Eira Port, the harbor.
The late night sea breeze was refreshing but not biting. Compared to inland, the night's climate here was much more pleasant.
Of course, daytime remained unbearably hot and humid.
Losa stood atop a tower near the port, which had been converted into a tax officer's office, Mueller's headquarters.
Inside and outside the office, nearly a hundred members of the Varangian Guard were fully armed, leaning against the walls or simply sitting on the ground, resting quietly.
Mueller gazed at the empty and calm sea: "Sir, will there truly be a night raid on the port?"
"Tonight's moonlight is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Ah?" Mueller was slightly startled and quickly replied, "Yes, sir. These days, the moon is at its fullest, truly beautiful."
"Rauf is not very clever, though he thinks he is smart."
Losa said softly, "Therefore, he will surely send people to raid Eira Port tonight—otherwise, wouldn't such a full moon be wasted?"
