Wayne, who was tending the stove in the cabin, jumped when he saw York. "Y-you really came?"
York froze. "What do you mean?"
As he spoke, he touched the money pouch hidden at his waist and immediately felt more confident.
Five Silver Suo a week was indeed a very generous salary, but who knew how long this lord would live? In a few days, the "lord" living in the mountains would come to collect taxes. How could a lord all alone possibly stand against those people?
He would probably only get one week's pay. If he did not leave, the money in this pouch would only benefit the "lord" in the mountains.
Still, York could understand Wayne's surprise. But what did Wayne mean? Wayne glanced toward the passenger cabin, then smiled. "Sorry, my ship won't depart until the day after tomorrow."
York shook the dagger in his hand. "Then don't blame me for being impolite."
Wayne picked up the fire poker. "Others may fear you, but I don't."
York found it strange. Why was Wayne acting so tough tonight?
Just as he was about to rush forward and teach Wayne a lesson, the door to the passenger cabin opened. Hobart, wearing a cloak popular among Fenebote nobles, stepped out one pace at a time. "Butler York, where are you taking all these public funds so late at night?"
Shier perceptively brought over a chair for Hobart.
As York watched Hobart sit on the chair without any hurry, an invisible pressure forced him to take several steps back.
But the money pouch at his waist gave him fresh courage. He sneered, "My uncle used to be a guard at a viscount's residence. I learned how to fight from him. The three of you are no match for me..."
Wayne and Shier