Chasing the Prophecy

The largest ship by far was off to the right, a long vessel with three towering masts rigged with numerous sails. Four lanterns brightened the deck. Jason saw at least two soldiers patrolling.

Drake furrowed his brow. “We should have the ship by now.”

He led them back a block, then along a cross street. They carefully approached the dock again. They came out closer to the Valiant, the name of the huge ship visible on the side. At the end of the next street over, a couple of inns remained brightly lit. Music could be heard from one of them.

Nia emerged from the shadows. “Come with me,” she whispered.

“What’s the problem?” Drake asked as she led them to a dark nook shielded by a low fence. They had a clear view of the Valiant.

“A patrol of six guards was roaming the docks,” Nia said. “We had to wait until they moved beyond sight of the Valiant. We took them quietly.”

“They’ll be missed sooner or later,” Drake warned. “Probably sooner.”

“The plan is in motion.” She nodded toward one of the lit inns. Aram came staggering out, wrapped in his huge leather cloak. He lumbered toward the Valiant. “More soldiers than we would prefer are still celebrating at the inns. They must sleep less than I do.”

“This late, none of them should be terribly useful in combat,” Drake murmured.

Jason watched Aram amble along the pier toward the Valiant. As he approached the ship, a soldier came to the top of the gangplank. “You there,” the sentry called in a raised voice, “state your business.”

Aram shouted his reply. “Some seamen at the Broken Barge were bragging about sailing aboard an interceptor. Never seen one up close.” He started up the gangplank, swaying unsteadily.

“Now you’ve seen one,” the soldier said. “I must ask you to come no closer.”

Still walking, Aram waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t spoil a beautiful night! I just want a peek.”

“Turn around, sir. At once. This vessel is imperial property.” Three other soldiers had joined the first one at the top of the gangplank.

Aram kept coming, taking his time as if the steepness of the gangplank were tiring him. “Don’t be sour just because your mates are out having a good time. I wore your colors for a season, in service of the emperor. Never aboard a ship like this, mind you.”

All four of the soldiers drew swords. “I’m in command here,” a different soldier said, his voice stern. “If you wore our colors, you know our duty. You’ve been out too late, friend. You’re not thinking right. Go on home. Don’t make us remove you.”

Aram was now three-quarters of the way up the gangplank. He stumbled and fell forward. After lying still for a moment, he rolled onto his side. “More comfortable than it looks,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take a breather.”

“You will not,” the lead soldier said, sounding exasperated. “Get on your feet and shove off. Last warning.”

Aram let out a long moan. “I may have overdone it tonight, lads. Something I ate wants back out. I don’t think it means to come quietly.”

The lead soldier gestured for two of the others to approach Aram. They sheathed their swords and started down the gangway.

Aram began to sing, the words strained, halting, and somewhat off-key. “Old Ingrim was a man of the sea, the sort you’d hope to know. He’d buy you a drink if you shot him a wink, then tell you—”

Retching sounds interrupted his tune.

The two soldiers had reached Aram, but they paused, looking at each other. They spoke to Aram too quietly to be heard. Crouching, each grabbed an arm, grunting as they helped the huge man stand. Once they had Aram on his feet, they gazed up at him, clearly impressed by his size. One of them kept a hand on the hilt of his sword. The other kept a hand on Aram, steadying him.

“Don’t tell my wife about this,” Aram blustered. “The woman is hard enough to stomach when I mind my manners. Don’t send me home. I’d be safer in a nice cozy cell. Hear my advice, lads—if you’re ever tempted by marriage, get a dog instead. You’ll thank me.”

Aram took little wobbly steps without going anywhere, as if struggling to maintain his balance. He hunched, leaning from one side to the other, a hand on each of the soldiers for support. Then he doubled over, making retching sounds again.

Figures began to appear on the opposite side of the Valiant from the gangplank. They stealthily advanced on the soldiers from behind.

“This is disgraceful,” the lead soldier complained. “Walk him down to—”

His words were cut off as he was blindsided by attackers. The two soldiers at the top of the gangplank went down silently. Aram wrapped his powerful arms around one of the soldiers helping him, snapped his neck with a precise jerk, then swiftly did the same to the other man.

“Now,” Nia breathed. She led Drake, Jason, and the other drinlings out of hiding and toward the warship. One of the drinlings extinguished the dockside lantern nearest the Valiant. The night air smelled of brine and wet wood. As Jason reached the pier, he found that unless he stepped softly, his feet boomed too loudly against the planks.

Aram had hoisted the two soldiers on the gangplank over his shoulders and now carried them up to the deck. Presumably the splash would be too loud if he simply tossed them in the water. Jason was impressed by Aram’s performance. The distraction had fully occupied the soldiers while several drinlings had accessed the far side of the Valiant by rowboat and climbed up to the deck.

A drinling beside Jason carried Aram’s heavy shirt of overlapping metal rings, the armor clinking as he ran. Jason followed the drinling up the gangway.

“To your places,” Aram commanded in a loud whisper. “Do every task we rehearsed.” He shed his heavy cloak, accepted the armored shirt from the drinling, and put it on. Drinlings swarmed into position, some grabbing lines, some climbing the masts. Aram began striding about, giving specific instructions. Jason took up his position beside Nia near the top of the gangplank.

“Dousing the lantern was the main signal,” Nia murmured. “Our fighters should be advancing along the walls.” She held a bow with an arrow nocked and ready, eyes scanning the docks.

Jason stared at the impressive walls that stretched from dry land out into the water of the harbor. By the light of the distant cressets along the top, he could not yet see any activity. A sudden clash of steel rang from below the deck. Then he heard a strangled cry from beyond the ship, off to the right in the darkness.