by V C Sanford
As she poured she talked, curiosity evident on her face. “Na’Keevah is an unusual name, not from around here, are you?” She pronounced it in the old manner, something most people failed to do. Nikiva liked her immediately.
“Actually, Nikiva and I are old friends. I almost didn’t recognize her. We literally ran into each other in the market yesterday.” He gave Addie a brief description of the story, playing down the chase but including the embarrassing collision in from of the bakery.
Maxx smothered a laugh at Alex’s choice of words. The girl showing up like they did could be a good sign--- or a hint from Tyche to run for the ship. This Nikiva girl seems okay, a little too pushy for my taste. But the other one, something about her makes me uncomfortable. Why the secrecy? What’s she hiding under that thing she’s wearing? Alex’s way too trusting. Strange. Her choice of clothing doesn’t seem to bother Addie at all.
Maxx determined it was just his overactive imagination, deciding to dismiss his doubts and enjoy the evening when the door from the kitchen opened, and Tula came in. The strange old woman whispered something to Addie and then handed her a leather-wrapped parcel. She went back into the kitchen without another word.
Addie turned to Alex, laying the sealed package by his mug. “This came by messenger to the kitchen door. Tula didn’t open it, she gave the boy a tip and hurried him on his way.”
The seal on the pouch belonged to Captain Brannigan so Alex wasted no time in opening it. The pouch contained a wooden message cylinder inscribed with the emblem of the local messenger guild. Inside the cylinder was a note requesting Maxx’s return to the Sea Wyvern for a meeting, the time to be two candle marks after dark. It was specified that he come alone.
“Yours.” He tossed the note to Maxx, who quickly scanned its contents.
“I can’t imagine what he needs,” Maxx said, after scanning the short note, “but if the old man felt it was important enough to send a bonded messenger out in this weather, then I’d better go.” He excused himself and returned to his room for his heavy cloak. He needed to hurry. It would take about a candle mark to walk down to the shore and the storm was getting worse, they were in for a long cold night. There was something about the message that worried him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. It wasn’t the wording, that was simply a request for his presence. Regardless, it had to be serious for the old man to call him out on a night like this.
“It’s strange that the captain paid a bonded runner to deliver the message,” Alex informed the girls. “Any member of the crew would’ve jumped at the excuse to get out for the evening. I’m going to hate myself for doing this---- but I need to go with Maxx, even if the note says differently. Let me get my sword from my room, and then I’ll walk you home.” He decided that even though the letter specified that Maxx report to the Captain alone, there was no reason for his friend to walk there by himself in the storm. Besides, he was certain the girls both lived in the direction they would be heading---allowing him the opportunity to escort them home. He hoped that might diffuse the disappointment of an early end to their evening.
“Of course, we can get together another time,” Nikiva replied. “You should accompany your friend, especially if you feel something isn’t right.”
“I’ll tell him you felt uneasy walking alone in this storm, that you’re afraid the drifting snow might cause you to lose your way in the dark.” Alex’s face was smiling, but his eyes were shadowed and dim. Both girls could tell he was really concerned about his friend’s wellbeing.
One more point in his favor. Nikiva glanced at Rhianwen. Instead of her usual twinkle, Rhianwen’s stare was dark and cold. Something was bothering her friend. She wondered what it was.
********
Darkness pressed close about the shadowy figures, extending her protection and welcoming the umbrageous pair into her warm embrace. Both were seasoned killers, but only one was for hire and he waited impatiently for his targets arrival.
“It seems a shame to take money for this.”
“Your business is murder,” cautioned the second. “Why should you feel any different about this man?” He never considered the guilt or possible innocence of the man he’d been hired to kill. Like most men in his profession, he didn’t care one way or another. It was a job, one he hoped to complete before the storm hit. He carefully wiped his dagger to remove traces of the snow and ice that swirled around their hands.
“I still got my own code. The Duaar ain’t done nuttin’ worth getting ‘is neck slashed.”
“There’s no such thing as an innocent person, even a child knows how to tell a lie. Trust me, this Duaar is far from innocent. Your orders are specific, take him out fast. If his one-eyed friend is with him, you’re to leave him alive and unhurt. Don’t over think it.” He resumed his efforts to clean his weapons, making sure the grips were dry and protected from the weather by placing them inside pockets in his cloak to keep them ready.
“A lot of money just to take out one man. Why’s he worth so many qips?”
“To help you keep your mouth shut. Just get this business over with. I have a much more interesting body waiting in my bed at home.”
“---much gold for a …”
Castillo found himself battling a powerful urge to drive his newly cleaned blade deep into the ignorant man’s heart. “Then make sure you earn it. Use knives, go quietly, and if you’re spotted, lead them off toward the water. You’ll have assistance.” With that said he turned away, walking back toward the center of town before vanishing into the shadows.
********
“I can’t imagine why the captain needs to see you tonight. The weather is getting worse by the candle mark. The town is going to be frozen by morning.”
“It must be important, what with him paying a runner. Cheap as old Longbottom is, I wonder why he didn’t send the cabin boy. Or come himself?”
“I expect it’s because the boy’s new, he may not know his way around Cabrell. Maybe the captain felt guilty about sending him out in the storm. Or he already got tired of the old man’s bellowing and jumped ship.”
“Captain never felt bad about sending us out, no matter how bad the weather.”
“He probably found an old gambling debt that you failed to clear up. Or maybe he needs you to deliver some special freight, something that he doesn’t want to trust to a stranger. This could be the start of our new business.”
“Then why did he specify that I come alone?”
“Make sure you ask him that when you see him.”
Despite the early snow storm the streets were crowded with festival goers and others out enjoying any excuse for a party. Warmly dressed revelers frequented the festival, confident the city guard would keep the undesirable elements away. Half a mark of walking took them past several saloons, various general businesses, two boarding houses and one surprisingly busy hotel before reaching a much seedier section of town located just outside the main dock area.
Now both men slowed, aware that the seaside district they were entering attracted a more unsavory crowd than the neighborhood around Addie’s quaint hotel. Coin girls, some beautiful and some a man would have to be stone cold drunk to bed, touted their wares from windows and the front doors of the less respectable bars in a futile attempt to stay out of the cold. Beggars, knowing from experience that the weather would keep any potential marks inside by the fires, picked up their tools of the trade, and headed off to find a warm, dry spot for the night. The occasional drunk unlucky enough to pass out away from the safety of home, awoke naked, stripped of everything of worth if he was lucky enough to wake at all. Even Samsara’s crew of con artists and snatch and grab cutpurses were conspicuously absent, the streets rapidly emptying as the storm grew stronger. It was too early for a deep freeze, but until the warming sun melted it away, Cabrell was an unwilling victim of nature’s fickle whims. Alex studied a pile of boxes sitting outside the entrance to a narrow alley, deciding they were close enough to the ship to offer a
clear view while providing some small degree of protection from the cold wind.
“I’ll wait here besides this building out of the wind until you return.” He straddled one of the crates and leaned back against the wall watching as Maxx continued on his way. The building blocked the wind, but he couldn’t get comfortable. Something kept nagging at his consciousness about the ship. But what? The Sea Wyvern rode deep in the water, her cargo holds full of outgoing freight. The smoky scent of pipe tobacco drifting across the water was a familiar welcome back for the ex-marine. Her gangway was extended, the hazy light on the landing pole a dim beacon shining through the wintery flurry. A lone guard stood post, stamping his feet for warmth and to keep the snow from building up on his boots. It’s too quiet. The Sea Wyvern’s usually swarming with rowdy drunken sailors and cheap whores while in port. A snowstorm wouldn’t have stopped the crews carousing. Liquor doesn’t freeze.
He noticed a man in the dark grey uniform of the city watch making his way down the dockside, stopping at each ship to check the tightness of the ropes tied up to the piers. He paused briefly under a lantern and adjusted his cloak before moving on to the next ship. Something about the way he was behaving drew Alex’s attention. He was too controlled, spending the same amount of time at each landing. Looking closer, Alex noticed that there was no insignia on his uniform or identification of any kind on the weapons he carried. His path would take him near the dark loading ramp leading up to the deck of the Sea Wyvern---at about the same time Maxx would start his climb.
Thank the Gods Maxx is already at the ship. I can hear his scathing remarks about my paranoia. Now’s not the time for me to start jumping to conclusions. But it might be good to be a bit closer to the ship, just in case. Stepping away from the shelter of the alley, Alex noticed another vague shape standing deep inside the shadows of a nearby doorway. He paused and waited to see if the indistinct figure would say or do anything. After a few moments, the watcher faded back into the darkness without incident and Alex relaxed.
********
Maxx’s skin prickled as he approached the ship, the same unsettling feeling that had saved his head many a time during the last war. Despite familiar surroundings, he couldn’t squelch his sense of impending danger. I served on the Sea Wyvern seven years. I know every man in the ships’ crew, but I’ve never seen the guard stationed on the gangway. The first mate would never trust an untried man on watch duty. Besides, we trained our replacements. Who is he? Habit made him draw his axe. He swung it a couple of times to loosen up, just in case. Alex was watching, he hoped his friend recognized his silent signal and was ready to help if anything happened. Now fully alert and prepared for trouble, Maxx walked up to the guard and announced his arrival.
The guard didn’t respond to his hail. Expressionless, he merely removed the chain blocking access to the gangway, then motioned for Maxx to precede him up to the ship. Maxx hesitated, glancing back, hoping to spot Alex moving in his direction. No such luck.
All senses heightened, Maxx stepped forward, using one hand for balance on the ice-slicked planking while the other hand gripped the hand axe hidden from view under his coat. His heart pounding, he began climbing the gangway to the ship. A flash of torchlight on metal drew Alex’s attention. The unknown guard had moved from his position on the dock and was now moving stealthily up the gangway behind his friend, a blackened dagger in his hand.
“Drasst! Maxx look out!” Fearing the worst, Alex rolled out from behind the cover of the crane. Losing his footing, he grabbed a nearby chain to help him balance on the rime coating that covered most of the dock. He was screaming as he ran but Maxx showed no sign that he’d heard the frantic calls. Alex could only watch in horror as the blade fell.
Already alert, Maxx had heard Alex’s warning but continued moving upward as though everything was normal. At the first hint of movement, he stepped to the left, evading the assassins’ first strike. Instead of the expected killing blow, the blade caught on Maxx’s heavy sea-coat, carving a long strip in the fabric but failing to strike flesh. Immediately the assailant lunged forward, slicing the heavy blade across his shoulder and down his back. The force of the blow spun the solid Duaar, turning him so that he was now facing his attacker. The bogus guard followed the first dagger strike with an underhanded jab from a second shorter blade, slashing at Maxx’s groin, hoping to sever a vein in the attempt. He missed. Off balance and sliding on the icy planks, Maxx launched himself back off the ramp, landing none too gently in a frost-coated pile of sailcloth he’d noticed earlier on the dock.
Intent on his friend’s danger, Alex almost missed the sound of a second assailant closing in behind him, his sword blade moving in an overhead slash meant to remove the teenagers head from his shoulders. The uneven wood of the dock threw Alex askew, then an icy patch brought him to one knee seconds before the blade of the assailant’s sword passed over his head. Hastily, the young man brought his own blade up, barely evading the second stroke. Without pause, the killer swung again, this time Alex took a solid hit in his ribs. His chest felt like it was on fire. He could feel the warm blood running down his back and side. Confident that the kill was his, the ruffian picked up speed, slashing and parrying Alex’s blows effortlessly.
Now it was all Alex could do to stay ahead of his strikes, --- and somehow stay alive. He was rapidly losing blood and knew that unless the fight was over soon, it would not matter. His vision blurred, and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. Taking a wild chance, Alex fell forward onto his stomach, then he grabbed the other mans’ legs and twisted as hard as he could. Unable to balance on the rime slick pier, he fell backward, entangling his sword blade in the ropes supporting the gangway. Desperately, Alex struck out with the hilt of his sword, the heavy metal striking the ridge above the eye before ripping a long gash in the man’s face. Before the man could recover from the blow, Alex kicked him squarely in the groin. The reflexive attack had the desired effect. The injured assassin dropped his sword and rolled up into a ball as waves of intense pain shot through his groin. Blind fury replaced fear in Alex’ mind, he swung the heavy blade once more, a clean blow to his forehead that left his attacker semi-conscious.
Seizing his tunic, Alex pulled him forward, rolling him off the pier and into the icy water. The panic-stricken man twisted, clutching desperately at an icy rope with his one hand, sliding ever closer to the inky darkness of the boiling water below. Alex turned away. The man was still alive when he hit the water, but in the dockside swell, he’d be dead within minutes, either from the icy sea, or the sharks and other scavengers drawn to the smell of his blood.
Maxx rose slowly to his feet, his attention riveted by the fight between Alex and the second assailant. His shoulder was bleeding profusely, sending waves of pain throughout him every time he moved. He could feel the warm blood cool as it trickled down his arm. Despite the small amount of blood coating his coat sleeve and gloves, he knew the injury was probably much worse than it appeared. If Alex needed his help he would let him know.
It was better to wait and let the approaching watchmen handle it. Cabrell city guardsmen were not known for their tolerance, especially when said criminal offenses required them to undergo a sprint down an ice-covered wharf. What’s taking him so long?
********
Alex braced himself, expecting to see Maxx take a lethal hit. His vision blurred in and out as he feverishly concentrated on the distant fight. One body was slowly crumbling to the ground, but which one?
Maxx watched as the dock watchman fell forward onto the pier, his fingers groping at a knife lodged in his throat. Blood spurted from the wound, the droplets a warm red shower that began freezing almost as soon as they hit the ground. Who’d thrown the knife? He couldn’t see anyone. And what happened to the one that attacked him? No matter, he didn’t have time to worry about men he did not know, Alex needed him.
Confused, bleeding from multiple wounds, and faint from loss of blood, Maxx struggled back to his feet. The cold weather in
tensified the effects of his blood loss, making it difficult for him to stay upright. Staggering and sliding, he used the freight stacked along the wharf to pull himself along, gradually working his way down the frozen pier. Alex’s inert body lay face down in a snow drift stained pink by the blood seeping from his left side. Maxx dropped beside him, checking for life signs. Finding a slight but irregular pulse helped, but he knew that unless he could get him to help immediately, Alex would die. But where could he go? Until tonight he’d have trusted his mates aboard the Sea Wyvern with his life. Now he wasn’t sure he could trust anyone. Some friends, he thought, spend five years with them and they try to kill you. Overwhelmed, he looked back at the ship, calling out for help.
The Sea Wyvern was gone, replaced by a weather-beaten scow barely able to stay afloat in the storm. The derelict ship was dark and quiet, there were no signs that anyone was even aboard her. What the hells?
Maxx forgot all about the mystery as Alex struggled to take a breath, pink bubbles and a bit of blood dribbled from his mouth. He groaned and tried to raise his body, but fell back again as he was racked with pain. The Inn, Addie will know what to do. But it won’t matter if I can’t slow his bleeding. He searched the area nearby, finally locating a length of rope lying on top of a broken crate, half buried in a drift. Hands shaking from the cold he cut a strip from his shirt, folding it into a pad to cover the gaping wound in his Alex’s side. He tied the rope tightly, to hold it in place. The makeshift bandage seemed to slow the flow but made it difficult for his friend to breathe. He lingered in and out of consciousness, one moment aware that Maxx held him in his arms, the next, fighting for his life on the pier.
Maxx fought to gain his feet. He wavered a bit, shifting Alex’s body over his shoulder and then began trudging through the blinding snow and ice. His slashed back muscles strained to support the extra weight. He could feel the cut on his shoulder bleeding profusely. The storm had intensified. He knew if he stopped, even for a minute, both would die from exposure. Already it was impossible to see more than a few inches in front of his eyes. He lost his footing on a patch of black ice, falling hard against the side of a building and scraping his injured shoulder. Despite the pain, he struggled onward in the blistering cold, breathing in labored gasps thru partially frozen lips. The pain in his chest grew. He feared that if he ever stopped moving, his lungs would freeze solid. He no longer felt his injured shoulder, the blood from the knife wound had soaked into his shirt, and then the material froze, slowing the bleeding and helping to preserve his life. He prayed to Bel and Namim but didn’t expect either God to listen. Tomorrow I’ll come back and track the assassins. Someone will know who they work for, where they hang out. I’ll find them and then I’ll find the man who sent them. They made a big mistake, allowing me to live. First, I’ll help Alex. Then someone will pay.