31 Nunghal Ship

When the Nunghal lookout sighted land, he shouted until he was hoarse. From the starboard rail, Asaddan saw nothing more than a smudge of gray uncertainty on the horizon, another mirage or perhaps a line of storm clouds.

Though the bulky vessel had been moving along at a good clip for days now, their supplies were low, water barrels nearly empty, and tempers short. The seafaring Nunghal-Su were accustomed to long voyages, but only in familiar waters. It had been more than a month since the last known landmark.

Ruad took his place next to Asaddan at the prow, crossing his arms over his sharkskin vest. “Well, we have made it here, friend… wherever here might be. This land is not on any of our charts.”

Asaddan still couldn't make out a coastline, but the lookout's enthusiasm and certainty could not be denied. “We can hunt fresh food on land. My stomach longs for the taste of meat again, and I am sick of eating fish. No wonder your clan members are always thin and sallow-looking.”

The shipkhan let out a rude snort. “At least fish don't stink the way your buffalo herds do.”

“That is open to debate.”

After turning the rudder and setting the accordioned sail to make the best possible speed, the Nunghal crew guided the ship toward the mysterious shore. The details of cliffs and coves soon became more apparent, and barely submerged reefs made a milky froth of the water.

Ruad held a spyglass to his eye, examining the coastline. “I see a settlement, maybe even a large city.” He passed the spyglass to Asaddan, who spotted an unlit lighthouse on a spire of rock, as well as whitewashed wooden buoys floating near underwater hazards. He also made out pale buildings crowded close to each other, like stone tents at the largest clan gathering.

As the gray-sailed ship picked its way through the reefs toward the strange city and its harbor, they encountered seven feluccas, shallow-draught boats with a single mast and large sail that extended so far out to the side that the vessel looked sure to overbalance and capsize. Brown-skinned men aboard the anchored feluccas wore only loincloths as they dove over the sides, swimming deep. When they broke the surface, sputtering water and flinging dark hair from their eyes, they reminded Asaddan of otters at play as they waved a friendly greeting at the Nunghal ship.

“Better anchor here before those reefs rip our hull open,” Ruad said. “We'll take the ship's boat to meet with the divers and find out where we are. Asaddan, you'll translate, since you are the only one aboard who speaks the language.”

“If they are indeed Urabans,” Asaddan said.

Concealing swords by the gunwales, he joined the shipkhan and four burly sailors as they rowed over to where the divers trod water alongside their feluccas. Asaddan cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Hello! Do you understand me? Do you speak Uraban?” Remembering the traditional blessing, he added, “Do you follow the Map?”

One of the divers shouted back, “Yes, we follow the Map.” The accent was so strong that Asaddan had difficulty comprehending it. “Welcome, strangers!”

One man dove deep and remained submerged for so long that Asaddan feared he would drown. Then, with a surprising splash, he popped up right next to the ship's boat, smiling as he lifted a handheld net to spill rough oysters into their boat. “A gift for you, strangers.” He barely sounded out of breath at all. “I'd wager at least two of these hold milk pearls.”

Ruad nudged Asaddan. “What is he saying?”

“He says these oysters have pearls in them.”

“Now that's a fine start, but find out where we are. Ask them the name of this place.”

Asaddan said, “What is the name of this city? We have had a long voyage. Can you tell us where we are?”

The man found this outrageously funny. “How can you make a journey and not know where you are or where you should be?”

Asaddan sniffed. “Not all journeys have an obvious destination. We are where we are, and we will be wherever we go.”

“Then you've arrived.” The diver laughed. “Welcome to Lahjar.”