The Scarlet Assassin

Chapter Twelve

We walked all the way to the meetup point where a coach was supposed to pick us up. It came exactly at 12:30.

The black carriage, pulled by an ashen gray mare, rolled over the uneven stone and broke away a path in the snow. The mare trotted slowly toward us, its hooves striking the ground. The sound echoed through the streets and up the road, ending where the path curved. Stopping under the dim lamppost where we stood, in a remote part of town -nobody with any wits traveled through here at this time- the driver turned his head toward us.

"For your discreteness, as agreed," I said, handing him a bag full of coins. He carefully took it from my gloved hands and looked around before slipping it into his coat. His head turned back to its neutral spot forward. I turned the handle to the door and swung it open, stepping inside. Sorin followed and sat in the seat across from me, slinging his few bags next to him.

Eventually, a whip cracked and the carriage lurched forward, going yet again at a steady pace down the streets of Ravaryn.

As we neared enemy territory, I unconsciously grew more rigid. Every time we stopped, waiting for foot traffic to clear, I'd move the velvet curtains with a single finger to allow myself a glance out. Women and men alike -businessmen, travelers, merchants, traders, fishermen- lined the streets. Laughter and chatter echoed down the roads, blocking out my beating heart.

If we were found out, if I was found, the things that would be done to all of us would be unspeakable, indescribable. I could pray for a quick death and hope the God's backs aren't turned. No one looked twice at us though. No wealthy merchant or businessman bothered to check a delivery coach, and the thieves that walked among them didn't even look up as we passed. Besides, the only thing to steal was paper and used ink. I clenched the drape before exhaling and leaning back.

We were out of Ravaryn within the quarter hour.

About an hour out of Ravaryn, as discussed, I knocked twice on the coach's iron interior, and the coach slowed to a stop. The driver was yet again silent as Sorin and I piled out and took off from the road to the forest. For another hour, we trekked a few miles North East to a small harbor.

And in the bay, connected to an old, rickety dock, was a ship. Its sails were tucked up to the three grand masts and candles illuminated the deck along with the few windows. Aboard, I heard commands being shouted and chatter spreading.

Sorin gave me a dubious glance but sighed and readjusted his grip on his bags before following me toward the dock. The wood creaked under my weight. I didn't give myself a chance to think about the possibility of the structure giving out underneath me as I walked down its length then up the gangway. We got one step onto the ship before a cacophony of metal sliding out of multiple sheaths erupted.

And I was staring down twenty swords.

Sorin cussed and reached for a knife. I stood there calmly, lamely, as I was hounded with questions of who I was and what I was doing aboard their ship.

"Well, well, well." The voice soared over the rest. Everyone else shut up and a path in the crowd parted. Buckles banging against boots emerged as a woman cloaked in a deep, crimson red pirate's coat and matching hat made her way through the crowd. Her brown hair, taken up in a red bandana, swayed in the wind. "If it isn't the Scarlet Assassin," she chuckled, "I almost didn't expect you to show."

I smiled. "I could say the same for you, Devolan. It's been a while."

A smirk, wicked and cool, formed slowly on the pirate's face. "'Aye. Forgive my crew's rudeness." She only had to lift a hand and the pirates sheathed their weapons. "We aren't used to foreigners."