What he didn’t know was the layout of the Utland vessels. He’d spent his time on a captured Merofynian vessel. Only one of the renegade’s ships seemed to be occupied. A glow came from the hold. Perhaps they were still stowing the stores they’d stolen. On the other ship the renegades had either doused the lantern and gone to sleep, or they’d left it unattended. Garzik carried a small cooking pot of live coals, a jar of fish oil and a handful of rags. Trafyn carried nothing. Other than the glow from the hold of one ship, there was no light. Mindful of the importance of his task, Garzik crept down the path to the jetty, picking his way with care. Trafyn went as far as the beginning of the jetty then stopped. ‘That’s it. No further. I’m not dying for filthy savages.’ ‘Stay here, then.’ Garzik kept his voice low. ‘I don’t need your help.’ He felt the planks of the jetty under his shoes. They made hardly any sound on the weathered wood of the jetty. Ignoring the ship on his right, where he could hear voices coming from the hold, he made for the ship on the left.
