[Ridge]
I can't sleep. The swaying of the boat has me tossing and turning, but I don't feel overly tired, just a little sick. A quiet sigh leaves my dry lips. I sit up in the darkness and grab my bag from next to my hammock.
I put it on and head for the door of the tiny cabin. Men and women all dressed in dark clothing are overflowing from the limited hammock space and littering the floor. I step carefully over them, wincing as my weight shifts to my injured ankle. If I try to use the crutch I'll definitely end up bringing it down in someone's hand or something on accident, that or it'll just wake everyone up.
I make it to the other side without waking anyone up. Are all the GW's heavy sleepers? I climb a couple of steps and open the door to the deck. It's a small boat, but still much bigger than the canoes I'm used to. The entirety of the Grey Wanderers that came with us fit on two of these things, so calling them small isn't accurate, but compared to the ocean ships I've studied, it fits.
I walk silently to the gate and sit down. My legs dangle over the edge, a good distance above the water. I set my bag down beside me and pull out the Viscount's folder of documents for our trip. I've gone over it all a couple of times, but I feel like it's better to have it completely memorized.
That way I can burn the original documents if needed. They detail every step of our journey to recruit people for the rebellion, and although Kedcoe was characteristically vague, it still includes important information. The last thing we need is to run into Nycia troops and let our meeting location and list of potential joining organizations fall into their possession.
I hold the papers up under the lantern hanging over the side of the boat, leaning against the barrels behind me. With how loaded down we are with supplies, I'm honestly surprised at how fast we're moving.
It's only been half a day and we're already almost to Marquess Nissmore's territory. Rumor has it that the current Marquess came into power just last year, after his father succumbed to his illness. Yet he's already become influential enough that the Viscount has personally included his name in our plans.
I won't lie, I'm curious. A subtle creak spikes my attention. The wind howls past, making the hair on my arms stand up, and bumps form on my bare skin. I shouldn't have come out in only a tank top. Maybe there's something in my ba-
Creeeak.
I can check later.
Shrugging off the cold I slowly shove the papers back into my open bag and shove it between the two barrels separating me from the main deck. I pull my legs back over the edge and crouch down, piling my weight onto my good foot.
Then it hits me. Where is everyone? There should be people on watch, right? I mean I never explicitly heard Sileena say anything, but I thought that kind of caution was a given. We have a fragile operation going on here, and enemy forces are spread who-knows-where throughout these woods. Surely we didn't leave the deck completely unmanned?
My sword is downstairs in the cabin. I'm a Knight though, I don't rely on my weapon. My whole body is a weapon.
I peek around the barrels and just below one of the lanterns is the faint outline of a nimble body moving along the deck, staying low to the ground. If these boats weren't so old, they would probably be moving completely silently right now.
There shouldn't be a reason for a GW mercenary to move like that on their own boat, but that doesn't eliminate the possibility. I suppose it really could just be someone who got up with something to take care of in the middle of the night.
Then my thoughts go to Martina, and that night in Kadeeth's study. Better safe than sorry.
I grab my bag in one hand and take a deep breath. Cool river bed air fills my lungs. As I release it my breath makes a small cloud in front of me, and I step swiftly through it towards the figure advancing to the shut cabin door.