At fifty yards distance, from behind a detritus pile of scrap metal, I raised my head to study the scene around the ship. The vessel seemed largely finished. Much of the scaffolding had been removed and the catwalks strung high above the decks were empty of laborers. I saw a lot of guards, which suggested that Vohanna did not trust her own workers much. I liked that idea.
I noted one officer in particular, an arrogant and strutting fellow who wore a gold-chased helm and a scarlet cloak while the others wore helmets and cloaks of simple gray. There was something about him I did not care for—perhaps it was just that he seemed too aware of his duties while his men looked lax and bored—and I waited until he had gone around the far side of the ship before acting on the vague plan forming in my
