Private Tales Something's Coming

[Praxidike]

They didn't have a house. Not really. But when the warehouse near the docks wasn't full, Old Nico left the side door unlatched for them. The sturdy wooden shelves made for decent bunks and the warehouse was surprisingly warm for being so close to the sea. Old Nico lived up the hill, a stone's throw if you had a good arm and the wind was right. He was the wizened old harbormaster for Theros and luckily for Praxidike and Phrixus, he had chosen to be amused rather than offended when the pair of them had been sent to shake him down for protection money when they were nothing but scrawny teens with dull knives.

He had given them the protection money, knowing full well that they would be tossed out of their gang if they didn't bring the small pouch of coins, and knowing that there would always be someone to collect protection in Theros. The motherless twins, Old Nico thought, seemed to have the pluck to do it well once they came into their own. And he'd given them bread and some leftover mutton and a place to rest their heads when they needed it.

It had been good to have young people around. There hadn't been any since Young Nico - well, Old Nico didn't like to talk about it.

Praxidike - Praxidike of Theros during the city census, but otherwise just Praxidike - lumbered down the stairs from Old Nico's house. She had just finished a delivery on the old man's behalf and returned to him to let him know. He had rewarded her with a clay pot of some kind of stew and a skin of wine. Dike was tired enough that she wasn't sure she could bring herself to eat. Her day had started before the sun, hauling a load of repaired blades for the company from the blacksmith to the makeshift armory - really, a disused outhouse in the outskirts of the city, and then ran a delivery of wolf pelts to the tanner the next hamlet over before hurrying back to Theros for a meeting with a potential client and Phrixus.

The afternoon had been a blur. Lots of gold had changed hands.

Not enough of it had stayed in her own.

She pushed the door to the warehouse and stepped inside. In the back corner of the warehouse, a soft glow lit the walls and the ceiling. Praxidike moved through the labyrinth of shelves and crates before entering the small, warm huddle where she thought she'd find Phrixus. "Food," she announced, setting the pot on a nearby crate with the wineskin. "And wine."

She sat down on the edge of a shelf and kicked off a boot before deciding that to kick off the other would be too much effort for that moment, and leaning against the support frame of the cargo shelf, using her braid as a lumpy cushion. She swore she had closed her eyes for only a moment, but was jerked away when a high pitched voice called: "Phrix! Dike! Are you here?" Prax stood, drawing her sword before she could process what she heard. It was just Cyril; the nine-year-old boy, all limbs and wild hair, bounded around the corner with excitement shining in his blue eyes. "There you are!" he shouted. "Come quick! There's a ship sail on the western beach, by the cove!"

Praxidike blinked her bleary eyes. "At this hour?" she asked, squinting at Cyril. "Where's Phrix?"

"Haven't seen him, have I?" Cyril said. "A ship! in the dark! By the cove," he insisted. "You know what that means!"

Pirates, Praxidike thought. Trying to offload illicit goods. "It means an opportunity. Go find Phrix. Round up as many of our boys as you can and I'll meet you outside the western gate." She stood and worked her foot into her discarded boot. "Go, Cyril!"

 

[Phrixus]

The sounds of an open-air market echoed in the boy's ears, wide eyes taking in the bustle from his perch along a second-story rooftop near the edge of the enlarged common area. Crouched there, young Phrixus had a pigeon's eye view of every merchant, trader, and otherwise who happened upon Theros' central marketplace. Vendors and their carts filled the space, spilling into the wider roads through the city. The corner of the boy's lips rose as he caught sight of a particularly familiar face weaving through the crowds below - none other than his twin sister, Praxidike. It took the boy only a moment to track her movements and identify her quarry.

An elderly man, hunched beneath the weight of a large pack. A small mule in tow. It was the perfect mark. With age a man's senses began to dwindle, the weight of the large pack applied physical strain and distraction. The mule's packs would be easy to rifle through in the crowd. As if to affirm the boy's thoughts a subtle growl from his stomach drew his eyes downward as thoughts of meat pies and baked goods filled his mind's eye. It was a flicker of movement at the outer edge of his vision that drew him back to reality, an orange cloak flashing between the moving throngs. Then again, to his left. Another orange cloak. What had been stirrings of hunger was replaced by a sickening sensation as his mouth began to water. Unease gripped at the boy's chest. They had been made.

Had they been too obvious? Had they been followed? Watched? It didn't matter now, the cloaks had begun to close in on Praxidike, oblivious to their new peril. Rising from his crouch, the boy Phrixus brought his hands to his mouth to issue a cupped shout - before he could, a vicelike grip seized his ankle, another wrapping around his open mouth like a leviathan grasping at a trireme. Nothing more than a muffled gasp escaped his lips as he fought to get free of the stranger's grip...

-​

"Lmmfh... Lethghm... LET GO OF ME!"

A sharp intake of breath awoke the Therosian, eyes fluttering as his fingers gripped the hilt of his short sword. It only took him a second to recognize the grubby and mildly shocked expression on the face before him as none other than Cyril. "What are you doing here?" a confused expression gripped Phrix's brow as he waited for a response. "Praxidike told me to find you, there's something happening! A boat!" The boy spoke so quickly it took Phrixus' still waking mind a moment to process what the boy had said. "A boat?" he asked, rousing from where he lay. "That's what I said!" Cyril replied indignantly. "There's a ship down by the cove, on the beach! Dike told me to find you, she's getting the men!" Every word had a near squeak at the end, the boy's excitement evident. "She's going now, you'd better hurry!" Cyril chirped, darting out of the small barn he'd found Phrix napping inside. Grumbling, Phrixus dusted himself off, quickly securing his short blade in its scabbard before heading off.

He knew the approach to the cove, if it was the cove he was thinking of. In fact, had they a boat between them, Praxidike and he might have even used it as their own private port. Apparently someone had beat them to the punch. As his footsteps led him closer, it took little conjecture on his part to ascertain the most likely place to find his sister. Working as closely together as they had, he knew her tendencies when it came to scouting a mark, what sorts of places she liked to hide, how she liked to stalk a target. Phrixus knew they had to move fast. As he drew closer to the cove Phrix's pace slowed, eyes searching and ears straining to hear and see what the boy had professed. Settling near a large rock, Phrix peered over the edge of the hill. What he saw below brought a sneaky smile to his face. Just as the boy Cyril had said. There was a ship in the cove, complete with men unloading crates, boxes, and even amphorae. At a glance he couldn't tell where the ship had come from, no markings of origin easily visible. The man could feel his heart beating as adrenaline began to seep into his system - there was nothing to do however until Praxidike showed up. It wouldn't be long.

 

[Praxidike]

Feet falling lightly on the long grass, Praxidike had to be careful to avoid slipping on the dewy blades. She had a small contingent of men with her - three from the company's best stealth team and two heavies. The young woman held out an arm to slow the party as they reached a bluff overlooking the cove. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scene. It looked like a small ship and crew. Some were offloading cargo crates and barrels, while a smaller team was taking the sail down. "Dike," one of the men muttered. She half-turned and saw him pointing into the distance, towards the sea.

"Oh," she murmured under her breath. Perhaps not a small crew. Definitely not a small ship. She could see several lanterns suspended over sea level - shielded, which is why she hadn't spotted it in the first place - roughly twenty meters apart. Bow to stern, she thought. The longer she looked, even in a more or less pitch-dark sky, the clearer the shape of a ship appeared. Its sails were dark and trimmed, its deck dark enough to blend into the night.

"Pirates," she whispered.

"Pirates," one of the men agreed.

The mercenary woman glanced back at the two heavies. "Stay here until we give the high sign. You three, with me." The small group picked its way across the ridge towards where she knew Phrixus would be waiting. They rendezvoused, the three other men hanging back to give Dike and Phrix a chance to discuss the situation. "Cyril was right. Looks like pirates," she said in a low voice. She brushed her hair from her face and looked into his face, her eyes locking with his like looking into a looking glass. "You know the rules. Any cargo coming onto Theros pays." In the darkness, her skin was pale. The pirates wouldn't be giving up without a fight. They were going to have to hurt some people if they planned to profit off the goods. Her hand instincitvely went to her belt, felt for the pommel of her short sword.

"I'd like to do it quietly if we can," she said. "Separate them. Knock them out instead of killing them. Avoid them calling for help from their ship - by the way, did you see their ship?" She pointed into the distance. "This looks like a shore party to hide their loot. We could probably take them. But them and their friends on the ship?" Her voice was skeptical, her thick brows furrowing. "But I defer to you." She brushed her plait over one shoulder and looked at her brother. "So what's the plan?" she asked, shifting from one knee to the other.

 

[Phrixus]

"Hmmm." he voiced gently in response to his sister's hushed tones. "Pirates indeed." Raising his own arm slightly, he extended a finger towards the beach and one of the small oar boats. There at the bow of one rest two figures. At a glance it appeared they were merely observing the offload of cargo but upon a closer inspection, chains could be seen securing the two. Turning back towards his sister, Phrix met her gaze with his own. *Definitely pirates.*

"I agree." Phrix responded. Were it a smaller group Phrix liked to think they could have taken them face forward but the twins hadn't survived life this long by being careless. As his sister offered insight, Phrixus had surveyed the landscape. Killing people, even pirates, was a messy business in Theros not to mention the attention it would draw. Unwanted attention. "How many men do we have to work with?" Phrix asked, the shape of a plan beginning to form. "If we draw closer, perhaps we can determine what their plan was. With slaves in tow, I doubt they were to return tonight. If we could waylay them and return in their stead we might just be able to catch them by surprise."

A shimmer of greed glinted in the evening's dim moonlight. What had been merely a dream suddenly seemed to have been placed before them. Their own ship. If they could pull this off, not only would they see their coin purses filled but perhaps also come out with a vessel of their own. Such an occurrence would see their position rise, ensure their bellies were filled, and propel their budding careers forward like a bolt from a ballista. If they could see it through.

 

[Praxidike]

Praxidike stroked her jaw casually as she observed the men shuffling around on the beach below them. "Now that you mention it," she said slowly, "It looks like they're mostly slaves." She scanned the groups, straining her tired eyes to pick out the details she could. True enough, most of the figures she could see were shuffling, stilted movements restricted by chains. She heard the echo of a shouted command off the stone canyon of the cove, the tone clear while the words were muffled.

"I count eight," said Prax finally, then proceeded to point them out. "Two there, at the entrance to that cave on the right. Two there helping offload the cargo from that boat in the middle - another one near them wrapping up the oars. Three by the fire on the right - looks like cooking. Am I missing any?" The young mercenary frowned gravely, trying to formulate a plan of attack that would get them close enough to strike non-lethally without getting herself and her brother and friends killed... but the presence of slaves made Prax slightly less concerned with the idea of needing to kill these men. How one man could enslave another - it boiled her blood, frankly. Her life had been difficult and she had gone to be hungry more often than not, but at least she had been free.

It was heartbreaking.

Still, if they could avoid killing people, then that was one less thing for Praxidike to feel guilty about.

"We've got three men from our scouting group and two heavies. I figured we'd need someone to help carry the loot," she said with a nervous half-smirk. "Maybe one of them can cause a disturbance and distract some of them, so we can take one or two out while they're not looking. Put on their cloaks and we can get close to some others. What do you think?"

She turned back to her brother and raised her eyebrows.

 

[Phrixus]

Phrix followed his sister's indication with his eyes, noting their positions. The ones that interested him the most were the two by the cave. They were isolated enough that should they move swiftly enough and quietly enough, they might be able to nearly double their chances of making it out without a scratch. "Your eyes are as good as ever," Phrix smiled. His sister was on to something. He'd never admit it but Phrixus had always known she was the more clever of the pair. "What about those two? By the cave." He shrugged. They were a good a target as any - isolated, shrouded by shadow, and a convenient place to stash the unconscious bodies within whispering distance.

Though his sister might have been the cleverer of the two, Phrixus knew they'd agree when it came to the canvas laid before them. Silently catching her stare, the man indicated which rout he thought they should take, pointing and sweeping his arm along the hillside. Using a natural ridge as cover they could approach just above and behind the two by the cave. It would offer them the most concealed route to their targets even if it was somewhat circuitous. Motioning towards where their men lay in wait, Phrixus pointed lower on the hillside, a large boulder near the edge of the sand.

"Have the men stage there." he whispered. "Just in case things go south, we'll need to divide their attention. How're your owl sounds?" They'd have to have a signal of some sort, something nocturnal would mask it just long enough to maintain the upper hand should they be discovered.

 

[Praxidike]

Prax frowned thoughtfully and nodded at her brother. "Good idea. We can come down that cliff face above the cave entrance, get them down and drag them into the cave, then we'll figure it out from there. There's enough scrub on the beach that we should be able to dart between if we're not seen." She straightened and stretched, feeling her vertebrae pop with some measure of satisfaction. Praxidike inclined her head towards Phrixus and said: "My owl is fine - I think. I'll go tell the men."

The mercenary ran low along the ridge and spoke to the men she had left behind and briefed them on the signal that would communicate their need to make noise and kill people if things went south for Praxidike and Phrixus.

She reached the cliff-edge again and, after a perfunctory nod to her brother, turned and began to clamber down the cliff face, her expertise in climbing and acrobatics allowing her to spot handholds and footholds on her way down. She hesitated two meters above the entrance to the cave, waiting for Phrixus to take his position. On a silent countdown, marked out by a series of nods from three, she dropped onto the sand behind one of the men and immediately threw an arm around his neck, curling her powerful arm around his throat, squeezing the arteries running up each side of his neck. Her other hand clapped over his mouth to prevent him from raising the alarm.

Some moments later, he collapsed back against her, staggering her. She leaned into it, dragging her prey into the cave and dropping him behind a crate with some difficulty. Praxidike stripped him down and used his own belt to tie his wrists behind his back and tore a piece of cloth from his tunic to gag him. "Phrix," she hissed to her brother as she peered around the corner of the crate she had been working on, trying to see if he had succeeded.

 

[Phrixus]

*Like a cat, ready to pounce* Phrix mused as his sister stretched. As she slunk off into the shadows to inform the men Phrixus gave his surroundings a final once over, quelling the small knot in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't fear, but anticipation. Like the cycles of the sun and moon, the fight he knew to be coming sent waves of energy though his body. His heart beat rapidly against his chest.

On her route back from the men and on to their destination, Phrixus fell into step behind her. Nimbly moving between brush and over loose ground they weaved their way towards the cliff edge. Just below, the two watchers remained oblivious. The more nimble of the two, Phrix watched in awe as she deftly descended. He didn't hesitate but a moment before following - albeit slower. Once in position adjacent to Prax, he counted silently in tune with her, eyes diverting to his target as the last second ticked off in their minds.

In tandem the two leapt from their perch. In tandem the two fell towards their prey. Whereas Praxidike used the sand to cushion and conceal her assault, Phrixus had miscalculated and instead found himself coming down hard upon his targets shoulders. Driving his knees forward as he fell, the man was thrown to the dirt. A tumble of arms and legs stirred as the two fought to untangle themselves. All Phrix could taste was sand, eyes squeezed shut as he fought to gain the upper hand. One instant he was on top, the next he felt his body pressed into the sand - the only grace was that their targets weren't wearing armor. It felt like an hour but only a few seconds later Phrixus had twisted his body free allowing him the upper hand. In another moment, Phrix had gotten an arm around the man's thick neck and squeezed from the side - a few furtive kicks and jerks later and the man had fallen unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Phrix did his best to remain quiet, pausing a moment before dragging the man's body towards the cave opening. Hefting the man's weight behind the same crate his sister had deposited the other watcher, he took one more precaution. A swift wrapping of the man's hands and feet in a short length of cord ensured even if the man were to wake, he'd not be much use in alerting his friends. Looking over he'd seen that Prax had done the same.

"Well, that's a start." he grinned.

 

[Praxidike]

Praxidike's anxiety was instantly soothed when she saw that her brother was carrying a man, not the other way around. Her eyes softened and she shifted out of the way to let him come behind the crate. "Good," she whispered, almost to herself. Her fingers unclenched and she clapped him Phrixus lightly on the back. "No uniforms," she muttered to her brother. "Nothing that makes us blend in, more or less. We'll have to keep to the shadows, and - "

She was interrupted by the sounds of approaching clinking. Metal against metal. The slave bindings. "Fuck," she bit out under her breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She pressed herself to the crate, half-crouched to stay out of sight, and waited. The clinking noise slowed, then stopped, and she could hear the murmur of conversation, though she couldn't hear the words. Then, after a few more moments, the sound resumed and a pair of slaves shuffled into the cave, buddy-carrying a large barrel.

Praxidike held up a hand to Phrixus. Wait here.

She emerged from their hiding spot after the men had shuffled back towards the rear of the cave. The slave facing towards her made an exclamation of surprise and dropped his end of the barrel. The shock caused the barrel to leak around the planks running from top to bottom for a moment. Something dark leaked out. Ink? Praxidike wondered. Wine? Blood?

"Don't worry," Praxidike murmured to the slaves as the other turned to face her, the barrel momentarily forgotten on the sand inside the cave. "I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, I'd like to get you free," she said, gesturing towards their bindings in case they didn't understand. "But you need to stay in here until it's safe. Do you understand?" The two men exchanged glances, then knelt, raising her hands. The chains clinked together ominously. "N-no," Praxidike said quietly. "That's not what I meant."

But they hadn't knelt because of her. They knelt because a large, barrel-chested man was approaching the cave entrance with a torch, and had caught sight of a stranger inside the cave. He drew a weapon and dropped the torch, approaching quietly, his footsteps muffled by the sand. Praxidike was still trying to reason with the slaves when the man entered the cave and raised his sword, ready to kill first and ask questions later.

 

[Phrixus]

The less than subtle clink of chains interrupted the brief respite the pair of shadowed assailants had earned. Prax's exclamation sent a palpitation through the Therosian's heart. Nimbly shifting his weight he took refuge behind one of the large crates, deferring to his sister's extended palm. The arrival of their unexpected visitors complicated things. By all appearances, they were slaves but even slaves proved a threat if they were to alert their taskmasters. At least for now that seemed unlikely.

Praxidike had gone to work, her voice taking on a soothing timbre as she tried to convince the pair that she had no ill intent. For a moment it seemed to work, even kneeling as if to show their gratitude. *Boy was that a misread.* The flicker of firelight behind them towards the entrance to the cave revealed the true reason for their submission. A haughty thump echoed gently against the cave's walls as the torch hit the floor and the sound of steel being drawn rang. Now it was Phrix's turn. "Fuck."

With her back to the man, there was no way Prax would be able to turn in time - Phrix however had somewhat of an advantage. Yet in the shadows, Phrixus dashed forwards and lowered his shoulder. If he could close the distance fast enough he could take the man's curved blade out of the equation. Even so, he was a large man - it didn't matter. There wasn't time to think about this, only act. "Lookout!" he shouted. With a final push, the Therosian launched himself at the armed man and aimed his shoulder for the man's midsection. He hadn't even looked to see if the man wore plate - for his own sake and that of his shoulder, Phrix hoped not.

 

[Praxidike]

Prax turned, but it was too late in any event. The man would have been upon her before she could draw a weapon, even if she had been able to shake herself out of her stunned rooted posture. Eyes wide, all she could do was wait for the boom crunch, her face scrunching up on a pre-emptive wince of pain. She steeled herself, eyes screwing shut tightly -

But it never came. Instead, a fleshy flumping sound came and Praxidike's eyes shot open, drinking in the scene. Her brother had run straight at the man, shouting a warning. The warning had, luckily, served to unbalance the larger man, for he had turned and, not expecting to be set upon by a raging mercenary, been more or less blindsided. He was, in another stroke of good fortune, not clad in anything more impressive then boiled leather. He went sideways, staggering against the cave wall, and let out a gruff cry of surprise. Praxidike launched herself at him, stopping any additional noise by putting her hand over his mouth.

He bit her.

Praxidike grunted a rude suggestion about the nature of his relationship with his mother and recoiled, then delivered a vicious kick to his head with the heel of her boot. In the moment, the rather comical bonk of his head bouncing off the rock was incredibly satisfying, but she instantly regretted it. The point of their approach was to avoid hurting people. Judging from the way the man's head now lolled to one side and blood spurted against the rough wall of the cavern, they had failed at that objective.

Still, he had started it. He bit her.

"Thanks," Praxidike said to Phrixus, reaching down with her non-bleeding hand to help him to his feet. She tore a strip from her tunic and tied it around her palm. It wasn't much, and it stung every time she moved or flexed her hand, but it would have to do for now. "Worth it to try to take the rest down quietly?" she asked her brother, casting a glance back towards the two slaves. They remained prostrate. "Stay here," she barked at them. "And stay quiet. We'll come back when this is over to take those chains off."

Almost as an afterthought, she went about dragging the man across the cavern towards what was shaping up to be a nice pile of bodies behind the crates. An upsetting amount of blood left a trail in the sand, leading Prax to wonder whether she had actually killed the brute who Phrixus had tackled. Too late to do anything about it now, she realized as she kicked sand over the blood trail. Not perfect, but it was what they had.

She turned her attention back to her brother, hands on hips as she listened to his thoughts on their situation.

 

[Phrixus]

The momentum of Phrix's headlong charge carried him bodily into the man, an utterance of his own joining the sounds of their scuffle. Whether it was the loose rock or sand beneath the pirate's feet or the pirate's slow reflexes the contact took them both to ground. The pirate was strong. Phrix struggled to restrain the man while simultaneously attempting to avoid the brandished weapon. In a flash, Prax was there, hand over the man's mouth. A moment later, he felt the violent kick delivered by his sister jolt the man's spine. Rolling off to his side, Phrix did his best to get himself clear of the fracas.

Phrix managed a smirk as he heard Prax's quip. Classic Praxidike. As suddenly as it had begun, the fight ended with a cascade of scarlet on the rock and sand. The man's hair was matted with blood, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. Sitting up from his position on the floor Phrix looked up to see the outstretched hand of his sister. "Thank you.." he uttered, glad for the help up from the rock floor of the cave. Coming to his feet he noticed the blood on her other hand. "You alright?" Bites were nasty things, hard to easily bandage and more importantly they often lead to infection. Phrix had seen it more than once before. Casting a quick glance around the room his expression tightened at his sister's query.

"If that's the worst injury we incur, we'd be better for it." he nodded at her freshly wrapped hand. Assuming the cave hadn't acted like an amplifier and alerted the rest of the pirates, Phrix much preferred the advantage of stealth. It wasn't that he was afraid of the fight, gods no. It was a proven fact that their odds were much increased by a stealthy approach over hack and slash. His sister began to clean up their mess, his own thoughts now cast to what lie outside the cave. "How many left?" They could take stock of their spoils later, what was important now is that they dispatch the rest of the pirates before any could discover their intrusion and escape back to the ship moored off the coast. "If we can get their leader to stand down, perhaps we can avoid any further bloodshed - intentional or not." The injury of the large pirate didn't cause him any trouble, the harsh reality of it was if it hadn't been him it might have been Phrix or Prax who lay bloodied in the sand.

 

[Praxidike]

"Easy for you to say," Praxidike shot back with an exasperated grunt. "You don't have probable rabies colonizing your blood as we speak." She lifted her hand to her mouth, using her fingers and teeth to tug the knot tighter. "Five left," she answered, testing her wounded hand on her dagger's grip. She glanced out the cave entrance and sighed. "The sun will be coming up sooner than I'd like. If we're going to get to the ship unnoticed, we'll have to go through the rest of the men on the beach quickly." She frowned and tossed her dagger back and forth, hand to hand, effortlessly catching the grip each time.

"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Praxidike said. She moved back towards the cave entrance and leaned against the rocky outcropping, looking out onto the beach. "I think we should try to swim to the boat once they're taken care of," she said, nodding towards the beach vaguely. "They won't see us coming, and if we're able to catch their captain unawares we can try to talk some sense into him. If it's a choice between giving up his ship or giving up all the blood in his body, he might be more willing to compromise. But we can cross that bridge when we get to it."

She drew a coin from her belt. "Flip for it? Heads, I go for the three by the fire, tails I go for the two at the boat?"

 

[Phrixus]

Phrixus nodded in agreement, a quiet grunt of approval escaping his lips. His sister's plan was sound, they'd need to move quickly and without interruption if they were to get to the ship moored offshore unnoticed. Another consideration was the water. It was yet cool, the water likely chilled. It was going to slow them down as they swam not to mention its effects on the impending fight ahead. Thankfully, Phrix observed, the ship wasn't that far. The dull shimmer of a coin caught his eye as Prax withdrew the device of fate from a pouch along her belt, a grin stretching across his features. "A fair wager." he quipped, eagerly watching for the flip of the coin.

If necessary, they could always signal the men to overwhelm the beach - though there would be obvious risk of sound carrying across the relatively still night water. It wouldn't do to alert those on the ship of their presence before they arrived. They'd be stuck full of arrows before they laid on hand on her hull.

 

[Praxidike]

The flick of her thumb sent the coin tumbling through the crisp early morning air, glinting in the ambient light. It landed with a vaguely metallic thwip against her palm and she flipped it onto the back of her other hand, then looked at it carefully. "Tails," she informed her brother, holding up the coin so he could see it. "I'll take down those three at the fire. I can't promise that I'll be able to keep them alive, but we'll see. You take the two by the boat. We'll meet by the boat. Yeah?"

When they settled the details, Praxidike set off from the mouth of the cavern, picking her way across the beach towards the left, pausing to scoop up a pair of decent-sized rocks that she could hold in one hand on her way. She paused outside the ring of firelight cast by the cooking fire, crouched behind the ruins of a few old, stacked crates. She paused and peered around the edge of the crates, then hefted one of the rocks before hurling it across the beach; it hit the target she was aiming at, shaking the fronds of a bush opposite the firepit. The conversation between the men stopped, then one of them said: "What was that?"

"Dunno. Go check," said another. The first man grimaced and then stood and went to look. The two other men resumed their conversation. They were sitting on the sand, facing the same way, towards the fire. Prax looked around and realized that she had to get moving, or she wouldn't have time to take care of them all. No, this would get ugly. She drew her dagger and lunged, immediately slicing the throat of the man on the right, then jammed it into his companion's temple.

The man who had gone to investigate the rock she threw finished and turned just as Praxidike came upon him. He grunted in alarm, and Praxidike slashed at him. He threw his arm up, catching the blade and causing blood to spurt from his arm. She launched herself at him before he could make more noise, pressing her injured hand to his mouth as hard as she could as she rid his tumbling body to the ground. Praxidike slammed his head as hard as she could to the ground, fumbling to firm her grip on her dagger. She cut his throat and his struggles ended.

"Fuck," she whispered, looking at her hands in alarm. They were covered in blood. She wiped her dagger and tried to wipe her hands on the tunic of the man she had just killed. Not great, but good enough. She turned and headed back to the fire, kicking sand over it to kill it before running for the boat, tucking her dagger into its sheath. It was time to rendezvous with Phrixus.