The ship pulled into Haeven harbor amid a rioting crowd. Jaron and Dak led their horses off the ship and watched as the crew struggled to unload its cargo of wine, live animals and other supplies and bring them to the waiting wagons. Soldiers armed with swords and whips prevented the villagers from climbing onto the wagons and stealing the goods.
“They seem desperate,” Dak said, trying to shake off the seasickness that he had suffered during the four-day journey. He never wanted to see another ship again, even if it meant he would never return home.
“They are,” an old fisherman said.
“Pardon?” Jaron turned to the old man twisting rope in his boat.
The old fisherman didn’t seem in much better shape than the others. His clothes were ragged and soiled. Jaron didn’t attempt to guess by
