The queue was long, and the sun was beginning to creep up over the horizon by the time it was the crew’s turn to enter. Bardrick and the women were obliged to stay outside while six priests wearing gold robes ushered the others between the pair of pillars that stood on either side of the entryway. The air inside was heavy with the scent of incense, and the air was filled with the chanting of unseen priests. After they walked down a short passageway, they arrived at the main chamber where a statue of Ergon, the God of Contracts stood. It had been cast from solid gold and stood over twenty feet tall. He held a set of scales over a pair of platforms that were each just large enough for one person to stand on.
“This will be a private contract,” Firch said.
The robed priests nodded and retreated to a respectful distance.
“Do you know how this is done?” Firch asked the witch hunter.
Andar scratched the back of his head and nodded. “I know of the theory, but as I’ve said, there is no need for this. I’ve agreed to all of your terms, and I’m paying you up front…”
Firch smiled. “Humour me, will you?”
The bald man shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Do you remember the terms we discussed?”
Andar nodded. “I do.”
Firch cleared his throat as the pair stood before the statue and raised his hand to touch his right cheek. “I Firch Seager, do solemnly swear to do everything in my power to bring Andar Eloudin and his prisoner safely to the port of Darvigan within two months of this day.”
“What’s that about?” Duglin blurted. “Isn’t Darvigan only a week’s sail away?”
“We have other errands to run, remember?” Inder hissed.
Duglin swallowed and nodded as Andar raised his hand to his cheek and spoke. “And I, Andar Eloudin, do solemnly swear to pay Firch Seager two hundred sovereigns in advance for this service, and swear not to interfere with his running of the ship as well as to follow any reasonable rules he sets.”
The pair removed their hands from their cheeks to reveal deep brands that quickly faded away. A priest, who had been standing just out of earshot rang a bronze gong.
“The contract is ratified. We’re in business,” Firch declared, wearing a broad smile. “I appreciate your understanding of the loose timeframe.”
Andar sighed. “Quicker would have been better, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
The bald man handed Firch a bulging pouch and shook his head. “You know, I was more than willing to seal this with a handshake like civilized people, and you would have been twenty sovereigns richer.”
The Captain emptied the pouch’s contents into a brimming chest placed before the statue of Ergon before shrugging. “We aren’t in civilized lands. Not yet anyway…”
He looked out the window and frowned. “I know we agreed to meet at my ship at dawn, but I didn’t expect the queue to be so long.”
“I’ll meet you at your ship with the rest of your money, and my guest in an hour, Captain,” Andar promised as he turned to leave. “Now then, if you’ll excuse me, I have much to prepare.”
“All done, Captain?” Tash asked when they emerged from the temple.
“All done,” he beamed.
“You know, I’ve always wondered why this God of Contracts won’t ratify contracts if a woman is one of the parties,” Raimala said.
“It’s not that he doesn’t ratify them,” Tash laughed. “They just won’t be branded if they break the terms, rendering any contract with a woman pointless.”
Raimala blinked. “Why is that?”
“They say that Ergon was a notorious womaniser before he ascended to godhood,” Tash explained. “And once he entered the Pantheon, he couldn’t bear the thought of marring one’s face.”
“It’s strange, the types your Gods accept into their number,” Raimala mused.
“I’ll thank you not to say that in front of his own temple,” Firch admonished good naturedly.
“Well, someone looks like he has a weight off his shoulders,” Bardrick remarked. “How much did we get?”
“Two hundred,” Firch replied.
Bardrick let out a low whistle. “A princely sum for passage for two, but it’s just about enough for us to settle our first instalment to Darnall with a little left over.”
“We’re out of the woods for now,” Firch said, his good humour vanishing as quickly as it came. “However, our job just got harder with that man on board, and we need to do it quickly. I don’t want him or his prisoner on my ship for a moment longer than necessary.”
“Carrying a witch will be dangerous even with a hunter on board,” Inder said soberly.
“If it turns out to be more than we can handle, there’s nothing stopping us from dropping them off at Darvigan early,” Firch said.
“Except for our cargo,” Bardrick pointed out.
“We’ll figure something out if it comes to that,” Firch replied. He removed his hat to run his hand through his hair before shaking his head. “For now, let’s savour our victory and go home.”
“One thing that bugs me though,” Inder said as he looked over at the witch hunter, who was making his way swiftly through the crowd. “There should have been no shortage of crews willing to transport them to Darvigan for two hundred sovereigns, even if one of them’s a witch. Something’s off.”
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“The thought crossed my mind,” Firch said. “But Ergon wouldn’t have ratified the deal if he had a sinister motive, and we have our backs to the wall. All we can do is make the best of the hand we’ve been dealt.”
“I’ll swing by the provisioners,” Inder offered. “I think I can persuade them to make a delivery if I promise to pay them at the docks.”
“Could you get some meat?” Tash asked hopefully.
Inder shook his head. “We’ve got two more mouths to feed and need to stretch our money for two months.”
Tash’s shoulders slumped. Marsel wrapped an arm around her waist and gave Tash a compassionate squeeze. “It was worth a try.”
“That cargo is a chain around our necks,” Firch said. “We can think about pampering ourselves after we’ve offloaded it.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” Tash replied wearily.
The docks were a hive of activity by the time the crew arrived. However, the pier that the Vesper was moored at was completely deserted.
“This is a bad sign,” Marsel murmured as they walked down the pier.
“It’s downright eerie,” Tash agreed as the others quickened their pace.
Up ahead, they heard raised voices, and Marsel frowned. “Normally the people of the docks would be attracted to a fight.”
“Something’s keeping them away,” Firch observed as he primed his pistol. “Are any of you armed?”
Tash picked a nearby stool up and broke off a leg. “I am now.”
Bardrick shook his head. “I’ll find something if a fight breaks out.”
“I’m not,” Marsel said.
“I’m not either,” Duglin stammered.
“Neither are we,” Raimala and Elran added.
Firch handed his gun to Marsel and drew his cutlass. “This will have to do.”
The young woman took the weapon and made a face. “I can only do so much with this.”
Soon, they came across a pair of men in brown cloaks standing with their backs to them, looking at the commotion further down the pier.
“Those are the governor’s goons,” Tash remarked. “What are they doing here?”
“Only one way to find out,” Firch said before tapping one of the men on the shoulder. “Good morning, what seems to be the issue?”
“This pier is closed,” the man snarled.
“On whose authority?” Firch asked, hiding his sword behind his back.
“The governor’s, who’s else?” The man said, pointing at the tin badge pinned to his breast.
Firch scratched the back of his head. “See, that’s a problem. My ship is moored here…”
The man’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re master of the Vesper?”
Firch nodded. “I am, is there a problem?”
“Your guard dog is interfering with an official search of your ship!” the other guard exclaimed. “I insist that you call him off at once.”
Firch frowned. “He’s just following my orders. Why is my ship being searched?”
“It’s on the governor’s orders,” the guard said. “Now, call your dog off.”
“He doesn’t have the authority,” Firch pointed out without budging.
“Well, he does now,” the guard said as he and his partner drew their swords. “Now, are you going to call your dog off, or are we going to have to rough you up some?”
“Bardrick, these gentlemen are in our way. Toss them into the sea, if you please,” Firch ordered.
One of the guards turned in time for a crate the huge man had hurled to catch him square in the face, sending him tumbling off the side of the pier.
“You’ll pay for that!” the other man roared as he swung his sword.
However, Bardrick caught his wrist neatly and plucked the weapon from his hand as though he was taking something from a small child.
“I’ll be taking that, thank you,” he said, before shoving the man into the sea.
“The governor’s grown a pair now that the Imperial Navy’s shown up,” Tash gasped as Firch led them down the pier towards the Vesper.
“Thuley must have sold us out,” Bardrick growled. “He’ll get a brand for this.”
“I wouldn’t count him getting branded,” Firch replied. “He’s cunning if nothing else.”
“I don’t get it,” Tash remarked. “Why didn’t he rat us out to the Empire?”
“The governor was probably more willing to entertain innuendo,” Firch said. “Besides, Thuley doesn’t want to make himself known to them.”
The area around the gangplank was deserted, and the deck was now deathly silent. Firch led the charge up onto the ship where the crew found at least twenty men in brown cloaks, groaning as they lay on the deck sporting various wounds, but none appeared fatal. Fultern stood over them with his rapier in his hand. Darnall and his men, meanwhile, were gathered on the prow, looking scared out of their wits.
“Ah Captain,” Fultern said casually. “You’ve returned. Did you strike a deal?”
“I did,” Firch nodded as he sheathed his sword. “Did they give you any trouble?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Fultern replied.
“Well, clear the deck and make us ready for departure,” Firch ordered. “We’re leaving as soon as our supplies get here.”
“The hell you are!” Darnall cried from the prow. “I want my money!”
“And you’ll get it,” Firch said. “Every penny of what your first instalment, just as soon as…”
“Captain Seager!” a voice called from the pier.
Firch broke into a broad grin. “As it so happens, your money is here now. Bardrick?”
The bear of a man paused as he was about to heave a wounded brown cloak over the side. “Yes, Captain?”
“Go help our passenger with his luggage, will you?”
“Aye, Captain,” Bardrick said.
The man screamed as he was unceremoniously dropped and fell silent when he landed on the pier with a sickening thud.
“Anyone else who doesn’t want to be helped off should leave now,” Firch warned.
Those who were able quickly picked themselves up and helped their stricken fellows to their feet under the crew’s watchful eye. Once the last of them scurried down the gangplank, Bardrick returned carrying a small chest.
“Raimala, count out what Darnall is owed for his first instalment and hand it to him, will you?” Firch said once the chest was set before him.
“Why can’t I do that?” Bardrick demanded.
“Because I told you to help our guest with his luggage, remember?”
“I want payment in full!” Darnall shouted from the prow.
“And you’ll get it in ten weeks, as per our contract,” Firch replied.
“Now see here!” Darnall began, but Firch cut him off.
“Once you’ve been paid, you and your men are getting off my ship,” he warned. “One way or another.”
“I’ll see to it you never do business in this town again!” Darnall cried once Raimala handed him the money.
“I’ll take my chances,” Firch said evenly. “Now, get off my ship.”
The careener and his men scurried down the gangplank and once he was safely on the pier, began shouting threats as he withdrew quickly. Firch shook his head as Bardrick approached him.
“What has you looking so distressed?” the Captain asked.
“Everything’s on board, Captain,” he said. The colour was drained from his face, and his voice was soft. “He wants to come up.”
“Ah,” Firch nodded. “Permission to come aboard granted.”
The temperature on deck plummeted and Duglin felt his hair stand on end when the witch hunter’s bald head appeared over the gangplank. He held a chain that was attached to a metal collar around the neck of the blindfolded girl who walked behind him. Duglin felt an inexplicable sense of dread when he saw her. She looked to be around his age and was rail thin. She wore a simple white dress, and her hands were manacled in front of her and a metal contraption was wrapped around her mouth that prevented her from speaking.
“Ah, Captain,” Andar said jovially. “This is…”
A look of disgust briefly crossed Firch’s face when he saw the girl, but the Captain recovered quickly. “I don’t need to know her name. The two of you are to confine yourself to my quarters for the duration of the voyage. Neither of you are to leave without my permission and you are to refrain from speaking with my crew. Food and fresh water will be brought twice a day, and weather permitting, I’ll allow both of you to roam the deck for thirty minutes every evening while my crew is below decks. Is that clear?”
Andar nodded eagerly. “Generous terms, Captain. Very generous.”
“Good,” Firch said. “Bardrick, show him to my quarters.”
“Aye, Captain,” the man said softly.
“Are we really going to spend two months with them on board?” Marsel asked softly.
“We’re all going to die,” Raimala breathed. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been near a witch,” Fultern added. “I’d forgotten how unpleasant it feels.”
“That’s enough out of all of you,” Firch said sharply. “This is the job. Now, keep watch for Inder. We’re weighing anchor the moment we get our supplies loaded.”