Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [4]
One wouldn't have guessed the derelict contained life at all, even the rats avoided its rotting boards. Any food that had been present here had long since rotted away along with parts of the ship itself. Flotsam and algae clung to its sides thickly and small fish swarmed its sides in schools, eating the algae. The area this ship was docked in wasn't even worth noticing, just a bunch of leaky fishing boats that had been discarded. Those few people that inhabited the streets currently weren't planning on staying there either. This would be one of the roughest parts of the city were it not so underpopulated.
The smuggler sat amidst the rubble of the broken down cabin, trying to pour himself a drink of gin, his hand shaking constantly. Tears of frustration ran down his cheeks and he kept casting worried glances out the window at the empty docks, half expecting a small army of giffs to appear, knock down his door, and demand payment for their lost smokepowder and arquebuses. Payment he simply didn't have.
Or rather, his family had the money, but they were too proud to bail out one of their own. Better to let him die rather than take the whole family down with him.
The rickety door did come crashing down a moment later, its rotting boards splintering and making a huge mess, but not under the great weight of a nine foot tall, eight-hundred pound giff. He was almost relieved to see only a six-foot-two soldier dressed in antique bronze armour.
Armour that shone brilliantly in the midmorning light, the sun's rays reflecting off the muscular breastplate and playing strange tricks on the eyes.
Valentino's heart stopped. He dropped the bottle of gin and it rolled across the floor spilling spirits on the rotten boards to stop at Pierce's leather riding boots.
The smuggler began praying that the giffs would rescue him. Dr. Pierce's ranger friend Witter was the Harper who had single handedly executed the hijacking of Valentino's ship, despite dying in the explosion that rocked the harbour and could be heard over a forty miles away.
Nevertheless, the city's bards somehow got hold of more specifics about the explosion and pretty soon every bard from the dandy Danilo Thann to the drow violinist Valeska Ko'Ragur were singing the tale of Witter, turning him into some kind of martyr against arquebuses. Within a day everyone had been talking about Witter's courageous sacrifice, giving his life to the city he loved. They portrayed him as a poet, a leader, a commoner, a saint. Every story exagerated the facts, trying to make out that Valentino's crew had wanted to obliterate Waterdeep, which was entirely false.
And now, looking up at the steelblue eyes of Dr. Pierce, Valentino could only think of the punishment he would receive. He closed his eyes, waiting for the deathblow that would send him spiralling into blackness. He waited and heard movement but felt nothing.
"Any rumours you've heard of me having a temper are entirely false."
His heart started beating again. He peeked open an eye and saw the man seated crosslegged across from him in the filth. He lifted a hand to his neck, glad it was still there and finally let out a breath, realizing he had holding his breath.
Pierce smiled. "It's not you I want Valentino, although you will be useful."
Valentino wasn't stupid, and he was more sober right now than he had been in a long time. He could guess what Pierce was thinking. "For what? Bait?"
"Yep!"
Valentino saw the silhouette of the nine-foot tall giff and his twelve bodyguards walking down the length of the ship factory. The huge hippo headed giff stood out most of all, his ears appearing to be horns from this distance. They approached silently with a speed that left the smuggler feeling vulnerable in this dark and lonely place. All around was unfinished parts of a new schooner still in process of being built. "Why this place?" he whispered into the darkness.
"Its a Harper building owned by Waterdeep," Pierce replied from the shadows of a pile