Espectro stopped in his paces and looked at Father Halo. The man was gaunt, feverish, probably malnourished in his time of confinement. Long ago were the days of the barrel-chested fire-breathing cleric that would preach the Orthodoxy of the New Gods. This did not sit well with Espectro.
“Father, I need to know if you’re able to travel a long journey.”
“Eh? How long is long? I can probably make to Pemberton and back by saddle. If you’re asking me to skip down to western mountains as fast as you’re prancing, I’ll probably wear out. Yeah, I’ll wear out. Why?”
Espectro sighed. “I’m afraid our journey is going to be a long one. We’re looking to head to the city of Hannon. Now come, let’s hurry up. We need to get to the stables before word gets out to the local bishop that we’ve sprung their fugitive priest.”
With that Espectro proceeded his brisk pace to the center of town, with Father Halo scrambling to keep up.
“I’m coming, by the New Gods, I’m coming!”
They quickly passed the marketplace of the town. The stalls were filling up slowly, but it was clear the marketplace had seen better days. Gone were the rare spices from the east and the valued silks of Cheq-tan. Now there were only the artists hawking local staples – pewtersmiths, glass-blowers, local cheese mongers and millers of rough cloth. At special prices one could see a rarity of the Age – an ivory set of knightsgame from Arl, astrolabes from Isaria, or even Ragusan steel. Few buyers nowadays flocked to fewer rarities, and so the treasures became less and less seen on the streets of the city. Espectro moved through the crowds like an eel in water, and Father Halo had nearly lost him several times.
Finally, at the edges of the marketplace, Father caught up with Espectro. "
Hannon? Well, it’s not only across the continent, it’s under water! Drowned years ago from a powerful tsunami. What’s the use?”
“ I have it on good authority it not only is intact, but its residents are in need of help.”
Father Halo chuckled. “I’m sure they are. They’ll need gills and plenty of towels and a new place to dry out. Look, Espectro, I appreciate you releasing me from my prison, but my imprisonment was just. I deserved to be locked away as a heretic. I am working on something important, something celestially brilliant, and I need to keep at it. Prison’s not a bad place for a old priest to wile away on his theocracy.”
“And I will gladly let you rot there when we’re done!” snapped Espectro.
Father Halo opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped. Was it ever useful to argue with Espectro? He sighed and looked around the city skyline. Banners of ships from the Ragusa, Imperial Chet, and the Duchy of Arl hung limply in the distant city harbor.
“It is said that it took Father Capathius five years to travel from Arl to the city of Hannon, and that was when the Imperial Cheq-tan Empire was at peace from internal strife and the Spice Roads lined with their outposts. Nowadays, travel between the Ragusa and Arl can take the better half of a season. The only way to get to your drowned city within our lifetime is to avoid the roads and take to the seas. We’ll need a ship.”
Espectro shook his head. “I’m afraid we need to collect one more comrade before we commence. Fortunately he is on the way. Unfortunately, he is deep within the continent, so sea travel will have to be done after we get him.”
Father Halo furrowed his bushy eyebrows. “ We’ll need native guides, guards, translators, a cook, quartermaster, at least a dozen or so slaves to handle the animals and prepare the way….” Father Halo petered out his list as he saw Espectro look at him silently.
“Just us, eh? Oh, well that simplifies plenty then! And here I was worried this was going to be a long journey.”
“Just five years to get there, according to your Father Carpathius, "replied Espectro.
“Hardly! We’ll be dead long before we enter the western mountains by next winter!” Father Halo laughed.
