Unspeakable Secrets The Alchemist Series (A Dark Medieval Progression Fantasy)

Chapter 16 The Docks

A stiff breeze rolled in from the ocean, filling the air with a salty scent. Connor's cloak flapped around him, and dark clouds boiled in the distance.

He pulled his hood up and scanned the docks.

Captains barked orders, and their men rushed up and down the ships like ants, offloading cargo at a feverish pace in the fading light.

No name or even a face... No way to tell who their contact was in this mess. They'd have to wait until sunset.

The approaching storm rumbled.

Well, if he got wet so be it. A small price to pay to get back to alchemy. Hopefully, he'd learn something to put Victor in a good mood...

Adelia and Connor scouted the east side of the docks while they waited. They saw nothing to indicate an ambush, but the docks were a big place, and it was never possible to be absolutely sure.

The sun dipped below the horizon. The sailors finished up and left in search of a good time.

They walked the length of the east side again, scanning every ship and straggling sailor for any sign of their contact.

A man stood, hunched over the far railing on one of the smaller ships.

"Do you suppose that's our guy?" Adelia asked.

"Could be," Connor said, "but..."

"But what?" Adelia asked.

"Doesn't it seem odd to you? This guy is supposed to be extremely anxious to leave... why would he be leaning over the railing with his back to us? Wouldn't he want to see us coming, get this over with and get out of here?" Connor asked.

"Hmm... you're right," she said, "but I don't see anyone else out here. Do you?"

"No... let's check him out, but keep on your toes," Connor said.

As they approached, something felt increasingly wrong. Connor fingered the hilt of his rapier and scanned the horizon again.

A few travelers in fine robes talked among themselves, and some armed men strolled off a merchant vessel. Nothing too unusual, but even so, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He stepped aboard the small ship, and a metallic scent filled his nostrils.

He rushed forward and turned the man over.

The hilt of a dagger protruded from the middle of the man's chest, caked in dried blood. The body was already stiff.

Damn. If this was their contact... he'd been dead for hours.

The heavy thumps of footsteps rushed up from below deck.

"It's a trap!" Connor called out as he drew his rapier.

The hatch flew open, and three men clothed in studded leather armor and brandishing rods covered in glowing runes burst out.

The first man through the hatch rushed Connor and swung his runed rod down toward Connor's head.

Compared to Adelia, their movements were slow, sluggish, and incredibly predictable.

"Pathetic," Connor muttered.

He took a half-step to the right. The runed rod passed through empty air. Connor flicked his rapier. The dwarven steel sliced through the man's throat with ease and blood sprayed from the wound.

Connor spun and kicked the man hard in the chest, sending him flying over the railing even as he choked on his own blood. He landed in the water with a heavy splash.