16
Firian
Firian smiled to himself as he walked up the moonlit gangplank onto the ship. It creaked and thudded, echoing through the chilled air. The breath of the water lapping below floated over his face and through his hair.
His heart was still thumping fast. Finally! He laced his fingers behind his back and leaned back a moment to peer at the star-splashed sky. Finally.
“Master Kess?”
He looked down. The source of the accented voice stood at attention. He was a lithe young man, one of the Endrian recruits, dressed not in the silver and blue armor of Brithnem, but a more subdued bronze and brown. The buttons on his uniform shone in the dim light.
“Yes?”
“Shall I bring the prisoners aboard?”
“Yes, bring them up. Put thirty in the hold of each ship.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll bring them up
