"Looks like I've netted quite a catch, boys," the captain laughed.  "King Gordyn's own herald, the winds of fortune has blown in my favor. My father can ransom him for all the Headlands.  Or the King can keep the money and we can kill him. In either case our cause is advanced. No more heralding. Make sure we catch the morning tailwind to Grastenport."

"Grastenport..." muttered Athero.  "I knew I recognized you.  The men called you Captain Petey.  You're one of Baron Visant's twin sons…you’re Pidric.  I should have trusted my senses when I smelled ocean swine. You will pay for what you did to Belgred."

"Maybe I'll pay for what I did," grinned Pidric, "but I think Gordyn will pay more for what he won't want me to do to you.  And if you think I'm swine, you should meet my brother Pidroc. You'll see how merciful I really was to let your friend end so quickly.  Leave them hanging, but if they make any noises, give them a courtesy whack with the oar."

Kidu freed his arm from his back.  He shushed Timlan, who was starting to panic.  He looked around the net for any openings but found nothing. Arthero was hanging in awkward upside down position, unable to move without kicking the others.  Kidu was able to note that there were around five men standing around the net, but some of them appeared just as confused as them. 

"I don't think the whole bunch is with Pidric," Kidu whispered.  "Perhaps we can reason with the hired hands."

"Captain Petey said no talking!" shouted one.  Kidu felt a sharp crack in the side of his head and was dizzy for what felt like a couple seconds.  He closed his eyes to shut out the numbing pain. 

Kidu opened his eyes to the meandering snowflakes fluttering in the wind. He was home.  White, soft snow blanketing the fields of Tienshan. He looked down at the valley from the top of the mountain. He could see the smokestacks. The Hearth Tower pierced the white snowy landscape. It was lit. The beacon was lit! Why was it lit? Where was Timlan? Did he leave the boy behind? No, Timlan wasn’t there. Timlan jumped off the cliff, he remembered. No, wait. Timlan didn’t jump. That was the old man. The hermit. Wait, he wasn’t on the mountain anymore. This isn’t real. 

The white gave way to a blinding flash and the muted colors came to focus.  He remembered; he was on the boat still, except he was now bound and laying on his side on the deck. He could taste blood in his mouth, and opened up his mouth to gasp for more air. Suddenly the salt of the sea filled his mouth.  He coughed up the sea water. 

"Ah, you're back from the brink!" Pidric said, holding a bucket.  "Good afternoon."

A pool of blood was in front of him, but he was almost certain it wasn't his.  He lifted his head and found his three companions still tied up in a net.  The throbbing in his head worsened as he looked up.  Afternoon. The seconds had turned into hours. He felt thirsty but spit out whatever salt water was in his mouth.

"You were bleeding from your nose and mouth after you were hit with an oar," Pidric said.  "Beating people is such messy business, but you’re not regular people are you? You’re a monk, and you choose to suffer. What kind of person chooses that? Thank your friends as they thought you should be attended to. You see I am not a man without reason. A bit mean perhaps but still, a reasonable man. Even if the reason I brought you down and stopped the bleeding was to sell you at a higher price.  I heard you have an interest in our cargo.  How would you like to spend the rest of your life shoveling bat manure?"

Kidu laid his head back down and turned away from Pidric.  He was bound at the wrist but his feet were free.  He managed to get up to his knees and stared at the young captain. Something about him still seemed familiar. Yes. It was the face that seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Like one of the faces in his dream, below the water. Pidric cocked his head and watched in amusement. 

Kidu struggled but he managed to get onto his feet, his hands bound in front of him.  He eyed his companions hanging from the net but couldn't see if they were conscious or not. He spread his feet to maintain balance but the rocking of the boat made him lose it as he stumbled several steps to his right toward the stern of the boat and fell down.  The crew laughed.  Kidu struggled again, fighting the throbbing man n his head. He rose to one knee but again lost his balance to the rocking and stumbled a few more feet to his right.  The crew roared in laughter.  Kidu turned away from the men and curled on the ground, his back to his captives.

"That's enough, men.  No need to kick a man while he's down.  But if you're going to do it, make it mean something."  Pidric kicked Kidu in the leg as the men laughed.  "I'll give you some real sea legs."

Pidric kicked again but Kidu spun his body on his back with his legs outstretched, twirling like a whirlwind, knocking Pidric down.  When the twirling was finished, Kidu lunged himself back on his feet.  The crew shouted and jumped at him.  Kidu kicked and swept whoever he could as he avoided attack and darted his way toward the bow.  Soon he ran out of boat and stood at the edge, looking at the rush of sea. 

"I should cut your throat and toss you aside also," Pidric growled.  He now had his knife in his hand. 

Kidu was surrounded by the crewmen.  He looked at his companions, hoping that if they were conscious and watching, they could see him give a longing look. Kidu threw a kick but the crew kept their distance. They came nearer, brandishing swords and knives. There was no space left to back up. Pidric rubbed the edge of his knife against his grinning cheek. 

"You'll not cut my throat. You can’t have me. I belong to Angshar," Kidu said before he leaned backward and tumbled off the boat. 

Pidric and his men rushed to the edge of the bow and looked down to only the sea being cut by the boat.  Pidric laughed and pointed his knife at his prisoners.  "You see he might have been the smart one.  I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to sell him.  I was thinking of giving him to my brother Pidroc, who has a soft spot for unbroken young things that need breaking."  

He walked up to the three hanging prisoners, all of whom were conscious. “You never know how delirious some get while at sea. The rocking of the boat, the sun, some grow crazy.” He traced his knife against a sobbing Timlan's face.  "You can cry until there is nothing left to cry about, because by then you will think you've lost it all.  Then when you think you have the resolve to move on, you will lose more.  I will take the skin from your face and have you hold it so you can take a good look at yourself."

The men laughed.  Timlan closed his eyes and began breathing in a measured pace, entering a trance. 

"How convenient a trick for you," Pidric said.  "You probably can't even hear me, can you?  When we cast lightning down on all of you and tear through your flesh until you can't stand, we'll see if there is enough of you left over to hear the thunderclaps.  Someone give this lot some water, we don't want any one else going crazy."