“Slide over, pal. Let me give you a hand,” Hadrian told the boatman as he took up a seat beside him. “Arista, take the tiller.”
The princess replaced Hadrian, grabbing hold of the wooden handle. She had no idea what to do with it and opted for keeping it centered. Hadrian rolled up his sleeves and, bracing his feet against the toggles, took one of the oars. Royce slipped off his cloak and boots and dropped them onto the floor of the boat.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Etcher told him. “We’ve still got another bridge to clear.”
“Just make sure you get them past the South Bridge and we’ll be fine,” Royce said. “Now, gentlemen, if you could put a little distance between us.”
“On three,” Wally announced, and they began stroking together, pulling hard and fast, so that the bow noticeably rose and a wake began to froth. Caught by surprise, Etcher stumbled backward and nearly fell.
“What the blazes are—” Etcher started when Royce leapt over the gunwale and disappeared. “Damn fool. What does he expect us to do, wait for him?”
“Don’t worry about Royce,” Hadrian replied as he and Wally stroked in unison. To Arista, the wherry did seem to drop farther back but perhaps that was only wishful thinking.
“South Bridge,” Etcher whispered.
As they approached, Arista saw another fire blazing. This time it was a boat dock burning like well-aged kindling. The old South Bridge, which marked the city’s boundary, was not nearly as high as the Langdon, and Arista could easily see the guards.
“They aren’t going for it this time,” Hadrian said. “They’re staying at their posts.”
“Quiet. We might slip by,” Etcher whispered.
With oars held high, they all sat as still as statues. Arista found herself in command of the skiff as it floated along in the current. She quickly learned how the rudder affected the boat. The results felt backward to her. Pulling right made the bow swing left. Terrified of making a mistake, she concentrated on keeping the boat centered and straight. Up ahead, something odd was being lowered from the bridge. It looked like cobwebs or tree branches dangling. She was going to steer around it when she realized it stretched the entire span.
“They draped a net!” Etcher said a little too loudly.
Wally and Hadrian back paddled, but the river’s current was the victor and the skiff flowed helplessly into the fishnet. The boat rotated, pinning itself sideways. Water frothed along the length, threatening to tip them.
“Shore your boat and don’t move from it!” A shout echoed down from above.
A lantern lowered from the bridge revealed their struggles to free themselves from the mesh. Etcher, Wally, and Hadrian slashed at the netting with knives, but before they could clear it, two imperial soldiers descended and took up position on the bank. Each was armed with a crossbow.
“Stop now or we’ll kill you where you stand,” the nearest soldier ordered with a harsh, anxious voice. Hadrian nodded and the three dropped their knives.
Arista could not take her eyes off the crossbows. She knew those weapons. She had seen Essendon soldiers practicing with them in the yard. They pierced old helms placed on dummies, leaving huge holes through the heavy metal. These were close enough for her to see the sharp iron heads of the bolts—the power to pierce armor held in check by a small trigger and pointed directly at them.
Wally and Hadrian maneuvered the boat to the bank and one by one they exited, Hadrian offering Arista his hand as she climbed out. They stood side by side, Arista and Hadrian in front, Wally and Etcher behind.
“Remove your weapons,” one of the soldiers ordered, motioning toward Hadrian. Hadrian paused, his eyes shifting between the two bowmen, before slipping off his swords. One of the soldiers approached, while the other stayed back, maintaining a clear line of sight.
“What are your names?” the foremost soldier asked.
No one answered.
The lead guard took another step forward and intently studied Arista. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Look what we have here, Jus. We done caught ourselves a fine fish, we have.”
“Who is it?” Jus asked.
“This here is that Princess of Melengar, the one they say is a witch.”
“How do you know?”
“I recognize her. I was in Medford the year she was on trial for killing her father.”
“What’s she doing here, ya think?”
“Don’t know … What are you doing here?”
She said nothing, her eyes locked on the massive bolt heads. Made of heavy iron, the points looked sharp. Knight killers, Sir Ecton called them.
What will they do to me?
“The captain will find out,” the soldier said. “I recognize these two as well.” He motioned to Wally and Etcher. “I seen them around the city afore.”
“Course you have.” Wally spoke up. “I’ve piloted this river for years. We weren’t doing nothin’ wrong.”
“If you’ve been on this river afore, then you knows we don’t allow transports at night.”
Wally did not say anything.