resolution, but only half. He knew how much this was an opportunity to relieve some small portion of the guilt owned by his family. How could he do anything but try to make that happen? Beyond that, it just felt good. Captain of a ship again. With a crew who jumped at his orders, even if he had to explain his needs each time. And they trusted him. They would not let him pilot them into the enemy's mouth otherwise. Skylene had even given him a dagger, a small, straight blade that he had shoved through his belt. Yes, he was one of them for the time being.
Working the ship closer to the docks, he darted his eyes about, searching at the same time he checked for danger. He knew the barrels would be here somewhere. The league never went far without their flaming weapon. It would be stored off the ships if possible, somewhere removed from the center of activity.
There! Yes, there on the far side of the harbor, at the end of a long arm of pier, sat stacks of drums. He knew them by their color: bright red. Hundreds of them. There was activity at the pier next to it, but the area around the barrels was deserted. Calmly, trying to think slower than the pulse beating in his throat, Dariel steered across the harbor, turned and angled in, coming to the docks on the far side, so that they would be sheltered somewhat from view.
Once docked and tied secure, Dariel turned to the waiting crew. 'This is it. The pitch in these barrels makes an unholy fire. It'll blast that soul catcher to pieces and leave a fire that'll burn for days there. The more barrels we can get, the better. Let's go, quickly but calmly.'
They could not be sure that the league used the people as laborers yet. Since slaves kept by the Lothan Aklun weren't necessarily adorned in the same ways, those with the most noticeable signs of 'belonging' stayed hidden. Skylene, Tunnel, the two others of the Kern clan, and Birke crouched on the far side of the deck. Under Dariel's direction, the others began the work of shifting the barrels from the pier to the boat.
The next pier over seemed to be closer each time Dariel glanced at it. Fortunately, the boat moored there was on the far side, and the attention was thus directed away from them. A group of Ishtat Inspectorate guards stepped off the vessel and stood for a time talking beside it. Dariel kept up the motions of loading and securing, but he watched them every chance he got. He just caught the scent of the mist pipe one of them was smoking. Enjoy it, he thought. Just relax and enjoy the pipe and don't turn around.
The barrels were heavy enough that they had to be tilted and rolled along on their rims, and then carefully leaned from the dock into the hands on board the ship waiting for them. This last move in particular needed to be done slowly, as demonstrated when Tam let a drum loose too soon. It crashed down on the edge of the deck and teetered a moment. Then it fell back against the pier and splashed into the harbor's gray waters.
'Forget it,' Dariel said. 'Keep going.'
'I'm sorry,' Tam said. 'I thought-'
'It's floating,' another observed.
Dariel cursed. There was no retrieving it, as it bobbed under the pier, just out of reach. 'Leave it,' he said, hoping it would stay trapped among the pier's many pylons. Tam continued to apologize, but Dariel cut him off, not as kindly as Skylene had been with him earlier. 'Just keep working. Try to look like you know what you're doing.'
A few minutes more, and Tunnel had had enough of waiting. He crammed himself into Birke's shirt, though he could not button it and his bulk threatened to burst the seams of the shoulders. He went to work, and Dariel was glad he did. Where the rest struggled to carry one barrel between them, Tunnel somehow got his arms around two at a time, carrying one under each arm. With this help, the stacked rows on the boat's main deck grew quickly. Dariel kept busy making sure they were properly secured. A few more minutes and they could-
'Dariel?' It was Skylene. Just one word, but the tone in which she spoke it told him everything. Instead of looking at her, he scanned the docks. He spotted the problem quickly.
An Ishtat guard stood at the end of their pier, watching them. Dariel turned to Skylene and, with a motion of his eyes, reminded her to stay hidden. By the time he had turned around again, the guard had started toward them.
'We're going to have company,' Dariel said, just loud enough for those hefting the barrels to hear him. 'Keep working. Except you, Tunnel-get out of sight.'
The Ishtat strode toward them now, eyes fixed. He wore the cloak of his order, bright white and trailing behind him as he walked. A thin sword hung at his side, and one gloved hand rested on its hilt. 'Hey!' he called. 'What are you doing? You think you can just drop barrels of league pitch to float away? Look!' He pointed toward the water on the other side of the pier. The barrel had floated free. 'Get out there and fetch that!'
Dariel bowed his head and motioned his apology with his hands. He called the others and acted as if he would just pull out and pick up the floater. The man carried on toward them, however. As he got closer his steps slowed. And when he was near enough to make out individuals, he squinted, for a moment so perplexed he could manage nothing else. And then he said, 'Who are you? You aren't one of ours.'
Dariel smiled. 'I?' He leaped from the deck to the pier and walked toward the Ishtat, holding an amiable expression. 'Who am I?' He laughed and cocked his head in a manner that suggested he had a story to tell, one that would explain all this, one that would make them both laugh, even if the tale did not make the teller seem entirely free of guilt.
He tried to convey all this in the few steps it took him to reach the man, and it must have worked. Instead of drawing his sword or signaling an alarm, the guard had his chin raised and his hands planted on his hips. 'Yes. Who are you, and what do you-'
Dariel swept his hand up, bringing with it the dagger. He slammed the blade in the soft center of the guard's neck. The man's face registered shock. His arms hung limp, and this may have fed his terror. His eyes cast about as if demanding that his body do things that it refused.
The prince said, 'My name is Dariel Akaran, if you must know.' He yanked the blade to the side, and pushed the guard's body over, so that the spray of crimson jetted away from him. Moving with the body's momentum, he kicked the guard from the pier. As the body splashed into the water, Dariel cast his eyes over the harbor, the deck of the nearest ship, portholes in its side, and the street leading away from the water. Nothing. No one seemed to have noticed. Not yet, at least.
He spun and said, 'Last of the barrels in, lads, and then let's go!'
The others, Skylene included, stared at him. Birke's jaw dropped, exposing his canine teeth. Tam was so wide-eyed it looked like he feared for his own life. Even Tunnel looked uneasy.
'What?' Dariel asked, leaping back on the boat. 'You think this could be bloodless? Gape at me later. Now let's keep moving or there'll be a lot more blood in the water. Quickly now, quickly.'
The last barrels went on the deck. The ropes were untied. Dariel steered the boat away from the pier and turned it toward the open water. This was the part he had feared most. To be so close to success but needing moment after moment after moment in clear view of anyone watching. Work on the docks might not draw much attention, but a ship outbound in the middle of the night was a different matter. Dariel felt a hundred eyes drilling into the back of his head. He fought the urge to turn around as much as he held back from surging forward at full speed.
Steady, he told himself. Just steady forward. Off to make a delivery, that's all. Nothing suspicious here.
Right there before him, bobbing for anyone to see, floated the loose barrel. He wanted to ram the thing and fly, but if anybody saw him sail by it without retrieving it… He angled the boat toward it, pulled up until it bumped the side, and then instructed the crew to pull it aboard. Seconds passed as they grasped for it, but it slipped out of reach.
Skylene appeared beside him, looking back where he would not. 'The body is in plain sight now,' she whispered.
For the first time that night, sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down over his temples. He had to wipe it from the corners of his eyes. Still he did not turn around. He slid the boat toward the barrel, gently. Tam appeared with a boat hook. With it, they got the barrel secured against the side at the stern. Finally, they hauled it up.
Steady forward.
'They've seen it,' Skylene said.
Dariel cursed. He tried to find something else to say, but nothing came.
'One guard is motioning to some others. He's pointing at the water.'
'Giver!' Dariel ground through his teeth, watching as the headland crept closer. It might have been a plea, but it sounded more like a threat. Skylene glanced at him a moment, and then looked away.
