He fidgets in the saddle, they’re a couple blocks away from the pandemonium at the Tower, but he’s starting to get in the groove of riding. The horse is a bit testy though, it follows Jasper well enough, but Chris doesn’t like its tone. It keeps side eyeing him, and there’s little annoyed snorts. He’s never claimed to be an animal lover, but he’s getting the impression they don’t like him either.

“Once we get to the ferry, I’ll be outta your hair.” He whispers and the horse snorts in reply. The tenuous friendship continues past the music shop.

How does Jasper know his way around Lollardum? He watches the soldier lead Nicole through the crowds even taking a short cut or two that would have resulted in Zack being lost for hours. In fact, he knows little about him. He’s good at cards, yes, Chris’s wallet may never fully recover. He recalls another player congratulating him on his marriage at their last game.

Zack must have some sway over him, to call a recently married man away from his marriage bed. If that’s the case, the knight has a rather cruel side to his shining persona. But he can’t complain, he’s come in handy; especially distracting Nicole from the soldiers following behind him.

They have the decency to wear a jacket over their uniforms, but the military insignia is still on the horse’s saddles. They stare a hole in the back of his neck. The bloody shirt sticks to his skin and his hands ache as they grip the reigns. But he keeps his body straight; eyes forward. The agony ripples through his body, any minute the charade can end.

Then Jasper turns in his saddle, an unspoken joke fades from his face when his eyes lock onto the men behind them. The broad shoulders and the weapons hanging from their saddles. It’s a quick glance and a faster whip of the reigns before Jasper’s horse races off with Nicole quick to keep pace.

Chris’s own horse is slow to join, but when the soldiers race towards him the horse gallops out of reach. Someone shouts ‘stop’ but he’s too far ahead to care. Jasper takes a sharp turn down a cramped side street. His knees graze the crumbling moldy walls. The leaning buildings block out the sun; casting the street in a balmy shade. Both horses leap over the empty carboard boxes on the ground. But not his horse, like a bull, he plows through them kicking up debris in his face.

His friends vanish around a corner. The commander cuts across the entrance; his horse bucks nearly tossing him backwards. Trapped in the narrow space; the horse side steps snorting at the other horse. They close in, pushing their panting horses towards his. There’s no where to go but back, he motions for the horse to retreat, with no room to maneuver he trots backwards.

Unwilling to abandon their target, they follow him in. It’s a tight fit, their horses are wider; built to carry armoured soldiers, and soon take up the whole space. His horse panics, the soldiers urge their mounts closer. It’s the unremarkable scuffling sound that puts a smile on his face. Three more steps and the determined look of the leader washes away. Chris’s saucy steed still retreats but pauses when it notices the other horse is stuck. His partner draws his sword but can’t climb over him to get to Chris.

“I trust you know the way home?” he pats his horse’s neck and hoists himself onto the overhead window ledge. Between the scrambling and shouting, he pulls himself over the window, to a balcony, and a series of lopsided roofs until he’s out of reach. But the time he looks back his horse is gone. However, the two men alternate from pull at the commander’s legs and pushing the horse free to bother with him. Shouts and swears echo as he climbs to the top.

Careful to avoid the sunken sections of the flimsy roof he darts over the uneven patched surface. The crowd below looks like ants, marching about their tasks with the embed and flow of the streets. The disgruntled pigeons flee as he pushes past them, swirling overhead before finding a new perch. The faint ring of ship’s bells drift over the plumes of smog. He smells the harbour before he sees it. The salt water mixed with rotting seafood. He can already picture the white foam floating in clumps on the surface. Nevertheless, its where his freedom lies; with any luck the other two are already aboard the ferry.

Two yellow wooden pillars mark the entrance to the docks. After the grime of the rooftops the pillars, and dock life in general, is a mass of vibrant colors. From the international flags, the clothes from foreign cities, and the rich treasure from the Merchant’s ships; the area springs to life. The fishwives shout from the cart, inciting the shoppers with their limp mackerels. Barrels of salt line shopping stalls and the docks creak under his feet. He walks with his hands in his pockets, trying to make himself as small as possible, hoping to slip from the wharfs unnoticed.

“Hey, you!” calls a sailor from beside the tavern. He’s large with melon size biceps and a leathery tan. “Yeah you, I know you.” A man in a salt-stained shirt joins the first. The first curls his callous finger, beckoning him to his side.

“Listen, I don’t want any trouble. I just need to get to the Fairwater and I’ll be gone.”

“Aren’t you the guy who runs with the Butchers?” The second asks, braiding three strain rope in his hands. “You ran with Artie, right?”

“I don’t run with anyone anymore. I know Artie, did some jobs, but we aren’t together.”

“Rey, are you sure he’s the same guy? I’m not so sure anymore, he’s not dressed like one of the Butchers?”

“I’m sure Gunner, I’ve seen him around here loads.”

“Guys, does this have a point?”

“Oh, sorry to be wasting your time, my lord” Rey giggles.

“Cannonball Carter’s been asking around about Artie, we was wondering if you knew what happened to him, that’s all.”

“Cannonball Carter, the leader of the Plunderers is asking around about Artie?” The Plunderers are one of the prominent gangs of the docks. Its a known fact they’ll get anything past customs and the harbour master for the right price.

“I’ve been out of reach lately. Last time I saw Artie he was licking his wounds after an encounter with a Mage. What’s happened to him?”

“Man turned up dead!” Rey exclaims, tossing the rope in the bucket beside him. “Went belly up and they found him floating in the canal a few weeks back.”

“Dead? How?”

“That’s why we’re asking you!” Gunner chuckles.

“I guess he got in over his head.” Or Bayliss is tying up loose ends. The ships at the berth seem to close in around him. Lollardum is getting smaller and smaller by the minute. And he needs to leave.

“I’ll say!” he smirks, flicking a piece of food from his teeth. “Carter knows he was tied up in some weird stuff. That explosion a while back took out a lot of our storage space. Its funny, we usually know what’s in where around these parts. But times a changing. There’s a private wharf being built, away from prying eyes, if you get me.”

“Carter’s worried about someone encroaching on his turf huh?” Its an interesting possibility. If Bayliss is bypassing the natural corrupt law and order of the dockyard, then it makes sense they’ll be inquiring. Gunner puts his finger to his nose giving a knowing nod. “From my understanding, nothing gets built on the harbour without him knowing. You’re telling me there’s no name tied to the new project.”

“Lips are tighter than a duck’s arse.”

“You know what they say, true anonymity is a rich man’s game.”

“Yeah, that’s what we figure too. Its worth a shot, anyway.” Rey shrugs, spiting phlegm on the ground.

“It goes without saying, if you get wind of anything, Carter will be generous.”

“Will do, send Carter my best.”

He gives his best Blue Blood impression with a mock bow before taking his leave. The sailors chuckle but his mind is already drifting to Artie. The oily face mouth breather with a tough left hook. Artie wasn’t the brightest, he lacked a critical moral fortitude, but he was there in a pinch. He was what they referred to as a hopper. Hopping to whichever job had the possibility of the best outcome. Artie got mixed up with Bayliss, the average Blue Blood with a dream for climbing the social ladder. What the Plunders probably didn’t know was that Artie got caught up in kidnapping Mages for his little experiments.

That’s what makes all this sick. Its what he didn’t want Eclipse to catch wind of. Its why Moira can’t get involved. Once she finds out, she’ll storm down here to put an end to it. But Bayliss isn’t playing games here, not with the weapon he’s forging. All anyone has to do is look at Artie. Bayliss must be close, he’s cutting the loose strings. And he’s next.

People, sailors, and shipping crates cram the docks as the gulls’ cry overhead. The bell cuts through the noise of the passengers. To his dismay he spies the Fairwater pulling the first rope on board. Waving from the deck is Nicole. Dammit, you aren’t leaving me here now. Not after all this shit. He races over the planks, pushing anyone in his way. His lungs burn as his heart slams against his ribs. The third rope slips its cleat, a sailor heaves it on deck. Chris, face pink and sweaty, reaches the dock as the sailor yanks the last rope on board.

“Chris!” Summoning the last of his strength, he leaps from the edge; grabbing the gunnel as the S.S Fairwater slips the dock. “You’re a madman!” She heaves him over the railing.

“Did you miss me, princess?” She helps him to a wooden bench as he catches his breath. The sailors carry out their tasks, freeing the sails as the wind pushes them out of the harbour.

“Glad you made it after all,” Jasper smirks.

“It was close, but we did it. Thanks for your help. Guess you came in handy after all.”

“Make sure you give Zack a glowing report. Anyway, you catch your breath and I’ll see that the carriage hasn’t been tampered with.”

He didn’t think of that. Although he wouldn’t put it pass someone to rig the carriage in some way. Once he’s gone Nicole sits next to him, leaning in so only he can hear her.

“Will you tell me what all this was about?”

“I think you know I won’t.”

“Seriously? We almost died— Alona Praise be— and you plan to keep me in the dark?”

“I didn’t ask for you to rescue me, if you went to the ferry like everyone told you to do, then you wouldn’t have had to see all this. You could’ve been back in Alexanderia having tea with your bestie.”

“When I told Moira I was finished running, I meant it. I wasn’t leaving you behind. Something terrible is happening here. I know this is none of my business, and I will not convince you to confide in me if your heart is unwilling. But someone must tell Moira. I am convicted more than ever that Lollardum is a threat to Alexanderia.”

“Even more so now that the Treaty will be demolished.”

“It was the only way to get his help…”

“I’m not judging princess, your hearts in the right place. I’m just making a point that our decisions have consequences. What you just saw here, are the consequences of my actions.”

“You need to tell her.”

“She got more important things to worry about than me.”

“You rather she hears from someone else? Zack will be furious when the guards debrief him.”

“Doubt it,” shaking his head, “he saved my life that night, and I don’t know how many others. Why do you think he brought me to Alexanderia in the first place? To keep me from the repercussions. Come on kitten, you need to get it together if you’re going to play with the big kids.”

“Why would Zack keep it from her?”

“Secrets are dangerous, a poison that seeps into the blood; once released it’s hard to reign in the aftermath. If you love Moira like you say you do, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

“The thought of lying makes me sick.”

As the boat sails from the inland shoals, the boat lurches as it reaches the wild ocean waves. She clutches her stomach as her other hand flies to cover her mouth, preventing her stomach contents from escaping over the deck.

“You’re never going to get used to this whole boat thing, are you?” He jokes, but his voice is kind. She shakes her head, embarrassed that the events from the beginning of their trip repeats now. “I’ll fetch the royal bucket.”