‘Aye, saw one of ‘em come ‘board not ten minutes ago. Smooth as rat-spit, that one, all airs and dainty but no amount of flower juice could hide the spunk, if you know what I mean.’

Kalam grinned in the darkness. Not precisely, you old swab, but I can guess. ‘What of the other one?’ he asked.

‘I’d hazard the same, only I ain’t seen him yet. Came ‘board with the captain, I heard. Seven Cities blood, if you can believe that. That was before the captain sprung us from the harbour hole – not that we deserved to be arrested in the first place – Hood’s breath, when a squad of soldiers comes on ya demanding this and that, it’s only natural to put a fist in their mawks, hey? We wasn’t ten paces from the gangplank – so much for shore leave!’

‘Your last port of call?’

‘Falar. Big red-haired women all gruff and muscle just like I like ‘em. Ah, that was a time!’

‘Your haul?’

‘Weapons, in advance of Tavore’s fleet. Rode the waves like a sow, let me tell you – like we’re gonna do this one, too, all the way to Unta. Bulge the belly like that and your master’s got wet hands and feet, hey? Good coin, though, I wager.’

Kalam straightened. ‘There won’t be time for a full refit,’ he said.

‘Never is, but Beru bless you – do what you can.’

The assassin cleared his throat. ‘Sorry to say, you’ve got me as the wrong man. I’m not one of the caulker’s men.’

The sailor paused over a bale. ‘Hey?’

Kalam dried his hands on his cloak. ‘I’m the other perfumed elect.’

There was silence from the other side of the hold, then a soft muttering, followed by, ‘Beg your pardon, sir.’

‘No need for that,’ the assassin said. ‘What’s the likelihood of finding one of the captain’s guests down here pressing the planks? I’m a cautious man and, alas, my nerves haven’t been eased.’

‘She ships, to be true,’ the sailor said, ‘but captain’s got three dedicated hands on the pumps, workin’ through every flip o’ the glass, sir. And she’ll ride any blow and that she has, more than once. Captain’s got a lucky shirt, y’see.’

‘I’ve seen it,’ Kalam said, stepping over a row of chests each bearing the High Fist’s seal. He made his way to the hatch, laid a hand on the ladder rail, then paused. ‘What’s the rebel activity out in the Sahul?’

‘Gettin’ hotter, sir. Bless them Marines, ‘cause we won’t be outrunnin’ a scow on this run.’

‘No escort?’

‘Pormqual’s commanded Nok’s fleet to hold this harbour. We’ll have cover crossing Aren Bay out to the edge of Dojal Hading Sea, at least.’

Kalam grimaced at that, but said nothing. He climbed the ladder to the main deck.