The call was soft, not meant to startle. The young sailor moved his feet carefully, turning to stare back at the ship. Captain Tarnar stood in the bow, arms folded across his chest.
'It's almost time to come about and tack into the wind the other way. I didn't want to lose you when we re- rigged the canvas.'
'Thank you, Captain.'
Carefully, Jherek walked back along the bowsprit, then hopped onto the forecastle deck.
Tarnar gazed at him in open speculation and said, 'I've never seen a sober man try to do what you just did, and even drunk I never saw it accomplished.'
Jherek flushed with embarrassment over drawing unnecessary attention. Since boarding Steadfast, he'd been the object of enough of it.
'Most of my crew is convinced that you're cursed, but a few think of you as some kind of holy man. Which of them have it right?'
'I'd say cursed,' Jherek replied bitterly. 'I don't know.'
'Personally, I was thinking you might be blessed.'
Jherek glanced at the captain to see if he was joking.
'All these days at sea, and us staring the Alamber in the teeth the most of it, and we've not suffered one sea devil attack. Most ships aren't finding passage that easy.'
'The voyage isn't over yet,' Jherek said harshly.
'You're not a man to ever see a glass half full, are you?'
'I've had reason not to,' Jherek said. 'Most days, it's not even been my glass to look at.'
Shouts suddenly rang out from the port side of the ship. 'Dragon!' a man bawled.
'Where away?' Tarnar demanded, turning and striding to that side of the ship.
'There, Cap'n!' The mate pointed at the sea.
Looking out into the blue-green water, Jherek saw the unmistakable gold scales of the sea wyrm forty yards out. Its serpentine body undulated through the sea, easily pacing the ship, not having to fight the wind.
'What is it?' a man bellowed in consternation.
'Dragon-kin,' another man roared back. 'Umberlee probably sent the great damned thing to fetch us and pull us under the salt.'
A handful of the crew grabbed bows and drew arrows back.
'No!' Jherek ordered even as they loosed. The arrows raced across the intervening distance, but none of them found their mark. 'Don't loose any more arrows!'
The young sailor stepped forward and pushed a man to the deck. The crew instantly formed a pocket around Jherek. Knives and cudgels appeared in their hands.
'Demonspawn,' one of the men growled. 'Shoulda tied an anchor 'round his feet and deep-sixed him!'
Jherek raised the cutlass to defend himself, but-looking into the angry and frightened faces of the men before him-his resolve left him. He knew there was no way he could fight them. They weren't pirates or slavers, nor any black-hearted rogues that he could recognize. They were simply men afraid of what was before them. A warrior didn't fight such men over anything less than honor or to save a life. Jherek couldn't fight them just to save his own life, not when he was the cause of their fear.
The young sailor dropped his cutlass and stood before the crew unarmed. The anger inside him kept his fear away. He waited. He wouldn't run.
'Run him through!' a crewman near the back yelled. 'See if his blood's red or if you can read his befouled heritage in his own tripe, by the gods!'
One of the men lashed out with a cruel skinning knife. Jherek turned just enough to avoid the blow.
'Enough!' Tarnar roared. 'This is my ship. As long as it remains my ship, nothing will happen aboard her that I don't sanction. That's the way it has always been, and that's how it shall be until I'm not fit to command her.' He glared at the men assembled before him. 'Is that understood?'
'Aye, Cap'n.' The response was quick and came from the mouth of every man. All the oaths were grudgingly gixren.
'Then get back to work,' the captain ordered. 'Every mother's son of you.'
The crew turned and walked away, grumbling.
Tarnar turned, his eyes wide as he studied Jherek. 'By the gods, boy, what is it about you that you'd stare them in the teeth and not raise a hand against them?''
'They didn't deserve my wrath,' Jherek answered. 'They have no control over my being here.'
'The}' would have killed you if I let them.'
'Aye.'
Tarnar shook his head in disbelief. 'What is that thing doing here?' He pointed at the sea wyrm keeping pace with Steadfast.
'I don't know, Captain.' Jherek turned to the railing and stared out at the sea wyrm. It disappeared beneath the waves. 'I've seen it before. Back on Azure Dagger.'
'Then it has followed you here,' concluded Tarnar.
Jherek made no response to that, but his mind reeled with the implications of the dragon's presence.
'Boy, if something powerful enough to stop the winds and control the waters wanted you dead, it would have drank down the ship and you with it,' the captain said. 'You're still alive, so I have to ask why.'
'I don't know,' Jherek said with grim determination, 'but whatever it is, it will regret it.'
Tarnar shook his head. 'A prudent man wouldn't presume to put himself above the gods.'
'I'm beyond prudence,' Jherek declared. 'I will demand an accounting. My life has never been an easy one, and this force-this god if you wish to see it that way-has seen to that. It can kill me, strip the flesh from my bones, but I will not kneel before some heartless thing. I will have my battle, and I will acquit myself with honor.'
Sabyna paused at the edge of the narrow, rutted street and watched a wagon pass.
The wagon was loaded with timber the driver was hauling to the sawmill down by the docks. The merry jingle-jangle of the horses' harnesses stood out in sharp counterpoint to the tired plod of the animals. The driver and the three woodchoppers with him looked worn out.
Agenais rumbled with steady business and men. Coin changed hands quickly, and prices marked on goods didn't mean a thing. If no one was interested in something, the price could sometimes be halved. Impromptu auctions went on all around her where there was more than one prospective buyer and a limited supply of goods. The roll of bids, accompanied by oaths and strident voices, remained as steady as the conversations and stories that were told.
Sabyna crossed the street, aware of the men's attentions. Some eyed her discreetly, and others stared at her with openly wolfish hunger.
On the other side of the rutted street, she stepped up onto a boardwalk under a badly listing eave in front of the apothecary's shop. Her boot heels rang hollowly against the wooden surface.
'Hey, little woman,' a man called gruffly.
Sabyna kept her eyes forward. From experience she'd learned not to acknowledge speakers in such situations.
The man reached out and wrapped a beefy hand around her wrist. 'Hey,' he grumbled, 'I was talking to you.' The man was short of six feet but was as broad as the back end of a barge. He was unshaven and smelled of ale.
Slowly, Sabyna reached out with her free hand for the whip lashed to the big man's belt. She smiled, watching other men come join the first.
'You're lucky,' she said in a soft voice.
The man grinned more broadly and asked, 'How am I lucky?'
'Despite the mood I'm in and your own bad manners, I'm not going to kill you.' Sabyna tapped the whip and said, 'Bind.'
The whip surged up from the man's side and uncoiled. Before he could do more than let go her wrist and take a step back, the whip wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides and trapping his legs together. He yelped in fear and surprise.
Placing a hand in the center of his chest, Sabyna shoved the man into the rutted street. She turned to face
