Port Senchad was a hub of trade which had all but ceased since Enna Aignech was captured by Amerghin’s forces. Now it was a haven for the looters that were the Tulpha gangs that had once terrorised travellers to the north. They were under a captain, set in place to keep some sort of order in the town, but it was a cruel order.
The folk that lived there, if they had not fled were locked in their homes or removed and told to leave town and not come back, as the soldiers claimed them as their own.
Captain Drogue smiled as he lay back in the luxurious home that once belonged to a rich merchant, a cousin of King Magach.
He beckoned to a slave to bring him another one of the fermented fruit drinks that were in the cellar of the house. They did not have slaves in Muirthemne but now they were mistreated and made to work instead of enjoying their jobs of choice, as they once did under the kind hand of the previous landlords.
It was early in the morning and Captain Drogue relished the idea of what he would do that day after sleeping well into the middle of the day. His plans to return this town into a hub of trade once more, to grow rich and live in this house he was in, find a high-born wife and fill it with his children.
His mind wandered over these scenes of grandeur as he got up and wandered to the balcony that overlooked part of the city and the bay.
He cast his eyes across the city and then looked at the dark horizon where a faint line that differentiated between sea and sky could be seen. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he noticed an even darker patch in the ocean before him. Then an outline of a ship became noticeable, then two more ships, totally devoid of lights appeared.
He started and furrowed his brow. There had been no ships in the centre of the harbour at sunset, yet there were some there now.
“So far, so good” whispered Tuatha. The ships had quietly weighed anchor and the warriors were slipping into the water and swimming the short distance to the dock. Once they had grouped at the pier, they all climbed out and silently made their way into the city. Several guards were dispatched, which was not hard as they had imbibed of the spirits that the port was prevalent in.
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Tuatha noticed a light up the hill, streaming out of a window on a balcony and a man stood looking out. Tuatha motioned for everyone to stop moving. The man peered into the darkness and looked agitated.
“Prepare to fire on him,” he said to one of the sharpshooters next to him. The Archer pulled his bow tight.
The man leaned over the balcony, as if trying to see better. If he saw the ships, Tuatha knew their element of surprise was blown.
The man started and began to turn.
Tuatha dropped his hand and the arrow arced toward the silhouette.
The arrow embedded in the man’s head, and he fell forward off the balcony.
“That’s where we are headed,” said Tuatha, “up the hill, if we take that house, we will have control of the rest of the town.”
When they arrived at the gates the two guards were dispatched, and they stormed into the luxurious house. There was almost no resistance. When Tuatha arrived at the balcony he saw the dead man’s insignia on his clothes, he realised how lucky they had been, that the alarm had not been raised.
Then they went through the town and rooted out the enemy soldiers. Once the townsfolk learned what was happening, they helped their deliverers by pointing out the positions and houses that the enemy were living.
The next morning, the town was cleared out and the alarm had still not been raised. One soldier was found trying to quietly escape but that was prevented.
The whole town came out into the sunlight of the morning and cheered and danced with excitement.
Quickly Tuatha despatched two local messengers who knew the roads, to travel with haste to Athlethan and alert Tethra of their imminent arrival. “Tell Tethra that we will attack on the next new moon,” he said. “Take the parallel roads and stay unspotted.”
They nodded and left, galloping into the distance. This postal service was efficient and fast. They had fresh horses hidden along the secret ways that were there for times such as this.
Back at the ship Laegaire met him on deck. She looked eagerly to the shore; it was the first time she had seen people of their own likeness for a long time. The children looked excited. “Can we go ashore?” begged Celthair.
“We cannot,” replied Tuatha dejectedly. “We must go to Athlethan, I am afraid for our people.”
His shoulders sagged and Laegaire cried for him. He was strong, but still only a boy. “We shall do it together,” she whispered. “I am here.” Her arms went around his chest and her head on his shoulder. Tuatha looked down at Laegaire. His heart arose in his chest along with a surge of hope. This woman was endless in her ability to bring him out of dejection and hopelessness. How could anything stand before the strength of their love? The love for each other and their people.
The ships set sail once more. The wind seemed to support their efforts and they made brisk headway along the coast, toward Athlethan.