Several hours passed before everyone settled in for the night. The sleeping quarters for pirates began at sea level as a large hut butted up against the cliff. The steep wall provided some protection but the other three sides were left open to the air. There was a second hut stacked above the one where I slept. It was slightly less exposed to the breeze rolling off the sea, and so was used by the pirates of higher authority. A single room was stacked above that, but I didn’t know what it was for. Devlin and Agor and other senior pirates had their own private quarters at the top of the cliff.
Sneaking out of the hut was fairly simple. Apparently, pirates slept in much the same manner as they lived during the day, loud and hard. The bigger trick after I left was to get off the beach and back up to the top of the hill. Directly behind us, the earthen cliff was too steep for a safe nighttime climb. Stairs were carved into the more gradual hill a little farther down, but they seemed well guarded, so instead I moved up the shore and did some scrambling across an old rockslide to get up top.
I was surprised that Tarblade wasn’t better guarded than what I saw up there. A few vigils were making rounds, but it was as if they knew nobody would be foolish enough to attack them so they expected little danger. Still, I moved cautiously as I made my way toward the captured navigator.
Tilagon was asleep beside the tree, his head tilted so far forward it was nearly touching his chest. I wondered how he could sleep like that, when even in the most comfortable of beds I often had trouble sleeping at all. At least they’d given him a blanket. Devlin would’ve wanted him to be healthy enough to travel in the morning, before they killed him.
The knot binding Tilagon’s hands was nearly halfway undone before he awoke. I whispered that if he made a sound we were both dead and he quickly closed his mouth. When the ropes were untied, I helped him move his arms back from around the tree. He gasped with the stiffness in them but relaxed again once they rested on his legs.
“You?” he hissed when he recognized me. “You’ve come to kill me?”
“Don’t be absurd. Now hush.”
“In that case, I’m sorry for what I said before.”
“Listen to me very carefully,” I said. “Your ship and its contents are lost to the pirates. You must leave on foot.”
Tilagon nodded. He was already massaging his legs with his hands, preparing to run.
I glanced around to be sure we were still alone, then said, “After you leave here you must not be found. Stay off the trails and go anywhere they won’t think to look for you. If they catch you, there won’t be anything I can do to help.”
He put a hand on my arm. “Tell me your name so I can thank you properly.”
“Thank me by staying alive. Give me your hat.” Tilagon obeyed, then I said, “It’s time to leave. Now.”
He nodded again, took my hand and gave it a firm squeeze, then leapt to his feet and ran, never looking back.
I used the stiff wool blanket to prop up a piece of wood to look like a body against the tree and put the man’s hat on top. Up close it was obviously a trick, but from a distance I hoped a vigil would think the man was still tied up here. Less than ten minutes later I passed Erick’s bed as I entered the sleeping quarters. Harlowe’s watch was stored under the bed, and I was tempted to take it and hide it.
But I couldn’t. Not yet. However, I silently vowed to get it back before this was all over.
The following morning, I was one of the first at breakfast, though it was interrupted by another group of pirates who had gathered nearby and were jeering at whatever was happening in the center of them all. I hurried forward, concerned that Tilagon had been captured again. Fink stood near the outside of the group, though he was too short to have a chance at seeing anything.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.