Have you got a better idea? We will be far outnumbered by Merglan’s forces and far out matched by his sorcerers.
What of the others? Tarron asked.
The others?
The elves and dwarfs who fought with you.
If the elves survived Merglan’s destruction of their capital city, they would surely flee as the dragons did. And if the dwarfs are still untouched by Merglan’s forces, they are weeks away in their rocky holds of Hardstone. We’ll never reach them in time. The enemy could be here any day, sooner if there were any dragons in that prison.
Where will you tell these people to go?
If they listen to my plan, I’ll send them up the coast to the north, far away from anywhere they’ve heard of. I would have them go as far north as they can and tell them to start anew. Anyone who chose to stay with me here must know the risks he or she will be taking.
And what exactly would those risks be?
That we’ll most likely be dead before the winter.
And why is that? Will you ride out and fight Merglan one-on-one again?
Maybe, Anders said. I have another idea; one that would require much more stealth.
Assassination? Tarron asked.
Anders knew Tarron could read his thoughts so there was no use denying it. Once these people are taken care of, I will ride out and take this fight to Merglan before he can cause any more harm to these lands.
You aren’t trained well enough to pull this off and escape alive.
I didn’t say I would escape him, I said I would kill him.
Tarron didn’t speak to Anders for the remainder of the hour-long break. Anders had made up his mind and knew that saving the others would require sacrifice. He couldn’t ask anyone else to make that sacrifice for him. With all the opposition and the scattering of forces, it was the only way he could envision an outcome in which Merglan would be dead.
***
Max pulled on the thick rope, stretching it tight and securing it to the side of the ship. Nodding to Karth, one of the surviving members of Britt’s original crew, he moved to walk off the deck and onto the next ship.
“Hey, Max!” he heard Britt call from above.
Max spun, searching for her.
He spotted her in the cargo netting affixed from the side of the ship to the top of the main mast. Britt pointed to the east end of the port. “There’s another gunner on the far end. She’ll be next. We need to ready these fighting ships first.”
He nodded and followed Karth off the dock. Once they neared the cobblestone street paralleling the port, he and the other crewman turned left, nearly bumping into a group of women walking by. Spinning out of the way and not realizing he had been walking with his head down, Max offered his apology, “Oh, sorry.”
“Excuse you,” a girl in a puffed-up dress said, glaring.
“Sorry, Miss,” Karth offered in his thick accent.
“Watch where you’re going, sea-rat,” a second older woman in a blue dress of similar style scolded.
Max grabbed Karth’s shirt sleeve and pulled him along. He was worried the warrior would backtalk the lady for being so rude.
“Are all citizens here like that?” he asked Max.
Max glanced over his shoulder, he thought he recognized one of the women in the group. “No. They are usually pleasant,” Max said. “I guess being under new management puts people in a sour mood,” he added, suggesting an excuse for their rude behavior.
As Max and Karth neared the end of the port, he saw Kirsten emerge from a side street. Max made awkward eye contact with her before hurrying to avoid her approach.
“Where are you two off to?” she asked joining them as they approached the dock where Britt had instructed them to go.
“Captain wants the gunner ships ready,” Karth said, pointing to the ship docked on the east end of the port.
“Let me help you,” Kirsten said.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Max said.
Kirsten frowned at him as Karth said, “Nonsense, we can always use an extra hand. If my memory serves me, this one was pretty helpful when we sailed back from Eastland.”
Kirsten puffed up her chest and said, “You got that right.”
As they turned onto the dock and walked up the ribbed boarding platform onto the ship’s deck, Max still felt awkward about how Kirsten had been eyeing him in the days before the recent battle. Ever since they’d helped revive her from her coma, she had seemed unusually interested in him. Max knew his younger brother Bo had eyes for her. As for himself, Max was just beginning to explore his relationship with Britt and didn’t want Britt thinking he had any special feelings for Anders’ cousin.
“I’ll start with the rigging,” Karth said. “Max, you and Kirsten go below deck and see what needs to be done to ready the cannons.”
Max opened his mouth to protest thinking he could suggest that he had a better knowledge of the ship’s rigging because it was a different style; however, he quickly abandoned the thought as he realized that the Rollo Island warrior knew far more about all styles of ships than he ever would. Avoiding Kirsten’s eager eyes, Max searched for the hatch to go down below. Finding it, he led Kirsten down under the ship’s deck.
Opening a gunner door hatch and looking out from the hull, Kirsten said, “Let’s get a few of these open so we can get some more light in here.”
Max didn’t respond but went about opening several of the cannon sidewall doors to allow the midday sun to brighten up the inner hull. Barrels of gun powder sat stacked in the space between cannons. Along with boxed crates of cannons, he noticed that they were already secured for travel. “Looks like all we need to do is tie these guns down,” he said, after noticing that the cannons weren’t chocked or tied off for the rocking movement of a ship on open water.
