Chasing the Prophecy

CHAPTER 8

HIJACKERS

Nia burst into the small bedroom. Jason jerked his head up and squinted at her, tense from being startled awake.

“Are we under attack?” he blurted.

She was smiling. “No, it’s good news! The Valiant has been spotted on the horizon.”

“About time,” Jason said, relaxing. The ship was three days behind schedule. Everyone had been getting really antsy. He blinked and wiped his eyes.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Nia said. “I thought you’d want to know.”

“I’m glad you told me.” The room had no window, so he lacked outside light to help him gauge the time. “Is it morning?”

“Not quite daybreak,” she said. “You can go back to sleep if you want. In fact, you probably should. Tonight is the night!” Nia exited, closing the door.

Jason sagged onto his side and closed his eyes, but he failed to sleep. Eventually he went and found some breakfast. There was a new energy among the drinlings. Concerns had been expressed that the Valiant might have been diverted because somebody had caught wind of the planned hijacking. Every day their strike force had remained in hiding had increased the chance for somebody to discover them. But now it looked like all would proceed as designed.

Jason stewed all morning and into the afternoon. He spent a lot of time on his feet—testing the weight of his new sword, aiming the crossbow Aram had given him, foraging for snacks, listening for news. Pacing. Fretting.

Tonight’s endeavor would be like nothing he had ever done. Hijacking a ship in the middle of the night? This was a big town, surrounded by high walls. The ship would be guarded. There would certainly be fighting. If he and his friends messed up, they would all die.

Nobody expected much of him. According to what Jason knew of the plan, he was basically cargo. After the ship was secure, Drake and two drinling escorts would hustle him aboard. But so much could go wrong. What if they ran across a stray patrol on the way to the ship? He would have to help them fight their way clear. If an alarm was sounded before they boarded the ship, soldiers could come rushing to the waterfront, and he might end up in the thick of the battle.

Jason had practiced for months so that he could contribute in a fight. But since learning to use a sword, he had never confronted an opponent with his life on the line. That test might come tonight, meeting an enemy in combat, no blunted edges, no practice gear . . . no second chances. Skill would be involved, as would composure, as would luck. Either he or the opponent would survive. The prospect sent nervous thrills tingling through his body.

Jason knew he would not be fighting alone. Drake and others would probably be there to bail him out. But anything could happen. Worst-case scenarios could leave him alone in a sea of enemies. No matter how he tried to distract himself, he could not stop anticipating the possibilities.

Not long before sunset, somebody knocked on his door. Jason had his sword out, dueling imagined enemies. He hastily tossed it aside. “Come in.”

Aram entered, still small, and glanced from Jason to the sword on his bed. “Restless?”

“Not too bad,” Jason lied.

Aram smirked. “My room is directly below yours. I could hear you clomping around.”

Jason was not one to blush, but the sudden warmth in his cheeks hinted that this might be an exception. He looked away from the undersized half giant. “I was just doing some exercises.”

Aram plopped down on the edge of Jason’s bed. “Truth be told, I’m a bit edgy myself.”

“Yeah?”

“This is a major operation. With so many people involved, I can hardly believe we haven’t given ourselves away already. These drinlings deserve a lot of credit. They have discipline.”

“Think we can pull it off?”

Aram hesitated. “You know I used to work as a smuggler.”

“Right.”

“I’ve taken plenty of chances in my day. Risk was part of the job. But the risks were carefully measured. Thanks to my precautions, the chances of getting caught remained low. I stayed in situations where nine times out of ten, if I did get apprehended, I would be able to bargain my way out of serious trouble. Even among the officials appointed by Maldor, most consider smuggling necessary to some extent. The service fills a need. I was careful about where and when I operated. I was careful about who I worked with. Careful about what goods I moved. Careful about who I bribed.”

Jason could see where Aram was headed. “And now we’re rushing into something crazy?”

Aram shook his head. “Not necessarily. Not overly crazy. This could work. How do I put this?” He stared down at his clasped hands. “During my career, I occasionally came across opportunities for a really bold mission. A job that might produce a mountain of money overnight or really enhance my reputation. A big score—a chance for glory, riches, or both. These types of jobs almost always involved harming the interests of the emperor in one way or another. Or else they had the potential to draw his attention.

“I created workable plans for several of those missions. I devised strategies that made the projects feasible, kept the risk within reason. But the price of failure in those instances was much too high, so I played it safe. I never implemented those plans. Chasing the big score gets greedy men killed.”

“But tonight . . . ,” Jason prompted.

“Tonight we’re going to hijack an interceptor. Among other duties, it will be my responsibility to captain the ship. I have the most experience at sea, so the job fell to me. I’ve drilled the drinlings on procedures. They mastered their knots and lashings with shocking ease! They’re highly adaptable. Every man knows his role. But most have never sailed a ship like the Valiant. For good or ill, our success depends largely on me—whether I trained them right, whether I lead them effectively.

“I love the sea. I’ve captained before. I’ve dreamed of becoming shipmaster of an interceptor, Jason. There is no finer vessel afloat. The basic design came from the Kadarian warships, but Maldor perfected it. To captain the Valiant will be a thrilling privilege that I never expected to actually experience.”

“But you’re also nervous?” Jason guessed.

Aram shifted in his seat. “I’m discarding years of good judgment. Our actions tonight will publicly insult the emperor and all those in his service. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been in tight spots before. Things have gone poorly, and I’ve fought my way free. But I never sought out such situations. This hijacking will have every imperial agent on the Inland Sea after us. It will draw the personal attention of the emperor.”