“Arise you ugly lumps, you stains upon the deck boards!”

The call came before dawn, when the first feeble rays of day had just begun to dye the horizon a slightly paler shade of black. Walking through their midst, Briggs proceeded to kick each of the sleepers in turn, admonishing and insulting them as he went.

“Up you bastards, up! We sail throughout the night and you try and sleep into the day? Up, up damn you, make yourselves useful for once.”

Sitting and rubbing his weary eyes, Az peered at his new surroundings. No longer out on the open water, the ship had entered a sheltered bay where a large bank of reeds came out several feet from the shore. Around them, the lily pads were so thick as to be almost touching. They made a strange slippery sound as they glided under the hull of the boat, which was now moving almost entirely by the force of its own momentum.

Looking over at Rhea, Az could see that though laying motionless, her eyes were open – staring unseeingly at the dark shoreline. “You alright over there?” he asked, “You look terrible. Did you sleep?”

Rhea spoke without moving. “Maybe for a little while. I can’t remember. If I did, I dreamed of being awake.”

Az frowned. Standing, he made his way to the back of the overhang where the provisions were stored. Returning with water and bread, he offered some to Rhea. For a while the two sat eating and drinking in silence, watching the deckhands as they staggered about lowering the sails and affixing a heavy rope to the bow.

In the growing daylight Az could see them clearly for the first time. He was shocked to find that one was an old man, bent and gnarled, while the other was little more than a boy, deeply tanned and hardly able to keep his sunken eyes from falling shut. Slowly chewing his bread, he pondered the strangeness of the pair, and the contrast between them and the sturdy sailors who had confronted Venali two nights before.

“Haven’t lifted a finger and already having breakfast,” said Briggs, coming up to the pair. “Despicable laggards, up to the front with the others. Come on now, if you can’t look sharp, at least try to look a little less dull.”

Az did not look up, choosing to watch Rhea instead in the hopes that she might betray some of what was bothering her. She had not wanted to board the ship, that much she had made clear. But since her time alone in the market, Az could not help but feel that she had receded into herself more than ever before. As Briggs spoke, Rhea’s eyes flicked up towards him, fixing Briggs with a look that seemed to portend nothing short of murder. So cold and hateful was that look, that Az himself felt a slight shudder pass over him, thinking of the razers edge on which he now found himself.

“Of course,” he said. “We’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later, Az and Rhea joined Elijah, Ammon and the others at the bow of the ship. They were no longer moving; the boat having run aground on the thick bed of water lilies no more than a foot or so from the shore. The sun, though not yet up, had begun to glow over the eastern horizon. And with the light had come fresh anxiety on the faces of Venali and Briggs, who were quickly giving instructions to climb overboard and drag the ship into the reeds so that they might hide throughout the day. Az had wanted to take Rhea aside and try and get at what was bothering her. But her body language had made it abundantly clear that now was not the time. And so, the two had gotten up in silence, and were now removing their shoes and footwraps like the rest, and preparing to jump into the shallow water below.

One at a time, from the center of the ship where the hull was lowest, Az, Rhea, Elijah and Ammon each hung down from the deck and dropped down to the waist deep water and sandy bottom. Making their way back to the bow, they took hold of the rope and, picking the path by which they thought they might find the least resistance, began pulling the boat into the reeds. The men had all stripped down to their undergarments, and their muscles bulged in the dim light as they hauled the ship slowly onwards. Rhea however, unwilling to so much as gird her robes and risk exposing her scars, was soaked from the waste down, the cloth sticking to her and inhibiting her movement. Seeing this and knowing the cause, Az felt for the poor girl, so proud and strong and yet so injured and ashamed.

Soon the boat ground to a halt, jammed between two close reeds. Unable to drag it any further, Ammon called up to the deck and Briggs, disappearing briefly, returned to assure them that they were deep enough inside as to be invisible from the open water. Turning to climb back onboard, Az felt Rhea catch his arm.

“I’m going to spend the day on shore,” she said. “I don’t want to spend a minute more than is necessary on that stinking ship.”

“I’ll join you.”

“Fine. But for the love of God, go and get your clothes first.”

A half hour later Az and Rhea pushed through the last of the reeds and began to climb the low muddy overhang of the shoreline. Here the water had worn away the earth lower down, while above them a thick matt of roots held the topsoil in place. Beneath the overhang bullfrogs could be heard bellowing out to one another, and Az looked about at the murky water fearful of all he could not see. Boosting Rhea up onto the bank, he tossed his clothes, sword and a small pack up to her, then reached up his hand to hers and she helped to haul him up onto the shore.

Pushing a little deeper, they paused by the foot of an ancient oak, its massive trunk splitting into four only a few feet up. Not waiting for Az to speak, Rhea climbed nimbly up to the nearly flat area where the four trunks met. Following awkwardly behind her, his clothes draped over his shoulders, Az reached the flat to find Rhea laying back, warming herself in the morning sun, and attempting to dry her robes without taking them off. Suddenly self-conscious at his own near nakedness, Az hastily pulled on his pants and shirt, before settling in across from her. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a few fist-sized peanuts he had bought at the bazaar and brought along from the ship. He tossed one to Rhea and they both sat eating listening to the sounds of the forest, the swamp and to the song birds, singing away in the canopy.

“I’m going to kill Venali,” said Rhea coolly, when she had finished her food.

Az raised his eyebrows. “I see. And have you ever killed a man before?”

There was a pause, Rhea giving him a hard look. “No.”

“Then do not be in such a rush to sully your hands. To kill is not such an easy thing. It is not for everyone. It stays with you.”

“He deserves it.”

“Perhaps. Many people do. Myself maybe more than most. But that does not mean you need to take that sin onto your conscience.”

“It would be no sin. It would be a release to see him die.” She paused. “If you want to play the father, and shelter poor little Rhea, then you can do it. But either way, it must be done.”

As she said these words her voice grew resentful and it occurred to Az that he had not yet gotten to the bottom of what had been bothering her. Unsure what to do, he opted for a stab in the dark. “Listen, I know that as the only woman on the ship, it must-”

“I’m not,” spat Rhea. “He has a woman chained down in the galley, living in her own filth. I have seen her with my own eyes. For all I know there many be as many as six… one for each oar.”

Az’s open mouth twisted into a frown. “When did you see her?”

“What difference does it make?” Anger was building in Rhea’s voice. “Where did you think that smell was coming from? Why did you think the door to the galley was sealed with wax? What kind of ship did you think we were on? Weapons, slaves and mercenaries, that is what the Katorga carries. But it was all nothing to you. You were happy to cast a blind eye, so long as it took you where you wanted to go.”

Az started to speak, but Rhea cut him off again.

“If you speak for the wolf, speak against him as well. If you have anything else to say in Venali’s defense then save it. You’ve done more than enough of that already.”

“No, you’re right. I understand now. You have my word, this will be Venali’s last voyage. But I want you to promise me something as well. We have only sailed for one night, and can hardly have reached Lonely Lake by now. I know it is hard to be patient, but we must avoid cutting the branch on which we stand. We cannot sail the ship alone. I want you to promise me that you will wait until we reach our destination. I will speak with Venali, make him let the prisoners out into the open air. Make sure they are washed and fed. You have my word on that. But I want you to promise that you will be patient. And that you will wait until we have reached Quarryhold to seek your justice. Can you do that for me?”

Staring back at him, her eyes burning with contempt, Rhea said nothing. Instead, she got to her feet, climbed silently from the tree, and disappeared into the forest beyond.

It was not until evening that Rhea returned to the oak. Left alone in the woods with nothing but his thoughts, Az had spent the day intermittently snacking, napping, and worrying about her. It had taken all he had to fight the impulse to go out looking for her. But he had reminded himself that Rhea was a creature of the woods, and was far less likely to get lost than he was. Coming to the base of the tree she whistled up to him. He climbed slowly down, and followed her back to the shore.

Wading through the water and rejoining the crew, they were greeted with a barrage of insults and admonishments from Briggs, who set them immediately to work relaunching the ship. It was harder getting out than it had been coming in, the ship having been wedged even farther in by the waves that pushed against it throughout the day. By the time they were once more on open water, Az was tired, hungry and irritable. Glad to be able to supplement his rations with more of the dry goods he had purchased at Islandnest, he dug into his main pack and immediately came across the gift he had gotten for Rhea in the market. His heart sank. Looking over at her, eating alone with her back to the rest of the crew, Az screwed up his courage and went over.

“I, uh, got you something,” he said, coming up behind her.

Rhea jumped at the sound of his voice, quickly turning towards him and setting aside a cup of water into which she had been carefully pinching powder from a small pouch.

Az paused, looking down on her exhausted and guilt-ridden face. She looked so tired that she appeared to have aged a decade since they had first stepped foot on the ship. “What’s that?” he asked. “Is it to help you sleep?”

“Yeah, you could say that. You got something for me?”

From his pocket, Az produced a small copper telescope, its surface covered in ornate swirling etchings. He handed it to her.

“I thought that with this, you might not feel you need the visions to get a glimpse of what is to come.”

Rhea looked at the telescope in her hand, then back of to Az. For a moment, a tear showed in the corner of her eye and it seemed as though she might cry. But blinking back she only gave him a weak smile.

“Thanks,” she said, standing and putting the telescope to her eye. “It’s getting dark, but still, I think I see storm clouds on the horizon.”