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could come for her at any moment. Many things contributed to a long life as a Redcloak and one of those was being ever on guard.
    The fire the incident had lit in her blood gradually cooled and she soon began to whistle again. Katja enjoyed it and suspected Serdra did as well.
    The walk to the city was uneventful. She had traversed this route often enough to be unimpressed and Serdra kept reminding her to observe her surroundings rather admire them.
    Fields and villages and famed locations passed by and in time they entered the gates of Amerstan’s capital, heading the harbour.
    Katja did the talking, asking around for Raon Jom, and was directed to one of the taverns lining the harbour area. It was easy to find and they stepped into air thick with hops and people. They looked around until Serdra spotted the profile of a man fitting the description. He saw them a moment before they came upon him and turned in his seat.
    “Good day,” Katja said to the short, weather-beaten seaman with the messy hair.
    “Good day, ladies,” he said, slightly slurred and gave them a brief examination. “I believe we have some business.”
    “Indeed,” Katja said and discreetly handed over a purse. It came from Maron, as did this meeting.
    “We are ready to leave now,” Serdra said, and her demeanour knocked Raon slightly off-kilter now that his attention focused on her. There was a reason Katja usually spoke for them.
    “Yes, well,” the man muttered and peeked into the purse in his lap. He cleared his throat. “Will I need to answer difficult questions due to having ferried you?”
    “No,” Katja said, but hesitated before opening her mouth. They had paid for passage before and it hadn’t turned out well.
    Still, the seaman was either too drunk or too greedy to care much about the reply, since he stood up and slammed his hat on.
    “Well, I am ready myself. Let us be off.”
    He went ahead of them to the harbour with a slightly wobbling gait and led them to a boat where three men were passing the time with dice.
    “Cast off boys!” Raon Jom said with the force of a drinker. “Our cargo has arrived.”
    They boarded, introduced themselves with false names and sat down while the men steered out of the city harbour and onto the Inner Sea itself.
    Katja had never seen the city from this side and turned so she could see the walls fade away. She whistled a short part of the song before looking away and preparing for the journey.
    “It is said the ocean brings all news,” Katja said to the man closest to her once they were on an even course and there was little for the sailors to do for now.
    “News and seaweed, yes,” said the blond, bearded man.
    “Have you heard anything about this war chatter up north? Anything more than one hears in Amerstan?”
    “Eh,” the man said. “What does one know? They say old Hrolfur is on his deathbed and there is disagreement about who will take over leadership of Pine City. King Valdimar thinks he has a right to it, but the city folk want nothing to do with that northern bastard.”
    Katja nodded. This all matched what she had been hearing.
    “But is it really heading for a war? Does Valdimar mean to make good on it?”
    “Do men of power ever miss an opportunity to flex their muscles?” the man said contemptuously.
    “I am unconcerned with posturing.”
    The man snorted.
    “No, but rulers posture using human lives. They roll rocks and before you know it a landslide has started, beyond anyone’s control. You can bet your shoes that the first rocks are already rolling. There have been whispers of military build-up to the north all summer and you can bet your shoes that a man of power will put such a thing into effect. We will have another war soon. Bet your shoes.”
    “I will bet my shoes,” Katja said somewhat dryly. The man was clearly fond of the phrase.
    She looked out at the ocean and, lacking encouragement, the man did not continue his ranting.
    The Shade group that had offered