“What will you do now?” she inquired of the silent herdsman.
He did not turn to look at her, but instead kept his gaze on the immense chalky headland. “As I told you before we set out on this crossing, I am bound by personal covenant to journey to a land called Ehl-Larimar, there to seek out a woman called the Visioness Themaryl, and return her to her family in Laconda. Ehl-Larimar lies to the west of here, so it seems I must keep traveling west.” Shifting his attention from the imposing headland, he smiled down at her. “I have already been too long away from home. I hope I do not have to travel so far west that I meet myself coming.”
She laughed, caught herself, and choked slightly on the unusual reaction. “That’s silly, Etjole. Nobody can meet themselves coming.”
With a sigh, he returned his attention to the place where the incoming swells shattered themselves against the white ramparts. “It depends how far west one has to go, and what one means by ‘west.’ This Doroune, is it as big as Hamacassar?”
She shook her head. “Haven’t been that far inland—the crew and I keep pretty much to the harbor because that’s where both our business and recreational interests lie. But from all that I’ve seen and heard on previous trips, it’s a much smaller place. Most of the coastal towns we visit and trade with are like that. Transit points for goods from farther inland. They don’t get many visitors from across the Semordria.” She grinned confidently. “Everyone knows only fools and imbeciles dare attempt the ocean crossing.”