The beast showed no sign of denying this.
"I know your only concern is for yourself. My safety did not even enter your mind."
Talking to Horse again certainly helped to calm his nerves. Heading to Tacham would be an unsettling experience for him. Finding himself face to face with Samor was another situation he would rather have avoided. He'd heard the name a long time before and there were numerous dead bodies associated with it. Many were enemies but too many were those who had signed up to fight alongside him.
That did not change anything, but at least he knew who he would have to fight to free his friend.
Tacham hadn't changed much. The rich smell of alcohol still drenched the town's many inns, most of which doubled as whorehouses for those who were in the mood to indulge in more than one vice at once. It also was home to a few gambling dens and purveyors of substances that could alter the mind, most of which were illegal anywhere else in the world.
It wasn't like the folk cared that it would kill them. Skharr knew from experience that few of those who spent their time in the area expected to see too many winters even without the dangerous habits.
Ahverna's kiss ran out half a day into the trip and he dragged his feet in the last few hours of the day and was barely able to make camp before he was out like a torch caught in a mountain wind blast.
He woke with the sun but the whole of the day's travel had been spent feeling like he was paying for the time when he’d pushed on without rest. His back and shoulders ached like they hadn't since he’d started using his fucking bow, his legs felt like they would buckle at any moment, and his midsection made him groan with every misstep.
The day had involved far too many missteps.
Thankfully, things had improved after a quick sip of a healing potion. Returning to Tacham certainly helped on one level, he conceded.
There was nothing even resembling a wall around it, and Skharr could understand that it had to do with the knowledge that anyone who attacked would be met with reprisals from hundreds of battle-hardened pirates and mercenaries, even if most of them were drunk.
He kept a firm hold on his possessions and made sure that none who approached him came close enough to have a good look at him or to sneak a hand onto his coin purse. It helped that this was the kind of town where folk liked to ignore each other unless there was business to attend to.
And for a place that had more than its share of criminals, there was considerable trust. Folk didn't want to see themselves banned from the inns, brothels, and gambling dens, so they mostly maintained the order.
A few wagons bringing food and supplies to one of the inns had even left their wagon out in the open without so much as a guard as they watched an altercation that took place on the streets outside.
Skharr was not worried about being banned since he doubted that he would return there in the future. With a quick look around, he helped himself to a few packs of food as well as a couple of apples from a barrel for Horse.
The true treasure he discovered was the small glass bottle of a rich auburn liquid that he knew a little too well.
"Of all the things I don't miss about this place," he whispered and tugged Horse around the corner from where he could see the owners of the wagon returning, “you are not among them."
He bit into the cork and yanked it out before he took a long sip. No one would look twice at another brute getting drunk on the streets of Tacham. The rum was powerful enough to make him splutter with the first sip but his confidence returned with the second. The feel of the city began to return to him. Everything about it felt a little more natural as he wandered through the streets and the familiar sights and sounds flooded back to him.
It felt only too natural when he stopped to share his ill-gotten bottle with a younger-looking man who leaned outside of one of the brothels. He looked like he was out for a walk or perhaps looking for work.
"You are a big bastard, aren't you?"
Skharr nodded. "So I've been told. Do you happen to know if any of the local captains are looking for a big bastard on his crew? I am light of coin and eager to earn a little more."
"I…the Empress Vassan's Redress was looking for a crew, I think, and they'll leave sometime tonight. Something about a group paying money for an escort through our dastardly waters. I don't know why anyone would serve on a ship named after some tart's dress."
"Redress means revenge."
"Oh." The young man scratched at his bald head. "Well, the group they took has their own fighters, and Captain Thatch wanted to have fighters on his crew if they tried to take over his ship. It’s not the kind of thing he said for all to hear, of course—very quiet-like."
The barbarian nodded. "Do you happen to know the group with the fighters? Have you seen them?"
"Aye. Even I know well enough to steer clear of the murderous bastard. I don't know how Samor still finds folk to follow him when they know he kills them all to keep the coin for hisself. They must be desperate is my thinking."
"Did they have any prisoners with them?" he asked.
"Prisoners?" The youth laughed. "It sounds like you know more about the shit here than I! But yes, they had a dwarf with them. He did not look keen to remain with the group, of course, given how he was bound. Perhaps he was a prisoner. He was small for a dwarf, though, so might have been a halfling. I’ve never seen a halfling before…"
Skharr left the man, who continued to chat to the air while he clutched the bottle in his hands. The barbarian hadn't expected Samor to find passage so quickly, so either he was incredibly lucky or he'd made the arrangements beforehand.
The fact that the captain wanted more fighting men meant it was likely luck on Samor's part. The whole situation reeked of improvisation, which might prove useful if he intended to follow them in.
He clicked his tongue and Horse increased the pace behind him. He could see the Redress docked and with movement all around it, far enough away that the men and women looked like insects from a distance.
"This…is probably not a good idea," he said quietly as he patted the stallion’s neck. "But aside from starting a brawl in the middle of the city and hoping that the confusion is enough to let us escape, I don't see any other way. So unless you have any better suggestions?"
He looked at Horse, who merely stared at him in return.
"Right. That was indeed a stupid question. But we will find a way through this. You have to trust me."
It was one of the largest ships that Brahgen had ever seen. Not that he'd seen too many in person, but he had read numerous writings on naval battles with sketches that showed massive ships with dozens of men aboard. These were usually depicted in vivid detail as they emptied flaming pots of oil, loosed arrows, boarded other vessels, and tossed their enemies overboard.
Who exactly had made the sketches was never said, but as a young dwarf, he had dreamed of being a pirate of some kind. That was, of course, before he was aware that being on the open water made him sick. The trip from the island to the mainland had been the worst.
The only small comfort was that Jenny was there waiting for him once they arrived but not Horse. Perhaps that meant Skharr was still alive. It wasn't likely but he preferred to cling to any shred of hope that not all was fucked and not all was lost.