Bandits

Chapter 12: TBD

It was nearly midnight. Gideon sat on the railing near the starboard bow, his legs dangling over the side. The sky above was deep blue, gradually growing more and more vibrant toward the fiery horizon. The suns were just out of sight, their golden light still seeping into the late-night sky. Thousands of stars surrounded the Wraith. Gideon focused on an icy blue star almost at eye level. He watched its light wax and wane as it burned in the heavens.

It had been almost two weeks since they hadcaptured the Opportunity. The massive ship floated in the sky behind theWraith. Six rope cables as thick as a man's thigh bound the bandit ship toher plunder. Basic repairs on both shipshad already been made, patching the hull and re-rigging the masts, and work hadcontinued night and day since, though the fallen mast and splintered undermastof the Opportunity were repairs thathad to be left until they made port. Still, the distant sound of hammers, saws, and working men fixing whatthey could carried through the air to Gideon. 

The plan with what to do with the ship and crew wasn't entirely clear yet; a ship of that size could fetch a hefty price. Or it could be re-rigged into a proper warship. As for the crew, minds had to be made up sooner rather than later, the Middar Pass was less than a week away. Middar had a market that rivaled Solicito's in size and prices, despite trading in only a very few specific brands of merchandise; a better price on a healthy slave couldn't be found anywhere else on this side of Palateo. If Daedalus didn't get rid of them by then, they would be on their way to Solicito with their captors. But Gideon didn't worry himself with the fate of the Opportunity, not that he had a real say in the matter anyhow. For now all he cared about was the night air.

The wind was soft and cool. It enveloped Gideon, shifting around him, pulling gently at him as it flowed through his hair and over his skin. The slight sound of creaking ropes and shifting sails emanated from the ship. Its ever present, ever shifting tune almost gave the ship life. It was as if the ship were a living, breathing entity. Gideon felt a connection with the Wraith. Its creaks spoke to him, telling him the tales of decades on the open sky; of storms and battles, exotic ports and distant memories.

Gideon ran his hand along the railing, feeling the smooth wood and identifying the individual knots and grains, like the words of a storybook, speaking to him. His fingertips memorized their pattern. The Wraith was more than a ship; it was a piece of Regius that was unique and irreplaceable. It was an embodiment of the freedom of the sky and the restless, bold nature of Regius' people, and it was his home.

Gideon heard quiet footsteps on the deck behind him.

"You have a magnificent ship."

Mordecai walked to the railing, leaning forward, looking at the sky. In the two weeks since the battle, Gideon had hardly had a chance to speak to the young lord. He was as much a stranger now as he was the day their swords had clashed. He smiled briefly at Gideon. When Gideon didn't return the gesture, Mordecai looked back to the sky.

Princess Andromeda quietly followed Mordecai. She reached up to a ratline, holding onto it as she added her gaze to Mordecai's and Gideon's. Her beauty was undiminished by the plain clothes she wore. Her hair was a dark gold, with streaks of brown framing her face with its waves. Despite Daedalus' insisting she disguise herself as another servant, her face seemed etched in regal pride.

"Why do you watch the stars?"

Gideon was caught off guard by the question; he didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again, thinking.

"I've seen you," the Princess continued. "You're out here every night staring at the sky. Do you expect to see something? The stars are the same every night. What do you expect to see that's any different from last night?"