Normally, a ship would only have two or three former captives on board, if that - especially if they were likely to be trading with the mainland. The lead boat of this particular Trader fleet, usually, traded mostly with the Southern Isles, it being a particularly fine and fast ship that was well suited to the long journey, but circumstances were different. The long years since the last peace treaty meant trade was long overdue and more ships were needed, the Loosed Arrow - the lead ship in question - had just returned from a trip to the Southern Isles while many other Trader ships had just set off for them, so the Arrow was called up despite the six former Mainlanders aboard her.
Below decks, the mood was awkward and uncomfortable. Despite all knowing the rules it was still stifling to be confined, away from the action and so temptingly close to their former home. Though a couple of them had previously served on other ships that traded with the mainland, they were so used to trading with the Southern Isles that they were accustomed to having full run of the ship. The archer, particularly, was pacing uncomfortably, tail flicking in irritation. As a race, the archers were used to being up high, to having the long view, it was a common trait for them to suffer from claustrophobia, particularly when one is used to the giddy heights of a crows nest and the views of a distant horizon.
"Leo, sit down," the old soldier commanded gruffly "or climb the rafters if you must, your pacing's making me dizzy."
"This hold is making me dizzy," Leo retorted, but he did as the old man asked, scrambling up the central beam and clinging to the top of it, monkey-like.
((slow day))
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