Aiko looked up as if surprised. "Oh!" she squeaked, quailing back.
The Jutlanders moved toward her, and shrieking, Aiko turned and ran back the way she had come.
One of the men shouted, "Ergreifen Sie sie!" and they thundered after her, their longer legs eating up the distance between.
Up the docks she came, the men gaining, and in the darkness Egil's knuckles were white upon the helve of his axe, as were Arin's on her long-knife and Delon's on his rapier.
Aiko ran some yards past their position, then whirled, drawing her swords. Now she shouted, "Kuru! Ajiwau hqjgane!"
The pursuing Jutes skidded to a halt, for suddenly the victim had grown fangs.
"Vorsicht!" warned one of the men, and just as they began to spread wide to take this yellow woman from all sides, from behind the trio struck: Egil's axe hewing down a man with a single blow; Arin's long-knife sliding under a shoulderblade to pierce through another's heart; Delon's rapier thrusting into a third Jutlander only to become lodged against bone. Men in black whirled, facing these new opponents, and one raised a horn to his lips to sound a call. But ere the trumpet belled a single note, from the blackness there flashed a dagger tumbling through the air, and the blade sprang full-blown in the man's throat, and dropping his horn and clutching his neck the Jutlander fell gurgling. In the fore, Aiko slew one man and then another, while Delon's blade was wrenched from his hand as the man he had killed fell to the pier, taking the lodged rapier down with him. Delon looked up to see a Jutlander blade swinging at his head, and he sprang aside as another dagger flashed out of the dark to pierce his attacker's breast. The man staggered backward and fell over a slain comrade and did not rise again. Egil's axe took down the last Jute.
They looked at one another panting, and a figure stepped out of the darkness.
"Where have you been?" she demanded, a brace of throwing daggers in hand.
It was Ferret.
"Ferret!" exclaimed Delon.
She ignored his greeting. “The kingsguard will be down here soon, looking for escaped Rovers, any that got away, that is, for they're likely to try to steal a ship."
In the lanternlight they could see bandoliers of daggers crisscrossing her chest. She stepped to two of the slain Jutes and retrieved her knives, cleaning the blades on the dead men's cloaks. "These bastards were waiting. I thought them kingsmen. I didn't know they would attack you. Fortunate I stopped to get some of my things, eh?"
"Come," said Arin. "Ferai is right: kingsmen will soon be here to stop pirates from stealing ships, to say nought of other Jutlanders searching for us. We must flee."
"What about these bodies?" asked Delon.
"Let be," answered Egil. "We will be gone in less time than it would take to hide them."
"I will get Alos while you ready the ship," said Aiko, and she started back toward the bales of flax.
"Alos? Who is Alos?" asked Ferret, stepping into the shadows to emerge with a small satchel.
"He's one of the one-eyes in dark water," replied Deion without elaborating. "Now come on, let's get out of here before the warders or more Jutlanders arrive."
As they hurried toward the ship, from a pocket she fished out his belt and handed it to Delon. "Thanks. The buckle tongue makes a suitable lockpick for cell doors."
Delon laughed and took the belt and fastened it about his waist.
Now they came to the Brise. As Arin and Egil began raising the sails, Delon said, "Help me with these lines, Ferret."
"These Jutlanders: they were the men in black?"
"Aye. Men in black, with orange and gold hats on their heads. They're after us."
"Hmm, Jutlanders after you, kingsguards after me. I'd say it's time to fly."
"Sooner than you think, lass," said Egil. "When it occurs to the Jutes to come and see about the ambush, we need be long gone. Their Dragonship is faster than our sloop."
"Hsst!" hissed Arin, "someone nears."
They peered through the shadows along the docks. A figure came carrying a burden.
It was Aiko, and draped over her shoulder was Alos, the old man dead to the world. Bearing him like a sack of grain, she clambered over the wale and headed for the cabin as Delon and Ferret shoved the sloop out from the slip, vaulting on board as they did so.
And with all now aboard they sailed away into the sea underneath the glimmering stars.
CHAPTER 44
When the bark Red Hind had just passed the midpoint of her journey across Hile Bay-the ship being some ten nautical leagues out from Pendwyr, with nine leagues yet to go-Lord Steward Revor startled awake from a sound sleep in the dead of night.
The elusive thought had been captured at last.
He fumbled about on his bunkside table to find the lanthorn striker. Moments later yellow lamplight filled the tiny cabin.
He dragged the saddlebags from under his bunk, and he searched among the documents. At last he found the list he was looking for, and there on the slate of names of those to be executed was the one that gave him pause: Ferai.
Can this be the ferret Dari Arin is looking for?
He gazed out the porthole. Black night slid by.
Not likely, for Ferai is a thief, and what would a Dylvana want with a thief? Still, there is a slim chance.
Lord Revor sighed and looked at the list again.
In any event, it is long past sundown and entirely too late. She is dead by now. Still, if I hadn't been so pressed…
Lord Revor slipped the papers back into his saddlebags and slid them beneath the bed. Then he blew out the lanthorn.
He sat on the edge of the bunk in the dark for a while, then finally he lay back down.
Sleep was a long time coming.
CHAPTER 45
Just ere dawn, riding an all but spent horse with an exhausted remount trailing after, the kingsman galloped into the streets of Pendwyr. Past the Blue Moon he hammered, where in a suite of rooms a group of Jutlanders waited impatiently for the mutilators and slayers to return. The rider did not know that men in black and gold and orange lay in ambush within. Nor did he know of the kingsguards who even now were patrolling the docks and searching for more pirates, brethren of those who had evidently slain a group of honest Jutlanders and had stolen a ship-the sloop Brise, according to the harbormaster-for who else would have done such a dastardly deed as to slaughter these innocent visitors and just leave their corpses lying about for the wharf rats to gnaw upon. The critical thing the rider knew was that he bore a message from High King Bleys to be delivered into the hands of the lord steward at the caer. He had traveled some twelve hundred miles in twenty-six days, a remarkable journey all told, though he would have arrived sooner had he not lost one of his remounts, and had he not been delayed by illness. Nevertheless, he at last had come to Pendwyr, and now the caer was in sight.
Finally he reached the span across to the castle spire, where he was challenged by bridge warders. Quickly they passed him through.
Lord Otkins, first understeward, was roused from his bed. He was out of sorts, having had but little sleep this nighttide-pirates had escaped, men had been slain, some had been sorely wounded; thieves and cutpurses had fled in the dusk; even the debtors and drunkards were gone. Many escapees were yet at large, though some had been recaptured and others lay dead. And when his man had awakened him, Lord Otkins thought he brought news of the miscreants. But no, instead it was a missive, one from Bleys himself.
Lord Otkins took the folded vellum and broke the seal and read the message within:
Revor
We are with Coron Aider's warband in the Grimwall near Drimmen-deeve. Vanidar, a Lian, brought word of Dara Arin, a Dylvana, who may or may not come to Pendwyr. If she does, she may be accompanied by several others, in particular by Aiko, a yellow warrior woman. Give the Dara aid; let her have whatever she wants, for the mission she follows is vital. Too, tell Dara Arin that I keep no ferrets whatsoever, much less in cages.