The Mercenaries - Ed Greenwood [9]
"You're thinking thisll be a long voyage?"
"I'll want it if I don't bring it, lad," she explained patiently. Belgin and the Anvil held up bottles, and she nodded.
"Good. I'm for the deck."
"Going to romance Belmer already?" the dwarf asked in teasing tones of mock disgust. "Can't ye even wait until we're clear of the harbor?"
She blew him a mocking kiss and made a rude gesture in the same smooth movement, and was gone up the stairs without a sound, a darker shadow in the gloom.
Kurthe gave Rings a snort of disapproval. "I don't like this," he announced to the cabin at large. Wood creaked as he sat on the edge of his bunk. "I don't like this at all. Creeping out of Tharkar like sneak-thieves instead of honest pirates and going off on some sort of mystery snatching voyage… without even our favorite weapons."
"Well, that stands to reason," Belgin said. "None of us could get into the Masques again before dawn, with all the Daggers whoU be crawling all over it right now."
"Oh?" Rings replied quietly. "Why don't you open that strongbox over there?"
Belgin and Kurthe both gave him curious looks. After a moment's hesitation, the big Konigheimer got up from his bunk, took two quick strides, and flipped back the lid of the chest. All the weapons they'd checked at the Masques lay within. He snatched up his own dagger in disbelief, and tested its edge with his thumb.
"How, in the name of all the-"
The onetime slave frowned, and for a moment his eyes seemed to blaze like two red flames in the darkness. When he spoke again, his voice was low and far less furious, but still urgent. "Does it cross your mind, Rings, that our new employer arranged the fight and our easy escape from the Daggers… and all?"
"Just to sign up seven salts who got out of the Kissing Shark by luck and some hard swimming?" asked the dwarf. "Only if he believes all those fancytongue tales about the lost treasure of Blackfingers. Which is more than I ever did." He looked around the cabin, and asked, "Well? What do the rest of ye think?"
A thoughtful silence had descended on the cabin. No one replied. Kurthe hefted his dagger, said nothing, and went back to his bunk.
* * * * *
Up on deck, the mists clung chill and heavy. Sharessa shivered suddenly, and leaned back against the mast, cradling herself for warmth. Well, at least it would cut the chances of prying eyes seeing them leave. The Tharkaran crew were a silent and sullen bunch; they'd cast off and were poling away from the docks even before she was topside. They shipped then-poles into sail-padded cradles in pairs, to be as quiet as possible; Sharessa thought she saw Belmer working alongside the rest.
The sweeps were already in the water, lashed to the sides of the ship by cables that the captain now un-spiked. The crew bent their backs with infinite care to avoid splashings; as the Morning Bird slipped out of the throat of Tharkar harbor, only the creak of wood and a faint foaming of water at the bows marked their passage.
Suddenly, without a sound, Belmer was at her elbow. "Nicely done," she whispered. "I've never heard so quiet a leave-taking."
"Not quiet enough," he said grimly, and pointed back at the docks. Sharessa looked along his arm and felt a fresh chill run down her spine. A signal lamp was blazing… and as she watched, a second flared into life beside it.
"Go below and tell your comrades to prepare for battle," Belmer added. "All are to come up on deck when ready."
Sharessa opened her mouth to reply-but he was gone again. She gave the signal lamp another glance, sighed, and did as she was bid.
Silver clouds scudded overhead, hiding the fitful moon from view. The seas were calm, and the caravel was running easily out to sea under light sail, the sweeps long since shipped and Tharkar far behind.
The Sharkers stood together on the unfamiliar deck, hearing the rhythmic creak of a ship rushing through the waves. It felt good to be at sea again-and yet wrong that it wasn't the Kissing Shark, with its cheerful chaos of rigging