by John Booth
“If you kill her, who will pay us?” Tonas questioned, to murmurs of approval from the other traders. It was true she was trying to rob them, but then that was what traders did for a living.
“We are fairly sure she also paid those robbers to kill you,” Daniel said loudly enough to stifle the conversation. Strangely enough, his words served to calm Hadon down. He looked speculatively at Jalia and Daniel.
“You brought Pund here to tell us this for a reason. What is it?”
“Perhaps we should put Boatmaster Pund somewhere where he can’t overhear us?” Jalia suggested.
“Easily solved,” Hadon replied. He drew his sword and stabbed it into Pund’s chest. Pund gasped in shock as the blade entered his body and he collapsed. He had so much body fat that Hadon’s thrust had not reached his heart. He pleaded with Hadon for his life. Hadon rectified his mistake a few seconds later as he leaned hard upon his sword.
“We have reason to put Gally Sorn’s nose out of joint,” Jalia said calmly, as though Hadon killing Pund had never happened. “And Daniel has a plan.”
“It will require all of us, plus Grilt and Tel to carry it out,” Daniel said, “We are going to take back the remainder of the swords and force Lady Sorn to pay you the full price for them. Considering the considerable efforts she has gone to avoid paying you, I think that will be a suitable punishment. You’ll have to pay Grilt and Tel for their efforts. Passage to Slarn and four gold pieces each seems fair.”
“Count us in,” Don Marin said unexpectedly. Everyone had forgotten he and his sister were in the room, “for the same fee.” Daniel looked to Cara, who nodded.
“There’s more than enough money lying on the floor to cover those fees,” Hadon said impatiently. “Now, how do we deal with the Lord Protector’s guards?”
The Drunken Heron was the nearest tavern to the docks. Daniel and Jalia entered it as the sun set over the town’s roofs. It was proving to be a busy afternoon. Daniel had been worried that Grilt and Tel might have moved on and was most gratified to see them sitting at a table, playing cards with three strangers.
The tavern was a typical converted house, cramped for space and reeking of beer with a fait whiff of vomit. Daniel much preferred the coffee houses of Delbon to the alcohol laden taverns of the north. The southern kings and caliphs frowned on the social unrest alcohol brought and public drinking of alcohol was banned. However, northerners enthused about their taverns and claimed that no one could live without them.
Daniel and Jalia pulled up stools and sat on either side of Grilt and Tel.
“Daniel, how marvelous to see you,” Grilt said in slightly slurred speech.
“This is Daniel al’Degar and Jalia al’Dare, the two people I was telling you about,” he informed his new friends.
The three men were a mixed bunch. The best dressed of the three was easily the youngest, being in his mid-twenties. He had a pleasant face with just a touch of hardness about the eyes, as if he had seen tough times recently and had adjusted to them.
On the young man’s left side was a man who looked a little like Grilt, undoubtedly a man who had spent a lot of his life as a guard. He was in his thirties and looked to be tough as old nails and used leather, his face was littered with scars. The third man was short and wore a long straggly black beard. His left eye was permanently set into a squint. He looked as though he had seen a lot in his life.
“Dor, Jant and Mal,” Grilt said introducing the men. “They are sailing with you on the Steam Dragon. They are from Slarn and going back,” Grilt continued. “I wish I was coming with you. From what they have been telling me, Slarn is a city you have to see before you die.”
“You may yet,” Daniel replied. “I have a job for you that includes travel costs to Slarn. For both of you.”
“We might also be interested as well,” Dor said suddenly. “Travel to Slarn is expensive and we could use the money.”
“We don’t know you three,” Jalia said. “So perhaps another time?”
“As the Lady Jalia wishes,” Dor said with a quick nod of his head. “We three will find somewhere else to continue our game and allow you to talk in private.” Dor looked at his companions and they made their way to their feet as if they had been given orders. Mal looked particularly unhappy about having to move, but said nothing.
“I am sure we will have a chance to get better acquainted on the Steam Dragon. There is little else to do but talk to each other on the voyage,” Dor said in parting.
“We want you to help us steal the swords back. Are you game?” Daniel asked as soon as the men were beyond earshot. “There may be considerable danger.”
“What’s the payment?” Grilt asked.
Daniel put four gold coins into his hand.
“Each?”
“And passage to Slarn paid by Hadon Mallow.”
“I’m in,” Tel said standing up.
“Me too,” Grilt agreed. “Let’s go and steal some swords.”
Mal nodded towards where Grilt and the others sat. “They’re up to something for sure.”
“Probably going to recover the swords that the Lord Protector confiscated,” Dor agreed. “That will save us the trouble.”
“Should we help them?” Jant asked. “The Lord Protector is bound to have set a nasty trap.”
“Those people are the infamous Degar and Dare,” Dor said thoughtfully. “Wherever they go, trouble and confusion is sure to follow. I want to see if they are as good as the stories say they are. Leave them alone and let’s see what happens.”
“They could get killed.”.
“That might save us the trouble later,” Dor said and clapped Jant on the back. “Don’t we have enough troubles of our own, without taking on theirs?”
Jant nodded, but he looked troubled. The graveyards of Slarn were full of people who underestimated the Sorn family. Some of those people were family.
“It is vital you wait for Jalia to give the all clear signal from the roof,” Daniel repeated for the third time. The reason he kept repeating it was that Hadon Mallow kept yawning whenever he said it, and he was sure that Hadon was far from sleepy.
He and Jalia had gathered the traders, Grilt, Tel, Cara, and Don just inside the Steam Dragon by the wide gangplank connecting the boat to the dock. The gangplank was actually a part of the Dragon that tilted down and outwards from its pivot on the middle deck until it rested lightly on the dock. It operated a little like a drawbridge that could be further extended if required.
It was two in the morning and the docks were quiet. Blade and Anvil were in the sky, which was cloudless. The two moons provided more light than Daniel and Jalia would have liked. The stone of the dock was light in color and would provide a sharp contrast for an archer looking for a target. The dock was wide and empty of boxes or anything else that might serve as cover as they crossed it. They had to find and deal with anyone on the roofs or this raid would turn into a massacre.
Daniel had gone over the plan with the traders until he was sick of the sound of his own voice. It was simple plan, which Daniel always felt were the best. He would walk out unarmed and apparently drunk onto the dock, singing as loudly as he could. That would divert attention from Jalia, who had found a cloak of similar color to the dock and would run directly to the nearest building. She would make her way onto the roof and begin the search for guards.
Jalia and Daniel believed the Lord Protector would have guards somewhere in the dock protecting the swords. There were only two guards guarding Lock-up Four and that was absurd given the angry confrontations that took place earlier in the day. Daniel believed they were being set up by the Lord Protector who wanted them to try and take the swords, whereupon he could kill them all.
That was why Hala was safely tucked in bed in their cabin since long before midnight. Jalia had promised the disappointed little girl that if she stirred from the cabin during the night she would not sit down for a week, if ever. Having seen Boatmaster Pund stabbed to death earlier in the evening
; Hala was far too worried and excited to go to sleep, but at least she would be safe in the cabin.
The two guards stood next to the doors of Lock-up Four and Daniel was confident he could take them without trouble, despite going over to them unarmed. He planned to do just that and unlock the doors. If there were guards inside the lock-up, that would flush them into the open, hopefully without getting himself killed. He was almost certain the lock-up would be empty, but there was only one way to be sure.
When Jalia gave the all clear signal, everybody in the boat would walk across the dock and take as many of the sword bags as they could carry. Daniel suspected that would only be one for most of the traders, who were not the fittest or youngest of men. With a bit of luck, two trips should empty the lock-up and that would be that.
Straightforward, simple and foolproof was how Jalia had described his plan. Daniel felt the plan met only the first two out of the criteria and felt a little sick.
Jalia moved to crouch beside Daniel.
“Are you sure you can be a convincing drunk? I’ve never seen you drunk.” The adrenaline was beginning to course through Jalia’s body and she was more than ready to go. This kind of situation made her feel truly alive and she reveled in it.
“I’ve watched enough of them since we moved north. Besides, it’s a little late to be having second thoughts, isn’t it?”
Jalia grinned, “I watched that bitch Gally Sorn come onboard. The idea of sneaking the swords onboard under her nose while she snores in her state cabin appeals to me. Would it be alright if I dropped the last bag of swords outside her cabin door when we finish? Just to let her know what we’ve done.”
“Let’s get the swords first. I have a bad feeling about Hadon. He’s acting like he knows better than we do and neither of us will be in a position to stop him if he does something stupid.”
“And you accuse me of having second thoughts.”
Daniel answered by stepping onto the gangplank and staggering down it. He fell at the bottom and cursed loudly. Getting to his feet unsteadily he began to sing a song about a prostitute in Brinan. Jalia’s eyebrows rose when he got to chorus, she was slightly shocked he knew the words to such an explicit song.
“The boy has hidden talents,” she whispered to herself as she ran down the gangplank like a ghost and flitted over to the nearest building. Daniel was doing such a good job of distracting people that even the traders didn’t notice she was gone.
Grilt nudged Tel who peered at Daniel from behind a bulkhead.
“Did you see Jalia go?”
“I thought she was still here.” Tel felt his face flush in the dark and was glad that Grilt couldn’t see. “Can you actually do what Daniel is singing about? I mean, wouldn’t it be difficult to breathe with your mouth…”
Grilt elbowed Tel in the ribs. “Keep your mind on the job and a look for Jalia’s all clear signal.”
“Yes, Captain,” Tel said as if back in the Brinan Guard. He was sure the act Daniel was singing about must be impossible. How would the girl keep her balance? And in any case, a pomegranate would surely never fit in such a tight place?”
There was a ladder to the roof on the second floor of the building Jalia entered. She put her foot on the first rung and stood like a statue as she heard a sound behind her. For four minutes she stood without moving, breathing so quietly that no one have heard it if standing beside her. The sound did not repeat, though she heard two rats scuttling across the floor in different directions.
She swung onto the ladder and climbed to the roof in a matter of seconds. She was vulnerable to attack while climbing and was very aware of it. She cautiously peered over ridge tiles onto the roof. There was no one there. She climbed onto the roof’s cambered surface and inched her way to its far side. The next roof along was flat and she jumped onto it gratefully. Tiled roofs were always far too slippery.
Jalia was concentrating far too hard on the roofs in front of her to notice the lithe shadow following her from a safe distance. If she had looked behind she might have noticed the glint of a knife in a shadow’s hand, but she never looked.
Daniel staggered across the dock weaving from side to side. He wanted to make it appear he was heading for the dock gates, even though they had been locked shut since midnight. With luck, he would manage to tempt the guards to enter into a conversation with him. That would give him an excuse to walk towards them.
“Oy you,” Hal Waters yelled. “That last verse has to be a joke. She would need breasts dangling to her knees.”
Hal was tired. The Lord Protector had sent word that he and Lan should guard the lock-up through the night. Both he and Lan had been on duty since nine o’clock the previous morning. It wasn’t as if there was a shortage of guards the Lord Protector could call on. As far as Hal could figure it out, they must be being punished for finding the swords in the first place.
Hal sent word back to the Lord Protector’s Palace that more than two guards were needed for the lock-up. They could be easily overpowered by the traders if they chose to. The Lord Protector had chosen to ignore his advice.
Hal discussed the matter with Lan and they made the decision to surrender if they were attacked by more than two traders, or even one trader carrying a crossbow. Life was too short to lose it over a few swords.
Hal and Lan were dozing by the door when they heard Daniel trip down the gangplank. He made enough noise to wake the dead. Daniel was too far away for either Hal or Lan to recognize him as the man who had wanted his donkeys treated well, not that it would have made any difference if they had. Even the toughest men got stupid drunk from time to time.
Hal found himself admiring Daniel’s singing skills. Despite slurring the words, Daniel was doing a fine rendition of an old drinking song about women and sex. He sang it in a pleasant baritone. Hal grinned at Lan who grinned back. This was undoubtedly going to be the only entertainment either of them was going to get tonight and so they might as well enjoy it.
Daniel sang several verses new to Hal. They depicted acts that even a hardened guardsman like Hal felt were going a bit far. It wasn’t that Daniel was offending anyone, there was nobody to offend within earshot; it was just that Hal objected to descriptions of acts of sex that defied belief. He shouted at Daniel to tell him what he thought of it and stepped away from the building onto the dock.
Daniel staggered to a halt and stopped singing. His brow wrinkled as if he was trying to think.
“‘Course it’s possible. She’s got her knees right up against her chest, all scrunched up like. Ain’t you ever done it to a woman when she’s holding herself like that?” Daniel peered into the night.
“We aren’t perverts in Boathaven,” Hal retorted. He pulled out his sword as Daniel walked towards him; then let it point at the ground as he saw Daniel was unarmed. Daniel wore nothing more than trousers and a shirt. He staggered around in a circle with his arms raised as if he had lost all sense of direction. That was to reassure Hal, though Daniel blended it in so well with his drunk act that Hal had no suspicions.
“So how do you do it in Boot-haven?” Daniel demanded to be told. “Or do all your women get pregnant at the hands of visiting traders?”
“We do it the normal way,” Hal stated indignantly. “The woman bends over, holds her knees and braces herself. Just the way the gods intended.”
Daniel had to work hard not to burst out laughing at this outrageous statement, though it was too much for Lan, who ended up leaning against the lock-up door. Tears of laughter blinded Lan as he tried desperately to get control of himself. Whoever would have guessed that grizzled old Hal was so naïve?
“I can see that you are a truly experienced man,” Daniel said solemnly. He moved closer to Hal, who backed away. Daniel had poured beer over his shirt and trousers earlier in the night. He reeked of alcohol and it drove Hal back, as the smell was overpowering.
“Tell me? Do your women take their clothes off when they do it, or do they just lift up the back of their skirts?”
Daniel enquired.
Hal was inches away from Lan, he had backed off to the limit of the available space. Lan was still too busy laughing to pay much attention. Hal started to put up his sword in a half-hearted way to stop Daniel getting closer. Daniel moved with the speed of a striking snake, his left hand grabbing Hal’s sword arm at the wrist and pushing it away. Daniel’s right fist connected with Hal’s jaw, knocking him unconscious.
Lan was aware that something had happened to Hal. He reached for his sword, but it was too late. Daniel hit him in the gut so hard he couldn’t breathe and he doubled over. The blow to the back of his head sent him to join Hal in the land of sleep.
Daniel pulled leather strips from his pockets and started to bind the two men. He stayed close to the wall of the lock-up where he knew he would be safe. No bowman on the roofs could get the angle to hit him from there.
Four of those bowmen lay on a roof not far away. Their line of sight covered the Steam Dragon and all the dock nearly up to the wall of the lock-up. Each had a crossbow loaded and pointed at the dock. Within easy reach, each had at his side two extra loaded crossbows, cocked and ready for use.
These men were the best marksman in the Boathaven guard, selected by the Lord Protector for their skills and ruthlessness. One of the reasons Boathaven was such a contented and peaceful place was that the Lord Protector eliminated troublemakers early. People in the town talked about the problem of the gangs that shot innocent people going about their business, but one death a year or less was not worth making too much of a fuss about. There were worse places to live.
Their commander Win Happs, himself one of the four, had given their orders earlier in the evening. The men knew as soon as the sounds of Daniel and Hal talking ceased that something had happened to the guards. They did not change positions, but waited to see what would happen next.
Win was a grim little man in his late thirties. He had killed a lot of men and women for the Lord Protector and knew the importance of discipline. He gave orders to his men in a whisper as they aimed their crossbow at the gangplank of the Steam Dragon.
