Trouble in Trelle (Hektor's Story)

Hektor always had a fondness for the smell of the sea air. He wondered how long it had been since he saw the ocean. The sounds of a busy harbor baking in the afternoon sun had a certain charm to them too. The croaking gulls, the shouts of the dock workers in a myriad of dialects. Ships of different types bearing a menagerie of figureheads and colors of all the major ports like Gasteiz and Petit Pierre. He wished he had a little more time in town. Fishing off the pier for a day or two would definitely be a nice break even if the others were tired of their pescatarian diet from the past several days. If it ended up taking a few days to get the ship ready, maybe he could take the girls out for a lark. Hektor amused himself thinking about Chloe trying to rein in a wriggling snapper before the day's task snapped him back to reality.

“Business really has been booming these days, Cousin Hektor.” Proclaimed Max Tumlin as he confidently strode through the harbor. Despite his small stature he stood tall amongst the burly dockworkers and sailors scurrying to and fro, all giving the two Tumlins a wide berth. “Yes, first we had Baron Tom out East to thank for lifting the family fortunes. He really knew how to pick a winner with that Count who turned Strumhelm around. Then of course, you know Auntie Mona and Cousin Roscoe are key players in that pirate operation around Cape Coda.”

“Figures those kind of roles on both ends would be good for you,” Hektor replied with a shrug.

“Right they are, right they are Cousin Hektor!” Max said as he slapped Hektor on the back.

Max peeled off from their conversation a moment to talk with a group of dock workers while Hektor leaned against a railing to take in the ocean view. That shining silver sea was at least a lot more pleasant than Cousin Max, who was forgetting the family values that made the Tumlin Family so well-liked across Argos. He remembered a talk long ago with Pawpaw Roland. About how money comes and goes, but honor and a strong family name are the foundation for generations of wealth. Roland was fond of a comparison to the difference between a good wife and a woman of ill repute Hektor didn't imagine his current companions would like as much.

The sad thing was he'd run into Baron Tom since the promotion and even he didn't act like this. Hektor respected him like most of the family because the title seemed to make him even more grounded and humble. Though Uncle Dorian did tell him some wild tales of Tom in his youth, and of course he earned that title on the battlefield felling a giant toad monster with his trusty throwing hatchet. “Maybe it's those same skills that made him so big that made him better able to handle it.” Hektor thought to himself.

So where did Max get this attitude from? Hektor figured the upper crust of Trelle society was the culprit. Last time he stopped by the city Max wasn't exactly a common laborer but he'd clearly been bumped up a few rungs on the ladder from the name alone. Still, he had a mission here today. Mrs. Agnes needs a ship, Hektor had a debt to pay, and that meant teaching Max a thing or two about humility would need to wait. That could come up at the next family reunion. Even if Hektor really wanted to clock Max for what felt like going out of his way to berate honest dockworkers.

Hektor was caught up in reminiscing about how much easier it was when they were kids. Adult problems had that rude element of not being able to be solved with a simple bop on the head. Max was done berating the poor longshoreman and was bounding back to Hektor. “Sorry about that, Cousin.” He said in a cheery tone like he wasn't just insulting someone trying to make a living. “Have to have a firm hand to keep things running smoothly. Now, why don't we step in my office and talk about this business of yours.” Max stopped in front of a warehouse and beckoned Hektor up a set of stairs running along the side to a second-floor balcony. He made a big show of flipping through the several keys he carried on a gold ring before selecting one and opening the door.

The harbormaster's office was posh, with maps spread out over a stately desk and big window giving a great view of his domain. Not that Max really understood the ins and outs of shipping lanes and customs law, Hektor surmised. Max opened an ornate box and drew out a large cigar, lighting it with a device Hektor had never seen before that produced a small flame in his hands. The gesture reminded Hektor who he was here for.

“Tell me about this trip of yours again, Hek.” Max said as he puffed on his cigar. The acrid smell filling the room.

“Right,” Hektor recounted. “I need to charter a ship for me and my two companions. Just over to Vinvintin. We don't mind earning our keep and Agnes is a pretty capable mage. I'm not asking for charity here.”

Another few puffs on the cigar and a pregnant pause before Max asked, “And what the heck do you need to do in Vinvintin? Place is a dump. She a new teacher at the college or something?”

Hektor began to recount the story but had a moment of clarity about how silly his situation sounded to outsiders. Though he still believed honesty was the best policy, offering simply “Ms. Agnes, I owe her dearly. She's making a sojurn into Giant Country and I've agreed to be her escort.”

Max laughed obnoxiously to the point he choked on his cigar smoke. “Fine, fine...if you don't want to tell me the real reason you don't have to. That little old lady taking down the great one-eyed Giant King or something? Whatever your reasons, take a look outside. See that brigantine with the mermaid figurehead?”

Hektor walked over to the window and spotted the ship Max was referring to right away. Just as described, it looked like a fine ship that could take them to Vinvintin swiftly. Even if Max was forgetting himself a little at least family was still family. “Looks great! How soon can she ship out?”

Max leaned forward in his chair and rummaged through some papers. “Uncle Dorian sent word telling me a bit about you coming. Pahari's ready to go when you are. It'll take the two of you to Vinvintin by the end of the week.”

Hektor was overjoyed. “Yes! Thank you so much Max! Wait...two? There's three of us, that won't be a problem will it?”

“I'm afraid it is,” Max said with a sigh as he turned his chair away from Hektor. “Are you familiar with the Taronites, Cousin Hektor?”

“Taronites?”

“That other one you were traveling with. Nasty business really, but I can't let you leave here with the heir to one of the most influential families in Trelle.”