“CARLSON! GRAB THAT MAN! ATTEMPTED MURDER HERE, HE’S THE DIVERSION!”
The laughing stranger stopped laughing, looked over at Mikkel, frowned and pulled a knife from his belt long enough to be a short sword. The boys around him pulled back while the bouncers, Carlson and his equally huge assistant, slammed the doors shut and barred them, then advanced on Rafe.
Rafe looked at Mikkel again, and dropped his eyes to see the pool of blood around Paul, pivoted, put his arm over his eyes and jumped at the window. And bounced back, the glass cracked but unbroken and the wooden frame still holding. Carlson picked up the stunned man, broke his wrist carefully to dislodge the knife and threw him against the bar.
Carlson looked round. “Did he have any friends?” his voice was high and squeaky, and would have been funny if he was not so menacing.
“He sure does,” said Dan, and grabbed a couple of toughs who looked stunned and came forward at his pull.
Sara looked at Mikkel and whispered, “You knew this would happen?”
He grunted. “Saw the way they acted. Heard about him before, political killer. Nasty bit of work.”
“Mikkel doesn’t miss much,” said Sal matter of factly.
“I see,” said Sara. “I need to get back to the ship. I can’t be questioned.”
“I understand,” said Mikkel, so only Sara could hear him. “I know who you are, saw you last year. I’ll square it with Carlson. Give me your knife, it’s mine now. Got another one? Fine. Get the boys together and take them back to the ship. Go with them Sal, take Selwyn. And Sal, leave that boy alone.”
Sal glared at him. “I’ll see them back to the ship, no worries. What are you going to do with this shit?” She kicked the unconscious Lance.
“Watch him. I need to talk to Carlson.” He turned and was off.
“Just what is going on?” Terri’s voice was high and frightened, Linda’s eyes were huge.
Sara glanced at her. “Old feud from my mercenary days,” she said. “Why I didn’t really want to come out tonight. I am sorry you were involved.”
“Is that man dead? I’ve never seen a dead man so close.”
“Where the hell are you from, sister?” Sal stared at her. “City girl? Don’t let it get to you; this scum deserved it and a lot more. Professional killer, right Sara?”
“Yeah, I killed his employer last year and he didn’t get paid. There may be more in his band waiting outside.” Sara improvised.
“I know.” Sal was all efficiency, Sara was impressed, but Linda and Terri were looking scared, especially at this last comment.
Sara called over the buzz of conversation in the bar. “Pat! Dan! Can you come over?”
The boys came over reluctantly, Dan giving one of the men a last kick. They stared at the body on the floor, and the unconscious Lance. Before they could say anything, Carlson’s assistant arrived with a girl in tow. He picked up a body under each arm and made off with them, while the girl mopped the blood off the floor and left.
“What...”
Sal interrupted. “Seems Sara has a few enemies and they tried to take her out. That fight with you was a diversion, Dan, so they could kill her. Didn’t work out.”
“Kill her? You’re kidding!” The boys stared at her for a moment.
“We need to get her safely back to the ship and there may be others out there.”
The boys looked at her for a moment, and Dan and Pat straightened at the same time.
“No worries,” said Dan, “we’ll look after her.”
“I’ll scout ahead,” volunteered Rat. He looked at the others and blushed. “I was a thief. Why I am on ship, to change what I am. But I got skills. I’ll go over the roofs ahead of you and spot any ambush. You can depend on me.”
Sara grabbed his hand and smiled at him. “Thanks Rat.” He blushed.
“Leave him alone, He’s mine.” Sal grinned at her; Rat blushed even more and looked at his shoes. Sal turned to the girls. “Are you going to be alright? Can you get back to the ship without fainting on us?”
This got a reaction. Terri gulped, but Linda glared at her. “We’re crew! In this together. Tomorrow we may be fighting pirates and killing them ourselves. We just weren’t expecting it here, and it’s Terri’s hometown. She’s not even been drinking in the docks and she’s young. But she’s strong, aren’t you love?”
Terri’s eyes hardened and she nodded. “We’ll be fine, not only will we not faint on you, but we’ll fight beside you if we need to.” She pulled her knife from her belt. It was a decent length and well used, but sharp.
Mikkel came up with Connor and Selwyn. “OK folks, time to go. I’ve squared it all with Carlson, he’s going to dispose of the body and sort out the others. We’re all coming with you to the ship.”
“What’ll happen to them?” Sara asked, her face hard.
“Don’t ask. Carlson has connections and we’ve known him for years. They won’t trouble you again. Now come on, the back door is open and we’re going that way.”
Without another word, they filed out through the kitchen into the backyard. Rat squirrelled up the side of an ornate building and was gone from sight with barely a whisper, while Pat slipped ahead, motioning with his hand; Mot crossed the street and ranged ahead. The others formed a loose bunch and walked down the centre of the street, Mikkel in the lead with Connor and Selwyn at the back, checking behind constantly.
Sara looked at Sal. “You’re like a military operation. You seen a lot of trouble?”
“Yup. We run one of the biggest spreads in Fearaigh, and we’re always getting raiders coming down from the hills, men, elves, even the odd Dwarven band, though they tend to treat with us first these days.”
“Elvish raiders?”
“Renegades. Not part of the main clan, and they need to win their scars. Seems we’ve developed a bit of a reputation, and they try to hit us at least once every couple of years. They like our horses. Of course the Elf Queen sends a trading caravan once a year.”
“I didn’t know.” Sara frowned.
“Why should you? We look after ourselves and we’re proud of it. No mercenaries down our way.”
Sara bit back on what she wanted to say, inwardly furious the crown did not know of these raiders into the fiercely independent grasslands. She changed the subject. “Is Pat always the scout? Is he good?”
“Never seen the like. We had a renegade elf we healed after a fight, stayed with us for five years. Said it was because of Pat. When he was just a little thing he used to take him into the woods and teach him about animals and God knows what else. Got him shooting arrows earlier than most, probably why he is so good. Only person I ever saw who could creep up on every animal around. He used to get into trouble when he was small, pinching cubs and the mamas would come after them. Funny though, he would always give them back to the mama and they never hurt him. Seemed like he could talk to them.”
The subject of the conversation appeared in the light at the end of the street, nodded briefly at Mikkel and disappeared into the shadows. Mikkel kept them going.
The moon and stars lit the docks almost as clear as daylight, but with plenty of deep shadow. Two sailors appeared and walked up the gangplank, while Pat slid up a stack of bales. He stiffened, seeing movement across the quay on another pile and relaxed as he realised it was Rat.
The main group came up the quay and all went onto the ship. He slipped down and followed them aboard; Mot appeared from nowhere and went across the gangplank without hesitation.
“Hang on a moment, let me check the cabin,” he hissed, and slipped to the fo’c’sle. Mot followed him in, her hackles shot up and she raced over to a hammock, growling fiercely. There was a commotion from the hammock, which twisted and a body was thrashing in it, hanging upside down with a face staring into Mot’s teeth, whereupon it froze.
Others crowded in behind Pat and somebody lit a lantern, revealing a trickle of liquid coming from the hammock, and an acrid smell.
Dan started to laugh.
“Mot!” Pat said, “to me now. Friend.” Mot stopped growling, gave the girl a quick lick and sauntered back to Pat.
“Bet you wish you had come with us for a drink now, Katie.” Dan cried, as the tension dissolved.
Mikkel raised an eyebrow to Pat, who nodded.
“Right,” he said, “if you folks are all happy and safe, we’ll tuck you into your hammocks and get back to some serious drinking. C’mon Dad, you’ve said your goodbyes, let’s get going.”
“Not so fast,” said Sal, grabbing Rat by the hand as he came in. “These hammocks look loads of fun! Don’t you get any privacy?”
“On a ship?” Sara cried, “you must be kidding. You could try right up the rigging though.”
Pat was helping Katie out of her hammock and introducing her to Mot, not very successfully, as Mot was trying to help and Katie was still terrified and not sure if she was awake or asleep. Dan helped, less gently and she sprawled on the floor from where Linda pulled her up while Terri hugged Mot and spoke soothingly to Katie.
Outside there was a noise and the sound of horses coming across the quay towards the ship. The gangplank creaked as the first feet stepped on it.
Mikkel stiffened and stepped to the door, Dan and Pat right behind him with Sara slipping in front. There was a group of men coming up the gangplank, slowly and unsurely, clearly not sailors. A knife appeared in Mikkel’s hand, when Sara gripped it.
“Soldiers” she breathed into his ear.
They tensed. Pat slipped out of the door, picking up his war bow and quiver from the rack by the door and disappeared into the shadows with Mot at his heels, Rat half a second behind went the other way, knife glinting in the moonlight.
“Ah, hello? Is anyone here?” came an uncertain voice from the group at the head of the gangplank, well spoken but with a hard tinge to it.
There was a noise from the poop and a door opened, shedding some light onto the deck. The mate came out, swinging a lantern, revealing a group of about a dozen soldiers with a Lieutenant to the fore. They looked tired and well travelled, their clothes, even in the dim lantern light, looking dirty and torn, though still showing faint insignia.
Nothing was wrong with their reactions though, as the dim light reflected on half a dozen knives drawn at the entrance to the fo’c’sle. In an instant all had drawn swords and were spreading out.
Pat’s voice came sharply, hard and commanding, totally unlike anything any of the others had heard from him before.
“Stop! You are covered by war bows and outlined in the moonlight. State your names and purpose.”
To underline the command an arrow thunked into the deck at the feet of the Lieutenant, who froze, as did the soldiers who all recognised the power and lethal capability behind the broadhead which had come from out of the dark and buried itself a good couple of inches into the deck, leaving a crunching hole.
“Lieutenant Mactravis and ten soldiers of the Royal Pathfinders, reporting to the Queen Rose as per our orders. We were detained by weather and some entertainment from Spakka scouts.” He smiled grimly. “We rode through the night to catch up some of the time, but I regret we are a day late.”
Sara’s voice came from the fo’c’sle. “Relax Pat, They’re genuine. I’ve seen Mactravis before.”
The Lieutenant’s right eyebrow rose slightly. “I begin to see why we have been detailed. You are having trouble? Fill us in and we’ll join your watch tonight. We may have had little sleep for the last couple of days, but standing watch is easy.”
“Just what the hell is going on?” Captain Larroche came out behind his mate, who was looking confused. “And what in the seven circles of hell is a wolf doing on my ship?” Mot had come out of the shadows, and looked twice the size in the poor light.
Suppressed giggles came from the fo’c’sle, but Pat stepped into the light, his bow still strung and an arrow ready.
“Sir, we were attacked in town, two enemy casualties, no shipmate injuries. My family escorted us home. The wolf is my sheep dog - she came too.”
“Attacked? What do you mean attacked?”
“They were after Sara, Sir. We think it was some old mercenary grudge, as there was not just a gang but a well thought out plan to kill her. That’s why we accepted extra help to come back to the ship.” Pat looked at the Lieutenant. “Apologies for the welcome, Lieutenant Mactravis. Did think you were the mercenary gang in the dark.”
“In other circumstances that would be a deep insult, lad. In these, quite understandable. You’re a hand with a bow. I’ve not met many who can draw that length.”
Captain Larroche stepped forward, keeping a wary eye on Mot who relaxed her hackles, went up and wagged her tail at the Captain.
“Right, I think I understand what happened. Lieutenant Mactravis, apologies for the manner but you are very welcome. We have reserved a cabin for you, very small I am afraid, and your men have a larger one. A good thing you rode so hard as we leave on the morning tide. Brian, can you show the soldiers to their quarters. Lieutenant, if you would be so kind as to report to my cabin when you have settled in, say half an hour. Brian, you be there too. Pat, choose a colleague and take the watch till midnight. I doubt we will see any activity tonight. Brian, I thought we had a watch?”
“You do, Captain.” A voice from above, and Else slid down a rope. She grinned. “Best fun I’ve had in ages. Nils! Relax the ballista.”