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“You go on now, boy. Try the Gallinule, heard a day or so back they’re short of deckhands.” The old man flicked his hand toward the long row of ships.
“Thanks.”
Silas spoke to many other people on many different boats, they all said no. Several of them had said about the Gallinule, but he hadn’t come across it yet. Maybe I missed it. Typical. If only I hadn’t been too hungover to travel yesterday, I could have been on my way across the sea.
Two drunk men stumbled along, holding each other up in slurred conversation. Silas’s first thought when he saw them was of judgement, but quickly realised they were in the same state he’d been in for god knows how many days now. It made him want a drink. Not a care in the world. The simple life. He looked at the ships. Not like trying to find honest work. He let out a long sigh. A couple more ships, then I’ll find a room for the night.
Two more rejections, and he found it. Gallinule was painted on the side of the ship in white paint, and they’d made a terrible job of it. Which fit in nicely with the rest of the ship, old and falling apart, with rotten timbers and frayed ropes. The sails were rolled up, but no doubt, full of holes.
A man in dirty rags lay on the gangplank, legs and arms dangled over its sides. As Silas approached, he heard the man’s snores. He looked along the row of ships, all better looking than the Gallinule. Maybe I’ll try some of them again tomorrow? See if I can change their minds.
The man on the gangplank startled awake with a coughing fit. Silas took a step back.
The man spat into the water. “Looking for work?”
Didn’t even have to ask. “Uh… yes. For passage. One way.”
The man scratched at his beard, then stretched his arms out to the side and arched his back. “One way? Running away from something? Not in the habit of taking on criminals.” The man smiled, showing two rows of golden teeth.
“Looking for change.”
“Right you are.” The man winked. “You don’t look like you’ve been to sea.”
“Heard that a lot today. What makes you say that?”
“Your skin ain’t dark enough or rough enough.”
Is that a good or a bad thing? “Well… I haven’t.”
“Don’t matter none. I’m waiting on a job, should hear in the next day or two. If I gets it, it’ll take you plenty far enough. Small crew. You come back the day after next, and we’ll make a deal.” The man struggled to his feet and offered out his hand. “Captain Glendor, of the Gallinule.”
Silas shook the captain’s hand. “Barda.”
The captain winked again. “Course it is.” He patted Silas on the shoulder and wandered off along the dock, barefoot.
With any luck, I’ll find another in the meantime.
Captain Glendor’s swagger made Silas’s mouth water with the thought of ale. Time to find that bed.
Mara stood in the corner of the dusty room. A naked man with a bag on his head was tied to a chair in the middle. The door opened, and Favian returned, pulling a table that screeched along the floor. Favian put the table in front of the naked man, sat on it, placed his boots on the man’s legs, then leant forward and pulled off the bag.
The man had bruises under both eyes and dried blood around his nose and chin.
Favian coughed, like he always did, then spat on the floor between the man’s feet. “So. Easy way, or the hard way? I have to ask, to be polite, you know?”
The man said nothing and looked over at Mara. There was no fear in the man’s eyes. You should be scared.
“Over here.” Favian gently turned the man’s head back to him by the chin. “That little cunt ain’t gonna help you. He’s here to learn. He can learn on the next one if you like, that’s up to you. You just gotta tell me where you brought the Mist from, that’s all. Easy.”
Mara recognised the man now, from the ship.
“You bring a child into this business?” the man said in a strange accent.
Favian let out a long sigh, then spat on the floor again. “Always the same. Why do you people think nothing will happen to you if you act all hard? It makes it worse.” He leant forward and knocked on the captain’s head like he was knocking on a door. “Understand? Anyone in there?” He slid off the table and turned to face Mara. “You’ll get this a lot, I’m afraid to say. They always talk. Just like to play silly buggers first.”
Mara stared at the man, who looked down at the floor. Just tell him. Maybe he’ll let you go.
Favian lit a roll-up with a match, then held it up to the man’s lips for him to smoke. “Care for a smoke, captain? See, we can be friends. No need for hostility.”
