breathed. He nodded over his shoulder towards the darkened shape of a ship towards the edge of the harbor, anchored near the breakwater.
Kendril sat up in the dinghy, looking with interest. The cargo ship was large, a three-master. There were no lights aboard her. Kendril thought he could make out movement on the deck.
“I don’t want to go on that ship again,” Marley began, his voice starting to quaver. “I already told you, sir, what’s down below—”
“What’s down below isn’t why I’m boarding her,” Kendril said tersely. “When we pull up alongside her I want you to go up first.”
Marley stared at his companion in horror. “Me? But I thought—”
“Hush,” Kendril hissed. He put one hand on the hilt of his pistol as they neared the ship.
A face looked over the side. “Who goes there?” a voice called.
Kendril glared at Marley from under his raised hood.
The old sailor took a deep breath, then called back. “Ahoy! It’s just me, old Marley.”
There was a pause. “And who’s that with you, then?”
Marley froze. He looked over at Kendril for inspiration.
Kendril tightened his grip on the pistol and half-drew it from his belt.
“Stefan,” Marley said at last. “It’s Stefan. Drank like a fish, he did. I’m bringing him back on board to sleep it off.”
There was a grunt of acknowledgement. The face disappeared.
Kendril looked at Marley questioningly.
The old sailor brought in the oars. “You shot Stefan,” he said in a low voice.
The dinghy bumped against the side of the ship, rocking up and down under the gentle swells of the harbor.
“Go,” Kendril whispered.
Marley closed his eyes, breathed a whispered prayer, then grabbed the rope ladder. He clambered up onto the deck.
“Thought you’d stay out longer for shore leave,” the sailor chuckled as Marley climbed over the railing. “Rumor is we’re leaving on the morning tide, and—” He turned as Kendril climbed on board, and his eyes grew wide. “Hey, you’re not—”
Kendril leapt forward before both his feet were even on the deck and drew his sword.
The sailor reached for a cutlass at his belt, his hand frantically grasping for the handle.
Kendril smashed the hilt of his short sword into the man’s face.
Without a sound the sailor crumpled to the deck boards and lay still.
Across the deck another sailor turned, then ran for the hatch that led below.
Kendril spun. A knife flashed in his free hand, glinting in the soft moonlight. A half-second later it blurred through the air.
The second sailor gave a strangled gasp and collapsed to the deck a few paces short of the hatchway. The knife protruded from his back.
Marley gave a stifled cry and dashed for the rope ladder.
Kendril intercepted him and smashed the cook hard against the ship’s railing.
“You’re crazy ,” Marley gasped, “I won’t—”
Kendril clamped a gloved hand over the cook’s mouth. “That dinghy’s the only way back to shore short of a long, cold swim, and I’m not letting you take it. Now take me to the woman, or I’ll gag you and tie you to the mast.”
“I won’t—“ Marley blubbered. “I—I can’t —”
“Hey!” came a shout from behind them.
Kendril and Marley both snapped their heads around.
A sailor was standing by the open hatch, staring at his two fallen crewmates in horror. His eyes fastened on Kendril for a moment, then he swung back to the hatchway. “Intruders!” he yelled. “We’ve been boarded!”
“ Talin’s ashes ,” Kendril cursed. He released Marley, stepped back and whipped out a flintlock pistol from underneath his cloak.
The sailor stepped forward. He put his hand on the hilt of a long knife tucked into his belt.
Kendril’s pistol banged out through the driving rain, lighting the deck in a flash of orange fire.
With a cry the sailor lurched back through the open hatch.
Marley leapt up and dove for the rope ladder again.
Kendril glanced over at the fleeing cook. He
Rebecca Lorino Pond, Rebecca Anthony Lorino