After jogging northeast for four days and making good time, Fawnlum reached the port town of Rijult.

Now she and the rest of her company walked briskly along the docks of the trade city, to keep up with Sienna, who had secured passage across the Brierren Channel.

“You’re not putting us in a leaky rowboat, are you?” Fawnlum called out.

“Of course not,” Sienna snapped back.  Then she stopped at a slip, and pointed.

To Fawnlum’s unaccustomed eyes, it looked like a good ship.  It was more like a schooner.  But the Bedlir was big for its class.  The flag was one she did not recognize.

The captain was standing on the dock, as if he had been expecting them.  A tall, powerfully-built man with a black beard and sun-worn skin, his posture was straight and strong.  He filled out his red coat and black boots as easily as a military commander.  The garments showed wear, but not neglect; and he kept one thumb hooked on the belt that held his sheathed cutlass.

On his left forearm, he wore a curious, green armored gauntlet.  It was hard not to notice, as the metal-work was exquisite.  The plates along the forearm flared outward like the fins of a fish.  Even the fingers and knuckles showed great workmanship, with tiny bands of armor wrapped around each digit, but not encumbering a single joint.

His manners were appropriate, although his demeanor was aggressive, like someone accustomed to being in charge.

“Captain Quanou, Lady,” he said, after Sienna presented her.  “I don’t take a lot of passengers.  But your friend here says your need is great.  And since there’s only you five, there’s not a lot to weigh us down for a few more pieces of gold.  35 now, and 35 when we get to Duanhaum.”

Fawnlum looked at Sienna.

“It’s a steal,” the money-conscious warrioress pointed out.

“Duanhaum is south of Daggerford,” Fawnlum reminded her.

“It’s the town he’s bound for.  It’s a straight path from here across the Channel.  Then it’s a short walk to Daggerford.”

“Fine.”

“And since you have the look of warriors to go along with those swords, part of the deal is defending the ship if we get attacked.”

“Who would – ?”

“Pirates.  The trading season is starting fast.”

She cast a glance at the crew on the ship.  Those she could see, went about their tasks quickly and efficiently, showing the mark of able-bodied seamen.

“Agreed,” she said.

“Get yourselves aboard.  We’re casting off within the hour.  Frout!” he called to one sailor on the upper deck, “show them where to put their things.”

With a thin red scarf tied over his dirty-blonde curls, Frout led them up the gangplank.  Once on deck, Fawnlum again noticed the length and breadth of the ship – – over 100 feet long, and 25 feet wide on the main deck.  But the curve of the hull led to a greater volume below decks.

Once down the ladder, she noticed an impressive inventory of hides bundled and stored toward the bow.

“Oh,” she said, genuinely interested.  “Nice furs.  Did they come from the north or south of the Coast?”

“North,” he replied dryly.

“I hope you didn’t pay too much for them.”

“You can count on it, mu’um,” he answered curtly.  “Captain Quanou always gets the best deal.”

“How long were you in Rijult’s port?” she asked, still with a curious air.

“I don’t need to know the trading, mu’um.  That’s the Captain’s job,” he said.

She asked no more, and let him lead her and her friends to the aft bunks.  Then she told Caitlyn and Dreighton to climb into the rope hammocks, and get some sleep.

“If you that’re not sleepin’ don’t mind,” Frout said, “how about helping us man the ship?”

“Certainly,” she pleasantly replied.

Frout started climbing the ladder back up to the deck.  With his back turned, Fawnlum flashed her eyes at Sienna.

While she silently darted back to the bunks to convey the message, Fawnlum and Halrick shared a look.  Neither these furs, nor the ropes used to bind them, had come from the Coast.

Quickly drafted into service, Fawnlum worked with her kinsmen, doing as the sailors bade them.  But they never stopped looking over their shoulders.

To Fawnlum, the choppy seas were enemy enough.  May the powers of wind and sea be cursed for such a nauseating form of travel.  More than once, she had to steady herself, lest she lose her stomach over the rail.

The sailors made good-natured cracks about the land-lubbers’ seasickness, which she took in stride.

She kept her watchfulness, however, when the crew encouraged her more than once to lay down her heavy saber in the midst of the manual labor.