"Mr. brute, where are you going?"
The frisky girl caught up with her fellow sufferer by making her way to the ship, but Ragne showed no panic, feeling the cold steel on the small of his back.
- Of the two of us, fate has not prepared you to poke something behind your back, can we switch?…
From the alley to the port, more and more homeless and angry young ladies ran, who, despite their decent age, moved their feet quite briskly. It was lucky that they were ordinary people and not aura lords, otherwise, the lives of the young fugitives would have been cut short before the pursuit began. They made a lot of noise, which attracted the girl's attention.
"Damn it… You've come up with something, haven't you? Tell me, how were you going to save yourself?
The blade of a small dagger bit into the skin, further widening the hole in the relatively new fur coat.
- If one is more modest than the other, then become a victim, then reveal a chance for salvation…
Without a trace of fear on his face, he turned to the stranger, who immediately changed the position of the weapon, putting the blade to her throat.
— We both need to be saved, so why be modest?"
The obvious and perfectly logical answer did not bring any haste to Ragne's actions.
"It's not terrible to die, but it's a shame to die at the hands of tramps… The same shame as obeying a girl who tried to frame me. Put the knife away…
The cold tone shook the stranger's confidence, a second of doubt, and the blade moved away from her neck.
"He will have time to kill the brute, now the main thing is to save himself…"
While the girl fought the urge to use the knife, Ragne untied one of the safety ropes of the mast, which the drunken sailors did not care about. He tied the barrel around all sides and then wrapped it around his waist and the waist of the uncomprehending fugitive.
"Hold on to the side.
Just a few words and Ragne jumped off the deck, not plopping into the water only thanks to the live cargo, which was not too happy with its role. And who would have danced with joy, having been smashed into the wooden board?
"That bastard! You want to kill me?!!"
A young man hanging from the stern was trying to free one of the six decorative anchors. As the second brother said, such trinkets were attached not to a chain, but to special shutters, which can be opened by pulling out two latches. Pushing his hand through the small opening, Ragne groped for one of them and successfully removed the lock, but when he reached the second, he called out to the unfortunate companion.
"Jump down quickly, and without further ado."
The noble ladies had already made their way to the deck, and as for the homeless, they did not dare to go up, because the brave sailors turned into inveterate thugs at any convenient, and not particularly, occasion.
"Master idiot, if we both die, remember, even in the next world, I will kill you.
She wondered what the mad brute was up to, but there was no time to think. Closing her eyes, she leaped over the side, and at the same moment Ragne lifted the second latch, and the anchor shot down, dragging two men and a wooden barrel with it.
The sounds of singing and dancing were loud enough to drown out the splash of water.
The companions in misfortune quickly went to the bottom, because Ragne did not let go of the anchor. He didn't let go until they were more than ten meters deep. The port was built for large ships, there was no question of shallow water, and this frightened the girl even more. At some point, the young man let go of the ballast, the couple was abruptly dragged to the surface, the upside-down barrel played the role of afloat.
Rowing with his feet, Ragne intuitively guided the barrel to the keel-the crest-like bottom of the ship, after a few seconds it rested against the base of the ship. The young man quickly surfaced after him, sticking his head inside the barrel of air, as did the fugitive, who took a sip of seawater because of her panic.
"Hit the bottom? How can the barrel's ascent be adjusted so precisely? Could he be the lord of the aura? ... it couldn't be, the homeless couldn't put such a creature to flight…"
Dismissing the stupid thoughts, the fugitive looked into the face of the stranger ... Suddenly her eyebrows quickly crept up, inside the dark barrel it was quite light, and the source of illumination was the chest of the young man. Just below the neck, soldered at the junction of the collarbones, was a dark blue crystal, from which veins of the same color radiated across the skin.
— What is it?"...
Ragne was in no position to answer questions, his wet fur coat dragging him down like a stone, forcing him to paddle frantically with his feet.
"None of your business.
Despite the weight, the young man did not part with the clothes, for which he almost had to face a shameful death at the hands of tramps.
— We were saved by a miracle, so why not be more friendly?" I'm Myrrh, and what should I call you?
The faint light from the dark blue crystal did not illuminate the barrel's cavity well, but it was enough to determine the young man's good looks.
"Don't talk too much, there may not be enough air."
The girl's face darkened, and her lips pursed into a thin line.
"As soon as I get out, I'll cut off the bastard's tongue…"