They were both pale-skinned, far more so than the local traders bargaining with Finn, whose complexions ranged from olive to ebony. The soldier calling up had a close-cropped gray beard, long hair, and drooping eyes, and gave away a strange accent, undoubtedly foreign, with a harsh barking inflection. His companion was bald, tall, and lean, with a curl to his upper lip.

But it was their armor that drew Dion’s attention.

They were wearing shirts of steel links, like a multitude of necklaces woven together into a garment. The chain shirts were close-fitting and long-sleeved, so that only their heads and hands were exposed. Belted at the waist, the protective armor continued nearly to their knees before revealing leather leggings underneath. Shifting to get a better vantage, Dion saw that they wore black ankle-high boots.

Dion was a better archer than swordsman – by a long margin – but regardless of the weapon, he could see in an instant how difficult it would be to kill men so well protected. Their swords were also unusual, so large that they were worn on sheaths on their backs, with the hilts poking over their left shoulders. They both had daggers in scabbards at their hips; the long-haired soldier casually rested his hand on a steel hilt.

Dion frowned. Who were these people?

‘I am the Liberty’s captain,’ Cob called down.

‘The king sends his regards for bringing much-needed supplies to the city,’ the long-haired soldier called up. ‘He wishes to thank you in person.’

‘Of course,’ Cob said. ‘It would be my honor.’

Cob glanced at Dion, and, remembering his role, Dion caught up with him as he descended the gangway. When they reached the pier, the bald soldier, the taller of the two, looked at the axe hanging from Cob’s hip.

‘Leave any weapons with your ship,’ he said.

With a brief glare at Dion, unnoticed by the soldiers, Cob handed his axe to one of the crewmen.

‘My first mate comes with me,’ Cob said, indicating Dion.

The bald soldier inspected Dion, saw that he was unarmed, and nodded. The leader of the pair then started to clear a path through the clamoring merchants, all desperate to talk to Finn, who appeared to be enjoying himself playing one off against the other.

Dion saw Finn return his glance. His finely dressed friend made no sign of acknowledgment, the slight narrowing of his eyes saying enough before he looked away, leveling a hand at a nearby merchant and barking out a price. Returning his attention to Cob, whose mouth had tightened, Dion fell in behind the old sailor. The two pale-skinned soldiers now led the way into the city.