Page 59 of Requiem of Silence

“Come on,” Varten said, rising and moving quickly. Zeli kept up with his pace, though he remained mindful of her shorter legs. A middle-aged, brown-haired sailor stood at the ramp to the yacht when they approached, a stack of crates at his feet.

“Hey there,” Varten said. “Do you accept passengers?”

“Go away,” the man said gruffly in accented Elsiran.

“I was just—”

“I said…” The man looked up sharply, then his gaze locked onto Zeli. She stiffened and slid closer to Varten. The sailor tilted his head. “Passengers, you say? Not sure my boss would take kindly to that, but he doesn’t have to know everything, does he?” He winked and grinned exclusively at Zeli.

“Ah, that’s all right, mate,” Varten said, sliding a protective arm around her. “Wouldn’t want to risk you getting in trouble or losing your job.” He backed away, pulling her with him.

“No trouble at all,” the sailor said, laughing rudely. “How much for her?”

Her small, trembling hand gripped his back. “She’s a person, she’s not for sale,” Varten said through gritted teeth.

“I mean, how much are you paying her? We could use someone to scrub up, empty the latrines, things like that.”

“We’re not looking for work,” Varten said, still moving slowly backward.

“Grolshave strong backs, there’s lots of work to be had here, and they don’t charge much. I can offer five pieces a week, plus a finder’s fee for your trouble.”

Two more sailors appeared on the yacht’s deck, both large and grizzled. Their cold eyes looked at Zeli like property, just another good to be sold. One of the men grinned in a manner that made Varten suspect scrubbing toilets wasn’t the only work they would expect of her.

He swung her around. “Let’s go.”

“Aye, not so fast there. We’re offering good money for honest work.”

Varten snorted, looking over his shoulder at the men. The two on the deck were headed down the ramp to stand side by side with their coworker. The move seemed aggressive, and he hoped the sailors wouldn’t try to chase them. Varten hadn’t been in many fights and knew he couldn’t take on all three of them.

A Lagrimari man appeared by their side with a wrench in his hand. He didn’t say anything but glared at the sailors. He was maybe thirty, clean shaven with a bald head.

The sailors stared back, then a call from the deck of the yacht grabbed their attention. A man in a captain’s uniform stood looking at the scene. “I’m paying you to get the ship ready, not to converse with ruffians.” The captain stared down his nose at them and the sailors complied, the first one leering once more before going back to his duties.

Varten turned to the Lagrimari man. “Thank you.”

The man raised a brow, likely at Varten’s command of the language, and then nodded his head. “Someone over there wants to meet you.”

Varten tensed. It wasn’t impossible that he’d been recognized, though he would have expected it more in an environment full of aristocrats than here on the docks. The man led them down a few berths to a small fishing ship where two more Lagrimari stood, a man and a woman.

Zeli gasped. “Yalisa?” She began running toward the woman, who grabbed her in a bear hug. “I can’t believe it’s you, are you all right?”

Yalisa was quite possibly the most beautiful woman Varten had ever seen. Her skin was luminous, and her short hair was a small puff.

“Your hair, did they make you cut it?” Zeli asked, patting the woman’s head.

Yalisa smiled. “It’s good to see you, too,uli.”

Zeli wrapped her in another embrace, resting her head on Yalisa’s shoulder. Varten looked on in wonder at Zeli’s obvious joy.

Yalisa smiled at him over Zeli’s head. “And who is your friend?”

Zeli finally pulled back, wiping her eyes, but didn’t let go. “Oh, this is Varten. Varten, Yalisa, I’ve known her almost all my life.”

Yalisa nodded in his direction as greeting. “This is my brother, Eskar-yol.” She pointed to the man who had come to help them. “And this is Lanar-deni. We met a few days ago in the camp.” They were all of a similar age, though the second man was prematurely gray and looked taciturn by nature. He nodded solemnly. Knotted locks threaded with silver and tied back in a queue reached his midback.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Zeli said with surprise and turned wondrous eyes at Eskar.

“I was sent to the camps as a child and then recruited into the army. Been in Elsira since the Seventh Breach.” Eskar’s voice was soft and scratchy. He seemed like a man of few words.

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