The sun glinted unpleasantly from the peddlers bronzed tooth. Amira's eyes, until a moment beforehand blank and unfocused sharpened measurably. The fellow before them spread his hands wide in invitation. Behind them came a distant should from the opening in the opposite bank a pair of Janissaries, apparently as many as could be jammed into the small tunnel appeared, mail glinting in the sunlight. The Tagria was a mighty river even when channeled into these canals, and the current had carried them far enough that the shouts of the soldiers were indistinct over those noise of they city. One of the men attempted to duplicate Rhaak's feet but missed the rope and plunged ungracefully into the canal, a serious risk in so much armor. His companion was apparently wise enough not to attempt to duplicate the feet and vanished back into the hole whence he had come.

"A boat," she said in a voice devoid of any emotion, making it neither a statement or a question. The swindler needed no clarification though and launched into speech.

"Yes Yes good mistress," he said struggling to contain a leer. The fabric of her black clothing clung tightly to the curves of her body, leaving little to the imagination. 

"A sturdy skiff that can take you anywhere the water flows even down to the Sea of Radan if that is your pleasure, a fine and sturdy vessel I do assure you good mistress! Why..." he froze in mid speech as Amira plucked a golden coin from seeming thin air and tossed it to the man. For all his slovenly appearance he snatched the drachma from the air with the grace of a hunting cat and bit it suspiciously. He made the coin vanish nearly as neatly as it had appeared.

"A fine down payment gentle lady..."

"It will be sufficient," Amira broke in her voice still impassive and cold. The swindler looked between the two soaking stranger and back at the hole into which the par of Jannisaries had appeared in.

"It seems to me you are in a particular hurry, surely that is worth something to you?" he asked, his voice growing measurably slyer and losing some of its false fellowship. Amira turned with slow deliberation to regard the canal and then turned back.

"You might be right, perhaps I should have my slave disembowel you and we can take the boat without need of any further delay." The threat was all the more terrible for its utter lack of emotional loading. The swindlers eyes darted towards Rhaak but he quickly nodded his head in acquiescence.

"I would not have it said that I hindered one of the faithful in distress," he added hurriedly, bobing his head with increasing enthusiasm. With a quick gesture he led them down the dock to where a small boat with a single sale and a pair of weathered cedar paddle bobbed on a filthy rope. Several wicker eel traps stood by, though they looked long unused. Without comment or delay Amira stepped into the rear of the boat and sat, cross-legged and dripping, on the low bench. Rhaak steeped in and seized the oars, severing the rope with a powerful jerk of his arms. With a shove they were out into the canal and heading towards the broad date lined expanse of the Tagria.  

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