To the Rescue! (Maybe)

The captain looked none too pleased at the idea of taking Sharon into a fight against the guards. Cassandra could at least claim some combat experience if what she'd told him when he'd hired her was true. But he didn't even know who Sharon was!

He studied her a moment, trying to determine why it was she looked so familiar to him. Perhaps, he thought, he had met her briefly on a previous trip to Avery's Isle.

In any case, there was no denying her bravery. "You'll need a weapon, girl," he said quietly, pulling his dirk from his belt and placing the hilt in her hand. That left him with only his sword. "But listen, I want you to leave the fighting to Cassandra and me. Your job is to cut the bonds of those two, if you can. Jevan and Gawain," he explained.

He would have greatly preferred to get back to the Elfleda and gather the sailors that had been left to guard the ship before making their assault. But was there time for Gris or Sand? He still couldn't tell how badly either of them were injured, but the fact that the guards hadn't felt the need to bind their hands wasn't a good sign.

"Are you..." he paused his question to the women as the guard with the bandaged leg strode toward the tavern door and stepped out onto the porch. As the three figures around the corner waited quietly, perhaps wondering if they'd been heard, the smell of pipe smoke wafted toward them.

The captain made a hand motion to the other two, then crept toward the porch.

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