scene a sinister look. Had Ti'Shed been expecting
the door-knocker?
No. He's wearing
nightclothes. He looks half asleep. His
white hair – what little was left – was disheveled. He had either
been asleep or was going to great lengths to look like he had been.
Krothair was jumping to conclusions.
This isn't a test,
Krothair. Just the odd midnight caller.
He had a hard time hearing what was said, if
anything. The person outside the door held something through it on
his upturned palms. The slant of his arms told Krothair that the
person was kneeling. Ti'Shed reached out and grasped the long thin
object: a sword in a beautiful scarlet sheath.
Ti'Shed stood perfectly still, the candle in
one hand, the scarlet sheathed sword in the other. All was stone
for a moment. Only the candle flame danced, seeming more like
liquid than flame. The door-knocker's arms withdrew out the door
and it closed with a click.
Krothair saw the candle flicker and heard a
slight hiss. Had water fallen onto the flame? He traced a vertical
line up, but directly above it were Ti'Shed's eyes.
Not water.
Tears.
The sword master was crying.
Chapter 5 – The Lonely Ship
-1-
“H ere it is!” Halimaldie shouted, running down the
beach.
The ocean breeze whipped his long brown hair
into his face, pieces of it tangling in his close-cropped beard.
Was there a storm coming? He scanned the horizon, but it was too
dark to tell anything much. He liked to make it his job to know
everything, but sometimes that just wasn't possible.
But he had found the ship just where the
scout had said it would be.
The Lucky Maid wasn't supposed to be
washed up on some faraway beach. It was supposed to have been at
the Haroman docks three days ago. Halimaldie had been there waiting
for it. Normally he didn't show up for the loading and unloading of
his vessels, but this was quite possibly the largest and most
profitable shipment he had ever been a party to, and when it hadn't
shown up he had feared for the worst.
Now he stood on the beach
in the wavering torchlight. Twenty sell-swords stood behind him. He
had hemmed and hawed briefly on the correct number of people to
bring. He wanted as few eyes as possible on this debacle. Rumors
were dangerous, and a botched operation could undermine his
empire. Especially an operation of such
importance.
The gangway lowered to the beach, slamming
down with a loud thud, causing Halimaldie to jump. It was too dark
to see much else so he grabbed a torch and moved farther forward,
the sell-swords walking slowly behind him, their weapons clinking
quietly.
“Tell yer boys to stay back,” a voice
hissed, making Halimaldie jump again.
Halimaldie squinted into the darkness behind
him.
Telin Fucking
Lightbearer, he thought with a silent
groan.
The Kingsguardian stood
just a few steps behind Halimaldie, but even in the torchlight it
was hard to pick him out. Something about him wavered and seemed to
reject the light. Halimaldie had heard that Telin was a Servitor,
but had to admit he really didn't know much about those powers, or
even if they were real. Some Servitors
have the ability to bend time? Is that true? Seems like an
exaggeration. In Halimaldie's business he
had always appreciated the benefits that exaggeration could bring
to the table, and certainly didn't begrudge others the same
luxury.
But now the Kingsguard was
involved in this. Damn. What interest does
the crown have in this shipment other than skimming their taxes off
the top? And how did he find out, anyway?
“You have authority here?” Halimaldie asked.
Now he was rubbed completely the wrong way.
Telin nodded. “Aye, D'Arvenant.”
It rankled him that Telin had addressed him
by his surname, but Halimaldie turned to his sell-swords and gave
them the signal to back off. A few of them looked confused, but
they obeyed.
The water rolled along the shore in its
rhythmic pattern as the men retreated into the night.
Shh shh shh.
Shh shh shh.
Shh shh
the door-knocker?
No. He's wearing
nightclothes. He looks half asleep. His
white hair – what little was left – was disheveled. He had either
been asleep or was going to great lengths to look like he had been.
Krothair was jumping to conclusions.
This isn't a test,
Krothair. Just the odd midnight caller.
He had a hard time hearing what was said, if
anything. The person outside the door held something through it on
his upturned palms. The slant of his arms told Krothair that the
person was kneeling. Ti'Shed reached out and grasped the long thin
object: a sword in a beautiful scarlet sheath.
Ti'Shed stood perfectly still, the candle in
one hand, the scarlet sheathed sword in the other. All was stone
for a moment. Only the candle flame danced, seeming more like
liquid than flame. The door-knocker's arms withdrew out the door
and it closed with a click.
Krothair saw the candle flicker and heard a
slight hiss. Had water fallen onto the flame? He traced a vertical
line up, but directly above it were Ti'Shed's eyes.
Not water.
Tears.
The sword master was crying.
Chapter 5 – The Lonely Ship
-1-
“H ere it is!” Halimaldie shouted, running down the
beach.
The ocean breeze whipped his long brown hair
into his face, pieces of it tangling in his close-cropped beard.
Was there a storm coming? He scanned the horizon, but it was too
dark to tell anything much. He liked to make it his job to know
everything, but sometimes that just wasn't possible.
But he had found the ship just where the
scout had said it would be.
The Lucky Maid wasn't supposed to be
washed up on some faraway beach. It was supposed to have been at
the Haroman docks three days ago. Halimaldie had been there waiting
for it. Normally he didn't show up for the loading and unloading of
his vessels, but this was quite possibly the largest and most
profitable shipment he had ever been a party to, and when it hadn't
shown up he had feared for the worst.
Now he stood on the beach
in the wavering torchlight. Twenty sell-swords stood behind him. He
had hemmed and hawed briefly on the correct number of people to
bring. He wanted as few eyes as possible on this debacle. Rumors
were dangerous, and a botched operation could undermine his
empire. Especially an operation of such
importance.
The gangway lowered to the beach, slamming
down with a loud thud, causing Halimaldie to jump. It was too dark
to see much else so he grabbed a torch and moved farther forward,
the sell-swords walking slowly behind him, their weapons clinking
quietly.
“Tell yer boys to stay back,” a voice
hissed, making Halimaldie jump again.
Halimaldie squinted into the darkness behind
him.
Telin Fucking
Lightbearer, he thought with a silent
groan.
The Kingsguardian stood
just a few steps behind Halimaldie, but even in the torchlight it
was hard to pick him out. Something about him wavered and seemed to
reject the light. Halimaldie had heard that Telin was a Servitor,
but had to admit he really didn't know much about those powers, or
even if they were real. Some Servitors
have the ability to bend time? Is that true? Seems like an
exaggeration. In Halimaldie's business he
had always appreciated the benefits that exaggeration could bring
to the table, and certainly didn't begrudge others the same
luxury.
But now the Kingsguard was
involved in this. Damn. What interest does
the crown have in this shipment other than skimming their taxes off
the top? And how did he find out, anyway?
“You have authority here?” Halimaldie asked.
Now he was rubbed completely the wrong way.
Telin nodded. “Aye, D'Arvenant.”
It rankled him that Telin had addressed him
by his surname, but Halimaldie turned to his sell-swords and gave
them the signal to back off. A few of them looked confused, but
they obeyed.
The water rolled along the shore in its
rhythmic pattern as the men retreated into the night.
Shh shh shh.
Shh shh shh.
Shh shh
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