‘Watch yourselves,’ Sparhawk muttered to his companions as they unsaddled their mounts. ‘Our captain appears to be an independent businessman with his eye open for opportunities.’ He walked aft to where the one-eyed man stood at the tiller. ‘I want you to keep as close to shore as you can,’ he said.

‘What for?’ The captain’s lone eye became suddenly wary

‘My sister’s afraid of water,’ Sparhawk improvised. ‘If I give you the word, put your boat up against the bank so that she can get off.’

‘You’re paying.’ The captain shrugged. ‘We’ll do it any way you like’

‘Do you run at night?’ Sparhawk asked him.

The captain shook his head. ‘Some do, but I don’t. There are too many snags and hidden rocks for my taste. We moor up against the bank when it gets dark.’

‘Good. I like prudence in a sailor. It makes for safer journeys –which brings up a point.’ He opened the front of his robe to reveal his mail coat and the heavy broadsword belted at his side ‘Do you get my meaning?’ he asked.

The captain’s face clouded with chagrin. ‘You have no right to threaten me on my own boat,’ he blustered.

‘As you said before, I’m paying. Your crew looks a little undependable to me, Captain, and your own face isn’t one to inspire trust.’

The captain’s face grew sullen. ‘You don’t have to be insulting,’ he said.

‘If I’ve misjudged you, I’ll apologize later. We have certain valuables with us and we’d prefer to keep them. My friends and I will sleep on the foredeck. You and your men can sleep aft. I trust that won’t inconvenience you too much?’

‘Aren’t you being a little overcautious?’

‘Nervous times, neighbour. Nervous times. Remember, when we tie up to the bank for the night, keep your men on the aft deck – and warn them against sleepwalking. A boat can be a very dangerous place for that sort of thing, and I’m a light sleeper.’ He turned and walked back forward.

The river banks on either side were covered with thick, rank vegetation, though the hills rising behind those narrow strips of green were barren and rock-strewn. Sparhawk and his friends sat on the foredeck, keeping a careful eye on the captain and his sailors and watching for any signs of unusual-looking weather. Flute sat astride the bowsprit playing her pipes while Sparhawk spoke quietly with Sephrenia and Kurik. Sephrenia already knew the customs of the country, so Sparhawk’s instruction was directed primarily at his squire. He cautioned him about the many minor things that could be taken as personal insults and about other things that were considered sacrilegious.

‘Who made up all these stupid rules?’ Kurik demanded.

‘Eshand,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘He was crazy, and crazy people take great comfort in rituals.’ ‘Anything else?’