"The docks are not a reassuring place during the hours of darkness." Elysia thought. Light filtered outside from many low-key taverns, and the alleys were lit by numerous red streetlamps. Patrols of armed guards walked between the warehouses, but they were careful not to enter the areas where the sailors amused themselves. They were more interested in protecting their bosses' goods than in preventing crime. Even so, Frey felt easier knowing that there were armed men within earshot of her in case things turned horribly ugly.
She stopped at the edge of the pier and searched the night with her eyes. The river was wide at that point, perhaps a mile from one shore to the other, where it was navigable for ocean-going ships, although not many went that far. Most of the merchants preferred to leave their cargo in Seaheim, the capital of the Duchy of Sealand, and then send it up the river by barge.
From where she stood, she could see the position lights of the barges and the small skiffs that at all hours transported people from one bank of the river to the other. She supposed that there would be far more boats on the water than lights, since not all ships and their passengers wanted it to be known what kind of business they were up to.
Black Boat would be among the latter, except that instead of carrying a cargo of illegal goods, it would carry some terrible ratfolk weapon. Elysia shuddered at the thought of what she could be. She had had enough with the Cauldron of a Thousand Plagues and the weapons of the Marchin Clan.
The wind she blew was cold, and she wrapped her old threadbare cloak more tightly around her. "What am I doing here?" Elysia wondered. "I should be in my bedroom at The Stinky Pig." Or maybe not; maybe what she was doing here was avoiding Elissa.
She wondered where his relationship with her would go, but he hadn't the faintest idea about her. It was something she'd been drawn into, not a commitment she'd never imagined she could have a future with. He didn't really love Elissa. Recently, even, she had said that they were her friends, and she thought that for her, too, it was something temporary, something that had just happened. Perhaps the girl would be better off with the peasant boy. She shrugged, continuing to gaze into the darkness, listening to the sound of the waves lapping gently against the wooden pier pillars.
♦ ♦ ♦
"Our mousey friends have chosen a good night." Frey muttered as he took a sip from a bottle of rum.
Elysia looked up at the sky and understood what the dark hero meant. He was cloudy, the moon was not in the sky.
"Smuggler's Moon." Elysia said.
"What?"
"Sailors often call this a 'smuggler's moon,' and now I see why. It's dark, and border agents would have a hard time seeing you on a night like that."
"Also to the river patrols." Frey agreed. "Though humans can't see anything worth shit at night anyway."
"I guess." Elysia replied, that although she wanted to contradict the dark hero, she knew that in that case she was absolutely right.
"Yes, and be glad you're not human, Elysia; even though your eyes are not as good as mine, they are still good eyes to see in the dark."
"Yeah... I guess you're right." Elysia said with a bit of bitterness on her palate, not being human has caused her many problems in the past, but she had her advantages.
"In any case, you're lucky I'm here."
"Why?"
"Because there is the Black Boat! Look!"
Elysia followed the direction Frey's finger was pointing and saw nothing.
"You've had too much rum." she said she.
"Humans have not yet distilled the drink that can make me drunk." Frey replied.
"Just keep you from walking…" Elysia mumbled.
"At least I'm not blind."
"Just drunkenly blind."
"I am telling you that there is a boat there."
Elysia narrowed her eyes into the darkness and began to think that maybe Frey was right. Out there was something bulky, a shadowy presence that moved erratically through the deep water.
"I think you're right," Elysia acknowledged. "I present to you my sincere apologies."
"Save your breath," the dark hero replied. "We have to make a healthy kill."
♦ ♦ ♦
"Faster!" Elysia said, standing at the bow of the skiff and not taking her eyes from her as she kept fixed on the dark figure before her.
"I'm going as fast as I can, miss." replied the boatman, who propelled the boat with the pole, and with all the energy of an arthritic porcupine. He was a stocky man, with slow, heavy movements.
"A man with only one arm could do it faster." declared Frey. "In fact, I bet if he cut off your arm, you'd apply more speed yourself."
Suddenly, the boatman drew energy from somewhere and increased speed.
Elysia didn't know if she would be happy or not, because it made her nervous to approach the ratfolk ship with that small boat. She wished the night guards had been called, but Frey, in the frenzy of battle, had insisted that there was no time to lose. He assured Elysia that the commotion they would create shortly would attract river patrols, and the catgirl knew it would.
As they got closer she saw that it was indeed a boat, a huge grain barge all painted black, speeding down the river. She wondered why the ratfolka would have done this. It was true that black made the boat inconspicuous at night, but in daylight she would draw as much attention as a hearse in a wedding caravan.
Perhaps she had come down the river in her normal color, and had been painted that very night. Maybe they had a secret base somewhere, a night's sail upriver. The base must be quite far away, for a barge could travel a great distance if it sailed with the current, as this one did.
Elysia dismissed all such speculations as useless. She knew that she was only doing them to occupy her mind and distract herself from the fear that the impending confrontation inspired in her.
"What are they doing on that barge?" she wondered herself. If they weren't ratfolks, then they were the worst sailors she had ever seen.
At that moment, the barge seemed to be drifting in a wide semicircle. She could hear a soft muffled drumbeat and the creak and splash of oars. It gave the impression that they had some difficulty steering the boat.
"Are they." Frey commented. Human sailors can't be that bad at steering a boat."
Elysia could then hear the ratfolk screeching in the distance, and she knew the dark hero was right. Unfortunately, the boatman had also heard them.
"Did you say ratfolks?" she asked, superstition and fear etched on her fat, sweat-glossy face.
"Nope." Elysia replied.
"Yes." Frey replied.
"I won't even go near that boat if there are monsters enemies of humanity on board!" declared the boatman.
"My friend was only kidding," Elysia assured him.
"No, he wasn't kidding" Frey contradicted her.
The man stopped propelling the boat, and Frey glared at him; it seemed as if an evil red flash emanated from Frey's eyes.
"I hate boats almost as much as I hate trees." he assured him. "And I hate trees almost as much as I hate cowards. And what I particularly hate are cowardly people who keep me inside the boats made of trees for longer than necessary when there are monsters to kill and fights to fight."
The ferryman had gone very pale and very still, and Elysia was almost sure she could hear his teeth chattering. Frey continued to rant.
"You're going to keep pushing this boat until we reach the ratmen's barge, or I'll rip your leg off with my bare hands, beat you to death with it like a shoddy club, then when you're dead I'll piss and shit. over his corpse is to empty my guts; Finally, I will find out where you live and do the same thing to your wife while your children watch me do it. Have I made myself clear or do I need a practical demonstration?"
Elysia had to admit that the enormous menacing content that the dark hero managed to convey in her voice was impressive; Worst of all, Elysia knew that Frey would be able to do all the things she had said, and even more. No doubt the ferryman thought the same thing.
"With all clarity." she responded, propelling the boat with energy.
Approaching the great barge, Elysia saw another problem. The boat was low and the barge had a very high hull. On flat ground, the distance could have been bridged simply by climbing; but since the two ships moved forward and rocked in the water, the matter was entirely different. She mentioned it to Frey.
"Don't worry." Said the dark hero. "I have a plan."
"Now I'm worried." Elysia murmured.
"What did you say, cat girl?" The dark hero seemed on the brink of frenzied rage.
"Any." Elysia replied.
"Just grab that flashlight and be ready to move when I tell you to."