CHAPTER TWENTY
‘I don’t like it,’ said Fox, and Tom could tell that Fox was uncertain about his decision to leave Peta locked in the cell beneath the Fluffy Duck Inn … alive.
They had just left the Inn where two dwarves lay dead on the floor with arrows sticking out of them. The woman named Peta was last seen sitting on the prison bed as far away from the bunched up dirty blanket as she could manage, and Tom had looked at her with apology in his eyes. She gave the tiniiest hint of a smile. Tom might have endangered her life by urging the dwarves to bring her into the gaol, but he had also saved her life by convincing Fox to lock her in the cell. She seemed grateful.
Now, outside, Tom and Fox were walking silently down the alley away from the Inn. Fox suddenly paused, and he turned his eye back to the Inn. He had changed his mind, and he was going to go back to kill Peta.
Tom said, ‘If you go back now she will know what you are there for, and she will scream.’
‘Nobody will hear her scream in the basement and my arrows fly quickly.’
‘I will also scream,’ said Tom quietly
Fox looked at him and a look of derision slipped down his face. His moustache vibrated with contempt.
‘Elion will scream? Like a woman? Like a baby?’
‘I will scream to save her life,’ said Tom
There was a pensive moment, then Fox made a noise of disgust in his throat.
‘Come on.’
Tom followed Fox between the dark houses that crowded onto the cobblestone roads. Fox hadn't put any restraints on Tom, and Tom thought about this. He considered how he might escape. He wouldn't do anything stupid (he had seen Fox’s prowess with a bow and arrow) but he thought that if he could scamper he might be able to hide somewhere amidst the dark houses and cellars and stairways they were walking past. He began to deliberately lag behind.
‘Keep up,’ said Fox.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I have arranged with the captain of the Sweet Louise for you to be taken on board ship at middle night. He will be waiting.’
‘When was this arranged?
Fox ignored the question. He seemed to be in a terrible mood, ever since Tom said he would scream to save Peta’s life, as though the idea of Elion screaming was too much to bear.
Tom realised that Fox had always been going to kill the dwarves and take Tom to the ship in the middle of the night. This arrangement with the captain hadn’t just happened. There had been a deal between Fox and the dwarves to split the reward money, and Fox had obviously upped his share of the split to one hundred percent by taking out his little comrades.
A criss-cross of lane ways and stone staircases descended between dark houses. A dog barked. A putrid smelling man lay beneath a stairway, snoring. Fox walked quietly. He was small so it was easy for him to shift his weight in such a way that his feet didn’t make noise. Tom walked on his tip toes, but still his school shoes made little tap-shoe clatters.
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Finally the lane ways fed onto a broader street that ran from the hilltop castle down to the Milkstone river. The river was smooth and dark and glistened in the moonlight. Occasionally a fish broke the water’s surface. The street ended at the river where a wharf stretched out. Small boats were tied to the wharf. At the far end was a ship with the name, Sweet Louise, written along the bow. The ship had no masts, instead there were three large leather clad oar holes. The oars oars that emerged from the holes were as big as telegraph poles. They moved gently with the river current.
Fox turned to Tom.
In his hand he had the hessian bag that Tom had worn earlier.
‘Put this on.’
Tom slipped the sack over his head and immediately coughed from the grain dust. He found the rip in the bag, and he could see along the wharf to the moonlit ship. Fox took hold of his arm and they walked along the wharf.
The moored boats thumped against the wooden piers, and tugged against the bollards. In some of the boats there were sleeping men.
At the end of the wharf a gangplank ascended from the wharf up onto the deck of the Sweet Louise. At the top of the gangway a man waited. This man was huge, six foot six if he was back on Earth, with arms crossed, the forearms like solid logs. His head was as big and round as a pumpkin, with a beard roaring around his chin. Fox walked up to him and stood as tall as he could, with his narrow chest pushing against his green shirt. The tippy top of his purple hat still only came to the bridge of the big man’s nose.
The big man’s voice boomed.
‘You are late’
‘Trouble with the locals,’ said Fox.
‘Why is your prisoner wearing a bag? Is he somebody important?’
‘He is a political prisoner.’
‘He must be worth something?’
‘Usual fee,’ said Fox breezily.
‘I’ve transported you half a dozen times with fugitives and you have never put a bag over any one of your prisoners' heads before.’
‘Like I said, captain … This is a political prisoner whose identity is a sensitive issue.’
The captain, barring the top of the gangway, with his arms still crossed, looked like he wasn’t going to let Fox onto the ship. While holding the lapel of his purple coat with his left hand, Fox let go of Tom with his right hand so that he could be free to gesture.
‘Actually, I will pay a little extra for a direct passage with my political prisoner.’
‘That goes against the law of passage. You know that I must stop for people requiring carriage.’
‘I will pay you a lot extra.’
There was a moment where nobody spoke, but Tom could hear jingling and jangling as Fox showed the captain some amount of coins. Whatever Fox showed the captain was impressive enough for the captain to say, ‘It looks like we won't be stopping between here and Coronet.’
Fox said, ‘I will get my prisoner settled into the brig then I will take my usual quarters.’
‘Your usual quarters are taken. A town official is taking the room.’
Fox said, ‘Has the official boarded yet?’
‘He will be boarding tomorrow morning.’
‘In that case I will take my usual cabin, and I will pay double to make any problems disappear.’
The captain laughed. This was turning into a very good night for him.
Once Fox had paid the captain double for the room, the captain led the two across the deck toward the stern of the ship. The brig was tiny, and the inside was filled with various flotsam and jetsam: crates and metal lamps and coils of rope and metal tools.
Fox gave Tom a little shove through the door, and Tom bumped his head against the low ceiling.
‘Don’t remove the bag until the captain shuts the door,’ said Fox.
The captain said, ‘I hope you aren’t afraid of the dark.’