Hired Blades

Lazy Serpent-1

Lazy Serpent

We meet the captain the next afternoon by the docks. She does look tough. She gives firm, clear orders and the sailors obey immediately. She turns towards us as we approach. She looks about forty, making her a good ten years older than Blade, but he never cared about such things. She wears a long skirt that would be hard to navigate around the ropes for anyone who did not grow up around ropes in skirts. Her left ring finger is missing. It must be an old injury, she neither hides nor flaunts it. Wrinkles give character to her pretty, tan face. Looking at it more closely the lines are not deep, I guess she smiles a lot under the scorching sun and the harsh weather marked her face deeper than the lines go. I subtract a few years from her age. Shoulder-length, dark, curly hair frames the pretty face, and her similarly dark eyes sparkle with intelligence. She quickly concludes we’re not dime a dozen mercenaries, which is apparent partly from the above-average quality of our weapons, but mainly from the way we watch our surroundings. I wasn’t even aware of how we divided the docks into sectors and started watching ours until Captain looked from one to the other of us with raised eyebrows.

“I don’t take passengers,” she says dismissively.

“We’re here for the guard job,” Blade answers.

“I can only pay four silvers each for the week,” she bluntly cuts to the chase and turns away, thinking we won’t take that deal.

It’s not a good deal. I lose the same amount on my pre-paid room.

“We’ll do it for six,” Blade bargains.

Captain turns back and looks at him with renewed interest.

“And why would you do that?” she asks, measuring us up again, more thoroughly. “You’re not in debt, otherwise you’d have sold your weapons and you’re not running or you’d go with a faster boat that leaves today.”

“I’ll do it for your pretty smile,” Blade answers.

Here we go. Of course, there’s quite a bit of truth in it. The woman ignores the compliment, smiles cynically, and nods towards me.

“How ‘bout you? Do you also want to guard the Lazy Serpent for my pretty smile?”

Ooh, fun! I let my gaze run down her body the way men usually look at women. I’ve already noted her pretty face and sparkling eyes, now I take my time looking at her body. She is leanly muscled but well rounded where it counts. A belt emphasizes her tiny waist. I try to catch glimpses of her legs and ankles hidden by her skirt. All-in-all she could be considered beautiful in her tough way. I let my eyes slowly wander back up, taking a heartbeat longer around the chest area, as men would expect, but finally rising to her eyes. I give her the barest wink with my left eye so Blade, standing on my right, wouldn’t see. Dancer catches it, but he won’t ruin the fun. I let my smile convey my appreciation as I answer in a husky voice.

“Yeah, Captain, I’d take the job for your smile.”

The show was all for the men, I’m not attracted to women, but I wasn’t exactly lying. I do like her. Whenever I daydreamed about my mother, I always imagined her something like this, and since I was not pick-pocketed yesterday, I can afford to work for free on a whim.

“For a smile and five silvers,” I add for good measure.

“Woo-hoo, Blade, you have serious competition!” Bear teases Blade.

Our scar-faced friend looks at me in disbelief, apparently unable to decide whether or not I’m joking. Five years is a long time and the topic of relationships did not come up yesterday. I can almost see the thoughts race across his mind and based on his lecherous grin, he settles on one involving all three of us.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warn him firmly.

“Too late,” he says without remorse. “Anyway, I’m a free man I can and will think about whatever and whoever I like.”

“Yeah, right, just keep your hands to yourself.”

I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth.

“Don’t you worry about my hands, sweetheart, I’ll find good use for them,” he says and demonstrates with obscene gestures what he intends to do with his hands while thinking about us.

Captain and I roll our eyes and say one word in unison with a derisive sigh “Men!”

We look at each other and laugh.

“Damned if I know why you want it,” she says, “but the job is yours, for five silvers and a smile each. We leave at sunrise tomorrow.”

Bear volunteers to tell the Scribe we’re off to White Anchor. We are free mercenaries and we don’t need permission from anyone, but Control likes to keep track of his resources, and if he feels he can’t trust someone, he stops sending work their way. Control is excellent at allocating assignments, he always sends jobs that fit perfectly and pay well. Telling the local contact what we’re up to is well worth the benefits.

We’re all at the port next sunrise. The air is blessedly cool and a light breeze caresses my aching head. I’m hung-over and tired because we went out drinking again and may have had about four hours of sleep, but we’re not just on time, we’re early. We’re professionals. I arrive before Blade and Bear so I see them approach, carefully checking the perimeter just like I did a few minutes earlier. We never discussed it, that’s just what we do, what we learned, and how we survived so far.

Dancer must have arrived before me. I spot him on top of stacked up crates, but I have no illusions, I know I only see him, because he shows himself. When I hear a seagull’s cry from his hiding place, I know he noticed some irregularity. I hide behind a crate, pull my short sword, and look up for guidance. Dancer signals that whatever he spotted happens towards the river. He gestures something in another direction, so I know he has eyes on at least another one of us. He returns showing three fingers. Three opponents. I sneak a peek from behind my cover and see them approach. Two of them bring a huge crate, the third guards them, sword drawn. They’re coming right towards me. I duck back behind my cover and signal Dancer I’ll take the first. He instructs me to stay low, so I crouch. When the first set of legs appears beside me, I jump and catch the guy at waist height. He doesn’t expect an attack, so he goes down easy and by the time he catches on, we lay peacefully on the ground, him with a sword to his neck, me beside him holding the hilt. If he doesn’t push me, I won’t kill him. I don’t like killing and I want to know what he wants with the crate. I hear a gurgling sound and a puff from behind my back. I spare a glance and see the swordsman with a dagger in his chest coughing up blood. Blade’s handiwork. The second crate-bearer is lying on the ground with Dancer kneeling over him. My guy thinks he can use the distraction and makes a move. I cut his throat minutely. It’s only a graze, just enough to let the trickle of hot blood discourage him from trying anything else.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I tell him, just to make sure. “Stand up slowly and walk over to the others.”

He follows my instructions, and as we turn, I can see the scene better. The crate lies on its side, tilted by the momentum of my tackle. The gurgling man breathes his last labored breath beside it. This was a risky move on Blade’s part. If they were simple carriers coming late for their merchandise, we can’t settle it with an apology. The other crate-bearer is alive and well. He stands up with the pointy end of Dancer’s sword at his heart.

I look around, searching the docks. Everything looks normal. I see no more enemies. Bear appears from inside the barge, supporting Captain. Her steps are uncertain, her hair is sticky with blood.The black curls leave crimson squiggles on her face and neck where they touch. I find it reassuring. This means Blade did not make a mistake. Unfortunately, it also means this job stinks.

We could walk away. We’re still on dry land. The job pays crap, and it turned out to be riskier than advertised even before it officially started. But at least it won’t be boring. Since we’re not doing it for money, I feel I can break the unwritten rule ‘never to question the employer’. I always thought ‘don’t die stupid’ trumped it anyway.

“What exactly are we transporting, Captain?”

“I don’t know. I don’t ask questions, if someone pays for using the cargo hold.”

I believe her. Most traders operate like that.

“Is there anywhere more private we could talk?” the always practical Dancer asks.

“On the Serpent. We already finished loading, I pay the longshoreman and we’ll be alone.”

She’s calm and collected, not fazed by being beaten up or seeing a dead man. She goes away to deal with business, while we make the two robbers haul the crate back to the barge. Bear stays behind to throw the swordsman’s body into the lazy, murky river, then he joins us in the deserted cargo hold. We search the thieves before tying them up. They have nothing apart from their weapons. We ask the usual questions, who sent you, what’s in the crate, what do you want with it, and they naturally refuse to answer. That’s okay, they’ll answer later, when we’re far enough away so people won’t hear their screams. Blade knocks them out until then. We gently pry the crate open, careful not to leave marks on the weathered wood. To my surprise, we find clothes. We look at each other, confused. We unpack to see if there’s something hidden under them, but there’s nothing, just the clothes. They’re fancy and fashionable, but not worth killing for. Come to think of it, the thieves only knocked Captain out and I’m sure they didn’t want to die either. You can hire thugs like these for a few silvers, so it might be worth to ‘buy’ clothes this way.

I scratch my head.

“Hey guys, do you think we might have overreacted?”

“Maybe,” Blade answers befuddled.

“We’re not used to petty thieves,” Dancer agrees uncomfortably.

“Uhum,” Bear adds wisely.

We’re professionals, we just didn’t take the amateurs into consideration. We pack away the clothes and close up the crate. It looks good as new.

“Do we stay?” I ask the others.

“I do,” Blade answers.

The others nod.

“I’ll go up then, tell Captain we’re good to go. We can talk on the way,” I volunteer.

They agree. We leave off. I watch Easy Port stay behind. When every sailor, every rope and paddle is in place, Captain and I go back down to the cargo hold. The guys are sitting on the crate, looking innocent.

“Do you get knocked out often?” Blade asks Captain.

“Very rarely.”

“So this was not business as usual.”

“Of course, not.”

“Who owns the crate?”

Captain goes over to the box, checks the markings on its side, then answers.

“Lord Derici.”

I don’t know the name and judging by their reactions, the boys don’t either.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

“A wealthy merchant in White Anchor.”

“In your opinion, did the thieves want this particular crate or did they just pick one at random?” Dancer asks.

Captain thinks it over.

“They wanted this one. There were others closer to the entrance or even in the dock.

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary about this crate?” Dancer continues with the questions.

“Not really. It wasn’t in the docks overnight, they brought it down this morning directly to the barge, but that’s not entirely unusual.”

We’re silent for a short while, not knowing what else to ask.

“What do we do with the thieves?” Bear breaks the silence, nodding towards the peacefully passed out men.

Normally we’d interrogate them, cut their throats and toss them in the river, but for a box full of clothes? That one death was already too much.

“We could put them out somewhere,” I suggest. “By the time they walk back to Easy Port, we’re already far away. The man who hired them would realize something went wrong if they never returned so their death would gain us nothing.”