Chapter 3

The mandrake was strong and took all but a second to put Riley to sleep. His muscles relaxed and he fell backwards, unconscious.

"What are we going to do with him?" Wolf asked looking down at the sleeping man. I riffled through my pockets and pulled out some leather roping.

"Tie him up," I answered, getting to work. Bringing Riley's hands together I threaded the rope around his wrists and then between his hands. Casting my mind back I tried to remember what Will had taught me. He said that ranger's no longer just tied a prisoner's hands up as tightly as they could. There was a special method that was difficult to squeeze out of and also more effective when taking prisoners because it could be adjusted at will. It was called a thumb cuff and so I looped the rope around Riley's thumb. Then I took a moment to appraise my handiwork. It looked like a child's handiwork. An uncoordinated child.

"What is that?" Wolf snorted in derision.

"Not like you could do any better," I shot back. I took another piece of leather and tied Riley's legs together. Technically you were supposed to take off a prisoner's shoes and substitute the big toe for a thumb, but I was not going to do that. Ever. Then I looped the leather around his hands a few more times. Looking around I saw an empty barrel that looked just big enough to squeeze a man under. I pushed Riley into a crouching position and placed the barrel over his head.

Wolf laughed. "Where did that idea come from?"

I smiled. "He won't be escaping any time soon." Was there air in a barrel that small? I didn't want Riley to suffocate to death.

"There are holes in the wood," Wolf told me. "Don't worry, you won't suffocate your first prisoner."

"How are we going to get on the ship?" I mused, peering around the corner. The Iberian's were still out with their cervaza and mujer bonita but I had wasted some time with Riley so needed to hurry up. The roofs of the building extended outwards so that they weren't flush with the walls. This created a short span of shadow on the edge of the walls. While a fully grown man would have no hope of remaining hidden, there were benefits of being a girl. If I made it around, I could reach the end of the dock from which I could drop down and inch my way towards my target. I would be dangling over water, and if I fell in I would probably drown, but there was no other way to get on-board.

I slowly inched my way into the shadows. I was wearing black so any of the guards on duty should not be able to see me, but I knew that any quick flash of movement would be more likely to gain their attention. It was a long and arduous process. Walking sideways and keeping my back pinned against the wall. Wolf ghosted beside me, making no noise with his soft paws. As I moved to the right, I used my right hand to pat down the wall for any possible dangers. I had seen nails protruding from the edges and didn't intend to get skewered. Feeling my fingers enclose around cold metal, I gently touched the nail. The sharp part was sticking out of the wall a fair distance and I wasn't sure if I could pass around it while staying in the shadows. I tugged on it gently. It was quite loose. Slowly I pulled the nail out of the side of the building. Then I paused, just in case it had structural value. When nothing happened I put the nail in my pocket. It was scarred with rust and probably give me an infection if I cut myself, but bending down to place it on the ground would reveal me.

I kept my eyes on the guards as I moved. They had not been replaced in hours so it was the ideal time to try to sneak aboard. At the end of a watch, guards were more likely to make mistakes. The would be tired and bored and ready to be replaced. Halt had told me this and it made the utmost sense.

Eventually, I reached the end of the building and was finally at the dock. Usually trees offered cover as their branches swayed in the wind, causing shadows to dance this way and that. I counted myself lucky that the waters of the Slipsunder had exactly the same effect on the ships. They did not stay still but instead swayed gently so that the shadows were constantly moving. I watched carefully until I felt like I was in time with the wind. I could not describe how I did it. It was more instinct than concrete thought but I got down on the ground and on all fours crawled to the edge of the dock. Then, while covered in darkness I gripped the edge of the wooden dock and hurtled the rest of my body over the edge.

It was only then that I took a deep breath. This next part would require the highest concentration. I made sure that my grip was tight before I swung my legs around. My boots touched the surface of the water. Gorlog's beard! It would only take one mistake for me to be swallowed into darkness. A part of me began to panic as my blood pumped faster. The palms of my hands began to get moist. What if I slipped? What if I fell?

"The surest path to failure, is your own certainty that you cannot do something."

The words of Halt rang in my head. I gritted my teeth and shook my head, so that my hood completely covered my hair. I could do this. Slowly I swung sideways. I let got of the dock with my right hand and was instantly paralysed. I was hanging over water with only one hand, but as soon as I placed it further along the dock I felt much stronger. Each inch I moved, gave me more courage. Soon I passed the first ship. Then my arms began to protest. They were burning from holding my weight up for so long. It felt like someone was trying to pull my arms out of their sockets. I amended the thought. More like yank. I wanted to cry out in pain, but had to bite my lip. The guards might be bored, but they would recognise that sound anywhere. Sharp stinging pains spread through my fingertips as they scraped against the salt worn wood. Splinters furrowed into my skin. It was like I was touching an open flame. I turned my head and felt relief wash through my body, as I had finally arrived.

Now I just had to climb upon the carrack.

I could of course take the wooden plank and cross my fingers that no one would see me, but I would be dead in a second. The only other option was the rope that moored the carrack to the dock. It was thick and tar covered but I thought I could swing myself up. My only worry was my weight. If I swung from the rope, it would cause the ship to bank to the right. If it was anything more than the normal swaying from the water the men would be alerted and I would be dead in about five seconds. My mind worked through the options. My arms were killing me. I needed to do something fast or I would loose grip and fall into the waters below and invariably drown. I would never make it back to the start of the dock, and if I pulled myself up I would be dead in about three seconds.

I put my right hand to my mouth and whistled. It was shrill and sharp and the guards would have heard it. They would have found me, if it wasn't for their gaze being diverted elsewhere. At my whistle Wolf padded out of the shadows and began howling. He didn't bark so loud that all the soldiers would rouse and wonder what was happening, but loud enough to wake the almost dozing guards who surrendered their posts. As the men moved to the left to see what was howling, the ships tilted in that direction. I moved quickly and grabbed onto the rope. Then I began swinging myself, one hand after the other.

"Càllate perro!" someone shouted. Wolf continued howling to the moon.

"Càllate!" someone repeated and I heard the distinctive snap of a crossbow being released. I almost yelled for Wolf to look out, but my dog had uncanny hearing and had already darted away. I checked myself. He would be fine and it would do us no good for me to be discovered.

"Oi! He's smart!" Juan, the soldier who remained, yelled. "Cierre para arriba!" Half a dozen more arrows were fired, all of which Wolf saw coming and easily evaded. His attention was distracted however, and I saw an archer from his blind spot place his boot in the stirrup and string his crossbow. His fingers enclosed over the trigger and I knew instinctively that it would be a good shot. Wolf would not survive the next few moments unless I intervened. I knew I might be caught, but I couldn't lose him. Not if there was anything I could do.

"WOLF!" I yelled. His head darted up and he evaded the ominous black shafted arrow. I tried to relax and pray that no one had seen me but I knew I was asking for a miracle.

"Intruso! Intruso!" a man from the next boat down declared. I heard a sharp clanging of a bell as there was an eruption of pandemonium. Men filled the carrack I was trying to climb aboard and the ones nearby. I swore. This was not going to end well. I began swinging myself back and forth, trying to build momentum. If I could just jump onto the deck, I might have more chance of surviving. I would have my hands free and could put my sabre to use.

However mid swing I heard a loud snapping sound. A projectile cut through the night air so swiftly that I could not evade it. An arrow thudded into the hull of the ship, mere centimetres from my torso. My heart pounded in my chest. I had almost died. I had almost died by being pinned to the side of a ship. I was in part lucky for the mans terrible shot. I had not bled, but at the same time the arrow had gone through my cloak, effectively pinning me to the side of the ship. I turned my head to see the man stringing another arrow. I knew it took around thirty seconds to do so. The delay was a reason rangers used long bows. But at the same time thirty seconds was not a long time. I desperately tugged at my cloak, trying to free it. Men shouted at each other and looked over the edge of the deck. They could kill me, but it would be messy from above and the archer from the other ship had a direct shot. In desperation I took out my saxe and began hacking at the soft wool. A part of me felt sad to be ruining the cloak that had served me so well, but sympathy for a piece of cloth was idiotic. The seconds ticked away in my head. I was running out of time. I cut faster and cried out in relief when I finally freed myself. I put my saxe away and was just about to swing aboard the ship when I saw the ominous glint of an axe in the light of the moon. Juan held it above his head as he stared at me with a grim look.

"Noooo!" I screamed, but it was too late. With a steady swing, he cut the rope and I fell into the waters below.

† † †

I sat on a blanket beside the lake, staring longingly at all the other children. All the other little boys and girls were splashing around in the cool water, a welcome refreshment on such a hot day while I was stuck on the grass. Grandmamma offered me a cookie but I just crossed my hands over my chest stubbornly.

"I want to swim!" I demanded, pointing at the others. The river was shallow and quite safe but a number of adults supervised. Baron Fergus and his retinue even had their own canvas tent further upstream.

My mother gave me a sharp look. "It is improper for women to expose themselves so. Look at them. Clothes soaked and clinging to their skin. A daughter of mine will not participate in such tomfoolery." I didn't understand what tomfoolery meant but I knew she wasn't going to budge. My mother took a sandwich. I took her favourite type of sandwich and then proceeded to throw it in the dirt.

"Josef, your daughter is throwing a tantrum," mother said, gaining the attention of my father who was busy reading.

He looked up and grinned at my glare. "When she's throwing a tantrum she's your daughter, not mine." My mother huffed.

"Daddy, I want to swim!" I pleaded, crawling over and sitting in his lap.

"You know what your mother said Minny," he tried to reason. "You don't even know how to swim."

"You can teach me."

"Boats exist for a reason," my mother said firmly. "You will never have a need to swim."

† † †

My arms flailed in the air as I screamed, giving up on all attempts of silence. Then like a slap in the face, my body shattered the surface of the water. It was cold. Freezing. So cold that it almost burnt. I tried to reach for something, anything but all I did was splash around. My head sank beneath the surface and pure terror took over. I opened my eyes and saw darkness. Only darkness and nothing else like I was in a grave of some type. I desperately kicked my legs and flapped my arms, floundering around like a child in the midst of a tantrum. Something that felt like a hand enclosed itself around my lungs and squeezed. I gasped, running out of air on which to breath but only succeeding in taking a mouth full of river water. It tasted like dirt and smoke. I gagged. Somehow I broke through the surface and began spitting the water out and managed to take a deep breath before I was sucked back in again. Water filled my nostrils and I started sinking even deeper than before. My lungs were on fire. My water sodden clothes and fine weapons weighed me down. Every kick took all the more effort. I cursed that wretched cloak. So thick and heavy. It had been stolen and now had come back to bite me. I reached for the clasp of my cloak and tried to wrench it off, but I only fumbled around in vain.

Just as I had accepted my fate I felt a sharp sensation on my forearm. I screamed as I saw droplets of red pervade the darkness. I tried to yank my arm free but the pain only intensified as I was dragged. What monster had captured me? Was there a demon in the depths of the Slipsunder that ate human flesh? I wanted to cry. This was all too much. A voice told me to take out my saxe and fight the demon off but I barely had the energy to wallow, much less fight. The demon pulled me upwards, however, and as I reached the air I emptied the water out of my mouth and filled my lungs again. Blinking away the water in my eyes I looked for my attacker, only to see a sopping wet Wolf biting down on my arm. He dragged me to the edge of the dock while I studied the way he kicked his legs in a veil of stupor. He had saved me, just as I had saved him.

Once at the edge, strong arms wrenched me out and I was flung over a man's shoulder. I watched as Wolf was pulled out as well and immediately muzzled. The Iberian's tied a leather strap around his mouth. Wolf, who was exhausted from hauling my weight, could not do much and could only raise his haunches in anger and annoyance. I could barely keep my eyelids opened.

Slowly it came back to me. They had me, as a prisoner. I twisted my arms, and feeling no restraint, mentally prepared for the fight. I was supposed to capture El jefe, not the other way around. I heard voices but it was all in Iberian and I could not make head nor tail of it.

Eventually they carried me up the plank and onto the ship, pulling Wolf on a leash behind me. He seemed to have given in and just followed along with me. I knew he had fight left in him and smiled at his loyalty. The irony though. I had gone through so much trouble to get on the ship undetected, when knowledge of my presence got me on the ship so easily that I didn't even have to use my own legs. What would they do to me? Why would they even bring an intruder when they could have shot me long ago?

The man put me down while Juan faced me. He took in my sodden clothing and I wrapped my cloak around myself, trying to hide my weapons if I could. Blood soaked my tunic but I ignored it. I looked around, assessing any possibility of escape and saw that it would be near impossible with ten armed men still aboard. Activity on the surrounding ships had calmed down now that the danger was captured and accounted for. I noticed wryly that the mooring rope had been replaced.

The men were talking amongst themselves but hushed as foot falls approached from below deck. There were two figures. One was the captain or as the Iberian's would say capitán. Dressed in bold reds and blues, he carried an air of authority. Yet the men lowered their gazes rather then enacting the salute I expected. I turned my gaze to the second figure. Dressed entirely in black there was an aura of mystery about this man. His boots reached his thighs and were quite obviously not bought with a mere handful of coins. A padded shirt and velvet cloak completed the look. I frowned at the shirt. It looked like a corset, only not as bone crushingly tight. I raised an eyebrow in surprise, taking in the figure's body shape and facial features. It was a woman! I studied her face and had to force myself not to look away when her obsidian eyes met mine. They read me and assessed me, even as her full lips, painted purple, curved into a smile.