The Cap'n looked tired, and Wheel regretted how flippant he'd been earlier. The big man didn't know Bariz, didn't know how they operated. Wheel knew. He was so fucking frustrated though. He and the curse had been so excited, so ready. He had blue balls from the massacre. The Cap'n and the rest wouldn't understand. Couldn't know the need. He'd focus and help find the slavers. He'd get what he needed then.

"If they're Barizians, they'll be traveling in a group with other galleys. When they make raids like this, they clear almost everything out to make space for the slaves. There's not going to be a lot of supplies on board, so it's likely that there's a place for the ship to drop the slaves and resupply." Wheel walked next to the Captain, smoke drifting behind them as they left the ruined town. "When we passed them the night before, they was prolly getting back."  The two men walked in silence after that, and though nothing was said, they both walked faster than they had before.

---

As Hana read, awareness would come upon her, and she'd notice the grubby boy in the corner watching her, the scratched wooden floors, and the smell of rotting seaweed and sea water that filled the room. The book in her hand would remind her of it's weight, and her eyes would water as she strained to make out the words. She didn't stop from reading, however, carefully pronouncing the words on the page. She would reflect momentarily on the meanings of the book, appreciating the deftly written prose. But such insights faded and the comforting tumble of syllables continued. After a time, Rio began asking her questions, and as she answered each, the numbness faded, leaving an emptiness inside her. Still, she didn't realize the Captain had returned until the door opened and Rio fled into his arms. She watched silently as Berlin comforted the blonde boy. Hana could sense the melancholy behind his words. She'd do as he asked, and give him time. 

"Come, Rio, Bithdo is now outside the mendicants cottage, you'll like this next part."

---

Pieter had just finished squeezing a wedge of lime into the rum as Berlin walked heavily to him. They were at the prow, and both Wheel and Uban knew to busy themselves elsewhere on the ship, giving the two privacy. The old sailor handed the captain his mug, and took a swig from his own. There was a slight breeze that pulled at Pieter's linen shirt, and he was grateful for the pleasant warmth the rum left. 

Fixing Berlin with a steady look, he asked, "The boy?"