“She is very clever,” Dain murmured admiringly, watching Jasmine daintily nibbling dried fruit from a small bag in her hand. “Who would describe her as ‘a wild girl’ now? But where is her bird?”
Lief glanced at the riverbank, and caught a glimpse of a black shadow skimming silently through the reeds. Kree was keeping them well in sight.
As the sun set, the reed beds at last gave way to flat drifts of sand scattered with low bushes. The moon rose, only to be covered by cloud almost at once. The whistle blew. The River Queen slowed and stopped.
“We start again at first light,” the captain announced as Chett threw out the anchor with a rattle of chain. “Make yourselves comfortable, friends, and get some rest. But be on guard. Remember, your safety is your business, not mine.”
He stumped back into his cabin and shut the door. Everyone heard the firm click as a bolt slid home. Now there was silence, except for the lapping of the water and the creaking of timbers.
Chett ran around the deck, lighting lanterns, but they did little to pierce the darkness beyond the boat. The woman in pink leaned against her companion and closed her eyes. The men at the table threw down their cards, pulled blankets out of their packs, and settled themselves to rest.
Lief, Barda, and Dain ate a little, and drank sparingly. Then they, too, took out blankets, for the night was growing chilly. Lief yawned. The rocking of the boat was making him sleepy. He fought to stay awake.
“I will keep first watch, Lief,” said Barda’s voice out of the gloom. “Sleep, but be ready. I fear that this is going to be a long night.”
A shriek woke Lief. He was on his feet in an instant, his hand on his sword. He had no idea how much time had passed. It was very dark. The lanterns had gone out. The sky was black.
“Barda!” he hissed. “Dain!”
The two voices answered close beside him. His companions were also standing and alert.
The shriek came again. Lief realized that it was Kree. Kree was crying a warning. Where was Jasmine? He wanted to call to her, but knew he could not. No one must guess they knew one another.
Sleepy, grumbling voices could be heard around the deck as the other passengers stirred. “It is only a bird, my love,” the woman in pink mumbled. “Go back to sleep.”
For a moment, there was silence once more, except for the lapping of the water, the creaking of the boat’s timbers. But surely — Lief’s ears strained — surely the sounds were not quite as they had been before. They were louder. And a slight, bumping noise had joined them.
Another boat …
The thought had barely crossed Lief’s mind when all of a sudden the darkness around the deck rails seemed to move and thicken. He could hear heavy breathing, and the tinny rattle of steel. The boat was being boarded!
“Beware!” he shouted. “Defend your —”
There was a roar of anger and a rush of feet. Someone cannoned into him, throwing him down violently. He hit the deck with a thump, striking his brow on the corner of something that chimed and jingled. The music box, he thought confusedly. He touched his forehead and felt trickling blood.
Dizzy and sick, he crawled to his knees. Lockie the Stripe was squealing in panic. The woman in pink was screaming and crying. Sounds of fighting filled the darkness. Lief could hear crashes and groans, a blood-curdling yell, the splash of something heavy falling over the side. He could hear the clash of steel against steel.
“Give us some light, you fool!” roared a voice.
One by one, the lanterns began to glow once more. The polypan was lighting them, grinning and chewing as he swung from one to the other. Gradually, a scene of horror was revealed.
There must have been twenty invaders at least. Men, and women, too, with knives, swords, and axes. They wore a strange array of fine and tattered clothes, their wild hair was matted, their eyes glittering.
Barda, his back against the deck railing, fought two of them. Dain was beside him, fending off a third. Lockie was cringing on the deck. The woman in pink, wailing helplessly, was clutching at the thin man who was shaking her off, crawling away like a long-legged spider looking for a hole to hide in. One of the card-playing men lay dead in a pool of blood. The other had disappeared. Over the side, no doubt, thought Lief, remembering the splash.
Of the captain there was no sign. No doubt he was still locked in his cabin, and Lief was quite sure that he would not venture out for the sake of a few passengers. They had accepted his terms, paid their money, and taken their chances. He had not spent a lifetime on this dangerous river for nothing.
Lief staggered to his feet, feeling for his sword. He had to help Barda. But the deck seemed to be spinning. He could not move fast enough. With horror he saw one of Barda’s opponents close in, grabbing a lantern and swinging it in Barda’s face. Barda thrust himself backward to escape the flame. The deck rail groaned and began to split.
“No!” cried Lief, lurching forward. But the next second the whole section of deck rail broke away. Barda, the pirate, and the lantern tumbled into the water. There was a tremendous splashing and bubbling. Then silence.
“Barda!” shrieked Lief, stumbling to the gap. But no head broke the surface of the water. The lantern had gone out. All was darkness.
Lief prepared to jump. All he knew was that he had to save Barda, who was somewhere down in that black water. But with despair he felt himself pulled backwards by grasping hands and thrown to the deck again.
“Not until we have picked you clean, boy!” laughed the man above him, a man with a nose that reached almost to his chin, and teeth filed sharp as knives. “The worms can have you then!”
Everything was blurry. Stabs of pain shot through Lief’s head as he was rolled and pushed on the deck. The cloak was ripped from his back. His sword and money bag were taken. The embroidered band was pulled from his waist.
No!
He moaned, scrambling to rise. A heavy boot kicked him in the ribs.
“Finish him off, Finn, and the other one, too,” screamed a voice.
Finn. Lief squirmed at the sound of the name — one of the names on the walls of Where Waters Meet.
“The other one is valuable,” a deeper voice called. “He is with the Resistance. I have seen him with Doom. The Guards will pay in gold for him, alive.”
“See what I have found, trying to creep up on us!” A huge, grinning woman with streaming red hair came around the corner of the cabin, hauling Jasmine in her brawny arms. Jasmine’s feet were swinging high off the ground. She was kicking and struggling, biting at the hands that gripped her, but the woman took no notice.
“Fine clothes for a fine lady!” she roared. “Would I not look beautiful in these?” She tore off the purple scarf, and Jasmine’s tangled black hair swung free. Then the woman set about tearing at the golden cords that bound the cloak around Jasmine’s throat.
There was a screech, and a black shadow swooped at her head. With a snap, a sharp beak struck her just above the ear. The woman shrieked and staggered and her grip on Jasmine loosened.
In a flash, Jasmine had wriggled free, leaving her cloak in the woman’s hands. In a moment her dagger was in her hand, and her booted foot was kicking backwards with deadly force.
The woman howled and fell back, lurching into Lief’s attacker and sending him sprawling. Jasmine hauled Lief to his feet and passed him her second dagger. “Stay behind me!” she ordered. “Where is Barda?”
“Gone,” muttered Lief. Jasmine’s eyes darkened. As Kree flew down to her arm she whirled to face the pirates, baring her teeth.
Lief saw them hesitate. And well they might. The elegant lady they had thought to rob so easily had become before their eyes a fiery warrior whose dagger glinted as brightly as their swords. Even the polypan was gaping in astonishment. And the woman in pink —