Keilin took that deep breath and slid down into the water. His nerves were pain-blocked, his eyes saw the world through the faint red shift of human fear-strength, his muscles ready to continue even until their own destruction. He was still unprepared for the cold assault.
He counted. He could feel the numbness creeping inwards. His hands could still feel the rope. By the bumping on his back the water flow had pulled them at least partially under the hull. He opened his eyes. He could see greenish light back there. Keilin felt at a count of 130 that he could hold out no more. His lungs were on fire. His hands were losing feeling. He couldn't swim, and if he didn't go up now, he'd drown. He began pulling for the surface. Behind him he felt S'kith do the same.
The joy to breathe again! S'kith surfaced next to him. And a low voice came over the side. "Stay in the water. They haven't gone yet." So they had to do it again. Finally someone gave the rope a couple of sharp tugs. Keilin's lungs and mind screamed conflicting messages: Go up, and, They've found the rope, let go.
Decision was abruptly taken out of his hands as the whole rope lifted. Beywulf's hairy face, red with effort, grinned down at them. "Come up, you water rats."
"Oh. Cap says to wait another couple of minutes. Want some soap?" With a splash he let go of the rope, and they had to pull to the surface once more.
By the time they got the all-clear, Beywulf had to pull them up, because neither could climb.
Bey chuckled at the blue, dripping, exhausted figures. "Didn't you find the hot tap? You pair of bastards, leaving me alone to face the music. You should have seen that bit of fluff of yours," he pointed an elbow at Shael, "cleaning her nails with her knife next to that prick of a steersman." He snorted. "If I'd been him I'd have been more scared of what was under the nails. Now, come below and get some dry gear and a warm brew into you."
Keilin discovered that the problem with bone-deep cold was that it took so long to warm up. The water had been perhaps five degrees and they been in it for nearly ten minutes. The core temperature of his body was down by several degrees . . . and it just wasn't coming up. He still shivered under the blankets an hour later. He also discovered the cost of bioenhancement. His body was almost too exhausted to struggle to get warm.
"Move up." Shael spoke roughly. Next thing he knew she had slipped under the blankets and squeezed into the bunk with him. Her arms went around him. "God. You're still like an ice block." He felt the life-giving warmth of her body seeping into him. She giggled suddenly. "When Bey mocks me about this—and he will, I know—I can honestly say you were frigid." Keilin barely managed a weak smile. Soon the warm drowsiness took him into sleep. She lay there for a long time cradling him in her arms while his now-peaceful face smiled up at her. She nearly bit a hole through her lip, as the realization took her. She didn't care if he protected her, was kind to her, or could be used by her. She was just glad he was still alive.
The curving Elbe took them westwards, towards debated lands. Here the wide river flowed from the lands controlled by Emperor Deshin into those still held by the Tyrant. The bargeman would go no further. The river was blockaded, and his fat tub of a vessel was not built to run, but tied up at the river quays were numerous sleek shallow-draft boats. Their only problem was to prevent the steersman howling for the authorities the minute they docked. This time it was Shael who kept Cap from cutting his throat. She simply handed Cap a bottle she'd looted from the apothecary's shop.
He smiled down at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And why would I be wanting this, my fine young lady?"
"Isn't that what you meant when you said the bargeman would have to be put to sleep?" she asked innocent and wide-eyed.
"Hmph!" He snorted at her. "You're not the little angel you pretend to be, are you, little one? Still, it's not a bad interpretation. We might want to come back this way one day."
So the unpleasant steersman snored peacefully in his smelly bed while they clumsily maneuvered his craft into the quay. Of the seven runner craft tied up at the quayside, only one was prepared to take them through enemy lines that night. Keilin misliked the feel of her crew. So, by his unease, did S'kith. Keilin had learned that the Morkth-man's psi ability manifested as premonitions of danger. S'kith admitted that he had failed to recognize them for what they were at first. It had got him caught and nearly hung. Now he acted on the hunches. Still, Cap was sure that the pursuit from Amphir was close. He insisted they move that night. Shael suspected he wasn't too concerned for Keilin's welfare, but he surely didn't intend to return the core section either.