“This and that,” said Horst. He tossed the man a copper.

The dockworker pocketed it with a wink and a nudge. “Right you are, sir. This an’ that. I know a dodge when I see one. But no need to fear old Ulric; mum’s th’ word, it is. Be seeing you, then, sir.” He strolled off, whistling.

As it turned out, Clovis was absent from the docks. After getting directions, it took them a half hour to walk to his house on the other side of Narda, where they found Clovis planting iris bulbs along the path to his front door. He was a stout man with sunburned cheeks and a salt-and-pepper beard. An additional hour passed before they could convince the mariner that they really were interested in his barges, despite the season, and then troop back to the sheds, which he unlocked to reveal three identical barges, theMerrybell, Edeline, andRed Boar.

Each barge was seventy-five feet long, twenty feet wide, and painted rust red. They had open holds that could be covered with tarpaulins, a mast that could be erected in the center for a single square sail, and a block of above-decks cabins at the rear—or aft, as Clovis called it—of the craft.

“Their draft be deeper than that of an inland scow,” explained Clovis, “so you needn’t fear them capsizing in rough weather, though you’d do well to avoid being caught in a real tempest. These barges aren’t meant for the open sea. They’re meant to stay within sight of land. And now be the worst time to launch them. By my honor, we’ve had nothing but thunderstorms every afternoon for a month.”

“Do you have crews for all three?” asked Roran.

“Well now . . . see, there’s a problem. Most of the men I employ left weeks ago to hunt seals, as they’re wont to do. Since I need them only after the harvest, they’re free to come and go as they please for the rest of the year. . . . I’m sure you fine gentlemen understand my position.” Clovis tried to smile, then glanced between Roran, Horst, and Baldor as if uncertain whom to address.

Roran walked the length of theEdeline, examining it for damage. The barge looked old, but the wood was sound and the paint was fresh. “If we replace the missing men in your crews, how much would it cost to go to Teirm with all three barges?”

“That depends,” said Clovis. “The sailors earn fifteen coppers per day, plus as much good food as they can eat and a dram of whisky besides. What your men earn be your own business. I won’t put them on my payroll. Normally, we also hire guards for each barge, but they’re—”

“They’re off hunting, yes,” said Roran. “We’ll provide guards as well.”

The knob in Clovis’s tanned throat jumped as he swallowed. “That’d be more than reasonable . . . so it would. In addition to the crew’s wages, I charge a fee of two hundred crowns, plus recompense for any damage to the barges on account of your men, plus—as both owner and captain—twelve percent of the total profit from sale of the cargo.”

“Our trip will have no profit.”

That, more than anything, seemed to unnerve Clovis. He rubbed the dimple in his chin with his left thumb, began to talk twice, stopped, then finally said, “If that be the case, another four hundred crowns upon completion of the voyage. What—if I may make so bold as to inquire—do you wish to transport?”

We frighten him,thought Roran. “Livestock.”

“Be it sheep, cattle, horses, goats, oxen . . . ?”

“Our herds contain an assortment of animals.”

“And why do you want to take them to Teirm?”

“We have our reasons.” Roran almost smiled at Clovis’s confusion. “Would you consider sailing past Teirm?”

“No! Teirm’s my limit, it is. I don’t know the waters beyond, nor would I want to be gone any longer from my wife and daughter.”

“When could you be ready?”

Clovis hesitated and executed two little steps. “Mayhap five or six days. No . . . no, you’d better make it a week; I have affairs that I must attend to before departing.”

“We’d pay an additional ten crowns to leave day after tomorrow.”

“I don’t—”

“Twelve crowns.”

“Day after tomorrow it is,” vowed Clovis. “One way or another, I’ll be ready by then.”

Trailing his hand along the barge’s gunwale, Roran nodded without looking back at Clovis and said, “May I have a minute alone to confer with my associates?”

“As you wish, sir. I’ll just go for a turn about the docks until you’re done.” Clovis hurried to the door. Just as he exited the shed, he asked, “I’m sorry, but what’d be your name again? I fear I missed it earlier, an’ my memory can be something dreadful.”

“Stronghammer. My name is Stronghammer.”

“Ah, of course. A good name, that.”

When the door closed, Horst and Baldor converged on Roran. Baldor said, “We can’t afford to hire him.”

“We can’t affordnot to,” replied Roran. “We don’t have the gold to buy the barges, nor do I fancy teaching myself to handle them when everyone’s lives depend on it. It’ll be faster and safer to pay for a crew.”

“It’s still too expensive,” said Horst.

Roran drummed his fingers against the gunwale. “We can pay Clovis’s initial fee of two hundred crowns. Once we reach Teirm, though, I suggest that we either steal the barges using the skills we learn during the trip or incapacitate Clovis and his men until we can escape through other means. That way, we avoid paying the extra four hundred crowns, as well as the sailors’ wages.”