In minutes, the paladin was stripped down to the sweaty, bloodstained clothes beneath his armor. He looked smaller than usual, and for the first time Jherek noticed that Glawinn's opponent was a head taller, at least twenty pounds heavier, and had a longer reach than him.
'Why are you showing this man honor?' the young sailor asked.
'Because some men show honor despite the circumstances they find themselves in. As I have told you, young warrior, it's so often not how low you may get in life, but how you conduct yourself while you're there. I only pray that you get a clearer understanding of this some day.'
Glawinn took a deep breath and the sword the young sailor offered him. He turned to face his opponent and said, This is as even as I can make it.'
'On the contrary,' Tarmorock stated, 'I fear you make it too easy. I am quite good with the blade.'
'We shall see.' The paladin saluted smartly with his sword, bringing it down from his forehead and stepping easily into a swordsman's stance. 'I am Sir Glawinn, a paladin in the service of Lathander the Morninglord.'
Tarmorock bowed slightly, touching his blade to his forehead. 'May your god keep you.'
'And yours.'
The slaver captain sprang into action, launching a volley of attacks, rolling off of each of Glawinn's defenses to launch yet another thrust or slash. Steel rang through the dead silence that washed over the ship.
Jherek found himself holding his breath. Tarmorock was an excellent swordsman. The blades moved almost faster than he could see, and it was only Malorrie's and Glawinn's training that allowed him to pick up every nuance. Instinctively, his body shifted and his hand moved slightly, following the paladin's quick moves.
Years of practice aboard the ship while it rocked at sea should have given Tarmorock the advantage on the heaving deck, but Glawinn's skill and focus with the blade stripped those years of familiarity away, putting the slaver on equal footing with his opponent.
The two combatants stepped forward and back, from side to side. Neither truly seemed able to press an advantage. Long minutes passed. Most sword duels between two men not on a battlefield, Jherek knew from both Malorrie and Glawinn, lasted only seconds at best. Unarmored sword fighting was an art form.
Tarmorock's attack became more loose, but Glawinn's remained tight, his moves compact but fluid. Without warning, Tarmorock lunged, and for once Glawinn's defense wasn't there.
Cold fear knotted Jherek's back as he watched the blade slide toward Glawinn. When the sword stuck through the paladin, the young sailor knew the knight was skewered. The paladin's own blade stabbed deeply into Tarmorock's chest, piercing his heart.
Tarmorock looked down at the blade through his chest in disbelief. His arm dropped and Jherek saw that the captain's blade had missed Glawinn by scant inches though he couldn't see that from behind. Nerveless, Glawinn dropped the sword.
Moving quickly, Glawinn caught the mortally wounded man before he could fall. Tenderly, he held him as he might a brother. Jherek stayed back, wondering what the paladin said to the man he'd just killed, but he didn't try to overhear.
A moment later and Glawinn gently laid the captain to rest on the deck. Reaching into his blouse, the paladin stayed on his knees and pulled out the rosy pink disk that was Lathander's holy symbol. There in the midst of companions and enemies, he prayed for the fallen warrior.
Touched by the moment, wishing he knew of something he could believe in so fiercely, Jherek dropped to his knees beside the paladin and bowed his head as well.
XII
16 Flamerule, the Year of the Gauntlet
'Lady, may I have a moment of your time?' Glawinn asked. He stood with a bottle in his hand in the cramped doorway of Sabyna's cabin.
Surprised, Sabyna looked up from the spellbook she'd been studying. Arthoris, Azla's ship's mage, had given Sabyna two new spells that she believed she was capable of understanding.
'Is something wrong?' She stood up from the small bed. Her heart beat a little faster, and her first thoughts were of Jherek.
'Nothing's wrong,' Glawinn told her.
Sabyna placed her spellbook into the bag of holding at her side and Skeins curled around it. Crossing her arms over her breasts, she walked to the window and looked down at the ocean.
The pirate crew stripped what they could from the skeletal hulk that had once been Black Champion. With her hold flooded and having her deck partly disassembled and hauled away, the ship listed even more heavily into the ocean, creating increasing drag on the slave ship Azla claimed as her prize. The deck tilted at an incline now and had for the last two days.
Ship's moldings and cleats, the rudder, extra sailcloth, and the remaining rigging were the first items the pirate crew reclaimed. They'd used a block and tackle to take even Black Champion's two good masts to replace the broken ones on the slave ship.
They could not seat the masts while at sea, but after finishing the salvage operation, Azla planned to put into port at Agenais in the Whamite Isles to make the big repairs. Now they were down to taking the long, good planks from Black Champion's corpse.
'What did you want to talk about?' Sabyna asked.
Glawinn hesitated. 'The young warrior. I may be overstepping my bounds here, lady, but-'
'No,' Sabyna said. 'You're way over.'
'Perhaps I should go. I thank you for your time, and I ask your forgiveness.'
Sabyna pushed out her breath. 'Wait.' She sensed him standing there, rigidly at attention. 'Has Jherek told you what I said to him?'
'No, lady,' Glawinn answered, 'he's not one to betray confidences. In fact, I think he keeps too many of his own.'
'Why did you come?'
'To offer solace and share company.' Glawinn held up the dusty bottle. 'And to offer a glass of Captain Azla's rather fine port.'
Sabyna was surprised. 'I didn't know you drank.'
'Rarely, lady,' the paladin said, 'and never in excess. May I enter?'
'Of course.' Sabyna went to one of the small cabinets built above the bed and took out two wooden cups. 'The service is rather humble.'
'But adequate for our purposes. If I may.' Glawinn took the cups and poured the dark red wine.
Sabyna returned to the bed and sat, accepting the cup the paladin handed her. 'Say what you have to say.'
Glawinn sat on the small bench under the window. 'If you'll forgive me my indiscretion, lady,' he said, 'but you can be dreadfully blunt.'
'I come from a large family whose lives were spent crowded aboard one ship or another,' she explained. 'I learned to speak my mind early. Perhaps you're a little sensitive.'
'Lathander help me, but I knew this would not be easy,' Glawinn said, shifting uncomfortably.
'If it isn't a pleasant task, perhaps it would be better if it were over sooner.'
Despite her calm demeanor, Sabyna's heart beat faster than normal. Since she'd talked to Jherek and explained to him how she felt, they'd hardly spoken at all. The young sailor stayed busily engaged with the salvage work.
'It's just that I've become aware you aren't talking to each other.'
'Have you talked to him about it?'
'No.'
'Why talk to me first?'
'Because he won't listen to me.'
