The ship was close enough now and I gathered myself for the leap, although, once again, Lord Artos’s hand
lifted to forestall me. But I knew my own abilities, even with all my limitations being shouted out in a litany.
I landed safely, whipping the line around the bollard and securing it in the bowline as I had been taught. I was rather pleased with myself, actually, since the jump had been wider than usual. When I looked back to see if Lord Artos approved of my feat, my chest swelled a bit to see him nod. Then I noticed that both Bericus and Bwlch looked less wan and pale. The ship still rocked in the current, but the fact that they were securely fastened to dry land again must have nearly restored them.
There was the usual bustle at the pier, with hawkers trying to sell fresh food and wine, and others offering their services in unloading cargo. My uncle gave unnecessary orders in a loud voice to impress the landsmen, but he was in no hurry to off-load the bullhides and show the Corellia to be carrying so little of value.
My main duty in landing done, I hovered around Lord Artos and his Companions, helping them with their packs and gear. I was unwilhng to leave their company. Well, his company.
“Galwyn,” my uncle bawled, “make yourself useful for once. Help the lords with their baggage. And lead them to the Golden Swan. It’s the only place in the port that would suit friends of Prince Cador’s. Go with them so the landlord knows he’s to give them his best… Only thing you are good for,” he went on, though not as loudly, “is cackling in whatever it is they speak here! How you know what’s what from all that gabble, I wouldn’t know.”
He shook his finger at me. “See that you listen well and make sure this Comes is well taken care of. You hear me, now, Galwyn.”
“Yes, uncle … Of course, uncle … I understand, uncle,” I said whenever I could insert a word. I tried not to give away how happy I was to carry out that order. It wouldn’t suit Gralior to think he had me doing something I wanted to do.
Then my uncle, all obsequious, bowed Lord Artos and his Companions down the plank that served to connect ship to shore.
“The lad knows the way, Lord Artos, and the rough speech that’s all the landlord of the Swan can manage. Not a civil word in that man’s head, but Galwyn will let him know that he will have no more of my trade if he does not give you of his best.” Then, almost snarling at me because Bericus, Bwlch, and the others were picking up their own travel gear-“Take the packs, Galwyn. Help them. Don’t just stand there with both arms the same length. You’re not a spoiled juvenile now. You work for your living.”
Scooting out of the way of my uncle’s heavy-sandaled foot, I tried to take one of the packs from Lord Artos, but his hand restrained me.
“Lead on, Galwyn, lad, there’s a good fellow,” the Comes said, and gave me a gentle push.
I caught one glimpse of Gralior scowling at me and hoped that he would have recovered by the time I returned. Perhaps, I thought traitorously, lean delay.
“And come you right back, Galwyn. There’s cargo to unload,” my uncle shouted just as we reached the first dwellings.
WELL, THE GOLDEN SWAN was a distance from the harbor. Even my uncle had to admit that, and I could always say that it took me a while to get the landlord to understand exactly what was needed.
In truth, I knew the local dialect so well that I had no trouble at all making Landlord Ercus understand that these guests were men of quality and rank. Besides, any fool could have seen that in a glance, and Ercus was no fool.
“My uncle, the good Gralior,” I began tactfully, “said that only your inn would serve the Comes Britannorum and his Companions. You do have rooms available?”
“Of a certainty I do, young Galwyn,” Ercus said, for he could be as tactful as I. “And as good a meal as any could ask for after a sea voyage.”