him. Had Ilsa ever smiled at him like that? He didn’t think so.
“Well then, Commander Holden, let’s find you your crew.”
It was only later, when they’d found five more crew as easy as spitting, thanks to Tallia, that he realized he’d not told her his name.
* * *
Rillen shifted in the doorway and frowned at the ship he was watching. Van Gast’s ship, or so his father and the mages said. The Lone Queen. Odd sort of name for a man like Van Gast to give his ship.
A dozen of Rillen’s men were dotted round the jetty and along the wharf, watching who came off or went on, hoping to see Van Gast. It was a fool’s hope. Van Gast was smart, fast, good at changing his appearance, and legendary in getting away from whoever wanted to catch him, usually at the last possible moment. Rillen despaired of finding him in these crowds, despite the sketchy picture he’d been given.
At least four of the crew—damn, half a hundred racks in the city he’d seen—could have been Van Gast, except…except Rillen had heard many rumors about Van Gast. Among the favorites was the man’s panache, a way of walking, of holding himself that made him stand out when he wanted to, when he wasn’t trying to be someone else. None of these men had that. Maybe Van Gast was hiding it, or maybe he just wasn’t here. No sign of Haban’s niece yet either, the little witch.
Rillen shifted again as a breeze came his way, moved so it would cool his face and neck. He shouldn’t be doing this—he was a captain in the palace guard, a son of the council, and this was a job for his men, not him. Or would be if the mages hadn’t insisted. He’d thought about disobeying, of sending his men and waiting at the palace, but only briefly. There was something about the mages, their eyes shadowed by crystals, their clammy skin where much of their magic had broken away in the Freeing. Their willing puppet slaves, all dead-eyed and blank. It was enough to give any free man the creeps, and incidentally enough to make sure Rillen did as they told him, for now at least.
He had plans though, oh yes, plans always turning about in his head, waiting for their time.
Two more racks came down the Queen’s gangplank. Not Van Gast, Rillen was fairly sure. One was too old—Van Gast was about Rillen’s own age of twenty five, though no one knew for sure, probably not even Van Gast. Racketeers didn’t go in for record-keeping as a rule. The other was too slender, too hunched and timid looking, unless Van Gast’s way with disguises was holding up well.
A boy came onto the wharf, trying to be surreptitious but far too obvious for Rillen’s liking. A message, no doubt. He wondered what barbed words of faint praise his father had sent and, tried to make his way unobtrusively to the boy. He wasn’t sure he managed it—despite the heat that kept many of the shops shut till dusk, the jetty was full of racks, and though he and his men had tried to dress the part, he was fairly sure they just looked like all the wished-they-weres, those who tried to join their ranks and failed. There were plenty of those about—merchants’ sons rebelling against a life of order or maybe just trying to talk women into bed, women who failed to see the attraction of marriage or seamstressing or whoring and wanted a more exhilarating challenge. They were all too obvious, even to Rillen. The racks ignored them to their faces and laughed behind their backs. You didn’t become a rack by wishing it or dressing in all the bright colors you could find and hoping. You just were, or not.
The boy spotted Rillen and wove through the crowd. A slip of paper made its way into Rillen’s hand and the boy disappeared. Rillen found a quiet corner and opened the message. From Haban’s niece. Good girl. The message was short and to the point—Lone Queen no longer Van Gast’s ship. Have made Van Gast’s crew. More to follow.
I’ve stood on this roasting jetty all morning, and now you tell me it’s the wrong sodding ship?
Yet the annoyance was short-lived, followed by a tight smile. The girl had made Van Gast’s crew, so the right ship would be forthcoming. He wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve, gathered his men