Hiko sensed his surprise. “Dock rats are always changing, Toby. Traded in and out, grown out of the cages, sold or killed. They assume you’re new traded.” Relieved, Toby nodded.
When Toby dumped his crate on the pile at the end of the jetty and shifted his gaze to the castle, D’von cuffed him around the ear. “Get more crates.”
Toby rubbed his ear. “We have to get to the castle,” he whispered.
Next to him Ayla was placing her own load. “We’re being watched.”
The trio of soldiers who had spotted Ayla earlier had rotated to watch the four of them place their cargo.
“If they call an overseer, we’re toast.” Hiko came up to Toby’s elbow. “Keep working.”
Toby ground his teeth, tore his eyes from the open portcullis and headed back to the jetty for a second crate.
“I’m not here to shift crates,” Ayla growled, but she followed him, stamping crossly on the wooden planks.
“Hey, you.” It was the soldiers. “You, there, with the boots.”
Ayla strode on mulishly keeping her head down, pretending deafness.
“Stop.”
“He means you,” Hiko supplied. Ayla stomped to a halt and Hiko skirted around her. “Keep moving,” he muttered to Toby. “A real rat wouldn’t wait around to be included.”
“But—”
Hiko shoved him from behind. “You don’t know what he wants. Don’t look back.”
D’von crowded him on the other side. “He’s right. The girl will be fine.” He paused. “Probably.”
Hiko pushed again. “Move, Toby.”
Toby raced to the crate pile and picked up the nearest box. It brimmed with clams and filled his nose with the stench of seafood left too long in the sun. The traders had been chased off the dock by the soldiers. Toby turned and took the walk back more slowly, giving himself the opportunity to watch Ayla.
Ayla remained still as the soldiers surrounded her.
Her hands clenched and unclenched and Toby could see that she was barely stopping herself from grabbing her sword from beneath Peel’s shirt.
“Take those boots off,” the smallest soldier said. He kicked at her toecaps. “They look about my size.”
Ayla’s shoulders grew tight and Toby could see that she was about to explode. There was nothing he could do. In his head he offered her all the boots she could ever want, if she would just take off her own and give them to the soldier without starting a fight.
He edged closer, the crate clutched to his chest. He tried to meet her eye, but Ayla was glowering at the soldier who had kicked her.
Toby coughed. Her green eyes flicked towards him and her face hardened. Then, slowly, as if she was handling an unexploded mine, she bent down and pulled her boots from her feet. Then she threw them at the soldier. They bounced on the planks, two hollow thuds, and came to rest beside him.
The soldier curled his lip. “Rat! Pick up the boots. Hand them to me nicely.”
Hiko ran behind Toby, carting a crate almost as big as he was. “Don’t get involved,” the small boy muttered, as he went past.
Ayla bent, picked up the boots and held them out to the soldier, her face sullen.
The soldier stroked his moustache and took the boots, holding them up to his friends. “Damp,” he sneered. “Still, pretty good. How did you get away with keeping such good boots? The overseers are getting lax.” He leaned forward to stare into her eyes and raised his eyebrows, his cheer at his good fortune making him abruptly friendly. “Maybe you charmed him with your pretty green eyes, huh?” He reached out his free hand and his fingers raked through Ayla’s hair. He leered and said something in rapid Spanish. Ayla tensed and Toby could see that she was about to fight.
Taking a deep breath he ran into the soldier and spilled his crate of clams down the front of his uniform. The soldier jerked back. All three soldiers turned on Toby and Ayla was forgotten.
“Sorry, masters. Sorry, clumsy of me.” Toby ducked, covering his head as they aimed blows at him.
Ayla edged backwards until D’von caught her arm and, from under his, Toby saw him driving her back to the crates. Then he cried out as one of Ayla’s boots, swung in an uppercut, smacked his already tender chin. He wobbled backwards and saw stars long enough for the soldier to grab him by the arm and shove him in the direction of the crates.
“Get back to work and be more careful from now on, you filthy vermin.” The soldier spat.
Ayla ignored Toby as he staggered up – she was standing her ground against D’von.
“You’re too pretty,” he was telling her. “You need messin’.” He grabbed her arm in one hand and with the other, began to rub fish guts into her hair and face.
Hiko ran around to Toby. “Crates.” He nudged Toby into action, then stopped and stared at Ayla. Brown goo was slimed down her cheeks and her hair was now a clumped mess. His lips twitched into a grin. “Much better,” he snickered. Then he grabbed the lowest box, shouldered it and started to scuttle back to the edge of the jetty.
“He’s right.” Toby couldn’t help himself. He grabbed a box to avoid Ayla’s furious glare. But then he looked her in the eye. “Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?” Ayla snapped. Her bare feet fidgeted on the wooden planks.
“For giving him your boots.”
“It’s my own fault. I should’ve left them on the Phoenix.” Ayla picked up her own crate. Then she stopped. “You tried to protect me.”
Toby shrugged.
“No one ever did that before.”
“Not even Captain Nell?” Toby was shocked.
“You keep saying stuff like that, as if you think I receive special treatment. Maybe that’s true on the Phoenix, but the Banshee isn’t like that.”
“How come…” Toby gestured at Ayla’s hair.
“There is that.” Ayla grinned. “I don’t remember much about life before I got on the Banshee, but I remember throwing the mother of all tantrums when she tried to cut off my hair. Eventually she let me keep it. Maybe when I disappoint her it’ll go.”
Toby tilted his head. “Why would you disappoint her?”
“Everyone does, in the end.” Ayla sighed. “I’ve learned not to get too close to any of the crew she takes on. It’s easier.” She looked him directly in the eye. “Still, I’ve learned some useful stuff over the years. You think that soldier could’ve laid a hand on me if I didn’t allow it? I don’t need a sword in my hand to defend myself.”
Toby swallowed. “Well, it was less suspicious for me to take a thumping than three soldiers to get beaten up by a dock rat. Come on, we’ve got to get to the castle.”
The pile of crates was growing smaller and Toby’s nerves were wound tighter as each moment passed. He found himself glancing at the castle walls again and again. He was terrified that he would see one of his friends flying rope-necked from the ramparts.
“Watch for me,” he murmured to Ayla and she immediately busied herself in front of him, stacking the final crates as she kept watch.
When she indicated that the coast was clear, Toby retrieved the pack of weapons and tossed them into the bottom of the barrow Hiko had hidden behind. Then Ayla helped him load it up with dripping plastic crates. One of the boxes, laden with bitter, soggy oranges, had a piece of sackcloth tossed over it.
“Careful with that, rat.”
Toby looked up, sharply.
“That’s mine. And once that damned pirate ship is boarded and they let us traders back on the wharf I’ll be checking every bit of stock for damage. I’ll remember your face, rat.”
Toby didn’t answer – he ducked his head and picked up the cloth-covered box, putting it on top of the pile in the barrow. Then he hefted one handle and Ayla the other. Together they wobbled back towards the new pile of crates that was growing on the very edge of the wharf, out of the soldiers’ way.
At the pile of crates, Toby unpacked all but the weapons, then Ayla laid the cloth back on top. Hiko skidded to a halt at their
side. “Is it time?” the boy asked, his face screwed up against the sun’s glare.
Toby nodded and caught a flash of Polly’s wings in the sun as she flew skywards.
At that moment, the pirates on the Phoenix began beating their shields on the gunwale.
“Toby…” Hiko’s eyes were round and Toby followed his pointing finger. Every dock rat on the pier, D’von included, had stopped what they were doing and watched as a squad of grey-uniformed militia, elite Greymen, jogged over the cobbles. In their hands were blackened pistols.
Toby gaped. “We’re running out of time. The Phoenix can’t defend against them.”
“They can and they will,” Ayla snapped.
“Get off the jetty.” Muscular overseers started yelling and waving their arms. “Soldiers only, now. Dock rats back to your cages. You’ll have to do double work tomorrow.”
Toby placed a palm on Hiko’s shoulder. “This is our chance. No one is watching us.”
Ayla picked up the barrow again. “Let’s go.”
D’von, who had started to move with the rest of the rats, looked at them, his big face creased with concern. He hesitated, then broke away from the main body of queuing, grumbling rats.
“I’ll take you.” D’von spread his big arms and herded them towards the end of the pier. “I’m big – overseer-size almost.”
“You’ll get in trouble.” Toby objected.
“Dock rats off the dock with no overseer telling them what to do? That’s not normal. I’ll have to be your overseer.” D’von nodded.
“He’s right, let him help.” Hiko scurried beside D’von.
A flash of colour above him made Toby look up. Polly was gliding close by. A gunshot rang out behind them and he gasped.
“Don’t look,” Ayla said. “First lesson from the Banshee. Keep moving forward, don’t look back.”
EIGHTEEN
Four dock rats proceeded towards the castle. Two of them pushed a barrow, the littlest walked to the side holding a crate, and the biggest harangued them in low tones.
As the front wheel bumped over the cobbles and threatened to overturn its cargo, Toby mused that the important thing was to look as if you knew where you were going and what you were doing.
He glanced sideways at Hiko and tried to emulate the way the smaller boy moved – head low, feet quick, steps small.
Ayla grunted as the barrow wobbled dangerously. “Stop that,” she snarled, righting it and gripping her handle more tightly.
“I’m trying not to get caught.” Toby gritted his teeth.
“Well, a barrow of weapons spilling on the cobbles will be a wonderful disguise,” Ayla retorted.
“Shut your mouths,” D’von rumbled. “You don’t talk, I talk. You’re not allowed.”
Toby pressed his lips together and glared at the girl by his side. Her face was sticky with sweat and fish innards and the scar on her lip stood out against the sunburn on her hollow cheeks. He realized that she hadn’t eaten since she’d arrived on the Phoenix, yet she made no complaint.
Toby looked up. They had left the promenade now and were passing houses. Every other one looked derelict, but there was a smithy and a bakery, both lit by the glow of large fires within.
Spicy cooking smells tinged the air, making Toby’s mouth water and his eyes caught the flickering of bulbs in dark rooms.
A little girl peered from between curtains in one house and pulled a face at him. “Yuck, dock rats!” she squealed.
A boy grabbed her by the shoulder and swung her around. “It’s your turn to be the volcano,” he shouted. “An’ I’m the lava.”
“Boom!” she shrieked. “Get Mama.”
They ran out of sight and Toby stole a look at Ayla.
“What are they doing?” she murmured, half to herself.
“They’re playing,” Toby said, surprised. He caught her disgusted expression. “You don’t get much leisure time on the Banshee, huh?”
Ayla looked resolutely away from him. “Waste of time,” she muttered. “She should be learning to fight.”
“Shut your mouths.” D’von clipped Toby around the ear.
Toby clamped his mouth closed and shook his head, then glanced across at Ayla. She was staring back at the house with the little girl in it. He set his face forward. The castle was straight ahead now, the portcullis open. More soldiers were emerging from the entrance. The officer called to someone then jogged forward, sword at the ready, towards the four dock rats and their barrow. It seemed to Toby that Tarifa had an endless supply of soldiers.
“Hold it,” D’von grunted and Toby, Ayla and Hiko froze.
Toby’s hands closed tight around the barrow. If one of the soldiers kicked it the weapons would be spilled to the ground.
“Out of the way, rat,” the officer snarled, aiming a swipe at Hiko. The boy hopped sideways and Toby and Ayla laboured to move the barrow off the street. The sweating men pounded past, ignoring them.
A gust of wind brought the sound of gunshots and yelling to their ears but Toby set his jaw, refusing to look back. They were running out of time.
As soon as the last of the soldiers passed, Toby dragged the barrow back on to the cobbles and stepped up the pace.
Just ahead Polly swooped through the portcullis and was swallowed by the gloom. As the wheel of the barrow reached the castle’s shadow Toby hesitated. He glanced at Ayla just as she raised her head. Their eyes met.
“The mission,” she said, like a vow, and he nodded.
D’von was first beneath the portcullis. Hiko tiptoed anxiously at his side, and Toby and Ayla followed into the darkness, balancing the barrow between them.
Toby stood, blinking, forcing his pupils to adjust to the shadows. After seconds that seemed to take hours, he was able to look around. He tensed, waiting for someone to shout at him, but the courtyard in front of them was deserted.
Suddenly D’von gestured. “Back, back.”
Toby and Ayla retreated into the shadows. Hiko crept under Toby’s arm.
D’von, however, was ahead of them, and didn’t have time to follow them into shelter.
A man dressed in a long red jacket with a high collar appeared from the archway to the right of the courtyard. His hair was braided in a low plait at the base of his neck. Toby guessed this was the portmaster.
He spotted D’von. “What are you doing, rat? Sent to help with those pirates? Get down to the dungeons and ask for instructions. We’ll be doing the first hanging in –” He consulted a gold watch that dangled from a chain in front of his chest – “twenty minutes.” He rubbed his hands and looked at the sky. “What a serendipitous day, Ford falling into my hands like that.” He glowered at D’von. “Still here? Are you stupid? Go to the dungeons.”
“Should I take a key?” D’von asked. He held his hand out to the man and Toby’s heart filled with affection.
“No, idiot. The keys are in my office. Why would you need keys? Just go and find the officer in charge.” The man shook his head. “Those overseers spend too much time hitting you rats on the head. You’re good for nothing once they’re done with you.” He looked D’von up and down like hanging meat. “Although you’d probably make a half-decent soldier. If I remember, I’ll mention it to your overseer when the cages are next cleaned out.” D’von ducked his head. “Why are you still here?” The portmaster almost shrieked.
“Which way?” D’von asked.
The portmaster rolled his eyes. “Past the kitchens and keep going down. When you can’t go down any more, you’ll be at the dungeons. You’ll like it in there, it’s just like home.” His moustache squirmed as he sniggered.
D’von marched in the direction of the portmaster’s pointing finger. Open-mouthed, Toby watched him go and then the portmaster swept past them, never suspecting that even more rats were hidden in the shadows.
When he was gone, Ayla stepped into the light. “Quick.” She gestured in the direction the portmaster had appeared from. “His office has to be this way.” The
re was a small staircase.
Claws closed around Toby’s collarbone and he nuzzled his head into Polly’s familiar weight. “Glad you’re here.”
Ayla rolled her eyes. “What are you waiting for?” She ran up the stairs, already unsheathing her sword. “We have less than twenty minutes.”
Toby swung the weapons pack on to his back and tipped the barrow on its side in an attempt to hide it.
“Let’s go.” He motioned for Hiko to follow him.
Toby stepped into the office and shut the door quietly behind them. There was a narrow window that overlooked the straits, but it was too small to allow much light in.
“Here, Toby, you can do the honours.” Hiko stood by the wall. Toby looked quizzical and Hiko gestured again. To his left was a dented plastic panel with a dirty switch.
Polly hopped off his shoulder and flew on to the desk, her left eye on Toby, her right swivelled towards the door.
Toby put a finger on the plastic switch and pressed. There was a crackling hiss then a bulb flickered and lit with a fluorescent glow. “Electric light.”
“All right, all right, twenty minutes, remember? Let’s find those keys.” Ayla was already rifling through a box on a shelf against the wall.
Toby was looking at the room. In front of him there was an actual wooden desk covered in what looked like a lifetime’s supply of precious wood-pulped paper.
“That’s a month’s wages there, right enough.” Ayla was next to him. “I’m tempted to take them for Nell.”
“Keys?”
Ayla shook her head. “Let’s try in the desk.”
Toby yanked at the top drawer, but it didn’t move. “Locked.”
Ayla elbowed him out of the way, shoved her sword into the top of the draw and levered her weight down on the end. Polly skittered off the desk and the draw opened with a splintering of wood and popping metal.
Toby peered in. “No keys.” Then his eyes widened. “But look what we do have.” He grabbed a handful of yellowing paper.
“What?” Hiko ducked under his arm and Ayla leaned in, her eyes sparkling.
Phoenix Rising Page 16
