A dozen steps and they were moving past the guard who was no more than a slow-moving shadow in his sight. Rory moved to the left, pulling Keltrina closer so that she didn't go off the edge and hit the hull of one of the craft. Jamison had seen as well and moved slightly ... and they squeezed past, but so close that the disturbance of their passage sent the man sprawling.
Rory heard his shout of surprise, but they were already to the boat. No ladder, no gang plank. He had to make a jump.
They sprawled over the edge and came to an inelegant stop on the deck.
The world moved around him, but he could see nothing through the dark red and blue sparkle that blinded him. The ship moved -- that would give them away.
Several men came at a run, one of them huffing to a stop at the guard and ordering others to look around.
"Something ran across the path right at me, sir," the guard said. "Nothing human. Vermin, I think, but didn't want naught to do with it. Not after what happened to old Headlin, sir."
Rory could hear the voices clearly enough. That included the sharp gasp from the man who was still huffing.
"Yes, right. Why are the boats moving?"
"Vermin, sir. I saw the one, but I thought there were others. Jumping on ships and into the water. Oh, they couldn't pay me enough for this work, Lt. Haran, sir."
"You guard against them," Lt. Haran mumbled. "You watch for anyone heading to the ships. We've stopped dozens of traitors already. Don't let none get past you, or you'll be hanging with them."
"Yes, sir," the man said.
The soldiers gathered back around their leader and marched off in quick steps, eager to be away from the docks and back in hiding. The guard they had surprised remained where he was.
"Stupid old sot," the man mumbled. He started back the way he had come, passing their refuge. "I don't know who -- or even what -- ye might be, but get the word out. Kellic killed the king. Warn good Prince Palkin if you can. Tell him Dentin sent you."
And then he moved on.
They still did not move. Rory couldn't. He drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, aware of another voice and whispers of worry. They carried him down a set of stairs into a room with an uncomfortable bed, though no worse than the deck had been.
Time had passed. He could see the light through the ceiling above him and heard two sets of steps. Not Jamison and Keltrina. They were in this tiny closet of a room. Hiding place.
He kept very still.
"When can we leave, then?" someone demanded. "This isn't going to go well with my father. I have perishables to take back to the estate."
"You'll leave when King Kellic says you can." That sounded like Lt. Heron again, especially in the huffing voice as if he had run some distance already. "I'll search your ship."
"Again? Well, go ahead. I've nothing to hide, and if you want to waste your time --"
"Open that door."
They went over the entire ship, and the man never found the small room, about six feet long but no more than four feet high. Rory felt sorry for Keltrina and Jamison, who must have to sit the whole time. As soon as it was safe, he'd change places with one of them.
Before too long, a small door opened in the wall beyond Payton. "You can come back out," a man said. "He's gone again, and it is late enough he won't be back before he drinks his dinner. Oh, you're awake."
Jamison and Keltrina both turned in surprise.
"Awake. Perhaps not alive," Rory said. "How long have I been here? Why are we still at the dock?"
Jamison was crawling out, and Keltrina followed, though she did look back in worry when he rolled off the bed and mumbled something impolite when he tried to crawl out.
"Your pardon," he said, still following them up a short ladder.
They ended up in the Captain's castle, with walls high enough to keep them from being seen by anyone in another boat or on the dock. From the sound of things, there were not many people around.
"Water closet," the stranger said and then moved, so the opening of the door wasn't seen. He clearly had smuggled people before. They let Keltrina in first, then Rory. Jamison followed, and by the time he came back out, the Captain had poured three cups of warm chicken and vegetable soup for his strange passengers. The Capt. was clearly no stranger to sparkling people. That little spot below this deck could easily carry contraband. The bed made it apparent that he took people often.
He also sat at an angle to the view outside and rarely glanced their way, even when he surreptitiously handed them the food.
"Thank you," Rory said, his voice soft. "What have they told you about me?"
"Everything," Jamison was the one to reply. "If Mantinique is going to smuggle us out of here, I wasn't going to keep secrets from him. I trust him. Besides, once we were aboard, he either saves us or turns us in."
"Never," Mantinique said. He was probably no older than Jamison, though he tried to look it. "You are all three safe with me."
Rory tried to trust the man and realized it was stupid not to. It would have been simple for him to have turned them over by now.
"I have other news," Martinique added. He went silent and sipped his food, then waved toward someone outside. That person was soon gone. "A storm is blowing in, according to the dockmaster. We're ordered to tie down and ride it out, and some of us will not be doing so."
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