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smiled; now this was much more like it. Those thieves, whoever they were, would indeed wish they had never heard the name Bartholomew Bask. He gazed across at the Hawk and shivered. He detected something exceedingly strange about this Hawk person and Bartholomew was grateful that it was to his side that he was now recruited.
    Matheus Hawk had been a sergeant in the King’s Guard - an army known for its brutish, violent behaviour, yet he had been discharged for having too heavy a hand. A big man, Matheus had loved to fight and inflict pain from a young age and had taken to war readily. He was cruel, and took a sadistic pleasure in the pain and suffering of his victims. The army wanted none of this. After receiving a number of complaints from the rest of his company, Matheus was court-martialled and imprisoned; but no prison could hold him and he escaped. He’d spent several years as a highwayman, robbing coaches and travellers, until one day he chanced upon a coach carrying two wizards.
    The wizards had defended themselves well. Matheus had been badly beaten, and in risk of his life, but a lucky crossbow shot from Matheus had killed the driver and the frightened horses had run off, taking the coach with them. With nobody driving, the coach had careened off the road and into a ravine. Both horses and one of the wizards had died straight away, yet the other had survived for several weeks while Matheus tortured him until he gave up the secrets to his spells. The wizard had eventually died and Matheus had used his new-found skills to act as a bounty hunter and tracker. He’d made a name for himself, not only with the people, but also with the King’s Guard. They now saw him as someone to arrest upon sight for continued acts of terrible violence. Matheus Hawk was not a pleasant man, but he was the best tracker in the entire kingdom, and Bartholomew always wanted the best.
    Bartholomew handed the few pieces of evidence over to the Hawk and wished him well with his endeavours. ‘How shall I contact you?’ he enquired.
    ‘You shan’t,’ growled the Hawk, sliding back into the shadows once more. ‘If I want you or have news, then I shall contact you. Now leave me to my work.’
    Bartholomew wiped his face and stood up. He wasn’t used to taking orders, especially from someone in his employ, but thought better of mentioning anything to Mr Hawk on this first meeting; maybe next time, when they knew each other a little better.
    He hurried back through the crowded bar and out into the night, confident that he had done what he could and that the matter was now in capable hands.
    Outside on the slightly cooler street, Bartholomew thought again of the hands that the Hawk had crossed in front of him on the table. Long and thin with sharp nails like…like talons…like a Hawk for goodness sake! Bartholomew shivered in the warm evening air, then waved as he saw a carriage that was empty. I almost pity the thieves; he chuckled to himself as he clambered in and settled back into the carriage seat, but then again…maybe I don’t. He was giggling as the carriage set off, back up to the ‘better part’ of town.
    ****
    The barge left on time with Loras on deck waving back to Pardigan. Much to his dismay, the cat hadn’t wanted to go with Loras, preferring to stay on The Griffin with the knife and book. Pardigan returned the wave as the barge left the harbour, slowly creeping out into the open sea.
    Quint had gone off to purchase a few more supplies and to try and find out what the word on the street was about the robbery. If the watch were tracking the thief, they had to find out where they were searching and what they had to go on. Pardigan took a last look around at the other boats and the few people walking on the jetty, then made his way down below. At the bottom of the ladder, he peered around the gloom of the hold waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. The book was on the table and the cat was curled up not far from it