trust them… but I also know what sorts of things people can get up to if you leave them wiggle room!

Yhoe the dockmaster didn't come to meet us as the Coldhold approached one of the docks and let me, Multaw, and Liggs off. I caught a glimpse of him keeping watch over proceedings and directing the dayshift dockworkers, looking very busy. He saw me, and I waved and mouthed 'later' at him, pointing towards the Coldhold, and to my relief he nodded in understanding and waved to tell me to go. Hopefully we both understood that I meant I'd settle the matter of any extant docking fees later. These sorts of gestures weren't infallible communication, after all.

Let off the hook, walking sticks in hand, we headed out into the city to check in on our prospective Deadspeaker recruits and see who had decided to accept out offer.

While it would be difficult if they all decided to refuse, it would also awkward if all of them accepted. Still, I'd rather deal with the latter problem than the former. It was easier to turn someone down than it was to try to convince them to change their mind.

…

No, either way it was going to be very awkward for me.

And after I find out which ones have decided to accept our invitation… well, I was going to have to see Ravia and inquire about renting one of their carts and someone to help push it along for the day.

We're not going to carry all their stuff by hand to the Coldhold, after all. That was just asking to get robbed in the street. All it took was someone willing to make a snatch and run…

Yeah, I was definitely going to ask Ravia if I could borrow a cart.

Already sweating, I headed towards the nearest of our prospective recruits, hoping they were home and that I had remembered the way properly.