Assassin’s Fate

I waited for night. Before the moon rose full and white, I skulked toward the busy port. Thick had used the Skill to hide himself, but he had always been far stronger in it than I was. I arranged my sheet to cover most of my face and I kept to the shadows even as I sent out ‘Don’t see me, don’t see me’ to any I passed in the quiet streets. There were few folk on the street at night. Only two gave me even a glance. The strength of influence I was now able to exert with my mingled magics was unsettling and reassuring. How much dared I trust it? Could I walk the busy streets in daylight and be unnoticed? To test that and fail might be deadly.

I knew my destination and I did not pause. I headed down to the docks.

A harbour never sleeps. Ships unload or take on cargo by night to catch the morning’s tide. I chose a dock where an ant-stream of longshoremen pushed carts and barrows to docked ships. I stayed to the shadowed areas as I studied the moving cargo. I was hungry again, aching and weary. I could not allow that to deter me.

I found a ship offloading hides. The Fool had spoken of Furnich being a tannery town. I stepped in front of one of the sailors. ‘I need passage to Furnich.’ I enveloped him in my friendliness. ‘You really want to please me,’ I whispered. He halted, glaring at me as I peered from under my sheet. His face went slack. Then he suddenly smiled as if I were an old friend.

‘We have just come from there,’ he told me. He shook his head. ‘It is not a pleasant place. If you must go there, I pity you.’

‘And yet I must go there. Of the ships in port, are any bound there?’

‘The Dancer. The second one, there. Her captain is Rasri, good for most things but a terrible cheat at games of chance.’

‘I will keep that in mind. Good evening to you.’

As we parted, he gave me a loose-lipped smile as if I were his lover.

I felt queasy for what I had done to him as I hastened down the dock to the Dancer. She was a tidy little vessel with a deep hull and small house, one that could be sailed with a very small crew. A young woman was standing on the deck. I sharpened my will then reached toward her with a wave of good fellowship and trustworthiness as I asked for Captain Rasri. Her eyes widened and she smiled at me despite my drapery. ‘I’m Captain Rasri. What business have you with me?’ She saw my silvered face and took a step back.

I smiled at her and offered that it was a peculiar scar, no more than that. She politely looked away from it. ‘I need passage to Furnich.’

‘We take no passengers, good man.’

‘But for me, you could make an exception.’

She stared at me and I felt her struggle. I pressed harder on her boundaries. ‘I could,’ she admitted, even as she shook her head ‘no’.

‘I can be a handy person to have aboard. I know my way around a deck.’

‘You could be a help,’ she agreed, as her brow furrowed.

‘How many days is it to Furnich?’

‘No more than a dozen, if the weather holds fine. We’ve two ports to visit on our way.’

I wanted to tell her that we would go straight to Furnich, but could not bring myself to do so. Already I regretted what I was doing to her. ‘When do we leave?’

‘On the early tide. Soon.’

I was no sooner on board than Motley swooped down and perched on my shoulder. The puzzlement on the captain’s face gave way to delight. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ Motley told her, and did the same when the crew approached. I introduced myself as Tom Badgerlock while the crew was charmed and distracted by Motley, and I settled acceptance over them like a blanket. By morning I was on my way.

It was the most miserable voyage of my life. The ship was called Dancer for a reason. She bowed and bobbed, rocked and wallowed. I was seasick as I had never been before in my life.

Yet despite how wretched I felt, I did my best to be as useful as I had presented myself. I found that I could remove corrosion from brass by smoothing it with my fingers, and made every fitting on Dancer gleam. I smoothed fraying lines so that they ran easily through the blocks and tackles. I ran my hands over stretched and weary canvas to tighten it. I ate no more than one man’s share at the table, despite my constant hunger.

The journey seemed interminable. Imposing my will on the crew took strength and focus when my supply of both was dwindling. I dreaded each port stop, for it meant days tied up as they took on and offloaded freight. Each time we made port, I would slip away at night to Skill a plentiful meal at an inn. Sated, I would return to Dancer and sleep heavily. When I awoke, I would feel stronger for a day. But then the lassitude would return.