The city of Taa-Rokna drifted onto the horizon, and it was unlike anything that Tami had ever seen before. This was the first time their clan had ever come to a crowned city, and its harbour far surpassed the meagre docks that they had encountered in other places. Their ships - small and poor by comparison to most of the ones here - had just passed the dry rubble breakwater. Some clamfarmers were out surveying their beds along the place, and waved as their clan went by. Tami waved back as he tied a knot and finished up the deck work to help bring them in.

Tami turned around from the foretent, and looked at the aftcastle. His father was passing the bronze ring to his older brother, who would tie it to his finger. His father was probably complaining about the grotesque price they'd paid for it in Elta, as well as for one that he got for free passage through the Red Flag Talmarakh. They passed through Talmar Keral's waters to get here from Eltæs, both high costs but hopefully well worth it to deliver these copper bars. His brother would be off now on a Ti-Rass boat to visit the harbor's command ship, to show the harbormaster that their ship had the right - a bronze Right, as the ring was called, for this city - to dock and trade with guildsmen in Taa-Rokna.

Tami groaned. He would have to haul all that Eltæs copper up on deck sooner rather than later, after his father struck the deals for them.

For now though, their clan's flagship had already proven their Right and was finding a spot at a quay, whereas the rest of their ships would still have to prove and find a place at the wooden piers. It was incredible how orderly this harbor seemed to be, despite being so vast. Stone quays and Jetties were kept clean and well-maintained, and the wooden wharves and piers were as well. The king of Taa-Rokna ran a tight ship, as it were.

It was mid afternoon when his family's ship was safely moored, but the process of mooring the rest of the ships would take some more time. Mooring a whole clan, even a small one, was a ponderous process for any harbormaster. Tami decided to spend the free time looking around. Despite the harbour being enormous - able to house four hundred ships by Tami's reckoning - he could easily find his way. Tami had been to harbors a fraction of this size that were directionless messes.

He walked down the docks to have a look at the surroundings - passing the harborslaves that were aiding the docking and unlading of the richer clans. Suddenly, Tami first had to hold back a retch at a most terrible odor. He asked a local what the stench was, and he laughed, "That, my friend, would be the dyer's village. Some smokehouses are, if you're willing to pay for a bite. Shipbuilders and weavers are there too, but they likely won't have a bite, nor time for you." Tami crinkled his nose: smoked fish might have been a tantalizing thought if he had not immediately lost his appetite.

He pressed on, to find that the city itself was a chaotic tangle: as if a multitude of villages had been smashed together. Madness reigned here, just as it did in most cities, but Taa-Rokna's madness was an order of magnitude larger. The quarter he came through appeared to be that of the potter's guild: a small complex of the stone houses of artisans huddled around a square, the workers out in the center working at their potters' wheels and firing their kilns. Some of those amphorae and jars and vases looked fine, and Tami made a mental note to let his father know as he wove through the square and the thoroughfares. This part of the city was entirely stone and plaster, and it seemed to Tami like the walkways had been carved into the stone of the city by a river of humanity.

At last, Tami arrived at the marketplace, having spent an hour wading his way through the city and asking directions. If the streets were arteries, then this market was the beating heart of the city - another strangeness. Normally, market would be held at the High Court, under the watchful protection of the King, who would extract tribute. But this market was open air, and ungated. Up the hill, Tami could see richer housing and eventually the Ttibute Gate that would protect the High Court. Perhaps the Assembly was meeting up there and debating corvee and projects, or perhaps another clan lord was paying tribute up there to the King of Taa-Rokna, or perhaps it was merely that only the finest goods would be traded in the High Court.

This bazaar would do just fine for Tamk; there were all manner of tradesmen here! Spicers, Metalmongers, Weavers of small clothes, Stonecutters, Woodcarvers Potters, Sugarers... all seemed to come here to this beating amorphous heart of the city. That must have been why the city seemed so huddled and cloistered - those artisans were plying their trades as close as they could to the central organ of the city, keeping their houses and community kitchens together into little guild clan villages. Outside of those on either side would be farmland - Tahanuks or simpler raised beds, or the residences of Clamfarmers and fishers, or cultivated forests of bamboo. This city had it all.

In the back of the market appeared to be a temple house, independent of the High Court. That was odd too

Tami waded through the masses towards the temple, and after finally making it there (having been accosted by numerous sellers and costermongers). He entered the temple, which was plastered green and stoutly built, and looked for a priest to present a tribute to. There was none here.

Also odd.

He proceeded through the temple, seeing the various shrines to gods. Itiah was a painting on the plastered wall there, surrounded by stars and waves and clouds. Atook was a painting too, made known by maize and sugarcane (as the Sasnak-ra were wont to do, instead of the fish and seaweed that he had seen the Sasnak associate with him). No mural of Samahab was here, and there were a few other mural to gods that Tami didn't know the names of. This one had fish, that one had bamboo, this one had alligators, that one was weaving. Unfamiliar stories were painted on these walls, but the familiar bowls of water laid before them.

Tami took out his traveling charm - a carved pearl, to look like an eye being grasped by an octopus - and washed it in the bowl of Itiah, reciting an incantation as he did. She would be sufficient where Samahab was absent. He completed his ritual, and turned towards the entrance. Tami strode out of it, to find... Trees?

This wasn't the market!

No, instead he found a walled compound of greenery - a grove of trees surrounding a pond here. Bamboo stalks throughout and well-kept, turkeys strutting around this private little glen. He wandered deeper into this small compound, to finally find the priest.

"Hail, child," said the priest. Tami was taken aback, not expecting anyone here, and the priest chuckled, "Let me guess - you just put into port?"

"Uhh... Yes. Uhh! O priest, please accept this tribute," Tami said with a reticent bow, holding out the small offering he had brought: a jar of mixed pickles.

"I thank you, child," said the priest, taking the tribute, "come, sit with me."

He sat down by the pond, and with little pause Tami did the same. They were in silence for a short while, before Tami spoke.

"What is this place?"

"This is our grove," said the priest, "of Kaffir Lime trees." Tami now noted the bumpy fruit that was blossoming, and the priest went on.

"I know, I'm told it is quite unlike what seafarers are familiar with. Out there, you are constantly surrounded by nature, and you have your own little groves in your shipside boxes. But the merchants of the city need a public house of prayer too, and King Djerami decided that a grove would make for a good place to bless the market."

"King Djerami?" asked Tami dumbly.

"Yes, he was our current king's grandfather, if I remember rightly. Many many decades ago."

"He had this place built?"

"Yes," said the priest, "and my father tended to it. He made sure that this would be a good place to see the stars. If you wait, you'll be able to augur them yourself - the reflection is... Transcendent."

"No, I need to go back to the docks. We're mooring up soon."

"Very well, child," said the priest, "but do you have enough time for a story? I can make it brief, and I would love to share it with you."

Tami thought for a second, and then nodded.

"Good. I want to tell you about this grove - a story that I would not tell most craftsmen from here, for they wouldn't appreciate its subtleties. It concerns Samahab, and the creation of these fruits," said the priest.

"Samahab! You didn't have a shrine to him in the temple," said Tami.

"That's right, child. The Sasnak-ra here do not understand him, nor appreciate him like the Sasnak do. There are some temples closer to the harbor where one can perform the rites. But suffice to say that only a true traveler like yourself can appreciate the value of Samahab, where us settled folk prefer Sodab-rab and Okir. But Samahab is still in our legends, and we still believe he will return to us one day. In this story he set out from his crowned city in search of new fruit from afar, after growing bored with what was growing near.

"So Samahab went to the horizon, and visited the kingdom of Sellitna. There, he found many fruits and vegetables and berries and spices, but he had no way of bringing them back. So he crafted boxes for the berries and plants so that they may grow on the return voyage, and be cared for."

"I've heard this story," said Tami, "I've heard it many times. He took many plants on his ship, and on the way back when he encountered storms and monsters he hid them below decks, as he dueled his way back."

"Ah, but it's not done Child. That's only part of the story," said the priest, "for Samahab also found a tree with the flesh of a curious fruit - the very same fruit you see on these trees! The Kaffir lime, with its pungent leaves, was all-too-tantalizing for Samahab, but he found a snake coiled around its base. I don't need to tell you how he tricked the snake, that's not part of the story, but eventually he managed to take five stems of the tree to bring back.

"But without life, these stems were mere twigs, so Samahab planted them in these boxes and kept them moist. He reasoned that trees, too, were flowering plants - while they may grow too large for the boxes in years, keeping them from trying and keeping them alive in the boxes would allow him to return home with them. And so he did, gingerly caring for these budding trees.

"When he returned home, he had a new problem - he discovered that the trees had not taken root like the other plants did, but they were still not dead. Thinking quickly, he cut another young tree and put another one of the Kaffir lime stalks to its old root. And he did it for four other trees. And all the trees but one took root.

"He nurtured the trees as best as he could, but one he immediately doubted and it fell from his gaze. He reasoned that they were too dissimilar of trees, and that it would never take root. Four of the trees blossomed, but the last did not and failed."

"Why did Samahab give up on the last tree?" asked Tami.

"Samahab can make mistakes too, boy. He believed that all trees come from one original branch, but some had broken off and split. Some turn colors after the monsoon, some have silver bark, and some are like clusters of vines. But they are all still trees, just as all people are still people. And you, boy, though you may be Sasnak and I may be Sasnak-ra, the difference between us is still bridged by our language. Just as while Taa-Rokna and Nacah-Itoyet may be very different, we are both still Sasnak-ra cities. It is only with doubt that efforts to join us fail," said the priest.

"You think Nacah-itoyet and Taa-Rokna can settle their differences?"

"Perhaps," said the priest, "and perhaps when joined together they'll grow strong like these lime trees. Or perhaps doubt and difference will prevail, and the growth will falter. It is only by the Sasnak that the hope and life can be kept between the cities - that's what I was trying to teach you. Now you have mooring to do, boy, don't you?"

Tami had entirely forgotten. "You're right, priest. Thank you for the lesson," he said while getting up. He looked to the sky to see light fading. It was almost sundown! He was late!

The priest remained seated, and did a slight bow of the head, "I hope you visit again tomorrow, child. Or at least take my story to heart."

"I will," said Tami, as he walked back out of the grove to the market. His parents were going to kill him for being late.