Journal Two
Within a few nights of him sharing his curiosity with me, he had a plan.
Upon the last night of the Beautiful's stay at the Frieburg docks, most of the crew would be having a last chance at freedom before setting off.
I had been watching the ship along with Berrin and observing its crew, mostly its officers. I had an uncomfortable feeling about the plan that he laid out, but I could not prove my own misgivings.
Because of the ship's eminent departure, I was working with others that Berrin had 'borrowed' from the other criminal guilds.
They were capable enough, but my discomfort grew with their inclusion.
Getting on the ship was easier than it could have been. We replaced one of their watchmen with one of Reisheld's men. The watchmen was bound, as Berrin had insisted on no killing, much to my relief. His name was Ashen, and his ability at stealth surpassed my own. He also had deadly skill with a long knife.
Sam was stealthy enough in his own right, but I found that I had to watch exceptionally well for him at times. But Sam was dependable and strong, and I had no qualms about him as I had worked with him before.
The other strongman was silent throughout my dealings with him. But he was a bandit named Riley, and he was deceptively stealthy and strong.
The hold was guarded still, but Riley was able to waylay two of the guards quietly and without much struggle. The lock on the hold was a beauty, probably Vodacce in make. It took me several minutes to pick with even my best tools. Unfortunately, I bent one.
Once I got inside, I never saw Ashen, Sam, or Riley again.
But inside, I was slightly confused at the secreted hold's contents. In the center was a long exquisitely crafted pine box. Other than this there was no other item in the room. The hold was bare.
Logically, this made no sense. On a fresh voyage, ships were filled to the top deck with supplies. And the space that was not needed for supplies were left to the crew.
Surely there was something else to secure on the voyage.
I rapidly came to the conclusion that the box was a coffin, and though ornate, the outside had no metalworking or jewelry. There was not a spec of dirt on its crafted features. Oddly they looked to be of a Numan storywrap. A story told in pictures of men and beast. But the wrap was in wood, not in stone or copper, or gold as typical of Numan storywraps. The wood was exquisite to the touch. And had no dent through mishandling or careless scrape. The pine seemed almost fresh, but there was some kind of finish to it. Not a glossy finish, but something that glowed with unnatural reflection with the light from my torch.
I did determine that the casket was Vesten, on the lid a ornate rune in the form of two arrows crossed unevenly, both pointing upwards, towards the top of the casket. The rune seemed familiar, but�
While I puzzled this, something had gone awry on the top deck.
Yelling.
The hold door was thrown shut and there was a hasty apology from Sam. At least I think it was Sam.
Before I could get to the door, the lock was relatched.
There was yelling and a few gunshots.
There was the hasty tread of sailors just beyond the door. I made no cry, but listened to what I could.
Soon there was a good deal of yelling from the top deck.
And a few minutes later. Silence.
The ship began to creak, and an unsettling fear crept into me.
They were setting sail.
They were leaving this night.
Without the rest of their crew.
My eyes couldn't be free of the Vesten casket and its featured rune.
But for it, I was alone and locked away in a fleeing hold, going only Theus knew where�
