By the Dark of the Moon [ Open ]

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They waited for moon-dark to make their next drop, moving it to an inlet just north of the channel that led to Twinport. A load of Artonese spices, liquors and lace might seem an odd cargo, yet they were valuable items that sold for princely sums and lined their pockets in silver. Gold was too obvious, too easily remembered. Give a pirate silver every time - no one batted a lash at silver as the kingdom's most common manner of courtesy - and he was happy. It passed hands with such a lovely ring too.

Waiting for the appointed night on which the moon was darkest, the men in the cove watched for the dark lantern that would serve as signal from the ship at anchor in the bay. It wasn't a large cargo this time, but plenty rich enough, that was for certain sure. There was five men, and the cargo would net them a pretty silver penny from His Lordship once it was in his hands. If he wanted to deal in gold, no one would look at him twice. Noblemen, it was whispered, thought in terms of gold.

Finally, the lantern flashed once, twice, three times. Keeping silent, the five hoisted the boat and carried it over the loam to lower it to the water's surface. Four climbed in and took seats on the rowing benches as their leader, a brute of a man, gave the boat a shove into the water to send them on their way before leaping into the boat. He kept watch on the shore and on the water for any signs that this might be a trap; rumors that the King's men were in the area were rampant lately. The last thing they wanted was to be detained with contraband on their backs.

The boat moved quietly and cleanly through the still waters of the bay, reaching the dark side of the ship as instructed. Ropes were tossed up as the men on board eased the crates over the side slowly and using little light to avoid further detection. The work progressed slowly, almost agonizingly slow, but no chances were taken. If there was any suggestion of a watcher, all activity halted until the coast was clear again, literally and figuratively.

Finally the boat, considerably heavier in the return than in its departure, scraped onto the shore as the men leaped out to drag it further onto the sands. The smallest and lightest of these climbed onto the shingle to scout for any sign of the Lord's men, or worse, the King's guard. Finding no one, the cargo was hastily unloaded and carried to a waiting wagon concealed off to one side of the shingle. A few words exchanged between the men saw them beach the boat in one of the caves, tipped over to prevent it from floating away during a high tide before two climbed up onto the wagon seat, a third onto the bed of the wagon to weight down the tarp concealing the contents while the remainder took to saddle.

By tacit agreement, no words were exchanged as all set into motion. The Lord was waiting with their money, a good night's work done by dark of the moon.