The Last Lowlander

Book 2 Chapter 2: The City on the Water

There was a stir under Yurig's pillow and, as a reflex, he slammed his open palm behind his head and caught a rat trying to nestle under his head. He squeezed his hand so tight he could feel all the bones crunching beneath the rodent's skin as it screeched. Yurig hurled it against the wall where it thudded and fell to the ground.

"Shear me," he growled. He pulled off his sweat soaked head cloth and dragged his fingernails against his scalp. He could feel the dirt and grease and dead skin collect under his nails. He ruffled his hair. The air was thick with standing heat in the ship's hull. Yurig had somehow landed himself as a do-all for the unelected governor. Truth was the new governor subsumed power after Jagged Daniels "fell" off his boat in a "drunken" stupor.

A shipmate awoke nearby. Ply was his name. He snorted and grunted and rolled over and looked at Yurig. "Got any pej?" Ply asked.

Yurig ignored him, making for a makeshift window that had been cut into the hull of their quarters. He stuck his head through the space in the sweaty wooden wall and peered at the sea below them. Dark water lapped up just above the keel. Yurig turned his head upward. The edges of the done-up sails fluttered in the wind. He saw the undersides of planks of wood connecting the governor's ship to all the surrounding boats.

"Yurig!" Ply said, throwing his boot at Yurig's back. When the boot hit Yurig, he yanked his head back inside and stormed toward Ply. Ply recoiled and held his hands up in fear. Yurig grabbed him by the wrists and held them against the edge of his cot and then punched him ferociously twice in the face. Ply squealed in fear and pain as his head thumped from the blows.

"What? What do you want?" Yurig said. He let go of Ply and then hit him again in the solar plexus with a hammerfist. Ply lost his breath from the blow and wept into his pillow.

"I just wanted," Ply started. He took a staggered, painful breath, "to know if you had any pej." Yurig closed his eyes and sat on his cot across from the Ply.

"Maybe. I think you know what you have to do for it," Yurig said as he peeled his slimy shirt off and threw it to his bedside. Ply pondered his words for a moment and then slinked off his bed and worked himself between Yurig's legs and grabbed his waistband.

"Not that, idiot," Yurig said. He slapped Ply's hands away and held out his hand for money.

"You know I don't got no money," Ply said. His eyes pleaded pathetically. Yurig fingered at a sore tooth in his mouth.

"Find some, beggar," Yurig said. He reached among the rags and withdrew a little bag. Ply saw the bag and immediately went to fill his clay cup from a large jug by the door of their room. He ran back, splashing water down his arm.

"Please, Yurig, just a bit. Just a bit to help me find some money for ya," Ply said. He kneeled again. Yurig twisted his face as though he were pondering his offer.

"No," Yurig said. He slapped the cup from Ply's hand. Yurig stood up and stuffed the bag into his pants and walked out of the room, clutching his head as he did so. Ply cried out to him as the door shut.

"Infernal addict," Yurig said. A vicious chill shook through his body and then he started to sweat. Yurig put his jaw in his hand and pushed it to the side until his neck popped. "Idiot," he said with his eyes closed. He stomped down the hall until he got to the staircase up to the second floor. He thumped each step loud enough so that the hoors on the second floor woke up. "Wake up, chumps!" Yurig yelled. The governor's harem rolled from their beds just as he reached the top stair—just as they always did—and started to throw on clothes. "Get up, get up, get up!" Yurig said to the women as they drew their garters up while sitting in their hammocks.