Bastian peered over the rail and out onto the shores of Membentuk. A crowd had gathered around the houses that were built on stilts. The waves lapped the beaches in their repetitive fashion.
"It's beautiful." Hydrangea stated beside him. He nodded, his gaze raising to the mountains behind the outer islands.
"They are a different culture." He said as he recalled the many things he'd had to learn when he'd first visited the island country.
"How different?" She asked and he grinned at the hesitancy in her voice.
He gave her hand a squeeze, "Not so different that you have to worry, my flower." Her cheeks turned the rosy hue they always did when he called her that. Clearing his throat, he answered her seriously, "The most drastic distinctions are that the women live in separate places, the servants live in the cellars and the people have common baths, dining halls, living and occasionally wives."
He could sense her discomfort and her struggle to form words. "Why?" She finally asked.
He loosed her hand and began to walked to the helm, "It is their way. Many people may also ask why we Cadaramans don't wear head coverings daily, or why we don't have harems for every man, why slaves aren't punished for their dishonour or why we sentence our criminals to death." He paused and watched as she calculated his words, her grey eyes hypnotizing him momentarily.
She glanced up, waiting for him to continue. He did not fail to catch the amusement in her eyes. He cleared his throat and moved up the stairs, grabbing hold of her hand as he did, "Everyone is different, and though we may not agree with their ways, the only way to maintain peace sometimes is to simply look past the differences."
"Like with Selva?" She asked quietly.
His lips thinned and his brow lowered, "Yes… like with Selva." His father had not agreed with the Tlatoani in the least, but they had needed the country's support many times. He did not need it now, however. Selva was an enemy to Cadarama and they gained nothing from keeping their ties with them.
Bastian had already thought of how he would deal with Viskogorny and the uprising there. But dealing with Selva would most likely prove more difficult. Then there was Mathuba—he would have to deal with them first, once he had recovered enough of Cadarama's military and government. He would have to deal with the Sultan.
His heart twisted when he thought of how long he'd already been gone. Two and a half months. How much damage could the Lords do in that time?
"Bastian?"
He blinked and met Hydrangea's curious eyes, "Yes?"
She smiled, "Do you know how long it will take to reach the king and queen?"
"Rajah Alab and his queen, Queen Indah, live in Minga islsa ginta. Their palace is just on the cusp of them and we should reach them by the end of the day."
"What does that mean?" She asked wryly.
He smiled, not quite understanding her tone, "Minga islsa ginta translates roughly to, the centre islands."
She hummed in response and they both watched as the shores moved closer. It was the rainy season so the skies were a murky grey instead of their usual clear blue. The palm and jungle trees waved from the small islands. All of the little green spots were ringed with white sand that looked dimmer than it usually did with the gloomy weather.
Bastian breathed deeply and squinted his eyes when he felt the shift. The place, called a paradise, felt cold and off. He didn't like it. He grasped Hydrangea's hand tighter when he saw the fishing boats. They popped up in swarms, behind the swells of waves and the peaks of treetops and mountains.
The crew silenced and Bastian knew they sensed it too. The disquiet. The fishermen all watched the Venerable with dead eyes. "Bastian, what's wrong?"
His brow furrowed and he looked at Panloob namaa isla before them; the larger islands looming over them with their rice paddies and banana groves. The wind tossed his hair across his brow. "I'm not sure." He muttered in answer to Hydrangea.
The Venerable floated forward through the strait and the eerie feeling only fell heavier. They all watched as the shores of Minga islsa ginta came closer to them, the silent fishing boats increasing in number. The occupants pointed at them and a few returned to the shore, but most just drifted by.
When they finally reached the solid ground of Membentuk, his stomach flipped like it always did when ground was so close after a long journey. Bentukis began swarming the dock and Bastian turned his head, "Hugh—" His voice died in his throat and he swallowed thickly before shouting, "Weigh anchor!"
The crew snapped from their gaze and scrambled to fulfill his order. He heard the clinking of the chain as the anchor was released and felt as the Venerable rebelled momentarily against the restraint before settling in.
As soon as they stepped from the gang plank they were greeted by the dock master, the kepala dok. He shouted a greeting in Bentuki before asking in the same language, "Why have you come such a long way?"
Bastian grabbed Hydrangea's hand and answered, "We've come seeking help from your king."
"Ah…" He exhaled and his dark eyes darted for a moment before he smiled broadly, and said, "Well, we welcome you to The Island Kingdom. And we hope you enjoy your stay."
Bastian smiled back and bowed, same as the dock master. "We wish to have passage to the palace."
"I see. Follow me and we will get that all figured out." He turned around and began walking down the sturdy wooden dock. Bastian and Hydrangea followed, a few of their crew also tagging along.
Rodas and the majority of them were to stay with the ship. Aidana was accompanying them, but secretly. She'd insisted on staying in the shadows and following them as they made their way to the Rajah.