CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (46 page)

The ginger-haired coachman raised his eyebrows and smiled leeringly. “Oh aye, that’ll do sir - I’ll be the soul of discretion. Don’t you worry none.”

“Thank you, and good riding.” D’Molay grabbed his knapsack and hopped off the carriage to join Aavi who had climbed out on her own. Remembering her early instructions, she had her cloak on and was staying out of the coachman’s sight.

“There was green spinning all around your glow, what did you tell him?”

He smiled at her as they started to walk into Poseidon’s shrine. “I told him that you were going to marry someone and that we are running off to have some secret fun before your wedding day.”

She looked confused and worried. “But now he knows I’m a girl. Isn’t that bad?”
 

“I’m sure he figured that out when he heard you crying. He may be old, but he’s not stupid. And telling a false story about what we are up to satisfies his curiosity. We’ll be more easily forgotten.”

Aavi was confused by the subtlety of it all. Lying was something she didn’t really understand, but she grasped that D’Molay was trying to hide who they were so they would be safe.
 

He took her hand in his as they walked through the bustling crowds. “Come on. Let’s find a ship and get something to eat.”

D’Molay led her toward the regal building that housed Poseidon’s Shrine. Like many of the local buildings, it was fronted by white marble columns. Its unique feature was its teal-colored tiled roof, an echo of the tones of the sea, Poseidon’s home. The tiles upon his shrine stood out amid the red earth colored tiles on the other rooftops. Aavi and D’Molay walked up seven steps through an entry arch and entered a covered courtyard with a beautiful fountain in the middle. In the center of the fountain was an imposing statue of Poseidon, emerging majestically from a cresting wave. Water bubbled and flowed off the top and edges of the marble-carved waves, giving the frozen sea a look of motion. Aavi found it to be very inspiring and uplifting, but D’Molay barely glanced at it, more interested in selecting one of three arched exits from the shrine.

Gathered around the fountain were half a dozen worshippers bowed down on their hands and knees, praying and praising Poseidon. Aavi noticed that every so often one of the people would dip their fingers in the fountain’s water and touch the sides of their faces. She tugged at D’Molay’s sleeve. “What are they doing?”

He watched them for a second to see what she was referring to. “They’re making a prayer to Poseidon to protect them from the dangers of traveling on the sea.”

“Should we do that too?”

D’Molay smiled a little as if enjoying some ironic joke. “You can if you want, Aavi. I gave up such things as a Freeman.”
 
Then he lowered the tone of his voice as one of the worshippers gave him a disapproving stare. “Come on, let’s leave. That way.” He pointed at the archway off to the left.
 

D’Molay started to walk in that direction while Aavi still stood watching the pilgrims.
 
Noticing he had left, she quickly caught up. “So why did we come in here? Were we supposed to meet someone?”

He looked over to her as they walked. “No. I just wanted the coachman to remember that this was where he dropped us off.”

Aavi was confused. “Why? I thought we didn’t want people to know where we are going.” All this traveling seemed very complicated to her.

“We don’t. That’s exactly why I picked the shrine as our fake destination. I have no connection to Poseidon and neither do you. If the coachman talks and someone comes looking for us, this will be a dead end. They won’t have any hint as to where we went from here. They might even think we were random pilgrims who were mistaken for you and me. Does that make sense now?”

“I suppose.” Aavi felt she was missing something in his explanation, but knew that D’Molay was an expert at keeping hidden. She decided that this kind of deception was just beyond her ability to comprehend.
   

They crossed the cobblestone street and walked along for a block or two before turning down a narrow alleyway that had no shops opening onto it. It ran along between two rows of smaller buildings. D’Molay stopped and then casually leaned back against the wall, looking back the way they had come. Aavi stood beside him and waited too.
 
After a moment, he smiled. “Good.
 
I don’t think we were followed.” He led her on, down the winding alley and out to the street facing the shore. “There are taverns and bars near here where boat captains often go for a drink.
 
We’ll look for someone to take us across the lake with no questions asked.”
 

As he spoke, Aavi looked out at the nearby docks. “I’m sure someone here will take us.
 
There are so many boats.” D’Molay raised an eyebrow at her sudden confidence.

As they approached one of the taverns, Aavi could smell cooking meats and other spices mixing with the scents of the lake and the fishing boats. A small gust of wind blew a strand of her flaxen hair out from under her hood as they came to a stop in front of a two-story, weathered building with open doors. She thought about how ordered and pretty Mazu’s dock house looked by comparison. Then she winced as she recalled that D’Molay had killed a man there just a little while ago, all to protect her from some unknown danger.
 
She started to feel tears welling up again.
 
This time she forced them back.

“This looks like a good place to start,” D’Molay said, strolling toward the opening.
 

“Have you been here before?” Aavi’s voice cracked slightly, but she tried to hide it.

“No. That’s the whole idea. Now stay quiet while we’re inside,” he reminded her.

“Oh, right,” she whispered.
 
Aavi tucked the stray hair under her hood.

The tavern was a dark place compared to the sunny day outside. It seemed to be perfect for people who wanted to hide.
 
She realized that must be why D’Molay had picked this place. The room was even more obscured by the smoke drifting up and around the room from the cigars and pipes that a fair number of the patrons were puffing on. Aavi recalled she had seen one or two people doing this while at the slavers. She assumed they had discovered a way to cook their food and eat it at the same time.

Against one wall several men stood along a tall wooden counter, holding small goblets and drinking. On the other side of the counter stood a balding man with a mustache and a white apron who busied himself refilling their cups. Aavi remembered seeing a similar arrangement near the eating area of the slavers’ den.
 
Scattered around the room were about a dozen old heavy tables and chairs. Most had men seated at them. There didn’t seem to be any women in the room.
 
Then Aavi noticed the stairs leading to the second floor and saw two women dressed in outfits somewhat like the one she had worn for Namtar. They were leaning against the wooden railing that ran along the balcony of the second floor. One of them looked over at D’Molay and half-heartedly waved at him. D’Molay ignored her, but Aavi remembered that one was supposed to wave back when someone waved to you and did so. The woman giggled, shaking her head and turning away to whisper to her companion. Again Aavi felt embarrassed for doing yet another thing wrong, it seemed. She was glad that D’Molay was in front of her and hadn’t seen her wave.
 

Just then he turned around to check on her.

“You all right?” he whispered.

Her face turned a little red, but he did not notice. “Uh, yes. What happens next?”

“We look for a boat captain. Follow me to the bar.” As he spoke, D’Molay looked around the room, assessing the customers. Then he walked over to the long table and leaned against the top of it. He spoke to the bald man. “Let me have some mead.”

Aavi followed and watched from a couple of steps back. “So that’s a bar,” she said softly to herself.
 
She was sure she had heard the term a couple of times at the slave den, but hearing someone say they were going to a bar had made no sense at the time.

The man gave a nod of his head, reached for a goblet, and turned around to fill it from a large wooden keg placed in the wall. He turned back, handing the goblet to D’Molay. “Five coppers.”

D’Molay put twenty coppers on the bar, knowing the extra money would make the bar man more helpful. “Thanks. Can you point me to a boat captain?”

The barkeeper sized D’Molay up, and then pointed to a table off to the right. “There are plenty of sailors here, but talk to Zosimus. I think you’re looking for a man like him.”
 
He slid the twenty coppers off the table and went to fill another patron’s goblet.

D’Molay turned and looked over to the indicated table. The man sitting there was a bit on the portly side and wore Roman-style linen robes in shades of grey and blue. He was unshaven and bore the somewhat dazed and distant smile of someone who had been drinking for a while. Two other men sat with him. They all appeared to know each other quite well from the way they chuckled and talked. D’Molay patted Aavi on the shoulder. “Come on.”
 

As Aavi followed him over to the table she looked at his inner glow, which was back to its normal color again. She realized that D’Molay was felt comfortable here among people with no special powers. There were no gods here as far as she could tell, and he seemed all the more confident for the fact. He faced the men and addressed the one in the middle of the group, “Are you Zosimus?”

“I’m Captain Zosimus. What’s your business?”
 
He looked D’Molay in the eye and then glanced back to the hooded Aavi.

“We’re looking for passage to the Olympian Realms, doesn’t matter what port.”

Captain Zosimus eased back in his chair and smiled a bit.
 
“Just you and your... associate? No cargo, no one else?”

“Just us.
 
Are you taking passengers today?”

“We are leaving for Dioscrias in about two hours. For you and your associate, the fare would be eight gold each. Eight more if you need passage back,” Zosimus said. It was a high fee for passage, and they both knew it.

D’Molay took on the look of a concerned buyer as he replied. “Sixteen gold to take just the two of us one way?
 
Let’s say we make it fifteen.”
 
D’Molay shaved a little off the fare, knowing he could have bargained for less, but he didn’t want to annoy the Captain too much.

“All right, then. Fifteen gold for the two of you. You can pay me when you come on board.” He slapped his hand down on the table as if he was closing a book. He turned to the man sitting to his right. “Meikos, take them outside and show them where we are docked so they won’t get lost, eh?” Captain Zosimus picked up his goblet and toasted his two new passengers, silently gloating over the high price he’d gotten them to pay.

“Yes, Captain. Come with me, you two.”
 
Meikos stood up and led them out of the tavern. No one seemed to pay them any attention, which was a relief to D’Molay.

They stepped out into the bright sunlight.
 
It seemed almost blinding outside after being in the dark tavern, and the men both raised their hands to shield their eyes. Aavi seemed completely unaffected by the glare of the sun and looked around, taking in the picturesque scene of the shore, the boats and the various people of all persuasions passing by. Meikos pointed off to the left at a Roman-styled cargo ship with a mast and sail. “That’s it, there. We call it the Hektor. It is tied up at dock seventeen. You see it?”

“I see which one you mean. So you leave in two hours?” D’Molay wanted to make sure he got the time correct as he studied of the ship. He could see the mast and sails and part of the back, but the rest of the vessel was obscured by the other boats tied up to the dock.

“Two hours. I’d get there early just to be sure, if I were you. So, does the woman talk?”

Aavi’s eyes opened wide upon hearing herself being referred to as female. She had hoped no one would be able to tell underneath her cloak. D’Molay did not seem surprised as he replied. “Only when she needs to.
 
I prefer that you address only me.
 
She is of no concern to you.”