The proprietor-a big man with a face like a scarred fist-had belligerently demanded that they order if they were going to stay. The two of them sat, each with a cup of wine on the table in front of them now. Out of curiosity, Teldin took a sip of his drink… and almost spat it back on the table. What is it? he asked himself. Vinegar and acid, with some lamp oil added for flavor? With an effort, he swallowed the foul stuff. "Gah," he whispered to Rianna, "my mouth tastes like a latrine."
She whispered back, "That's the house's best." She turned her eyes back to the door. As she watched it, he watched her. Even exhausted and wounded, she was beautiful.
To Teldin it felt as though they'd sat in the wine shop for hours, but according to the smoky time-candle burning on the bar, it had hardly been half an hour when a large figure appeared in the doorway. Rianna's face showed relief as she recognized the man and rose to join him. They spoke for a few moments in voices too quiet for Teldin to hear, then returned to the table.
"We can go," she told him quietly. "I've hired some people to back us-people I can trust-and a boat to take us out to the hammership."
"From where?" Teldin asked. "Aren't Barrab's men watching the docks?"
"From the western breakwater," she replied. "And, yes, Barrab did have a man watching the area, but not anymore." She grinned impishly. "Willik here slipped him a few coins to take the afternoon off. It's amazing how loud money talks."
He grinned back, glad of her competence and seemingly unflagging confidence. "Shall we go?" he suggested.
The small boat was an open fishing vessel very like the one Teldin had considered hiring, but there were no fishermen aboard. Teldin and Rianna sat in the stern-he wearing a new face and form, she with the hood of a tattered cloak pulled forward to shield her face. The oars were manned by twelve steel-hard men. As they'd boarded the boat at the western breakwater, Teldin had seen that each one was virtually a walking armory beneath his concealing cloak. A substantial boarding party, he thought. Let's hope that won't be necessary.
How could it nor be necessary? he wondered. Am I going to walk up to Estriss and say, "Take me to the Nebulon," and he'll say, "Of course"? Doubtful. If Estriss were connected with the illithids from Falx, impossible. Aelfred alone might agree, but it wasn't his ship. Maybe if Estriss was still ashore when they arrived… but how likely was that? No, it seemed inevitable that there would be some kind of confrontation. He looked at the twelve bravos, facing aft toward him, throwing their weight on the oars. While none was as obviously unstable as Spak, he knew full well that they were men used to solving problems with violence. Unless he handled matters just right, things could easily get out of hand. One thing, he swore to himself, no killing.
He shifted on the aft thwart, trying to find a more comfortable position. Rianna was distracted, tense. She's as positive as I am there's going to be a confrontation, he realized. Otherwise, why bring the bravos?
Another uncomfortable thought struck him. "You can find the Nebulon, can't you?"
Rianna smiled, a little tightly. "If Willik's information is right, and we've got to assume it is."
Teldin nodded. More assumptions.
Teldin had hardly noticed-after all, he'd had more important things on his mind-but clouds had been gathering, filling the sky. For a while, the sun had been shining down through a break in the cloud cover, in parallel beams that had seemed to spotlight the harbor like a bull's-eye lantern. The sun finally had slipped behind a cloud, and the sky had darkened. A cold and miserable drizzle began to fall. Fitting, Teldin found himself thinking.
He half-stood, careful of the boat's balance. The Probe was directly ahead, now less than a bow shot away. He could see movement on deck and thought he recognized a large figure on the forecastle as Aelfred Silverhorn. Wouldn't Aelfred still be ashore, looking for him? Teldin wondered. Or does he have reason not to look for me? He shook his head. That was paranoia again. He had to trust Aelfred, otherwise there was no hope left at all. The fishing boat drew closer.
Rianna touched his arm. "How are we going to do this?" she asked.
Teldin had been struggling with the same question. He looked again at the Probe. Yes, it was Aelfred on the foredeck. "I'll go up alone," he told her. "I'm going to talk to Aelfred."
Her eyes were troubled. "Do you trust him?"
"I've got to," he said.
She nodded, accepting that. "I'll come with you."
"No," he told her. "Stay in the boat. I think it'll go better if I speak to him alone."
She nodded again, a little unwillingly. "If things start to go bad, just yell," she said. She smiled grimly. "You'll be surprised how fast I'll be there to help you."
He squeezed her hand in silent thanks.
"Ahoy, fishing boat!" A familiar voice echoed across the water. Aelfred leaned against the main deck rail, hands cupped around his mouth. "State your business."
Teldin closed his eyes for a moment-no longer than a blink-and let his false face fall away, then he threw the hood of his cloak back from his head and rose to his feet. The boat rocked alarmingly, but Rianna held his arm to steady him. "Teldin Moore," he called back. "Permission to come alongside?"
"Permission granted." He could hear the relief in Aelfred's voice. "Just where in the Nine Hells have you been?"
The sellswords obviously had some experience working with boats. The small fishing vessel drew smoothly alongside the hammership. The port side oarsmen shipped their oars, and the boat bumped gently against the Probe's hull. Immediately, a rope ladder rattled into the longboat's scuppers. Aelfred was leaning over the hammership rail, ready to give Teldin a hand up.
Teldin gave Rianna a last, reassuring smile, then clambered up the ladder. As he neared the top, Aelfred's big fist grasped his wrist, and the burly warrior hauled him up over the gunwale rail as if he'd weighed no more than a child. Aelfred's face was split in a broad, lopsided grin. He wrapped his arms around Teldin in a hug strong enough to force the air from the smaller man's lungs with a loud huff.
"By the gods, it's good to see you alive," the first mate said gruffly as he released Teldin. "I wasn't sure I would set eyes on you again."
Teldin smiled at his friend. The big man's sincerity was undeniable. How could he ever have doubted him? The relief that washed over him was enough to bring tears to his eyes.
Aelfred stepped back. No, limped back. For the first time, Teldin noticed that there was a bulky field dressing on the warrior's right thigh. The first mate saw the direction of his gaze and smiled wryly. "Aye," he growled, "I had a little mishap." "What happened?"
"What didn't happen?" Aelfred grumbled. "When you didn't come back to the auction, I finally persuaded Estriss to go looking for you. Estriss had bought a couple of pots and boxes and insisted on dragging them along with us." Teldin mirrored Aelfred's grin. He could easily picture the disguised illithid weighed down with his precious items. "I knew which way you'd left," Aelfred went on, "so we followed. We stepped out into the alley and a couple of men jumped us, just like that."
"Describe them," Teldin cut in sharply.
Aelfred gave him a questioning look, but obeyed. "I only really saw one," he answered, "the bastard who put two feet of steel into my thigh. Real nasty type: face like a rat, and fought like a cornered rat, too." He shot Teldin a speculative look. "You know him?"