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he also hadn’t counted on the man being such a sound sleeper. By the time he’d lit a candle beside the First’s bed and given him a shake to wake him, Mardon’s wife awoke and took a breath to scream. Cooper held up the candle to reveal his face. Mardon’s wife clamped a hand over her own mouth, then drew it away, quietly pleading, “Please tell me you’re not here to kill my husband! He nearly loves you like a son.” Cooper was trying to gesture that she should calm herself, which proved a challenge while still holding the candle. He set it down while making ‘shushing’ noises. It was then that Mardon awoke. His roar brought the entire boat to life, and likely woke everyone on the neighboring vessels, “What’s this?!? Attackers?!” He rolled partway out of the bed and reached for a saber propped at the side of the headboard. Cooper rushed forward to pin the man’s arm to the mattress while explaining, “Sir, I am just here to talk-” Mardon flung Cooper away as if he were a child and grasped the hilt of the saber. Cooper caught his balance easily and paused long enough to push back his hood before drawing his own blades, continuing to speak, “I apologize for waking you. I won’t kill you, nor will I allow myself to be harmed by you.” His voice finally seemed to register with the large man, either that or he finally heard his wife’s repeated exclamations, “Don’t fight! Don’t fight!”

Mardon’s eyes came into focus, “Kinsman? What in the murky depths of hell are you doing in my bedchamber?” Cooper sheathed his blades, trying to keep his expression impassive and his voice steady, “That task we discussed? The one I needed you to help me with? If it happens, it’ll be in the next two days.” The First was sitting on the side of the bed, rubbing his face. He’d released his grip on the saber, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter. Cooper could hear the sounds of people waking, the sounds of belongings being knocked to the floor, the stuttering grind of furniture being pushed out of the way, and the abbreviated squeak of rusty hinges as doors were being pushed open. Cooper added, “Might I suggest you let your family know that you’re not repelling boarders?” Mardon stood, towering over Cooper in the cramped space, “I should let you face them all, but since I don’t want any of them harmed…” The large man opened his door and announced, “Go back to bed. All’s well.” Cooper remained concealed behind the door. He heard one of the crewmen, “You shouted that someone’s aboard, sir? I saw no one. I swear it!” Mardon growled, “Go back to your post. I’ll speak with you in the morning.” Cooper felt bad for the crewman. The man hadn’t been asleep. Before Mardon closed the door, Cooper stepped around him, placing a hand on the big man’s arm to get his attention, “I’ll go now.” He then added, “What kind of Assassin would I be if I couldn’t slip past a single guard? Hmm?” Mardon stepped aside to let him pass but replied, “Stay a moment. At dawn, I’ll remember your intrusion, but might not recall the purpose for it. Give me a moment to wake up.” He pointed into the galley, “Sit. I’ll only be a minute. After an awakening like that, Nature’s call is too insistent to ignore.” He turned to his wife, “Coffee, please, my dearest. Or some of that fruit juice we had yesterday, if there’s still any?”

Cooper sat uncomfortably in a chair. The First’s wife said nothing as she bustled about in the galley, but the looks she gave him bridged the gaps between anger, disappointment, and fear as only a mother could. True to his word, Mardon emerged after a minute or two and joined him at the table. His wife placed a mug in front of each of them. The sweet scent of the unfamiliar juice filled space between them. Cooper could see it was a bright orange and the amount of fine pulp made it the consistency of buttermilk. As Mardon reached for his mug Cooper suggested, “Your wife may be angry enough with me that I shouldn’t drink. Perhaps if we exchanged mugs?” Mardon managed to stifle the boisterous laugh that threatened to follow his stunned expression. He chuckled, “It’s my dealings with you that’s brought you here. Perhaps my mug is no safer than yours.” Anger flashed across his wife’s eyes but she quenched it almost immediately, and in an exasperated tone she retorted, “I would never!” She focused her ire on Cooper, while shaking a finger at him, continued, “It may be your business to poison someone…” Cooper held both palms up in surrender, “Ma’am. I most sincerely apologize, both for my entrance and for my poorly chosen jest. Please forgive me. I had every expectation of waking your husband silently without disturbing everyone aboard.” She returned to the bedchamber muttering about ‘best laid plans’ and ‘good intentions’.

Mardon waited until she’d closed the door behind her, then he leaned forward and inquired, “The next two days, you said?” Cooper nodded, “As we discussed. If you can manage it. Otherwise, I’ll need to think of something else, or we just take our chances.” Mardon nodded, “I can manage it, as long as my people aren’t forced away, as sometimes happens. There’s been quite an increased presence on the docks lately.” Cooper nodded, “Your task might not be crucial, but then again, it might mean the difference between success and failure. It’s impossible to know how everything will unfold. This task I need from you just provides an extra assurance, and we’ll need all of that we can muster.” Cooper stood to leave and Mardon pointed at his mug, “You really should try it. It’s made from a fruit that grows very far away. There aren’t

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