Whill of Agora: Book 1 by Michael Ploof (early reader books txt) 📖

Whill wondered what business Abram was tending to. He was a little disappointed that his friend would not be at the docks; today began the building of his ship. He finished washing and dressed. After a small breakfast he headed to the Fendale Bank, on horseback, and withdrew enough gold to pay Freston in advance and buy Abram a gift. After stowing the gold in his saddlebags, he headed for Freston’s house. Making his way down Fendale’s main street, he felt as though he was being watched. Since the tournament, many people recognized him as he passed by; he gave rise to many hushed whispers and pointing fingers wherever he went, and some children even asked for his signature. But this was not the feeling of adoring fans watching him. It was more like the feeling he had in the woods before the wolves attacked. 

He stopped his horse and looked around. Rain fell softly on the cobblestones as a woman shook a rug from a second-story window. Only a small crowd moved about the fairly quiet street; three children hurried after two women; men on horseback rode by, talking loudly; a kid pulling a wheel cart ran past. The strange feeling did not ebb as Whill searched for its source. He began to ride again, slightly faster now.

The feeling followed him all the way to Freston’s door. Once inside, he peered out through its small window. A lone horseman slowly rode by, coming from the same direction that Whill had. He could not determine whether the man had been following him, for he looked straight ahead and showed no interest in the house.

“Are you ready to begin work on your beauty?”

Whill jumped. The old man looked at him oddly. “Are you alright, Whill?”

“Uh, yeah, fine, a little jumpy. I brought payment for the ship.” He handed over the heavy bag of gold coins. “That is the agreed-upon amount.”

Freston’s eyes grew wide as he felt the weight of the gold. “You know, you could have just transferred the gold from your vault to mine.”

Whill felt like an idiot. “I’m sorry, it didn’t cross my mind. I should have assumed that a man such as you would have his own vault. Now I feel like a genuine ass.”

“No matter,” assured Freston. “But you shouldn’t travel the city with so much gold. There isn’t a person in Fendale who doesn’t know about your victory—or your generosity. You have become a target of bandits and thieves already, I’m sure. But they will not be bold enough to try to rob you here in the city. They will wait until you set sail.”

“I could just leave the money here in Fendale.”

“That you could, but they will assume you have the gold on you anyway. Your best bet is to trade whatever gold you might take for jewels, which are much easier to carry and less difficult to conceal. As for setting sail, I would ask for a naval escort if I were you.”

Whill pondered the situation. “Maybe you’re right. Would Lord Rogus grant such an escort?” 

“He could spare at least one ship, I’m sure. Don’t worry yourself about it. Abram has been through worse than a pirate raid. I’m sure he is prepared for such things.” Freston smiled reassuringly. “Now let’s see how my boys are coming with the frame.”

Whill followed Freston the short distance to the dock entrance. There were many ways to get to the docks; at least twenty passages led from different parts of the city down into the great cave. They headed down a wide spiral stairway lit by large torches mounted every few feet. As they descended, Whill’s excitement increased. He had, of course, read about the great cave-harbor of Fendale, and had even seen elaborate drawings of it in many books. Now he was having his own ship built there. They reached the end of the stairway and Whill beheld the great harbor.

The cave was bigger than Whill had envisioned—at least a half a mile across, as far as he could tell. Its ceiling was more than two hundred feet high in some places. Light from the sun, along with the ocean waters, came in through four great gates carved out of the cave wall and reflected off its shiny mineral rich surface. He guessed the distance from the back wall to the gates was about a thousand feet. It was hard to believe that above them sat the great city of Fendale. Within the immense cave there were over a hundred ships docked. The harbor was abuzz with movement. There were fisherman unloading their latest catch from giant nets and merchants loading their cargo for distant cities of Agora. Others unloaded cargo that had just been imported to the city, carrying large bags of grain or hauling large barrels from the decks.

Whill was in awe. He followed Freston to where his ship was being built, and noticed a large section of the docks that was for use only by the royal navy. Great warships the likes of which he had only seen in books loomed overhead. They were massive, nearly three hundred feet long. Down the large ramps of some came soldiers in full armor, while on others, soldiers were boarding to spend a few months patrolling the great ocean. It was a very emotional sight; while the returning soldiers were greeted by their loved ones—with open arms and many hugs and kisses—the departing soldiers endured the tears of theirs. Women and children waved and blew kisses as one of the ships launched, the great many large oars protruding from its lower sides rowing in perfect unison. Freston stopped and bowed his head as the women began the farewell song. Taking his lead, Whill did the same as the voices of the women rose to the ceiling and echoed throughout the vast harbor.