After I wake from my nap I have nothing to do but think. I watch the trees float by as we slowly advance upriver. I think about the consignee, a tradesman smuggling grenolites. The more I think about it, the worst this stinks. I understand the smuggling part, that’s reasonable. Even if the gems are not stolen, as long as no one knows about their existence, they are safer hidden than surrounded by an army. The more guards you have, the more obvious it is that the cargo’s valuable, therefore worth stealing. Moreover, you have to pay the guards, decreasing your profit. What I can’t imagine is that anyone would leave such a cargo unattended. I’d certainly hire a guard on the down low. And a guard was indeed hired. Blade. He brought the job, an easy, underpaid job. It was utterly believable for
