He looked at the men John had rounded up. There were sixteen of them. All looked disreputable, but none looked particularly fearsome. Still, he had seen enough harmless-looking men who turned out to be killers in his days to judge too much on appearances. He said, “Do any of you know how to work aboard ship?”
Five of them held up their hands. Roo shook his head. Pointing to the first one, he said, “You, if you hear me shout, cut loose the anchor.” To the second, he said, “If you hear me shout, raise whatever sail you can reach.” To the last he said, “And you, head for the tiller and steer us for open water.” Glancing at the other men, he said, “The rest of you, do whatever those three tell you. If we take that ship, I want to be able to get underway if anyone on shore tries to help.” To himself he silently added, and get the hell away from Sarth if the attack fails.
“Ready?” he asked, and the men nodded. “Once we start moving, don’t stop for anything unless I tell you or we’re attacked.” He opened the door to Vinci’s store, and said, “Let’s go.”
The men followed Roo into the predawn gloom, down the street where Vinci’s store sat, then around a corner that put them on the main street through the town, part of the King’s Highway. They followed it, moving quickly without running, and when the road turned north again, they followed a smaller street that led down to the southern end of the docks. To Roo’s mind, Sarth looked like nothing so much as a right hand slapped down on an otherwise northwest-running shoreline. The thumb was where the road turned west for a while, and the bulk of the town rested between, until the road turned north up the index finger. The docks started at the crook of the thumb and followed the highway for a distance, with several blocks of houses between the highway and the bay.
As they reached the docks, Roo found Vinci had instructed other men to leave the warehouse unbolted. It was the last one on the lower dock, the westernmost part of the thumb in Roo’s imagination, and inside were two boats. Each boat was lifted by six men and quickly moved down a boat ramp, set in the water, and pushed off with eight men climbing into the first, and Roo and the other eight climbing into the second. They almost held their breath trying to be silent, but everything around them remained quiet.
Two men in each boat put oars into the water and rowed lightly, moving across the water to the ship, a dark silhouette against the grey of sky and water. As they neared, Roo felt a cold chill in his stomach. Softly he said, “Damn.”
“What?” asked a man nearby.
“It’s a Quegan trader.”
“So?” asked a second man.
“Nothing,” said Roo. “I’m in enough trouble with Queg that a little more won’t make me any more dead if they catch me.”
A low cackle from a third man answered the remark, then the man said, “No, but it might make your dying a little nastier.”
“Thanks,” said Roo. “That makes me feel so much better.”
The first boat reached the stern of the ship, a two-masted trading vessel. A man in the bow of the first boat leaped to a rear anchor line and nimbly climbed to the gunwale. He peeked over, turned, and nodded down to those in the boats below.
Silently, men started climbing aboard.
Up on deck, the sailor assigned the night watch sat against the rail sleeping. Roo motioned, and one of the men struck the sleeping sentry hard on the head with the hilt of a sword. The man slumped over, unconscious.
Roo motioned for the men to move fore and aft, and down into the ship they went. Things were quiet, then suddenly a shout from the bow of the ship sounded, answered quickly by the sound of blows. Other voices were raised, then it was quiet again. A minute later a group of downcast-looking sailors emerged from the fore hatch, followed a moment later by men coming up the aft. There were only twenty-two men aboard, including the Captain and mate. All had been asleep and had been easily roused from their berths to find themselves facing armed men.
Roo breathed a sigh of relief. The ship was his.
Roo looked at one of the men, who didn’t look like a sailor. “Where did you find him?” he asked one of the smugglers.
The smuggler said, “In a little cabin next to the Captain’s.”
Roo came to stand before the man and said, “There’s something familiar about you. Who are you?”
The man remained silent. Roo said, “Light a lantern.”
One of the smugglers did so and brought it over. Roo held it close. “I know you! You’re one of Vasarius’s men. Your name is Velari.”
The man politely said, “Mr. Avery.”
Roo laughed. “Don’t tell me this is one of Lord Vasarius’s ships?”
“It is,” said the high-placed servant. He had been the first Quegan to meet Roo on his first visit to that island.
“Isn’t that something,” said Roo. “Well, I’m sure Vasarius is holding me personally responsible for every injury done him since I last saw him, so this additional offense won’t surprise him.”
Velari said, “He’ll eventually find out, Avery.”
“You can tell him,” said Roo.