Gunfire: The Captain

Ryle handed the reins to the head butler, nodding, and we rolled off the coach at the next available turning. The evening was well advanced, and it was a simple matter to merge into the deepening shadows.

The Silver Skies was hardly a difficult ship to recognise. It was a sleek, smoothly streamlined vessel that oozed speed from every one of its counter-sunken bolts and fluted spars.

Captain Jerem was a tall, well-dressed and young-looking Frenchman. His stance and posture said swordsman. I first thought foil or rapier, but it wasn't a precise, jabbing sort of strength. It would be a sabre, I concluded - a flexible strength, reactive and unpredictable.

He looked up as the coach sped past, but did not linger on it. I coughed quietly to draw his attention, while the head butler took a quick left turn towards another pier to throw off any lingering eyes.

"Captain Jerem?"

"Oui."

"My name is Ilse-Lorenz aul Janse-Lomberg. We seek passage to the Raventops."