That could only have been Spak. "I know him," he said quietly. "Did you kill them?"
"Aye," Aelfred replied, a little uncomfortably. "They didn't give us any choice. All-out attack, no chance for parlay." He shook his head. "Anyway, no matter what you farm boys think, that kind of thing doesn't normally happen in cities. It had to mean that you were in deep trouble. I wanted to go looking for you, but my leg was bleeding pretty badly. Estriss ordered me back to the ship." He grinned ruefully. "I'm afraid I was a little insubordinate. He nearly had to drag me back. Good thing he did; I passed out on the way."
"Are you all right now?"
Aelfred slapped his wounded thigh-but not too hard, Teldin noticed. "Mending nicely. They poured a potion or two down me. I won't be doing the hornpipe for the next couple of days, but at least it'll hold my weight now."
"What happened then?"
"Estriss was worried about you," Aelfred continued, "almost as worried as I was. He sent most of the crew ashore to find out what happened to you, your friends the gnomes in the lead." He paused. "What did happen to you?"
Teldin shook his head. "I'll tell you when I've got time." He looked around the ship. There weren't many crewmen visible. "Have you got enough crew to set sail?"
"Sail, no," the mate replied. "Fly, yes. Why?"
Teldin took a deep breath. This is it, he told himself. "I need to get to the Nebulon," he said quietly. "I need to go now."
"Well." Aelfred was silent for a moment. "I'll call Estriss from below." He started to turn away, but Teldin grabbed his shoulder.
"Aelfred." The big warrior turned back. "Aelfred," he repeated, "wait. I… I learned something. I think Estriss may be…" He took another deep, calming breath. "I think Estriss is involved with the people who are after the cloak."
The first mate stiffened. "What?"
"There's a group of mind flayers who are after the cloak," Teldin explained. He struggled to keep his voice steady, unemotional. "I think Estriss is in with them. Or, at least," he added, feeling it was vital that he tell as much of the truth as he knew, "he might be. I'm afraid he is." Aelfred was silent. "We talked about coincidences," Teldin went on earnestly. "Remember? What are the odds of meeting another ship in wildspace? Next to zero, you said. Remember?"
Aelfred nodded, a little unwillingly. "Aye," he said.
"What was the Probe doing in Krynnspace, Aelfred? Why did Estriss want to go there?"
The burly warrior was silent for a dozen heartbeats. "I don't know," he said finally. "He never told me."
"Did you put down on a planet?" Teldin pressed.
"Yes, one of the moons of Zivilyn."
"Why?"
Aelfred shrugged. "There was another ship there," he said, "somebody that Estriss had arranged to meet on business. I don't know who, or what kind of business."
"Why did you sail to Krynn, then?" Teldin asked urgently. He struggled to recall the conversations he'd had with the gnomes about the makeup of the Krynnish system. "It's a long way from Zivilyn, isn't it?"
"Aye," Aelfred answered quietly, "about six days."
"And did you land on Krynn?"
"No."
Teldin nodded. The further he went into this, the more doubt turned to certainty. Estriss had to be playing a deeper game, following his own agenda. Once again Teldin felt the icy knot of fear in his stomach. "Why did Estriss say it was necessary to approach Krynn?" he asked.
"He didn't say."
"You just sailed near Krynn, saw the longboat being attacked by pirates, and you saved me, then you left Krynnspace again. Isn't that so?"
"That's so," Aelfred said slowly.
"As if, in finding me, Estriss had got what he wanted?" Teldin pressed.
"That's so," Aelfred repeated, quieter.
Teldin returned to his original point. "I need to get to the Nebulon."
"You'll have to talk to Estriss." Aelfred's voice was firm, but his eyes showed doubt.
An image flashed into Teldin's mind-an image of an attacker collapsing under the lash of the illithid's mental attack. "I can't," he said. "Can you take the Probe up without Estriss? Without his say-so?"
Aelfred's eyes went cold and steady, like a blade in the hand of a master swordsman. "It sounds like you're counseling me to make a mutiny, old son," he said softly.
Teldin paused. There was real danger now. He could hear it in Aelfred's voice. He's my friend, he told himself, but friendship can go only so far. "I need passage," he said carefully, "and I can't go back into town or I'll be killed. Why would I lie about this?"
The first mate hesitated, obviously torn between friendship and duty. "You'll have to talk to Estriss," he said again. This time there was indecision in his voice as well as in his eyes.
"I can't, Aelfred. You've got to help me."
Aelfred pointed to the fishing boat that was still hard against the hammership's hull. The dozen sellswords were undoubtedly just what they were: hired bravos. Nobody could ever have mistaken them for fishermen. "If I don't help you, are they here to make me?" The big warrior's voice was casual, but ail the more dangerous for that. "Could it be that you plan to take the Probe, Teldin? Take it at sword-point?"
"No," Teldin shot back forcefully. "You're my friend. You've been my friend through everything. I can no more turn against you than I can fly this ship myself." He spread his hands in an open, disarming gesture. "All I can do is depend on that friendship. Help me, Aelfred. Save my life again. You're the only hope I've got left."
That took the big man aback, Teldin could see. They stood silently for several score heartbeats. Teldin watched the play of emotions over his friend's face-painful emotions, many of them. It was hard to keep silent, hard not to press the point, hard not to plead, but Teldin understood enough about Aelfred Silverhorn to know that this would be the worst thing he could do. He had to respect the man, had to give him time to make the difficult decision on his own.
"Aelfred!" The call from a crewman on the forecastle was enough to make Teldin jump with shock.
The first mate turned away, obviously glad to be spared from his dilemma, if only for a few moments. "What?" he barked.
The crewman was pointing toward town. "Message from the harbormaster, sir," he called down. With a muttered curse, Aelfred looked to where the man was indicating.
There was a string of flags running up one of the flagpoles atop the harbormaster's building. Like the ones telling us where to dock, Teldin remembered. A premonition of danger tingled through his nerve endings. He wished he could read the message. As he watched, another string of flags ran up the second flagpole.
"What in the name of all the fiends…" Aelfred stared at the flags in open stupefaction, then he turned to Teldin, an expression of enforced calm on his face. "Just what have you been doing ashore?" he asked.
"Running for my life," Teldin answered truthfully. He indicated the flags. "What do they say?"
"The Probe is impounded," the mate said disbelievingly. "We're ordered to remain in place. There'll be a vessel coming out to secure the ship, and to arrest a fugitive from justice, one Aldyn Brewer." He fixed Teldin with a flint-edged stare. "What have you done?"