Valerius and his men arrived at the tent where the captives were held only to find a legionaire laying dead and his weapons gone. For a brief moment, he was torn between pursuing the escaped prisoners and joining in the fighting he could hear at the wall.

"Probex! See if you can pick up their trail."

Probex snorted, grabbing a torch and bending close to the ground. Slowly, they moved out, following the dim trail.

"'Ere, the trail ends 'ere," Probex stated, reaching the water's edge. Valerius cursed as he realized the escapees had taken to the water. Now it would be up to their naval forces to find them. If it wasn't already too late. Valerius did not relish the thought of telling the Dux that the prisoners had gotten away. He didn't know the man well, but he had heard stories - and he did not like what he had heard.

Finding the commander of the small naval contingent, Valerius ordered him, in the name of the Dux, to put to sea immediately and try to find the fugitives.

Grumbling about the foolishness of trying to find anyone on the water at night, the commander never-the-less gave the orders. An hour later, the ships slowly made their way up the firth, stretching across the waters, looking for signs of the fleeing prisoners. As they silently glided into the night, the moon started to rise, casting her pale light on the rippling seas.