long time.”
“Indeed it has,” said Councilor Thalius. “But I suppose some things never change. You haven’t lost your predilection for violence, I see. No surprise there.”
“I offer protection. Security. Right now it’s your security I’m concerned with, Councilor. Kind of ironic, huh?”
“Not really, Owein. It’s simply an unfortunate coincidence.” Owein scoffed under his breath. “It’s some fine job you’ve been doing protecting us all. I think we’d all like to commend you for how safe we all feel.”
“Listen, I –”
“No, you listen, Maeriod! I don’t know how you think you can get away with locking us in here like animals while gods-know-what happens all around us, but I’m going to see to it that you never get another opportunity to protect anyone ever again! Clearly once was not enough! Some people just won’t learn.” Councilor Thalius turned to address the ballroom. “Would you all like to know the man who is in charge of our protection? May I introduce you to him?” He faced Owein again. “Lords and Ladies, I present Ex- Commander Owein Maeriod! Also known as Mad –!
Bang!
A gunshot rang out, and Owein noticed a suddenly peculiar look on the councilor’s face. His eyes became soft, almost pleading.
“Oh… my…” said the councilor as blood trickled out the corner of his mouth, and he fell face-first onto the floor. There was a bloody hole in his back.
Behind Councilor Thalius, the crowd parted to form a corridor leading all the way back to his killer, who was still standing on the far side of the room with a smoking gun in his outstretched hand.
He was a short, thin man dressed in a tight black coat and wearing two swords. His collar was upturned and fastened with a buckle over his face. Beneath his tricorn two narrow, squinting eyes stared threateningly at Owein. When he spun around, a long, braided ponytail flung with him.
He disappeared through an open door.
Owein bolted in pursuit.
The man with the ponytail was incredibly fast, and Owein soon found himself guessing his path more than following it. They wound through Gilderam’s varied corridors and hallways until the sound of creaking hinges ahead told Owein that the killer had fled outside, to the main deck.
When Owein burst out the hatch, he paused to listen. The baethes voth was near-deafening, but he picked up the sound of running footfalls from aft and tore down the deck after it.
Now on an open stretch, Owein took advantage of his superior height and rounded Gilderam at full sprint. Soon enough, he could see the murderer racing for the rear of the ship.
Owein ran his hardest to catch up, pumping his arms madly. The man with the ponytail drew his sword, hopped onto the taffrail, and sliced the halyard flying Captain Breld’s flag from the jackstaff. He pulled the flag down and gave Owein one last look before sheathing his sword and jumping right off the back of the ship – leaping clean into the open air beyond.
Panting, Owein slowed to a stop at the railing. He arrived just in time to see his target catch the slipstream of Gilderam’s propellers, nestled beneath the main deck, by stretching the flag out before him like a sail. The powerful wake blasted him even farther away into the night sky.
Unwilling to follow the man with the ponytail into certain doom, Owein thought about turning back, but something caught his eye in the sky behind Gilderam . As it came into focus Owein could scarcely believe what he saw.
From below a bank of dark clouds came cutting the prow of a ship… a Tricorn ship, still lagging behind, and now several entilum down. Owein became unsure if the killer had been as suicidal as he had initially believed while his eyes tracked the falling body and flag across the sky. Was it destined to land on the deck of that ship?
How could anyone calculate that jump? thought Owein. That’s impossible ….
It was too dark, though, and Owein lost sight of him in the