The next morning, I headed down to the river separating the school from the adjacent village, to find a few river boats already moored by the stone bridge crossing it. It would still be a few hours before all the boats were due arrive, so the early birds were making themselves comfortable for now.

  I headed over to greet them and, when they didn’t raise any issues, I joined them in settling in to wait, whilst Fluminix went between the boats to sniff them curiously.

  The Fides River was calm on this late winter day. Its flow was fast enough that it wouldn’t have frozen over, even if temperatures were to drop below freezing for a longer period of time. It started somewhere in the Arxine Mountains in the south and flowed all the way to the Mediarene Sea in the north, where, around the island in its mouth, Portisola was built.

  Whilst I ruminated about the river and the geography of the Umbrean peninsula, the rest of the boats slowly trickled in. Altogether, we were departing on twenty river boats of various lengths. Which was about all the river boats that sailed the river, ferrying people and cargo between Mazliach and Mirhadd farther south, here and Portisola.

  By the time the last boat moored to the grassy side of the river, most of the accompanying teachers and some of the students had already started to gather on the field between the river and the school grounds. More importantly, the adventurers had gathered, and their leaders would need to be greeted properly.

  However, before I could go about my organisational duties, one of the river boat merchants approached me.

  “Mis–” he started, before I cut him off.

  “Morgana will do just fine,” I said matter-of-factly.

  He cleared his throat to cover up his startle at being interrupted. “Very well, Mis– I mean, Morgana. There’s something I needed to address before we are to set off.”

  I raised a rather challenging eyebrow, and I noticed his Mazliach colleagues shake their heads in astonishment. One of them even turned around and returned to her boat. “Which is?”

  He cleared his throat again. “Well, the thing is… I’m afr–”

  “No,” I cut him off again, this time with an annoyed frown set on my face. “Prices are final and non-negotiable. You signed the contract, and therefore you’ll follow the contract. I’ve been more than fair setting my prices, paying you more than you normally would earn. If you want to back out now, then I suggest you first read the contract again.”

  In it, he would, as he probably already knew, find that backing out of the contract would allow Paideia to seize his boat for the entire duration of the field trip, thereby forfeiting any income he could have had from it during the departure and return trip. Someone from the Mirhadd Merchant Guild looked like she wanted to renegotiate as well, but upon seeing the Mazliach merchant getting dressed down, she gave up on trying.

  Which left me to go over to the adventurers and explain to them in detail what would be expected of them and how I wanted them divided over the boats. Considering we had twenty river boats and twenty adventurers, it wasn’t all that difficult. I just had to make sure the division was tactically sound.

  With that done, and all nine hundred seventy-two students and thirty-six teachers having assembled, it was finally time for everyone to climb on board and set off.

  *******

  With a steady pace, and without any interruptions, we made it to Portisola in good time, arriving before the sun could start to set. The stone and plaster, multistorey buildings that dotted the shores and the island made for a lovely view, especially with their red-tiled roofs and with plastered walls having been painted in vibrant colours.

  Not that I cared much for it, having seen it countless times before. However, plenty of students stared in fascination at the sight, especially those that came from more… pastoral regions.

  The river boats docked at the harbour, not far from where eight tarides lay waiting for us, making it an easy transfer over. Less herding of students was required.

  Unfortunately, not everything was going swimmingly, as, apparently, merchant captains shared a similar instinct as their river merchant counterparts. Only gruffier and more weatherworn.

  “Sorry, but I don’t transport liches,” the captain of the trading galley I was about to board said with his arms crossed and a couple of his sailors blocking the gangway up. Sometimes, life was really tempting me to just… ignore everyone else and do whatever I wanted.

  Instead, I took a calming breath. “Captain Bolívar, I as–”

  “And no dragons either,” he rudely interrupted me, as he eyed Fluminix threateningly.

  I needed a couple of calming breaths now, taking long enough for an uncomfortable, tense atmosphere to develop between us. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted guards approaching with a person dressed in such a way that one would immediately know they were important in some way.

  “Mister Bolívar,” I tried again, this time more rudely and insistently, to which his eye twitched. “I’m not seeking to board you, merely to offer my agreed upon services to enchant your ship. None of the assigned teachers to the group of students that are to board your ship are capable of adequately carving out the enchantment offered. Therefore, I’m coming aboard to handle this.”

  For a moment it looked like neither of us were going to give way to the other, before he sighed heavily and stepped aside, motioning his sailors to do the same. “Alright, do your work. But the dragon stays.”

  “No,” I said, as I walked past him with slightly hurried steps. “She comes with me.”

  Having passed that hurdle, and with Fluminix sticking close to me, I quickly set about engraving his ship with an enchantment that would allow it to sail faster by easing the parting of water in front of it. Complicated work to plan for, easy to execute. If one knew what they were doing.

  A mere few minutes later, I walked down the gangway to the docks to meet the next problem that had arisen. The Portisolan Port Authority. The official had a good twenty guards with them. It was hard to say if it was to show they meant serious business, or if it was a mere intimidation tactic. Probably the latter.

  “Morgana,” they started politely, but insistently. “I believe it had been made perfectly clear to you that Portisola strongly objects to your continual disruption to the natural flow of trade in the region. Therefore, I must insist that you gather your entourage and return where you came from.”

  Colour me impressed, and surprised, they actually made an effort to shut the field trip down. I’d honestly thought they would leave it at the strongly worded letter I’d received from them.

  “Furthermore,” they weren’t done yet, apparently. “The transportation of exotic animals is strictly forbidden in the Serene Republic of Portisola, and all such animals are to be confiscated. I’d also advise you to stop interfering with the business of any vessels with your impositions.”

  Now, that, was taking things too far. Calling Fluminix an exotic animal like that. Some long forgotten maternal instinct in me almost, almost made me lash out. But I didn’t, because I was a civilized woman that didn’t throw thinly veiled hatred around. I didn’t discriminate towards the living, now, did I? Rude bastards.

  “Very well,” I started with an overly polite smile. “Just give us a moment, and we’ll be out of your hair, and off your docks. I can assure you that my dear Fluminix, here, is merely my travelling companion. Though, I do agree with you, that she’s exotically adorable.”

  The dragon in question had stopped cowering behind my legs, and had taken to sniffing the various crates, ropes and other knickknacks placed about the docks. Occasionally, she would sniff and scare a passerby, though.

  “Now,” I continued with a serene calm. “You are certainly within your right to refuse passage to anyone you deem unwelcome or a threat. Just as you’re welcome to inform the heads of your great patrician families why their family members are suddenly without an education.”

  They gulped and their accompanying guards were either gulping along or casting the official bemused looks. Still, they did their best to look unperturbed. “W-Well, I suppose it would be best for me to confer with my superior, before we can make any final decisions.”

  I nod with an all too pleased smile. “Glad to know Portisola has such reasonable people working for them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to be off.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  With that, I walked past them and their guards. They made a half-hearted attempt to stop me from boarding the galley – the oddly named Gentle Breeze – I would be taking, but I ignored them. I wondered if they were feeling so emboldened because last time I travelled through here, I meekly nodded along?

  After I’d settled in the bow of the ship, alongside a curled-up Fluminix, and with everyone boarded – the ships having gained their fresh enchantments – we finally set off for the next leg of the journey. Regardless of any protestations made by the Portisolan Port Authority.

  *******

  Luckily the captain of the galley I sailed on was not nearly as grumpy as the one that tried to refuse to let me aboard. Instead, Captain Pappa was a talkative woman, and an excellent dining companion. Not that I partook in any eating, mind you.

  Still, it meant that our weeklong journey across the Mediarene Sea passed pleasantly and swimmingly. We did pass through a few storm fronts, but they were nothing a quick bit of spellwork couldn’t make irrelevant.

  By the end of the week, we’d come in sight of land again. However, much to many a student’s dismay, this did not hail the end of our journey. This was, instead, the narrowing strip of landmass that separated the Mediarene Sea from the Kyanean Sea. At the landmass’ narrowest point was the strait that both connected the two seas and marked the border between the Argithean and Mitarian continents. The former being the landmass to the north of the Mediarene Sea, and the latter to the east.

  The journey through the Lycoporus Strait took us most of the night, and, come morning, we were greeted with the sight of the ancient city of Lycaonium. According to the myth surrounding both the founding of the city and the naming of the strait, they were both named after a man who was turned into a wolfkin by the Gods. There was some disagreement on whether it was as punishment or as a blessing. I had my own opinion on the matter.

  If students were impressed with the sight of Portisola, they were doubly so at the sight of Lycaonium. The city was a sprawling metropolis that served as both a major trade hub and a guardian between the two seas. While Portisola’s shores were lined with multistorey buildings, Lycaonium’s were rarely taller than two, and even that was less common than single storey buildings.

  Red tiles lined the roofs, while white marble columns lined the front, and sometimes the back as well, of the most prominent buildings. The walls were predominantly white, though some had been painted in a light shade of yellow. Defensive walls marked the current, and previous, borders of the city proper. Walls that were said to have never been breached. Which, as far as I knew, was true, since Vespera had invaded the city from within.

  As we docked – this time without being hassled by Port Authority – the city’s cosmopolitan nature became abundantly clear, as we’d been docked right next to one of the city’s marketplaces. It was a blend of market stalls and shopfronts, as one would find in Argithea, and a bazaar, that were a common sight in the southwestern parts of Mitaria.

  Since the ships would remain docked for most of the day to resupply, the students were given leave to go ashore and stretch their legs. Something that was very much appreciated by all those that had been seasick during the crossing.

  I browsed the wares offered around the marketplace for a little while with Fluminix but mainly remained close to the ships. Someone had to give the appearance that this was an organised trip. Besides, they’d nothing to offer me that caught my attention, aside from a few books, which is.

  I spent my time idling and coordinating between the adventurers, the captains and the few teachers that came to me with issues that had arisen and other such things. Whilst I was busy with all that, Fluminix, who was initially being a scaredy cat, had become more confident and bolder, exploring the ships and the nearby parts of the marketplace all on her own. I made sure to keep an eye on her, though, as I didn’t trust her to remain safe.

  Luckily, nothing bad happened and everyone boarded again. However, before we could set sail again, one of the teachers of another galley ran over to the Gentle Breeze.

  “Morgana!” Sabina, one of the accompanying enchantment teachers, shouted at me, whilst huffing and puffing. The woman could do with some exercise. “We’re missing two! Elouan Meunier and Gigi Lomidze!”

  I said a few choice curses in Versperan at my lack of luck, before I rushed ashore. “Where were they last seen?”

  “Entering an alley in the far corner, there,” she answered, whilst pointing towards the northern end of the marketplace. Which held five different alleys, as far as I could see.

  “I’m on it!” I yelled back, already rushing over to the indicated corner, whilst preparing a tracking spell. It really paid off, at moments like these, to learn everything you could about your student: their scent, their build, their mana signature.

  Rushing through the crowd got me several angry yells thrown my way, and an angry male cowkin tried to grab my arm, but I gave him the slip. I had only one concern, my students’ safety, anybody else be damned.

  I triggered the spell, just as I reached the alleys, causing a burst of multicoloured light that startled aforementioned crowd, and probably ensured the guards were called. People didn’t take kindly to someone setting off grand works of magic in populated centres.

  Thankfully, not that I’d expected anything else, the spell quickly located my missing students, and I rushed into the alleyway that would take me to them. I entered the side alley to the right and came to a sudden halt.

  Really, I should have expected this.

  It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

  Two people go missing together. Teenagers, at that.

  Thankfully, they looked just as startled as me, at having caught them in the middle of having sex. They rushed to separate and get dressed, in a vain attempt at looking innocent.

  I sighed wearily. “Ship now. Next time, don’t do this during a brief stop on a journey, right before you’re supposed to leave.”

  I turned around to give them a bit of privacy, so they could recover. Both from getting caught and from blushing fiercely at me not playing dumb and not scolding them for even having sex. It wasn’t my business.

  Though, I must say, it didn’t look like it could have been enjoyable.

  *******

  Three days later, we, finally, got off at our destination. The ships were docked to the wooden docks of Pontikiz and would soon depart again to ship some goods locally so as to not lose money idling in the ten days we would be here.

  Scurrying towards the docks, making his way between the dockside cuboid warehouses, was a modestly dressed man, signifying his low- to middle-ranked status. He gave us, me specifically, a respectful bow.

  “Greetings, visitors from Paideia,” he said. "The Khan wishes to extend to you her warmest welcome and hopes that your stay will be most fruitful.”

  I nodded towards the Altyn Yalgan official. “Our warmest thanks to the Khan, as well. I hope the site is ready to receive us?”

  “I will pass along your gratitude to the Khan,” he said with a nod, before motioning us to follow him. “We’ve set up an encampment for your use a half morning’s ride north of here. The Qanatl?lar have opted to extend the Khan’s hospitality to you and are eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

  He led us past the warehouses and the wooden hovels beyond them, before we stepped out into a muddy square that was lined with several wooden, yurt-shaped workshops. In the square itself was an open-air bazaar set up and, in an open corner to the north, were several waggons waiting to carry our luggage. We’d be making the trek to the encampment on foot.

  Up on the hill, we could see the local temple, a wooden yurt-shaped building with its southern side left open to the elements. From the distance, one could just about make out the bronze mirrors inside that would reflect the early morning and late afternoon sun to the northern side of the building, where, no doubt, a large sun symbol decorated the wall.

  Between the muddy square and the temple, was the Khan’s palace, a grand building built from wood and combination of circular buildings. At the centre was a – just almost all prominent buildings in the settlement, really – large, wooden, yurt-shaped structure, while on three sides, each cardinal direction except the south, smaller wooden, yurt-shaped structures were attached. The roofs were curved, reminiscent of the style favoured farther east. Unlike all other buildings, this one was painted in brilliant greens and reds, with some golden lining forming images of magical animals.

  Outside of the palisade wall that protected the permanent settlement of Pontikiz, the steppe opened up. While presently it was little more than a brown and barren expanse, if we’d arrived here in late summer or in autumn, it would have been the golden expanse of wild wheat that gave rise to the khanate’s name. That, and the sandy beaches along the shore.

  While some yurts had been set up outside of the settlement proper, it was far less than what would grace the fields when all of the tribes gathered here. Instead, some young men and women were making the most of it and were practicing their mounted martial skills. A couple of them rode closer to either show off, regard us with curiosity, or to sneer at the walking foreigners.

  Come later morning we arrived at the encampment set up for us. Four clusters of eight large yurts were set up, with each cluster protected with a middle-high fence and a path between them to separate the clusters. Each cluster was set up in a different cardinal direction and in the centre was an improvised courtyard with a tarped cooking area.

  Around the clusters of yurts that had been set up, several smaller, more standard sized yurts were placed. The felt covers of the yurts all carrying the same colours and markings, and several banners were put up on standards, each showing an image resembling a horse running on a cloud in the local, traditional art style.

  The official accompanying us rushed ahead and greeted an important looking man, accompanied by two guards and a heavily pregnant woman, with a bow.

  “Greetings, Qanat Be?,” the official said without raising his head, and gesturing towards us. “These are the honoured guests. Once again, the Khan wishes to confer her gratitude for your tribe’s offer to welcome them.”

  Qanat Be? nodded at him, before dismissing him with a wave. Which the official took as his leave to return to the settlement, giving me a polite nod in passing.

  “Greetings, students and teachers of Paideia,” Qanat Be? said, after spreading his arms wide in welcome, a width that matched his smile. “Welcome to the mighty Khanate of Altyn Yalga. While the golden shores elude us in this time of year, the golden lustre of our hearts and hearths does not.”

  The students behind me murmured in excitement, curiosity and any manner of emotions. I didn’t pay it much attention, as I waited with growing patience to actually be greeted by the seemingly jovial man.

  “And greetings to you too, Morgana,” he finally said with a grin that very much told me he didn’t mean it. “I hope your stay here will be pleasant and fruitful. We, the proud Qanatl?lar, offer our hospitality to you during your stay. Your students are welcome to browse whatever wares my tribe has to offer, and we’ve arranged for talented members of my tribe to ensure they’ll remain well fed.”

  I smiled thinly, because, honestly, this trip had already been way too exhausting. Though, I still made sure not to mispronounce his name and title out of politeness. “Thank you, Qanat Be?. I’m sure they’ll appreciate not having to cook their own meals, as well as the opportunity for a cultural exchange between your tribe and those that aren’t familiar with the ways of the steppe.”

  The man laughed a little, just enough to be polite. Though, I could tell he held at least some disregard for those that lived a pampered life by the way his eyes minutely twitched.

  With the greetings over, he led us to the yurts we would be staying in for the next eleven days or so. While the students were given the remainder of the day off to spend it however they wished, tomorrow the field trip classes would start.