[crow]

Ambrose avoided travel by ship when they could manage without it. There was too much about it that ill suited his needs--- the speed, or the lack thereof; the inflexibility of it; the close quarters; the same faces, for weeks on end sometimes. There were altogether too many risks, even discounting the fact that they got terribly seasick.

But they were also smart enough to know that sometimes, there was nothing for it. They had been stopped in a small port town, following a lead and a patron.

[crow]

They had thought that they’d had the risks well in hand, but circumstances had conspired to deteriorate the situation much faster than they had anticipated, and there had been nothing for it but to book hasty passage upon a small vessel headed further down the coast.

They boarded under cover of night, wrapped up in layers of cloaks. There was barely a chill enough to warrant it, and they knew it hardly made them look inconspicuous, but there was more danger in being recognized now.

[crow]

A cloaked stowaway may be a number of different things. Their own identity, if uncovered, was not so ambiguous.

They couldn’t quell the unease that quickened their pulse as they stepped onto the deck, however. They cast a cursory look over the vessel, and tried not to dwell on how very small it was. If, by chance or by luck, one of their pursuers followed them here, there would be scant places to hide, and no real avenue of escape.

And if he were here…

[crow]

No. Ambrose pushed the thought from their mind. No, he was not here; their last reports had him halfway across the continent, and even a determined man could not close such a distance so quickly. And if there were other pursuers, they would find a way to cope somehow. They always had.

Yes, so long as he didn’t appear, it would be alright. Ambrose would... be alright.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” said a voice at their side. Only years of careful practice kept Ambrose from startling.

[crow]

Inwardly, they were already chastising themselves; it was sloppy to allow themselves to become distracted at such a crucial moment.

Slowly, they turned to see who had spoken. That same measure of practice kept the relief from showing on their face, though the man might have been hard pressed to see it, covered up as they were. It was merely one of the ship hands, and not a face that they recognized. It was just as well. Ambrose couldn’t think of a single familiar face that they would have wanted to see just then.

[crow]

No one still alive, anyway.

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” said Ambrose. “I was merely… lost in thought.”

“If you’re worried about the voyage, never fear,” said the ship hand. He was a young man, or perhaps even still a boy, though tall and broad of shoulder. He thumped his chest with one hand and grinned. “Us ‘n the ol’ captain will get you there safe and sound. You have my word.”

“I’ll leave my safety in your capable hands then,” said Ambrose, letting their smile color their words.

[crow]

“Oi, Jack, you’re not flirting with a passenger when you should be working the ropes, are you?” A shout came from above, and the ship hand stiffened, his face coloring at the words.

“Guess I’ve got to get going,” he said, a little sheepishly. “If you need anything, just holler for one of us.” With that, he waved them off and made for the rigging, climbing up it with a deftness that belied his size.

Ambrose watched him ascend for a moment, then quietly made their way down to the hold below.

[crow]

They quickly found that it was not a place they could stay. They had known that the vessel was small, but it had admittedly been some time since their last journey, and they hadn’t quite managed to anticipate just how cramped the quarters were. There was room for the passengers to have a cot each, but only barely just, and that cot was in a room filled with very nearly nothing but more such cots. When the place was full, there would hardly be room to breathe.

[crow]

Not all the passengers were yet down, but there were enough of them even now that they felt immediately uncomfortable.

But to come in and immediately rush back out again would have been too conspicuous, and Ambrose was not young or green enough to make such a mistake. Thus, they meandered through the bunks, taking stock of what was taken and what was not. In the end, they stripped down their outermost cloak and draped it over a cot near the side of the room--- the only such one that was left.

[crow]

It was more a token gesture than anything, and they didn’t dare leave anything they valued down here, knowing that they wouldn’t be returning much, if at all. In all likelihood, this claim would be usurped by another passenger; in fact, they would be lucky if it was not stolen outright by the end of the voyage. They expected that much. But even so…

Fortunately, no one else seemed to see the need to pay them any attention. Ambrose left their cloak where it was, then went back up for some air.

[crow]

It would not be long before the ship left the dock, and even if they had been alone in that hold, they would not have stayed just then. There was little worse than a windowless hold for their seasickness. They had already learned this lesson the hard way, enough times and in such severity as to make them cautious of ever allowing it to happen again.

The ship hand that had spoken to them earlier waved from above as Ambrose made their way across the deck.

[crow]

Ambrose acknowledged them with an inclination of their head, then picked their way across the deck to the back of the ship. It was as of yet still filled with ship hands bustling about, but as for fellow passengers, there were almost none. The only one they spotted was an older man, enjoying his pipe.

They could not shed their remaining cloaks here. But then, they wouldn’t have had any thought of doing so until they were well clear of the port, and by then there might be chill enough to warrant their presence after all.

[crow]

Besides, the fewer people who saw them, the better. Even if these people did not know Ambrose now, they might recall having seen Ambrose later, if someone made it worth their time.

Ambrose took up on a box and looked up at the night sky, listening to the noise of work around them. There was so much to do, so much to think about… And yet their thoughts were empty.

I am so tired, they thought. How easy, how nice would it be, if all this could just end?

[crow]

If they ran away now, and shed all their pursuers, all the trappings of their current life... How sweet would it be, to be free of worries for once?

Would that it could be so easy. But if that were the case, they might have done it by now.

“Ho there, young one,” said the man smoking his pipe. This time Ambrose did not have to pretend not to start. They had known that he was there, and even tired and distracted, they had noticed when the man’s eyes turned toward them.

[crow]

Ambrose gave them a slight, guarded nod of acknowledgement. They did not wish to invite conversation if they could discourage it, but there was also no sense in being rude without cause. Rude was memorable, and they knew they were already hard enough to forget as it was.

Their luck abandoned them here, however, for the man came to sit near them, taking perch on another bench. He took a long draught from the pipe, then breathed out through his nose. Thick, billowing plumes of smoke wreathed his face, almost for longer than Ambrose thought possible.