Chapter 100: Those Who Returned

Westwatch’s harbor mouth lay ahead, with a coal barge moving clear of the approach. Frank waited for the space it left, then gave the substitute helmsman his next heading.

The cutter answered slowly. Severin stood clear of the wheel while Crowther sent men forward with the lines. Below, someone was still tending the leak. The sound of water being emptied carried up through the open hatch.

Warehouses stood along the inner quays. Carts waited behind stacked cargo, and men on a merchant ship paused their loading to watch the Vigilant Gale come in. Frank called across to the berth they had been given. Dock hands cleared a place for the lines.

Severin reached for his bag when the hull settled against the fenders. His left fingers closed late and caught only the strap’s edge. He left it where it was.

Crowther went below for Finch. The sailors brought him up on the secured board, keeping the blankets over his shortened leg. A man from the quay came aboard to inspect the lashings and speak to Crowther. Another waited beside a stretcher, holding the gangway clear.

Finch lifted his head when they turned him toward shore.

"Slow," he said.

They stopped until he settled. Frank came down beside the board and checked that the men at the foot had enough room to turn. Severin backed against the rail as they passed him.

On the quay, the blankets slipped while the board was being transferred. Finch reached for them. Crowther drew the covering back into place and stayed beside him while a medical attendant checked the dressing.

A sailor followed with Finch’s effects. Frank spoke to the attendant, then watched the stretcher carried to the waiting transport. He did not return aboard until it had gone.

By then a repairman was crouched at the steering gear with one of the crew. Fenwick had the ship’s papers open near the hatch. Frank joined them, listened to the repairman and asked when the damaged mechanism could be opened properly.

Severin waited until he could pass without interrupting. "Captain."

"Mind that hand," Frank said as he looked up.

Severin lifted the bag onto his right shoulder. "Thank you."

Frank nodded toward the gangway. Crowther was waiting there to help Rafael down. When Severin stepped onto the quay, Frank had gone back to the repairman. A sailor coming off watch sat on a coil of rope and fell asleep with his cap still in his hand.

Leo took them to medical rooms near the port. He carried the secured case in his right hand and kept Armin beside him. Armin stopped on the entrance step, breathing hard enough that Severin put his bag down and waited.

Inside, an attendant led Armin to a bed. He sat with his coat hanging open while a physician took his pulse and asked about the fever. Leo gave the account of his overheating without describing the work that had caused it.

The questions moved to drinking. Armin looked at Severin before answering.

"How much do you usually have?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

Armin rubbed his right hand over his mouth. The physician waited.

"I don’t measure it."

Leo stayed while the man asked what happened when Armin went without. An attendant brought water and remained beside the bed after the physician left to fetch something.

Severin had his own dressings removed in the next room. The cloth between his left fingers came away wet. He held the hand steady on the table while the attendant cleaned it, then turned his burned forearm when she asked. By the time she had finished, his shirt was damp beneath the arms.

Rafael sat near the door with a basin between his boots. He tried to rise when Severin came out, thought better of it and moved his bag instead.

Severin took the place beside him. Later, Leo found them there. He had arranged rooms where they could rest and left Armin under medical supervision. Before they went, Severin stopped at Armin’s bed.

"My bag," Armin said.

"It’s here."

Severin set the bag within Armin’s reach. Leo stood at the foot of the bed, his left hand freshly bandaged.

"I’ve sent for our healers," he told Armin quietly. "You’re staying here for now."

Leo told him the healers would need to hear about the earlier mission as well as the drinking.

Armin looked from him to Severin. "And work?"

"No field assignments while you’re being treated."

Armin turned back to the bag and pulled it closer with his right hand. Severin left with Leo.

After sleeping, Severin could walk without stopping at every wall. His right hand still tired quickly. At the table in his room, he rested the burned forearm on a folded towel and tried the pen on a spare corner of paper.

Leo had left him sheets for the account. Severin began with Armin’s drinking, keeping the sentences short and correcting anything he could not honestly claim to know.

The pen dragged when his grip weakened. He put it down and waited before continuing.

His first paragraph described Armin’s condition, then moved straight to the work they had done. Reading it back, Severin found that he had barely mentioned his own part. He crossed out the end.

He wrote that he had recognized the problem and kept it from Leo. Armin had remained useful, and Severin had thought he could watch him. He had used that to justify keeping quiet.

For the reason, he wrote that he liked Armin and had not wanted to be the one who got him taken off the mission. He read the sentence twice before signing the account.

Severin was still checking the account when Leo came. Leo closed the door, and Severin finished reading the last line before passing the sheets across.

Leo sat down to read, the secured case beside his chair.

"Is this accurate?"

"Yes."

He took out his mission report and laid it beside Severin’s signed account. Severin watched him add a note recording the concealment. Leo’s left hand slipped when he tried to steady the papers. He gathered them with his right and put both accounts in the case.

Severin wanted to ask what would happen to him. Leo had more pages to finish, and the account was already among them. He let him work.

Leo took Elspeth’s request to the mainland medical staff while they remained in Westwatch. Severin waited outside the room where he spoke to them.

When Leo came out, he said they would pass the request on; he had no date to give Grayhook. Back at their rooms, Severin saw him put it in writing as well.

Armin stayed in care. Crowther told Severin about his visits to Finch in the mainland ward. Repairs to the cutter’s steering were under way, he said, and the crew were taking their rest in turns.

Rafael was the first of the remaining passengers to leave. Severin found him downstairs, sitting beside his bag while he waited for it to be collected. His marked right hand was covered. He kept his head still when Severin approached.

"You look better," Severin said.

"I can sit upright. Don’t expect too much."

Severin sat on the step beside him. A porter came through with someone else’s luggage, and Rafael waited until the man had passed before reaching for his own strap.

"Let him take that," Severin said.

Rafael glanced at Severin’s bandaged hand. "Take your own advice."

When the porter returned, Rafael let him carry the bag. Severin walked with him as far as the door. They parted there, and Severin went back upstairs.

Leo gave him his leave papers with the Blackhaven telegraph collection instructions. Severin read the office address and the times he was required to check for messages. He went through the instructions for recognizing a genuine message, then read that part again.

"Whatever reaches the public office will look like work," Leo said.

Severin folded the instructions inside his leave papers. He had not decided where he would sleep in Blackhaven.

Leo stayed at the table while Severin fastened the ruined sword with his baggage, keeping the blade in its sheath. His left fingers would not hold the strap firmly, and he had to brace the bag against the table to finish. He checked his belt dagger before carrying the bag out.

The journey from Westwatch gave him stretches of sleep, interrupted whenever the bandage rubbed his forearm.

He ate when food was available and kept the telegraph instructions dry inside his coat. By Blackhaven he could manage his bag, though he still changed shoulders when the strap began to hurt.

He came into the familiar freight streets with his left hand tucked close to his body. A cart forced him against a wall at the first corner. He waited for it to pass, then turned into a narrower street he remembered.

The paving dipped beside a drain. He stepped around it before looking down.

At a food stall he paid without first counting out everything in his pocket. The woman gave him his change and went on serving the laborers behind him. He stood aside to eat, keeping his bag between his boots.

A man brushed past on his blind side. Severin turned too sharply, catching the edge of the stall with his shoulder. Pain ran down his forearm. The man cursed him for blocking the way and kept walking. Severin moved farther back.

He finished the food and asked whether Rooney was still about. The woman pointed him toward a yard farther along, then called to a customer who had tried to leave without paying.

He knew the way she meant. He went past the turn that would have taken him toward the old freight ground and followed the wall to an open gate.

Two men lowered a crate onto the paving inside. Severin stopped clear of them and looked beyond the load. Spud stood at its other end, bent over the loosened lid, his red hair visible above the wood.

Severin stepped into the yard.

Spud looked up. His attention caught on the patch over Severin’s left eye, then returned to his face. He let go of the lid.

"Saint?"