The Forlorn(86)

They boarded the river runner, taking their seats between the deep banks of oars. Keilin made carefully sure that his assegai was handy. By the looks of it S'kith, too, was prepared to fight. The moon was sinking low and with muffled oars they set out into midchannel. Soon the moon was down and the river mist which forms in the early morning was closing in around them.

The skipper of the blockade runner knew his stuff. As smoothly as oiled silk they slid through the water, running down along a great sandbank midwater. They moved ghost silent past the watch boats, and then, with the muffled oars being slipped silently back into the water they sped away. The rowers hissed with relief when they were safe in no-man's-land.

Now they crept forward cautiously. It had been easy to spot the watchers on the two-mile-wide river upstream. Innocent-seeming fishing boats had pegged those during the day. But the blockade positions on the downstream side were unknown. They edged on silently, till at last the bow lookout spotted the tiny glow in the mist. It was some deck watch taking a chance and smoking a pipe, but it effectively revealed the bireme they'd been bearing straight for.

Soon they were all breathing easier and skimming towards the runner's usual quay. The mist was still thick and the darkness heavy, but the river rats knew their way well. The haloed lights of the quay should have looked welcoming in the mist. Why then did they seem so threatening?

They nosed in cautiously. The quay seemed deserted. Well, it was nearly five in the morning. The boat slid up to the dock. The skipper gave them an oily smile, which made Keilin even more wary. "Well here we are, good gentlemen and ladies. Now, the rest of my money please."

Sourly Cap handed over the gold. "If we don't get to Dublin Moss soon I'll be going broke. At least we're well and truly out of the reach of the gentlemen looking for you three."

They stepped out of the shallow draft vessel and scrambled up the ladder onto the raised dock. As soon as they were all off the boat, she pushed off. "I don't like that," said Bey. "They haven't time to paddle back up tonight."

"I don't think they wanted to be involved," said the solitary man who had been leaning against the rickety building on the dock. "We've paid them their money for delivering you, after all."

Beywulf's sword slowly came out of its sheath. "You paid for us to be delivered to you, did you? Has it occurred to you, my little cock o' whoop, that they have delivered you to me? And if anything goes wrong, you're going to die." He swung the huge sword experimentally. "I think I'll just rip your stomach open and leave you to get on with it slowly. I watched a man die like that once. He wouldn't stop screaming and trying to shove his own guts back into himself." The jagged edges of the sword gleamed in the light of the few lanterns. All of this was said with Bey's habitual humor. It didn't make it any less terrifying, especially as the hairy man took a casual swipe at a ten-inch-wide wooden bollard, and lopped its top off. The fact that the entire party was advancing on him couldn't have helped either.

Still, he spoke in a very credible attempt at a steady voice. "I am an official of the Amphir Jewel Recovery Unit. It is Amphir's policy to condemn to death, by slow immersion in hot oil, those who kill our officers pursuant on their duty. It's an awful way to die."

"He's scared, Bey," Shael said, her voice hard.

"Brave boy though," said Bey clinically. "I presume you Amphir lads have a reception committee. What do you say, Cap? Shall we go and explain that in a war zone a lot of people end up mysteriously dead. Nobody knows who killed them. Or shall we just kill him and go on and kill the rest, too?"

The Amphir Jewel Recovery Unit man could not see Cap shake his head. "Just kill him and let's get on with it," he said, bored. "These Amphir fools are too cocksure. I doubt if there are more than ten of them. And the river is deep. They won't find the bodies until the fish have eaten the faces."

"No . . . no . . . don't! You . . . you're making a big mistake. There are thirty officers. You couldn't possibly kill half of us. We . . . we just weren't expecting you this evening anymore," said the man, now no longer trying to hide his fear.

"Only thirty. We're late. I'll bet they're asleep. We hardly even need to use the girls. The boy over there walks like a ghost. Won't be the first sleeping man, or room full of men, he's slit the throat of, hey boy?" said Cap, quietly oily and evil.

Keilin did his best to look villainous and grinned, producing a long knife from his sleeve. "Go now, O master?" he asked eagerly.

"No. I think this gentleman has decided to show us the way past his friends. Then in a few miles we'll let him go . . . if he's been good," said Cap, showing his teeth to the jelly that had once been the pride of Amphir's force.