Journal Six
A Vesten.
There was a Vesten chained to, seemingly left to die, in the secreted hold. I didn't think that he was alive, but I was wrong. The mad captain had put him there, as far as I could figure, during the Frieburg port. And had not fed nor given him water since. I had an uncomfortable feeling that the mad captain had plans for this man, plans for him to die in this hold, slowly and horribly. And it had something to do with the other mysterious cargo, I thought. I really didn't want to know what it was, but the mad captain wasn't going to get his way this time. The ship had been incredibly well stocked before she left the harbor, and with only half a crew, the food was not as vigilantly watched, as say, I was. I know I was risking a lot, but I felt that this man needed to be free, and soon, before I was put off. I used my pull with the maps to chart a course around this. There was a cape on the eastern shore of Montaigne that would do for what I had in mind. The Vesten could swim, which fared well in my mind, I only wished I could. But his captivity had diminished his strength. In addition to my ration, I brought what I could steal from the stores to him, and in as many days that I had, he was able to recover a great deal. I enjoyed his company, and I was sorrowful to do what I had to do. My good tutor, Andre, Theus rest his soul, would have approved of him. He thought I was going with him in the end, I could not. The cape was still a far stretch for a man, even one at full strength, and I could not do it, and he could not bear me and still have this chance. I had to stay behind, and deal with this ship and its captain. I gave him a good knife, a message to give to Berrin, and a bit of gold and wished him well. How he looked at me. How he looked at me, I'll never forget. I almost thought I wasn't a thief, that I had been something other than I had been. He cut me then, odd and more than a little painful, it became a straight scar across my arm when it healed. He smiled and then left the ship. I hope he made it, I think that he did, and I think about him every time I see that scar, and how proud I was to be me that day when he left.Return to Uncommon Valor