coast, use our oil to buy passage on ships to take us far away. My husband knew better.”
She cast a hard glance at the two drifting boats now several hundred yards to their rear. The fire had evidently found the cargo of the second, for a bright blossom of flame could be seen in the heart of the pall. “He always thought he knew better,” she murmured.
“Idiot peasants,” Crab muttered from the tiller, his gaze fixed on the northern horizon as he scoured it for sign of their prey. “Should’ve sold your oil to the first merchant you found. The further you travel the more likely someone like me will take it from you.” He turned a baleful glare on Alum and Sehmon, who were working the oars. “Faster, you foreign filth! If they make the shore, we’ll have the whole Silver Thread down on us by nightfall, and they won’t be in a forgiving mood.”
“What was that?” Alum asked Vaelin.
“We need more speed.” Vaelin rose and nudged Sehmon’s heaving back with his boot. “Get some rest. I’ll take over.”
He and Alum hauled on the oars for over an hour, the speed of the boat increased by the sail Crab skillfully angled to make best use of the wind. “Hah!” the boatman exclaimed from the tiller, teeth bared in a predatory grin. “They’re making for Heron Cove.”
“And that’s good news?” Vaelin asked, grunting as he continued to work his oar.
“The current flows west here.” Crab jerked his head at the sail. “We have the wind to counter it, they don’t. You and you.” He flicked his hand at Nortah and Ellese. “Go forward. Kill them when they get close enough. All of them, mind.”
After Vaelin translated the order, the two archers duly took up position at the prow of the boat, nocking arrows and waiting for the outlaw craft to come into range. After perhaps another twenty minutes of rowing, Vaelin heard Ellese say, “Is that . . . a ship?”
The uncertainty in her voice made Vaelin pause in mid-stroke. Standing, he turned his gaze to the prow, ignoring Crab’s barked command to stick at it. He could see a very large shape resolving through the mist a few hundred yards away. It was indeed more a ship than a boat. Water swelled before a dark hull as it cut through the lake, a dozen oars on either side propelling it forward. Instead of one sail it had three, the foremost emblazoned in white with a symbol Vaelin had last seen when Ambassador Kohn presented his credentials: the seal of the Merchant King Lian Sha.
He could see a dense knot of men on the huge boat’s foredeck, clad in red and standing with bows raised and drawn. As he watched, the archers all loosed as one and a cloud of arrows rose, arcing high before plunging down onto the two outlaw craft. The lake surface turned white as the arrows fell, covering both boats in a thicket of shafts that surely left no outlaw alive.
“Heaven shits on me once more!” Crab cursed, hauling hard on the tiller whilst tugging on the rope that controlled the sail. The boat duly heaved to starboard, wallowing for a moment before settling. “Get back on your oar,” the boatman instructed Vaelin curtly. “If we can get to shore in time . . .” His voice faded and his eyes grew large as they alighted on something to the west. Vaelin turned to see three more boats emerging from the haze. They were smaller than the first but well crewed by oarsmen and all bearing the same symbol on their sails. It was obvious they were moving far too swiftly to allow any escape.
Crab’s hand slipped from the tiller and he exchanged a sour glance with Chien. “Black knot?”
She nodded, lips twitching in an expression somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “The rule is clear,” she said, her voice betraying only a slight note of apology.
“If I haven’t said it before,” the boatman began, “I’ve always found your company singularly unpleasant . . .”
Chien’s staff divided with a snick, and the blade flicked across his throat. Crab sank to his knees, gurgling as blood flowed freely from the gaping wound beneath his chin. He fell face-first to the deck and lay still after a few shuddering spasms.
“You they might spare,” Chien said, turning to Vaelin. She jerked her head at where Ahn-Jin crouched, clutching her terrified children. “Tell them these were our captives and