Bandits

Chapter 7: Opportunity

"Now take your right hand, cross it under the hitch and then...Gideon! What's gotten to you boy? Can't remember a simple halyard?" Naman tossed aside the piece of rope he'd been contorting into one of the hundreds of varieties of knots he had crammed into his memory. Reaching across him, Naman guided Gideon's hands through the complex series of loops and crosses, muttering a plethora of curses. "I swear lad, if I weren't watchin' over your shoulder every time you tied a knot we'd have fallen from the bloody sky!"

"You haven't said nary a word since the watch began," said Gerard, turning to look at Gideon. He stood near the edge of the crow's nest, nearly two hundred feet above the deck of the Wraith. He leaned against the railing, his signature coat catching the stiff breeze. "You're not still festering about that spat last night, are you? I hardly meant it. Even if it was true," he added under his breath as he returned his gaze to the open sky.

"No," Gideon said. By now his mind was exhausted. He'd been puzzling over what to do about Vane and his threats, and wrestling with whether or not he should risk telling Naman and Gerard. "I'm just tired is all."

"Tired? You're a sleeping troll! You get more sleep than the dead," Naman laughed. He finished the knot and then untied it to begin again.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't a troll last night. I'm tired. Quit hassling me about it. Don't you have a sky to watch?"

Gerard turned an irritated glance toward Gideon. Naman intervened before Gerard could reply and turn the heat into a fire. "Hey now, no call to get testy. Sorry you didn't get your beauty sleep in, princess." Naman motioned for Gerard to turn back to the watch. Gerard grudgingly complied. "Here," Naman said, then handed Gideon the piece of rope. "Try it again. See if you can tie a rat-tail that won't cause the entire ship to crack to pieces."

Gideon decided to ease the situation and try the knot. There was nothing more he could do for now. Even after two hours of thinking through all his options, Gideon was no closer to knowing what to do; wasting more time worrying certainly wouldn't help.

The rough hemp moved fluidly in Gideon's skillful hands. Thick, scarred calluses evidenced his years of working on the ship. With an expertise gained only through countless repetitions, Gideon produced a perfect rat-tail stopper. He casually tossed it over to Naman.

"Hah, where was that a minute ago?" Naman examined the knot, holding it close to his face and glancing at it from all angles. Satisfied, he stuffed it into a rucksack where he kept random odds and ends: bits of rope, a raven's skull, the broken hilt of a dagger, a shriveled orange, and half of a boot buckle to name just a few.

"Why do you keep luggin' around that sack of garbage?" asked Gerard, glancing back at Naman.

"Garbage?" Naman acted offended...at least, Gideon thought it was acting. "These little trinkets have come in handy more times than you know."

"Oh yeah," Gerard scoffed. "I'm sure the occasional wine cork has saved your life many times."

"Look here, you fish-monger, you got your silly cape, I got my collection." Naman had crossed a line. Gerard loved his cloaks more than a horse loved apples. Gerard's fists clenched and Gideon saw his body tense up. Turning slowly, he glared at Naman. Unfazed, Naman pressed on. "You got a problem with that take it up with my boot."

Gideon had seen Naman and Gerard go at each other enough times to know that this wasn't going to end well. Last time they got into a fight two chairs and a table were so badly broken they had to be thrown overboard. Gerard had a black eye for a month, and it took a week for Naman's lips to swell down. Gideon didn't want to be anywhere near them when the fighting started, so he quietly made his way over to the ratlines.