Jack of Ravens

13

Veitch made his way across the creaking deck, cursing quietly every time he had to fight against the swell for his balance. The silver moon marked a path across the dark ocean. England’s dismal weather was falling behind; warm days beckoned.

Veitch had thought himself inured to the extremes of human emotion. For a long time he’d been a machine, focusing on the job at hand while keeping his feelings battened down. But seeing Church had brought everything back in one queasy surge, all the pain and the misery, the rage and the relentless urge to kill him. He hated Church even more for making him feel that way.

He made his way to the captain’s quarters, which were cramped and filled with the fruity aroma of the oil lamp sizzling on the side. The Libertarian sat with his boots on the table, pouring himself a goblet of red wine. His eyes took on an unnervingly bloody hue in the lamplight.

‘And how is our prisoner?’ he asked laconically.

Veitch hated his supercilious attitude and the way he often tried to pretend that Veitch was some menial. It wouldn’t take much to prompt Veitch to plunge his black blade into the Libertarian’s heart.

‘He wants to know what’s planned for him,’ Veitch replied sullenly.

‘But he’s not afraid, is he?’ A smile played on the edges of the Libertarian’s lips.

‘He will be.’ Veitch knew it was a lie the moment he uttered it. He’d never known Church to be scared of anything; that’s why Existence had made him the leader of the Five.

‘And how about you? Have you indulged yourself with him? A few taunts … a kick here and there to keep the bitterness at bay?’ The Libertarian laughed quietly, sipped his wine.

Veitch allowed his hand to slip to his sword; as always it whispered soothing words that calmed him. Not now, later. There was always time.

‘’Course,’ Veitch said, ‘things would be a lot simpler if you could just reach in and snap his neck, or whatever it is you do. Can’t, though, can you?’

A flicker of a shadow crossed the Libertarian’s face. ‘The years move fast, and soon I will be able to do what I want. I am a patient man. I can afford to bide my time.’

At the back of the cabin was an even smaller room. Veitch entered and closed the door behind him. Two benches faced each other, with a single chair beyond. A candle flickered greasily in one corner. On one bench sat Etain and Tannis, on the other Branwen and Owein. Their eyes snapped towards him as one with an eerie mechanical motion. Their faces were filled with pale horror.

Veitch sat in the chair and stretched, feeling the calm return. ‘All right, team. How we doin’?’ he said.

No one answered.