The Shadowy Path - 26. Chapter 26

Josel

The escape route from Marta Donthav's house was blocked. When the shadow sentries raised their rifles to aim, Ragart responded in kind. Melgy also drew the pistol she had hidden in her clothing. Jolanda's horse snorted, and Josel watched in fascination as she made a spectacular turn on it in front of them.

When she had stopped her horse, Jolanda nodded to Josel. "Josel," she said with a smile.

"Jolanda," Josel replied huskily. His cheeks were hot and his legs felt sluggish.

They looked at each other for a moment before Jolanda spoke again. "Josel, I've come to take you home."

The others were also looking at Josel. Zal coughed significantly and Ragart opened his mouth.

"Blessed be the sky above me!" Ragart exclaimed. "Shadow sentries! I am a merchant who faithfully pays my tithe to the Shadow Cross. As a shadow walker myself, I was attacked by these thugs, who now lie on the ground. They served the cursed governor, and I had to waste many precious bullets on them. Could you perhaps inspect this house for me? There must be more of these greedy bandits..."

"Shut up, fatty!" Jolanda snapped. "I'm sick of listening to your ramblings. The boys are coming with me. I can let the rest of you go if you give them up voluntarily. Otherwise, you will all be on trial not only for these murders, but also for kidnapping."

Immediately after Jolanda's words, a loud voice grated on Josel's ears. It was a strange mixture of a crackle and a shrill screech.

It took Josel a moment to realise that it was Zal. The old man was blowing into a small wooden whistle, which emitted a whine that made Josel cover his ears with his hands. It was amazing that such a small object could make such a loud noise.

Jolanda tried to shout something, but her words were muffled until Zal suddenly stopped blowing. "...my patience. If this goes on, we'll have to shoot you."

"The Shadow Cross has no legal authority to shoot anyone in Ipalos," Zal said calmly.

"What do you think you know, old fart? The governor is defeated," said Jolanda.

"Illegal rebellion does not make power legal."

"I didn't come here to listen to moralising, but to collect the boys who are to be handed over to me when I meet them, on the orders of Isendar Vargan, the Shadow Cross regional director for Ipalos and Paidos."

"I don't think we can reach an agreement," Zal replied.

"The boys are mine. You big lump, put that boy down," Jolanda commanded, pointing at Marl, who was carrying limp Zdain in his arms.

Zal looked at Jolanda appraisingly. "I guess you don't know who you're talking to," he said.

"I'm talking to four intruders who are defying the explicit orders of Isendar Vargan."

"As you wish, missy."

Jolanda scowled at Zal's words and turned to Josel. "Josel honey, come here and let's go," she said softly, waving an inviting hand.

Josel bit his chapped lips, weighing the situation. Jolanda had been nice to him so far, so why shouldn't she be in the future. Besides, any option won the Faceless' basement.

"He's not coming," Melgy's hoarse voice suddenly echoed. She wrapped her arm around Josel's neck and pressed the pistol to his temple. "Stay still and you won't get hurt," the woman whispered.

Josel felt like he was short of breath. Just one pull of the trigger and it would all be over. To Melgy and her company, a teenage boy's life means little if it buys a way out of the shadow sentries' blockade.

While Zal smiled approvingly at Melgy's trick, Jolanda looked furious at the turn of events. She motioned to her companions not to shoot. Meanwhile, Zal raised the whistle to his lips for a second time and blew sharply.

"One more time and you're dead," Jolanda snapped, probably trying to decide whether Zal was being stubborn or foolish.

Ragart intervened again. "We could negotiate, my dear lady. The boy seems to be important to you. Perhaps some sort of bargain would be in order. I am a merchant by profession, I know the law of supply and demand. What are you offering to spare the life of this young man? For starters, of course, we want safe passage out of the city."

Jolanda was not impressed. "You are in no position to make suggestions. You don't even know how many rifle barrels are pointing at your potbelly. But since I'm a generous person, you can keep the other boy for yourself, as long as Josel is mine."

Josel did not like the way the conversation was going. Were they going to hand him over to Jolanda? What would happen to Zdain if they were separated? Would Zal and his comrades throw him into the gutter to die?

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Josel caught sight of something unusual in the sky. He lifted his gaze, though he dared not turn his head with the pistol on his temple. The sky was dark except for the stars and the moon, so Josel could not see clearly. But something was approaching fast, behind Jolanda, towards Marta's house. Melgy seemed to have noticed too, for she hissed a warning to Josel to be quiet.

Ragart continued to babble, but Josel paid no attention. Something was moving closer to them, but Jolanda, arguing with Ragart, did not seem to notice. Instead, the horses sensed a threat. They stamped the ground nervously, which eventually caught the attention of the shadow sentries.

"In the sky! Birds!" cried one of Jolanda's men.

Then Josel saw: a huge flock of birds was flying towards them like a thick black thundercloud. Hundreds, if not thousands, of simultaneous wingbeats drowned out the sound of the fire bells. Suddenly the birds were upon them. They split into separate flocks and swooped towards the riders. A crow-like cawing filled Josel's ears.

The frightened horses squealed and got up on their hind legs. The riders tried in vain to restrain them. But the birds - Josel guessed they were jackdaws - were too much for the horses. It was hard to tell if they were really attacking the riders or just buzzing around them.

The end result was still the same: Jolanda and her comrades were knocked from their saddles and covered in a flock of birds. The horses bolted off. Judging by the sounds, the same happened to the shadow sentries besieging the house in the darkness further away.

Zal's entourage, however, was untouched by the winged strikers. On the contrary, they left a bizarre empty space around them. One bird was an exception. A large, black-feathered bird, far too large to be a jackdaw, flew around Zal's head before diving back into the flock.

"Follow me! Ragart, you're last!" Zal ordered, running into the formation of the jackdaws. For they were jackdaws, except for the large bird.

Melgy pushed Josel after the old man. Keeping his eyes on Zal's back the whole time, Josel dove into the middle of the jackdaws. Melgy and the others followed close behind. Amazingly, not a single bird, not even a wing, flapped at them, and the path through the flock remained completely clear.

It was not long before they were outside the flock. Josel glanced over his shoulder, but saw only birds darting around. Somewhere out there among the jackdaws was Jolanda, alive or dead. There was nothing to be done about it, so Josel turned his head and picked up his pace.

They ran through the gloomy streets of the Merchants' District. Fire bells were still tolling and frightened-looking citizens were peering in their windows; word of the Shadow Cross' actions had spread. In one of the yards they passed, homeowners were hurriedly packing wagons. They were obviously trying to escape the clutches of the Shadow Cross before dawn.

Josel had no idea of their own destination. But Zal seemed to know where he was going, for he never once hesitated at street crossings. Josel was struggling to keep up, even though the pace had slowed since the beginning. The time spent in the cellar had taken its toll, and he did not think he could maintain even the slower pace for very long.

The wide boulevards of the Merchants' District were being turned into narrower lanes, and single-family houses by multi-storey tenements. The sound of the fire bells faded away. Still, there were other passers-by in the night. A child in a hooded tunic scampered across the street before disappearing into the darkness. A bored-looking prostitute was leaning against the wall under a gatehouse. A few times the shutters closed with a clatter as Zal's armed group marched past.

Josel glanced over his shoulder and saw Melgy trotting right behind him. Marl, still carrying Zdain, and heavily panting Ragart were stomping from a short distance. If only Monteilon could hang on a little longer, Josel hoped.

At the next street corner, Zal stopped and gathered his troops. "We're almost there," the old man said, confusing Josel. The city gate could not possibly be in this direction. Did Zal try to hide from the shadow sentries within the walls of Ipalos?

No answers were offered to Josel, as Zal again motioned for the others to follow, and they set off at a walking pace. They passed one intersection, then another. Zal looked around as if expecting something or someone.

Yet they were almost taken by surprise. As they were passing an opening leading into a narrow alley, a group of men armed with swords burst out of the darkness.

Zal yanked Josel by the hand and shouted the order to run. They only had time to take a few steps before a loud banging blocked Josel's ears.

He looked behind and saw Ragart standing there with his rifle. The merchant's gun was spitting bullets. The attackers fell to the ground, screaming in agony, and the battle was over in an instant.

"Shadow sentries, they're after us," Josel heard Melgy's call from behind him. This prompted Zal to encourage his companions to run again.

It must have been almost morning, for more and more people appeared as the journey continued. There were women in nightgowns opening curtains, workers trudging to the manufactories at dawn, and wily-looking men who certainly did not have good intentions. Ragart's rifle was enough to keep them all at bay.

Shortly, the street opened up into a large, lantern-lit square, with an ever-increasing crowd of people heading for the other side. Many of them were carrying bags and a few women were holding babies.

Zal meandered through the crowd, the others following. Josel looked around, puzzled. Where had they come from? What were these people doing here so early in the morning?

At the same moment, a large figure emerged from the darkness. A ship - no, several ships! They had come to the banks of the river that flows through Ipalos. A mass of people was moving towards the quay.

"The passenger harbour of Ipalos. Don't try to escape," Melgy hissed.

In vain, because Josel had no intention of running away. Not without Zdain.

Zal resolutely headed for the nearest ship, which looked ready to leave. It was an elegant looking paddle steamer, already unhooked and the paddle wheels were turning sluggishly in the water. But the gangway to the ship was still in place, and a desperate crowd had gathered beside it. These people were eager to board the ship at any cost, and many of them, judging by their appearance, seemed to be able to afford not only the fare, but the purchase of the entire ship.

A huge, bald, tattooed man, his upper body covered with nothing but an open leather vest, effectively prevented anyone from attempting to board the ship without permission. He shook his head at one of the citizens and grunted in a deep voice: "This is a riverboat, we aren't doing charity. Try other boats."

"They're full. I need a ride. Your ship is empty. I'm sure there's room for me," the man whined loudly, pushing a wad of banknotes towards the giant.

"The captain only expects certain passengers. No others will be admitted."

"The Shadow Cross will execute me! Have mercy!" begged the man offering his money, almost crying.

Judging by the expression on his face, the bald-headed hulk was about to say something rude to the desperate man. When he heard the Zal-led party approaching, the giant's face lit up.

"At last! We've been waiting since your luggage arrived. Step aboard, please." He briskly made room for Zal and confirmed: "There are six of you?"

"Yes, as I told the captain beforehand," Zal said, and walked to the gangway, ignoring the people pestering for a ride.

"You next," Melgy ordered Josel, before pushing him onto the swaying bridge.

"A beautiful lady is always welcome aboard," the giant stated when he saw Melgy.

"Thank you, Thombs," Melgy said with a small smile and walked after Josel to the ship.

After making sure that Marl was following with Zdain in his arms, exhausted Josel collapsed to the wooden deck of the ship.

Once they were all safely on board, Thombs pushed the crowd back with a heavy hand and stormed to the ship. Before anyone could follow, he had pulled in the gangway. At the same moment, the ship broke away from the wharf. People were swarming on the quayside looking disappointed and, judging by the splash, someone was even pushed into the water.

"The boy needs a bed and care. Is there a medic on board?" Zal asked Thombs, pointing to Zdain hanging limply in Marl's arms.

"No, but we have some herbs."

"Melgy, the boy will be under your responsibility," Zal announced. She nodded gravely.

Thombs agreed to lead the way and Melgy and Marl, carrying Zdain, followed him into the ship's interior. Ragart, still breathless, leaned against the rail and muttered something about the futility of running.

Zal looked around and then turned to Josel, who was sitting on the deck. The old man had no time to say anything before a commotion on the quay drew his attention.

"Shadow sentries, we left just in time," Zal said, smiling ruefully.

It made Josel pull himself up. He craned his neck to see armed men pushing their way into the crowd. The result was immediate: some of the people rushed headlong in every direction, and suddenly all the ships were in a hurry to set sail. Ropes were untied, engines whirred to life and funnels belched black smoke into the air. Their own vessel sped out of the harbour, paddle wheels churning, upstream on the river Frothy.

Josel, Zal and Ragart watched in silence as the dock receded into the distance. A command from the loudspeaker forbade anyone to leave the harbour area. Many of the ships had not had time to weigh anchor before the arrival of the shadow sentries. Josel wondered what fate awaited those who had tried to escape from the hands of the Shadow Cross.

The harbour drew farther away, disappearing from sight. Sunrise was yet to come, so the darkness quickly enveloped the ship. The river was wide and its banks indistinguishable. Only glimmers of light here and there told them that they were still inside the city of Ipalos.

Would the Shadow Cross be able to stop them after all? But there was no sign of pursuers, nor did the expressions on Zal's or Ragart's faces suggest any concern as they stared into the blackness of the night.

Josel took hold of the rail and sniffed the air, which smelled of tarred wood and smoke from the ship's funnels. No rotting meat like in Marta's cellar. Josel knew he should have been grateful to be rescued, but his mind would not let him rest. Where did Faceless lurk? Was it raging somewhere in the darkness as a snagost, or something even more terrifying?

The very thought sent shivers down Josel's spine. He started to feel cold. Would he ever sleep or eat again? The hunger squeezed his stomach so hard that he felt pain. And what would happen to poor Zdain? Would anyone on board be able to help him? Or even want to?

Josel gritted his teeth and decided to be brave. To give up would be to betray his father. A father he was unlikely to see soon, if ever.

Footsteps on the deck interrupted Josel's sombre reflection. A man of average height, probably in his forties, approached them. He was dressed in an elegant long-sleeved jacket and tight trousers. The lantern hanging from the bulkhead gave them a bright blue colour. The handsome face was adorned with a chin beard and a small, well-groomed moustache. His hair was dark and carefully combed to the side. Despite the furrows on his forehead, the foppish man looked youthful. His gait and demeanour reflected confidence and sheer contentment with life.

"Lord of the Jackdaws, I am honoured to have your company aboard my ship," the man greeted Zal with a smile and an exaggerated bow.

"Timos, you mean you're honoured to have my money aboard your ship," Zal said, the lines on his face smoothing out for a moment.

"Oh, you can also read minds now!" the man joked, not letting his smile fade.

The answer brought a short bark from Zal's lips and the men shook hands.

"I remind you that we're talking about my money," Ragart interjected, pretending to be sulky.

The newcomer spread his arms as if he had just noticed the fat merchant. "Well, the slyest fox on the trade routes!" he yelled with joy.

"Exaggeration," Ragart replied, wiping his bald head. "I am merely the most cunning of the southern and eastern trade routes. And the sturdiest fox too!"

The stranger shook with laughter, and Zal chuckled alongside him, at least half amused.

Josel felt like an extra and wished that no one would pay attention to him. But it was an empty hope.

When the banter died down, the stranger fixed his eyes on Josel. "Fifteen... no, sixteen years. Was I right? Ha-ha, I'm good at this. With that cute face and blond hair, I bet you've got a lot of girls doing great things for you. Thank your lucky stars - or mourn your misfortune - that I don't go for young boys. Otherwise you'd be spending the rest of the night in the captain's cabin."

The man winked at his words and grinned at Josel's dismay. "Well, joking aside. I am Timos Soldeimon, captain of this ship called Princess."

"Josel," Josel replied curtly.

"Oh, you're not much of a talker! Tell me, how does it feel to travel with such famous people?"

"Timos, he doesn't know anything about us," Zal interrupted.

"Always so secretive, Zal," the captain laughed, stroking his beard.

That's when Marl showed up. Captain Soldeimon turned to him and respectfully touched his temple in greeting. "Brave Marl Gaidok, it's been a long time."

"Timos, shut up!" Zal huffed.

"It's been a while, Timos," Marl grunted, glumly as usual.

Josel wondered if he had heard correctly. Marl Gaidok? It was a name known throughout the Andiol Empire. Marl Gaidok, Marl of the Silver Castle, the admired hero of the Battle of the Farthest Pass, the man who crossed Swallowing Marshes and Starveds' Desert for love alone, the bravest warrior and adventurer of the last decades, without equal.

Gaidok was said to be dead. He had not been seen for ten years, according to stories. Nor did the silent, gray man look anything like a great hero. Could it be someone with the same name? But why would Zal then have told the captain to keep his mouth shut?

Ragart and Zal had seen Josel's stare and exchanged an irritated look. This at least confirmed that Josel had hit the mark. He was indeed facing a celebrity, the greatest idol of Franz and many other adventurous boys.

Morose Marl remained silent, as always, with a sullen frown on his face. Captain Soldeimon, on the other hand, looked apologetic and suggested that Zal and his company might like to see their cabins. So they followed the captain and moved from the deck into the ship, Josel with the others.

"Melgy stayed with the boy," Marl said to Zal as they stepped over the threshold into what Josel guessed was the ship's dining room. Was this what they called a mess? It was empty, as the crew were working in various parts of the ship.

"The crew sleep in the forecastle down there," the captain said, pointing down the narrow stairs.

Ragart chortled. "We paid for the cabins. Don't you dare, you skinflint."

"Fox is always so vigilant and Timos Soldeimon always so generous. Your cabins are this way. Three cabins, divide them as you wish," the captain hastened to say, nodding to the doorway leading from the mess to a corridor. Having said that, Captain Soldeimon wished them a good start to their journey and said he was returning to the bridge.

The cabins were located along the corridor, two adjacent to each other and one a little farther away on the opposite wall. The door to the last cabin opened and Melgy poked her head out. "Oh, you're here already," she said.

"How is the boy?" Ragart asked.

"Badly. I think I'll be sharing the cabin with him."

A startle went through Josel. Could Zdain die? The thought was absolutely horrible.

Zal interrupted Josel's unhappy musings with a blunt announcement: "Son, you're going to be Ragart's cabin mate. Go inside, we'll talk soon." He gestured towards the open door and closed it behind Josel like a guard in a dungeon.

The cabin, lit by an oil lamp, was larger and cleaner than Josel had expected. In addition to the bunk bed, there was a table, two stools and a small recess for washing. The cabin also had a round window with a curtain in front of it. Beneath the window was a collection of thick copper pipes. After a moment's reflection, Josel realised that this was a water-circulating radiator, which carried heat to the cabin in winter.

As the cabin was quickly searched, Josel sat down on one of the stools and sighed. He was a prisoner, on a strange ship, with strange people. His beloved Paidos was getting farther and farther away, and his comfortable life seemed gone forever. He had to sigh again to keep him from crying.

The door opened and Josel unhappily lifted his eyes from the floor. Ragart entered, carrying a tray with a few slices of buttered bread and a lump of corned beef. The mere sight of the food made Josel's stomach growl. Fortunately, Ragart pushed the tray in front of him and told him to eat.

"Get a grip boy, Zal wants to talk to you. It'll be easier for you if you answer the questions as honestly as possible. Zal may look old, but he can be tough and ruthless. Much tougher than I am." The merchant patted his flabby belly but did not smile.

Josel, who was chewing bread, made no reply, but kept his gaze on the wall.

Ragart slumped down on the bottom bunk with his rifle in his lap. A moment or two passed in silence. The paddle wheels pounded in the background and the waves gently rocked the ship. Having satisfied his hunger, Josel would have liked to sleep, but he was not allowed to.

Zal opened the cabin door, walked in without saying a word and sat down on the empty stool. The sad lines on his face deepened as he watched Josel through his glasses.

When the old man finally opened his mouth, his words were angrier than Josel had expected. "I don't know who you are or whose side you're on, but I'll find out."

Josel gulped. The conversation did not start well.

"I expect only one thing, honesty. I don't know how Faceless interrogated its prisoners, but I can be nastier, believe me. So speak up!" Zal groaned.
It was an order. This was worse than Josel had feared. Had he escaped from Faceless and the Shadow Cross only to fall into the clutches of the fallen?

But there was no choice. Josel did not trust the threatening old man one bit, but he was still pretty sure that Zal would smell nonsense in a heartbeat. So he decided to tell the truth, but to protect his father as much as possible.

"I'm from Paidos," he began.

Ragart hissed noticeably between his teeth while raising himself up on his bunk. "That accent... I bet on Paidos myself," the merchant opined, but then let Zal continue.

"What's your name?"

"Josel Sandkan."

Hearing the answer, Ragart clicked his tongue a little, but Zal asked blankly: "Sandkan... is that a common surname in Paidos?"

"It's... quite common," Josel lied, afraid the conversation would lead to his father.

"You're lying!" Zal bellowed. "I've been to Paidos several times and I've never heard of more than one Sandkan. Lie again and I'll give you a strap." Zal showed his belt under his shirt collar. It was decorated with a row of metal rivets, the sight of which made Josel wince.

"Does this look familiar?" Zal asked, pulling a small pistol from the pockets of his loose coat.

Josel furrowed his brow before recognising the object. "Yes," he said vaguely.

"It is extraordinary to find such an exquisite weapon in the hands of two ordinary young fellows. What is even stranger is that I happen to know the owner of this pistol, Curtus Jerovann," Zal said.

Josel stared in shock for a moment before answering: "He's dead."

"Dead!" Ragart exclaimed.

"Did you kill Curtus?" Zal asked in a hushed voice.

"Curtus, no! No, he..."

Ragart interjected again. "Curtus would never give up his gun willingly, it was his most cherished possession, so I've heard."

"He gave me a pistol when he died," Josel said.

"For you? Haw! Hardly! You clearly know that Shadow Cross chick and pretending to be young Sandkan. No use trying to fool Fox. Get the strap, Zal!" Ragart shouted, looking very angry. "Now it's a question of whether you're on the payroll of the Shadow Cross or the Black Flame," he snarled from his bed, raising his rifle so that Josel flinched backwards on his stool.

"Patience, Ragart," Zal said, gesturing with his hand to silence his raging companion. "Speak, boy, but speak the truth," he said to Josel.

"I didn't kill Curtus. How could I ever have. He gave me the gun after a dreader killed him."

"Oh, a dreader! Don't take us for fools," Ragart growled, shaking his big bald head.

Josel was too exhausted to fight back. "I'm telling the truth, but if you're not interested in the truth, then kill me here!"

"I'd like to hear more about this dreader," Zal said, leaning forward. "Where did you meet one?"

Josel did not know if there was any point in talking, but staring at the floor he began to tell. "It was the night the Shadow Cross seized power in Paidos. We fled the town on horseback, Curtus, Zdain and I."

"Zdain?"

"He who is with me."

Zal urged Josel to continue.

"We were riding towards Ipalos, the road following the edge of the Veilwood. Suddenly we noticed that something was not right. Or I guess the horses noticed it first. It was a strange feeling, like a creeping fear," Josel described, noticing that Ragart had also fallen silent to listen.

Next, Josel told how the dreader had appeared out of the darkness. How they were all gripped by panic. How the horses had been frightened and how the dreader had glided on. He described the gunshots with which Curtus had stopped the monster. Josel ended his story with Curtus lying on the ground, dying, and offering his pistol.

The men exchanged glances. Zal's scrunched face was unreadable, but Ragart looked openly impressed. "He's seen a dreader," the merchant said quietly.

"And claims to be Josel Sandkan," Zal said in a pensive voice.

"A well-trained shade commando or a fallen doing his job could impersonate him," Ragart pointed out.

"I'm not a fallen!" Josel gasped.

"We'll find out," Zal replied. "Tell us more about yourself."

After glaring at the old man for a moment, Josel began to speak. Reluctantly at first, but with Zal's nods, more confident and encouraged. He spoke in general terms about school, Dad, friends, Curtus - all sorts of things about Paidos.

Finally Zal asked for silence and said: "I believe him, he is Andreuz Sandkan's son."

"Then..." began Ragart. "Then his mother..."

Zal coughed loudly. "Yes. Josel's mother, Idalae Sandkan, is dead."

Ragart closed his mouth and murmured his condolences.

Mom was not a pleasant subject to talk about. Besides, Josel had other questions on his mind: "Do you know my father? Where is he?"

Zal nodded, then shook his head. "I haven't seen him for a long time, and I don't know where he is now."

Josel looked at the old man in frustration and slumped down even more.

Then it was Ragart's turn to ask the question: "What about your friend, who is he?"

"Zdain Monteilon," Josel said, not caring if the information was worth to withhold.

"A relative of the deposed governor of Paidos, I suppose?" Zal asked.

"His son."

The answer seemed to please Zal. "Well, you could be useful to us. It's a good thing I didn't leave you for the forest spirits to eat."

"Useful?" Josel repeated worriedly.

"Yes, useful for our purposes."

"Whose side are you on?" Josel asked, cautiously.

"Side?" Ragart chuckled. "The boy is starting to learn. Everybody's always on somebody's side, or at least against somebody."

Zal furrowed his brows. Then he replied: "Being on someone's side is always relative. Alliances come and go. We even have contacts among hardened criminals. In fact, with their help we found your trail to Marta Donthav's house. Many would frown upon such connections, but that's not my concern. I am mainly on my own side against those on the wrong side. Why get involved in other people's messes when you can achieve your goals better by being loyal to yourself?"

Noticing Josel's doubtful look, Zal continued. "I give you my word that I will deliver you and Monteilon boy to your parents. The destination of our journey will be Five Hills. If we find your parents there, fine. If not, then you may choose where to go. Until then, you will stay with us. Even though you are Andreuz Sandkan's son, you are still a kid, and it is not safe to be alone on the roads these days. Especially when the Shadow Cross seems to be after you. Who is that dark-haired shrew?"

Josel pressed his lips together and fell silent. He did not want to say anything about Jolanda.

"Answer me or you'll meet the strap," Zal said in a calm voice.

A violent madman, Josel thought, but he did not dare try the old man's patience. Shamefacedly, and as briefly as possible, he told his affair with Jolanda Vargan.

"Ah, young love, so fragile and treacherous," Ragart sighed. Josel's glare silenced him.

"Yes, Vargan knows the means. Sends his girl on a mission when he can't get the information any other way. Well, maybe this little romance will serve us well in the future," Zal mused, keeping a straight face. "That's enough for now. The boy needs some sleep," he finished and got up to leave.

When Zal closed the door, Ragart let out a big yawn. "Boy, hop on the top. Fox is no longer supple enough to climb anywhere," the merchant said, yawning again. Apparently Ragart had found Josel harmless, for he finally let the rifle drop from his lap to the floor beside the bed.

Josel kicked off his shoes and socks and climbed a narrow ladder to the top bunk. The bed was hard and not very wide, but he did not complain. He was exhausted after a terrible night. Josel rested his head on the pillow and immediately fell into a deep sleep, undisturbed even by Ragart's thunderous snoring from below.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon when Josel woke up. For a moment he did not know where he was, but then the events of the previous night flooded his mind. Faceless, Jolanda, the escape, the ship called Princess, the interrogation… A lot had happened, too much in such a short time.

According to old Zal, Josel was safe now and on his way to Dad. But that did not mean that the man could be trusted. Likewise, Faceless, posing as Martha, had claimed on the Blue Moon side. Were Zal and his strange companions telling the truth? Especially as they were reluctant to say anything about themselves or their intentions. No, Josel did not dare to trust Zal.

Then there was Zdain. Josel had not forgotten his fellow traveller. Who knows what poisons Melgy had put into Zdain's mouth to cure him. He had to see for himself how Monteilon was doing. But if Zal or anyone else tried to stop him, well... there was nothing Josel could do.

He got off the bunk bed and found that Ragart had left the cabin. There was a bowl in the wash recess, so Josel splashed water on his face and armpits. It made him feel a little more refreshed. At the same time, he was very thirsty and hungry. He emptied a water jug left on the table, but there was nothing to eat. He decided to go looking for some food.

After stopping at the toilet, Josel found his way to the mess hall they had walked through earlier. There were two sailors sitting there, one of whom Josel recognised as the giant who had guarded the ship during the night.

The tall, bald man stood up and introduced himself as First Mate Thombs. He showed Josel to a seat at the end of a long table and said he was going to get something to eat from the galley. The other sailor gave Josel a quick look, but then concentrated on his meal.

Inside, the rattling of the paddle wheels could also be heard clearly. Josel had no real idea of the mechanism that moved the ship. Judging by the whirring and the funnels, there must have been an engine room somewhere in the bowels of Princess. In general, though, Josel knew almost nothing about ships. There were no major rivers near Paidos, and the lakes in the area were nothing more than ponds. So he had never been on the water in anything bigger than a rowing boat.

When he was ten years old, Josel had travelled to the sea with Dad, Mom and Curtus. It had taken two days each way, but the Great Ocean had been a sight worthy of the name. He remembered the foam-crested waves hitting the shore, the screeching flocks of seagulls, and the open water that stretched to the horizon. There had been plenty to tell his friends back home.

What would Franz and the others have said about the paddle steamer ploughing the river? Surely they would have been amazed, even though the riverboat was nothing like the great steamships, those new queens of the seas.

In a short space of time, steamships had replaced traditional sailing ships in intercontinental trade, teachers had explained at school. It would be a thrill to be aboard one. Josel imagined a steamship battling a storm, its engines roaring. Towering waves would crash against it, and people would fear for their lives in the crazily swaying cabins. You didn't get that on a steady riverboat, which was perhaps a good thing.

Thombs returned with a tray. Josel took a deep breath as he smelled the stew. The tray was placed in front of him, with a large glass of water, pickles and a hefty chunk of rye bread in addition to the stew.

"Eat to get stronger," the first mate urged, before returning to his seat opposite the dining sailor. Josel thanked him and began to shovel food into his mouth. Oh, how good it tasted!

After eating, he thanked Thombs again, who was deep in conversation with another sailor. With no one to stop him, Josel walked out the mess onto the deck.

It was like entering another world. There was no sign of the city anymore. The river flowed calmly and incredibly wide through the wooded landscape. The trees growing along the banks hung over the water, but could not reach the middle of the river, no matter how hard they tried. They would not have reached even ten ships sailing side by side, so wide was the river Frothy.

Princess steamed on, her two funnels puffing. Not slowly, but probably not at top speed either. A large paddle wheel spun at a steady pace a short distance from Josel. The water gurgled and splashed against and around the wheel. It was impressive to watch, so Josel walked closer to get a better look.

"Isn't it beautiful?" a voice asked behind him.

Josel jumped. He turned to see the foppishly dressed captain - Timos Soldeimon was the man's name, he remembered.

"Yes."

Captain Soldeimon grinned so that his jaw twitched. "Still so quiet," he said.

Josel decided to defend himself. "I'm among strangers on my way to who knows where. You wouldn't be very talkative in that situation either, Captain"

"You may call me Timos, as Lord of the Jackdaws and his comrades do."

"Why do you call him that... Timos?"

"You obviously know nothing about Zal," the captain responded. "And I'm not authorised to speak about him. But I heard how you were rescued from the Shadow Cross in Ipalos. That should give you a clue to the meaning of his nickname."

"The birds! And the whistle."

"Yes, Zal will tell you more one day."

"I doubt it," Josel grumbled. "He hasn't said anything yet."

"Zal's trust has to be earned. Once you have it, he is the most loyal of friends."

Seeing Josel's disbelieving expression, the captain continued. "Well, go to see your companions. They were just on the afterdeck. You can slip behind the paddle wheel, though hardly dry!" Captain Soldeimon said with a laugh.

The captain's words proved to be true. Despite Josel's best efforts to get past the wheel as quickly as possible, the cool river water splashed over him.

Shaking his wet sleeves, Josel thought about what he had just heard. Was Zal supposed to be "the most loyal of friends?" Maybe to his own friends, but not to Josel.

The group of four were clearly working on something shady or even sinister. Josel was sure that asking questions would not clarify the matter. He sighed and stepped around the corner to the afterdeck.

"...the faceless, the dreader and the Shadow Cross coups. There is too much here to be mere coincidence," Josel heard Ragart say.

Zal, Melgy and Ragart had gathered in a tight circle. None of them seemed to notice Josel appearing around the corner.

Marl stood a little farther away, staring sombrely at the white wake that lay in the river behind the ship. Josel still found it hard to believe that the grim-faced man was the famous Marl Gaidok.

But Zal's words brought him back to reality: "Yes. The Blue Moon needs more proof, those morons! This time I won't go to Five Hills empty-handed. If the fools at the Blue Moon don't listen to me, I'll make them believe with the help of someone else".

"Who do you mean?" Melgy asked.

"Izaskar," Zal replied, turning his head suddenly. "Well, the boy has finally woken up," he said in his usual voice.

"Short sleep, high salary. So they say among traders. On the other hand: high salary, fat belly - take your pick," Ragart chattered, patting his stomach.

"Are you hungry?" Zal asked Josel.

"The ship's cook is one of the best, on a par with the chefs of Vendum," Ragart pointed out.

Josel shook his head in annoyance. The old man and the merchant were deliberately wanting to mislead with their babbling; they had just been talking about something important.

The Blue Moon had been mentioned, but what did it mean to Josel? Cursed Zal was full of secrets. If the four claimed to be on the same side, why couldn't they trust Josel?

"I want to see Zdain," he said.

Melgy was the first to speak. "The boy is very weak. You are of no help to him," she said coldly.

"I want to see him, he's my friend!" Josel snapped, realising what he had said. A friend? Is Zdain Monteilon his friend?

But he did not have time to think about it, because Zal intervened. "Melgy, let Josel see his friend quickly, it won't do any harm."

"All right," she said, looking sour. "Follow me!" she added to Josel, and began to walk briskly across the deck.

"Son, we'll talk tonight," Zal announced before Josel hurried after Melgy.

They entered the corridor from the other side of the ship. Melgy led the way without a word. When they came to the right door, she told Josel to go in, but not for long.

The cabin was about the same size as the one Josel shared with Ragart. The difference was that instead of bunk beds, there were two narrow beds on opposite walls. A small round window brought light to the cabin and to the bed on which a boy so familiar lay.

Josel approached cautiously. Zdain's face was pale and his eyes were closed. He was wrapped in a thick blanket, leaving only his bare shoulders visible. They were marked with a few nasty looking bruises and nicks.

His hazel hair stuck to his forehead, wet with sweat, and Josel looked around for a cloth to wipe his face with. After searching without luck, he found himself sitting on a stool beside the bed.

Josel listened, at least Zdain was breathing. Surprisingly calm, considering how sick he must be. The boy's mouth was slightly open and appeared to be in a deep sleep.

What could Zdain be dreaming of? Maybe Paidos and an easy life in the governor's great palace. Or maybe warm summer days with a beautiful girl. Zdain must have had a girl in mind as well. Or how could he know, for Josel hardly knew Zdain at all. And he might never get the chance to get to know him. That's how weak the boy looked.

Finally, he could not resist the temptation and touched Zdain's forehead with his fingertips. It was burning hot. Josel felt bad, worry gripping his chest. What if Monteilon is really going to die? After all they had been through together. Zdain would never wake up to the realization that he had been rescued from captivity.

I wish there was something I could do to help, Josel thought discouraged. He did not know anything about treating the sick. There was no choice but to rely on Melgy's nursing skills and hope for the best.

Josel turned his gaze back to Zdain's face. He felt the need to say something, despite knowing the boy could not hear. Or maybe that's why he wanted to do it.

"Zdain, it's funny... you know, I just called you my friend on the deck, even though we're not. You don't like me at all, and I don't really blame you. I must have been a total asshole. So... sorry for everything. Get well soon."

It sounded stupid, sure, but saying it made Josel feel a little better. He sat still, watching sleeping Zdain. Finally he pushed the stool back and stood up. Outside the cabin, Melgy was already looking impatient, tapping the floor with the toe of her shoe.

"Is he getting better?" Josel dared to ask after closing the door behind him.

"The bruises, contusions and two broken ribs are healing. He should recover, but it seems likely that the fever will kill him before that," Melgy replied, somewhat emotionless.

Josel nodded blankly at the woman and made his way back to the deck. On purpose to the other side of the ship where Zal and his companions had stayed. He sank down beside the board, pressed his face into his palms and wept silently.

* * *