Free The Exile and the Sorcerer by Jane Fletcher Page B

the dock. She jumped over a coiled rope and rounded the last warehouse. Her boat was moored less than twenty yards along the quay, although it was hidden between the larger houseboats. For once, the east wharf was peaceful—enough for her to hear the desperate sobbing from the depths of a rubbish pile. The sound of crying was not uncommon. Tevi intended to give only the briefest glance in passing. She had no wish to be drawn into the petty feuds between the inhabitants of the houseboats.
    The source of the noise was a child of ten or so, huddled between two broken crates, head sunk on knees. The image of pitiful misery brought Tevi to a halt. All Aigur’s advice told her to keep on walking, but her sense of caution was dulled by the beer.
    She went over and knelt. “It’s not that bad, surely?”
    A tear-streaked face was raised to hers. The first thing Tevi realised was that the boy was not from the boats. He was too clean and well dressed. He gulped for air, but “Lost” was all he said.
    “And how did you get lost?” Tevi asked gently.
    “Don’t know.” The downturn of his eyes suggested that this was not the entire truth.
    Tevi sat back on her heels and considered the boy. The townsfolk were always ready to leap to the worst conclusions. Tevi could expect few thanks and even a charge of kidnapping if she were found with the child, yet her thoughts drew her back to the islands, where everyone was known and recognised. A stray boy would be quickly taken back to his family hall. Tears came to Tevi’s eyes as she wished she could be a child again—that somebody would come and take her home.
    Tevi stared at the dark, menacing bulk of the town spread before her, full of locked doors and strangers. She took a deep breath and held out her hand, saying, “Come on. Let’s go and find your parents.”

    *

    All along the wharf, decayed jetties projected over the polluted waterway. These were joined by lashed-together catwalks that formed a web of pathways between the decrepit assortment of boats. The rough-cut planks were covered with a slippery film of algae that made them treacherous to walk on—doubly so by night.
    After instructing the boy to wait on the dockside, Tevi sidled out along the rotten timbers. Her small boat was moored on the seaward side of the swaying mass, between two derelict river barges that each housed several families of dock workers. The jetty swayed beneath her feet as the larger boats were pulled by the surge of the waves, drawing tortured groans from the piles driven into the seabed. Tevi reached the point where her boat was tethered. The tide was ebbing, and her boat was rocking gently several feet below the level of the jetty. She gripped hold of the mooring rope in one hand, then swung over the edge and dropped into the open end of the hull.
    The boat was now her home. The mast had been lowered, and a waterproof tarpaulin sheet was draped over it as a roof, protecting the rear two-thirds from the elements. There was just enough space to crawl under the canvas, but it was adequate for her needs, particularly when judged by the standards of her neighbours.
    At the rear was a heap of blankets and spare clothes, under which Tevi hid her weapons. Her hand closed around the scabbard of her sword, but she hesitated. Aigur had given lurid warnings of the dangers one could find roaming Torhafn by night. Tempting though it was to take the sword, it would be better to avoid confrontation. A visible weapon might attract more attention than it deterred. The best defence lay in her coarse-spun clothes, soiled by work in the market. She hardly presented the appearance to attract the attention of the professional thief and should not need a weapon to deal with any amateur opportunist.
    Other considerations came to mind. Tevi peered from under the tarpaulin. Through the piles of the jetty, she could see silhouettes moving against the night sky. In what little honour they showed, the residents of the