When Ethan finally arrived in the village of Hopple, he was surprised by the size of the docks, the ten or so large ships docked there, and by the miniscule amount of buildings actually built on the shore. For all intensive purposes, the dock system was three times the size of the village and looked like a small town afloat in the calm waters of the harbor.
The onshore dwellings were simple wooden structures-single family homes, mostly, with cobblestone lanes running between them. There were a number of larger buildings supported by stilts, anchored to the seafloor in the harbor. Ethan supposed they might be taverns and other such places where the wages of weary sailors could be spent on frivolity and wickedness.
These were excellent places to find the sort of people who undertake mysterious voyages. Ethan trod down the path, winding through lanes of lantern-lit windows-families settling in for a good night’s rest. He proceeded from shore to the docks and the revelry of fools eager to part with their money in the establishments beyond.
When Ethan reached the sea, it surprised him to find the cobblestone lanes simply continued unabated as bridges, extending into the harbor. Normally the docks would have been constructed of wood, but the people of Hopple had built a highly organized system of stone walkways likely standing a good ten feet above the water, even at high tide.
Ethan heard music filtering out of several larger buildings, so he decided to head for the closest. A few people milled about on the stone pathways. Then Ethan noticed a man in uniform. Hoping not to arouse suspicion, he did not pause or quicken his pace.
The man happened to be one of Mordred’s soldiers. He was not as large as the Wraith Riders and may have been one of the men conscripted from Nodian villages. Ethan continued on, past the man, toward the tavern.
When Ethan reached the door, he passed two more soldiers. Fortunately he had worn commoner’s clothing. The sign hanging over the door read, The Salty Dog. Lively musicians played at the far end of the building and a great number of people danced and drank intoxicating beverages. Soldiers danced as well, slinging ale from their mugs in every direction in the process. Armed men and strong drink, never a good combination, he thought.
The Salty Dog was not an elegant place. In fact, it lacked refinement in every way imaginable. There was little more to the structure than a bandstand for the musicians and tables for gamblers and drinkers. A bar along one wall served intoxicating beverages of every sort. This is where Isaiah has arranged for us to find a ship to take the Word to Macedon?
A cloud of smoke hung in the room fed by a plentitude of pipes. Ethan sputtered and coughed, hoping he wasn’t too conspicuous. Nevertheless, he was acutely aware of the fact that his young age was apparent. Anyone remotely alert wonder why he was here.
Ethan reconsidered his decision to enter the Salty Dog. He turned and noticed the two soldiers approaching him from across the room. He walked more quickly, heading back toward the door when a foot moved out into his path, tripping him. Ethan fell to the floor, landing on his palms as though he would begin a set of pushups. He bounced back to his feet quickly, only to find a ragtag sailor shoving his chair away. “You stepped on my foot you little puke!” the man bellowed.
The sailor was unshaven, lanky in appearance, with a mop of black hair sprouting like roots out from under a dirty seaman’s cap. He smelled absolutely awful, reeking of body odor and strong drink. Ethan was about to apologize to the man, when he noticed the soldiers again. While he wasn’t paying attention, the sailor hauled off and smashed him across the cheek.
The blow shocked him back to the confrontation with the drunken sailor. The man prepared another telegraphed punch, which Ethan blocked with ease. “Please, I don’t want to hurt you, sir.”
He felt it wasn’t even a fair fight, until the drunkard managed to fade with his next punch and get by Ethan’s defense. That punch doubled Ethan over. The man came at him again as the patrons around them began cheering for anybody who could do the most damage. Ethan blocked again and threw his first punch at the man, but the sailor anticipated it with ease and countered. A lightning fast succession of hand-to-hand, feet-to-hand, and feet- to-feet maneuvers quickly followed until the soldiers broke them up. They grabbed Ethan and slugged the sailor in the gut with a club. The soldiers drew their swords. Ethan wasn’t sure what to do.
“I told you never to come down to this stinking tavern,” a man yelled from the crowd. He ran up to Ethan and snatched him by the scruff of the neck away from the soldiers. “Thank you kindly, officers,” the man said, regarding them before he chastised the boy again. “Your mother has been worried something fierce, and here I find you drinking with the devil in this place. You’re going to get the beating of your life, that’s what!”
Ethan stood flabbergasted until he noticed the man wink at him while his back was to the soldiers. Ethan recognized the man as Levi Bonifast. He wore a crude disguise with a full beard and different clothes, but it was him. Ethan almost hugged him, but Levi tore his leather belt out of his trouser loops and began thrashing it at him. “Boy, you had better run your hide home, if ya know what’s good for ya!”
The soldiers stood there dumbfounded. “Hey, I want to see-” began one of them.
“Aye, officer, your right, I’ll skin him alive, if I give him a lick. He’ll get the beating he deserves!” Levi said. Then he chased Ethan out of The Salty Dog at the end of his belt.
Levi left the soldiers with the drunken sailor still hanging limp between their arms. “What about this one?” they asked of their commander.
“Throw him out!” the commander said. And so they did.
The soldiers carried the smelly urchin just outside the door-he moaned the entire time. Then, giving him a grand heave-ho, the two soldiers sent him reeling into the dark waters of the harbor.
Levi ranted at Ethan the entire way until they had passed the bridge leading them to shore and the housing district of Hopple. Then he settled down and looked around, searching for any soldiers who might be lurking in the streets. “How ya doin, lad?” Levi said with a toothy grin.
Ethan grabbed his outstretched hand and shook it as though he’d never been so glad to see anyone in his life. “I can’t believe you’re here in Hopple!”
“I better be, if I’m to bear you and Gideon to Macedon with the Word of Shaddai.”
“You? You’re providing our passage?” Ethan could barely contain his excitement.
“Aye, it was Isaiah who sent me here,” Levi confessed. “He’s a crafty old man.”
“I suppose he is,” Ethan said. “We’ve got to get back to Joseph and Micah. They’re keeping watch over the chest in a cave not too far from here.”
Ethan turned intending to lead Levi through the village toward the cave in the badlands beyond. But standing there, soaking wet and angry, was the smelly sailor whom Ethan had brawled with in The Salty Dog. “Where do you think you’re going?” he shouted.
Ethan prepared for another round with the disgusting brawler when the man stopped short and pulled off his seaman’s cap. His black head of hair came off with it. Underneath, a short layer of black hair bristled. Instantly, the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
“Gideon!”
“Shhh!” he hissed.
Gideon reached out a hand to Ethan, and his body odor wafted toward their noses.
“Oh, man…whew! Gideon, you really do stink!” Ethan said.
“I know, it’s disgusting ain’t it?” he flashed a rancid grin, teeth caked in something green, akin to algae.
“Let’s not dawdle, lads,” Levi warned. “We’ve got to get the Word loaded onto my ship and shove off without alerting those soldiers. The sooner we get back to the cave, the more likely we can get out of port unnoticed during the early morning hours.”
They ran at a brisk pace up the hill toward the boundary of the village.
“Gideon?”
“Yes, Ethan?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to run ahead of you.”
“Aye lad, good idea,” Levi said. “If I don’t get upwind of his foul funk, I’m liable to lose my dinner.”
SUCH SWEET SORROW
