Tir Alainn - The House Of Gaian - Tir Alainn - The House of Gaian Part 36
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Tir Alainn - The House of Gaian Part 36

Barons. Bah. Inquisitor puppets. Puppets or not, it wasn't going to be easy to get Sweet Selkie out of the harbor, and he couldn't afford to let her be boarded. Not with the living cargo he was carrying.

"You shouldn't have stayed," Craig said again. "She's the last ship, Mihail.

The last one.""I know it." He just couldn't think about it. His brothers gone. His father gone. Had his wife and daughter gotten to Willowsbrook safely, or were they gone, too? How long would it be before he knew? Would he ever know?

Couldn't think of it. Couldn't think that way. He needed to think of the sea,

of the strong tide drawing Sweet Selkie away from the dock, giving her room to run, to flee fast enough to get past the Inquisitors' ships and out to the open sea. He could outrun them in the open. Had to outrun them.

First, he and Craig had to get to the ship.

"You-"

"You stayed," Mihail snapped.

Craig said nothing. What could he say? He'd stayed in Durham, pretending

he didn't see the danger coming closer and closer as he sold off what he could, drained the assets to get as much gold and silver to family members as he could, quietly burned the business records that would have told the enemy where to look for other branches of the family. In the end, he'd escaped by setting the warehouse on fire just ahead of the guards breaking down the door to bring him in for questioning.

That commotion at the other end of the docks sounded like it was heating up.

Mihail straightened up enough to peer over the top of the crates. Warriors forming a circle around someone. A buzz of angry voices-a low sound slowing gaining in volume as more sailors and dock workers moved closer to whatever was happening.

Mihail crouched again, shifting the heavy leather satchel slung over one shoulder-a twin to the one on Craig's shoulder. How had the man managed to walk to Seahaven carrying both satchels? "I never realized ledgers were so heavy," he muttered.

For a moment, a smile eased Craig's grim expression. "There's only one ledger in that bag. One that's any use to the family anyway. The other three are hollowed out and filled with the last of the gold and silver I had in the family coffers at the warehouse. That's why it's so heavy."

Mihail rested his forehead against the crates. "Mother's tits. Did you think to bring a clean shirt and another pair of socks?"

"They're in this bag. Isn't my fault you grabbed the heavier one."Mihail just shook his head, then turned a little to study the dock where Sweet Selkie was moored. The docking ropes were untied. Two of his men stood at the bow, playing out rope that had been slipped through a dock ring, letting the ship ease back with the tide. His orders to his first mate had been clear.

They sailed with the tide, with or without him. The gangplank had been withdrawn. Now only a board wide enough for a nimble man's feet was being balanced by another member of his crew so that it wouldn't scrape on the dock and draw someone's attention.

He noticed the way the men kept glancing around, searching for some sign of him while trying not to look like they were searching for someone. And he noticed the sea hawk perched on the end of the dock, watching his ship.

Another one glided low over the water and looked at the stern, as if trying to read the ship's name under the mud he'd smeared over it to hide it.

But hawks couldn't read.

Unless they weren't hawks.

A shiver went through him. Hope. Fear. He wasn't sure.

"The tide's going out," he said. "We have to go now while we can."

"The guards will spot us."

"No choice. Come on."

They stood up in time to see a merchant captain break free of the circle of warriors and run for his ship.

"I'm an honest merchant!"

Ubel stared at the sweating, shaking man. "If that is true, you'll have no objection to my warriors searching your ship to confirm that."

"I-I carry nothing that would interest the Inquisitors."

"That is for me to decide. Search the ship." Ubel nodded to two archers as

several warriors turned toward the ship's gangplank. From a special pouch, the archers carefully withdrew a thick shaft of wood with the glass ball secured to the end. They fitted the shafts into their bowstrings and looked at him, waiting for the signal.

"No!" The merchant captain broke through the warriors and ran for his ship, his crew shouting now, panicked as other archers nocked arrows in their bows and took aim.

Ubel waited until the captain had reached the gangplank, gave the man that

moment to think he'd escaped. "Now."

Arrows flew, finding their mark in the captain's back. He teetered on the gangplank, his hands reaching for the hands his crew held out to him. More arrows flew, and the men who had tried to help were felled. The captain

tumbled off the gangplank and into the water.

"Now," Ubel said again.

The archers with the glass-balled arrows took aim. As the glass balls hit the

mast and deck, they exploded, spraying a liquid that burst into flames, burning men, burning wood.

"The ship's on fire!" someone screamed.

Two more glass-balled arrows flew, and more liquid fire washed across the deck, caught the sails.

People rushed on deck now-women, children, old men, young men. Some jumped into the water. Men, mostly. The women were too burdened with long skirts and arms full of children. They knew they had no chance in the water, so they ran down the gangplank to the dock, as terrified and mindless as rats, uncomprehending that there was nowhere to go, no way to escape.

And his archers exterminated them as efficiently as they would any other

vermin.

A howl of rage suddenly filled the waterfront. Ubel spun around as sailors, armed with boot knives or clubs, and dock workers, with sharp hooks, threw themselves at the warriors, turning an extermination into an ugly fight.

Suddenly surrounded by screaming, fighting men, Ubel pushed his way to a clear space on the dock, falling to his hands and knees as he tripped over a dying woman crawling away from the other bodies.

He'd miscalculated. He should have used the Inquisitor's Gift of persuasion to quiet that merchant captain, should have handled the extermination more carefully. He should have realized that the sailors had helped sneak people onto the ships, that the dock workers had looked the other way when supplies in the warehouses had gone missing. Should have realized that some of them might have family or friends hidden on the ship.

As he got to his feet, he noticed two men walking swiftly toward the last dock. The ship he knew belonged to a witch-loving merchant family was already quietly slipping back with the tide.

"Stop those men! "

The warriors who had gone ahead of him and had turned back to join their comrades couldn't have heard him. But they must have seen his urgent hand gestures and, looking in the direction he was pointing, spotted the easier prey.

"Fire the ships!"

The Wolfram captains riding anchor in the harbor couldn't hear him either.

No matter. They already had their orders. They knew what to do. Even if that witch-loving bastard captain managed to reach his ship, he wasn't going to escape.

The tone of the fight behind him changed. The sailors were no longer fighting the warriors, exactly. Now they were fighting to reach the ships, the smaller fishing boats, anything that would get them away from the docks.

As if they actually believed they could get out of the harbor.

"You there!" someone shouted.

Glancing back, Mihail saw the warriors moving toward them. "Run," he said, grabbing Craig's arm.

No need to say it twice, not when the two sea hawks perched on the dock

near his ship suddenly screamed and took flight.

They ran for the end of the dock. The sailor dropped the wooden plank. It

scraped along the dock as Sweet Selkie began following the tide to open water.Just one chance. Two other men stood by on board, ready to throw ropes that would keep him and Craig from tumbling into the sea.

"Go!" Mihail said, pushing Craig toward the plank as his men threw the

ropes. Craig grabbed one and hurried up the bucking, bowing plank as fast as he could.

As soon as his men grabbed Craig's arms to pull him on board, Mihail

rushed up the plank. He was knocked aside by Craig before both feet