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you’re all right?” he asked quietly, and Adyan turned around, too, sharing the concerned look.
    Vambran nodded and motioned again.
    “I’m all right,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “It’s only for a few days. Now go.”
    Horial and Adyan frowned together, but they finally nodded in return and turned to go, scampering down the gangplank and disappearing into the hustle and bustle of the quay. Vambran watched his longtime friends vanish and sighed, not feeling nearly as confident as he tried to appear to the concerned pair.
    Can I stomach my family for that long? he asked himself.
    He wasn’t sure he knew the answer. The carriage Uncle Dregaul would have sent for him hadn’t arrived, but that wasn’t surprising, given the fact that it was the evening of Spheres. The streets would be packed with revelers, and Prandles, the carriage driver, would be having a hard time of it. Still, the lieutenant knew it was more than a lack of a ride that
    had kept him standing on the deck of the ship for so long. He was simply stalling. After casting one more meaningful look around the deck of Lady’s Favor, he finally, reluctantly, scooped up his own bag of personal effects and started down the gangplank.
    Once he was standing on the pier, the lieutenant had to pause for a moment and get his balance. It still amazed him how much adjustment was necessary to go from the gentle roll of the ship to the unwavering feel of dry land, and he had been aboard Lady’s Favor for merely four days. He could only imagine how hard it must be for a true sailor, living almost his entire life at sea, to get rid of his sea legs.
    Then again, the man thought, I guess it wouldn’t be any harder than when I first boarded a ship.
    As he stood there, remembering how to walk without listing to one side or the other, Vambran sighed, already dreading his visit. Every homecoming to Arrabar was a bittersweet affair, the palpable strain that existed between his uncle and him intertwined with the delight of returning to familiar surroundings. As if to reinforce that point, the familiar scents of Arrabar’s docks wafted past him, the smells triggering boyhood memories. Besides the sharp, tangy smell of pitch mixing with the stale odor of filthy saltwater in the harbor, the lieutenant caught a whiff of hot, spicy thaek buns from a shop nearby.
    Hurrying up the pier, he turned onto the quay and moved briskly past the other ships in the harbor, deftly sidestepping the endless morass of longshoremen and sailors, merchants and harbor officials, and the endless stream of goods they loaded and unloaded, even at that time of the evening. They all worked ceaselessly under the light of huge lanterns hung from posts along the entire length of the harbor, and the light was more than ample for the lieutenant to move quickly and confidently.
    Thaek buns and dockside memories aside, Vambran wasn’t terribly happy to be back in Arrabar. Just thinking about coming face to face with Uncle Dregaul put his stomach in knots. The older man rarely had much to say to his nephew when Vambran returned home, and when they did speak, it was hardly warm. The lieutenant knew that Dregaul still greatly resented the trouble he had caused for the family, and he couldn’t say that he blamed the man. They seemed to have come to a mutual if unspoken agreement to keep their distance from one another. Trips home to Arrabar were short-lived for a reason.
    But beyond that discomfort, the lieutenant simply Found life as a mercenary commander much preferable to the staid environment of a wealthy merchant House. Evester would eventually inherit the reins of the business and seemed to have a knack for it, which was all well and good, Vambran often told himself. He had no desire to be a part of bookkeeping and letters of credit.
    Perhaps knowing I will never inherit it makes it easier to scoff, Vambran thought.
    Just as quickly, though, the lieutenant dismissed the notion as wishful thinking.