'She'll tell,' Lop complained in confusion. It took so little to confuse the man.
'Naw. She'll scream and wiggle a bit, but we'll leave her smiling. You'll see.' Artu leered at her. He wet his pursed little mouth. 'Right, matey?' he taunted her. He grinned, showing brown-edged teeth.
Althea met his gaze squarely. She could not show fear. Her mind was racing. Even if she screamed, no one would hear her down here. The ship might be aware of her, but she couldn't count on Paragon. He had been so spooky lately, imagining serpents and floating logs and yelling out sudden warnings, that most likely no one would pay attention to him. She would not scream. Artu was looking at her, his little eyes shining. He'd like her to scream, she realized. He and she both knew that when he was finished with her, he'd have to kill her. He'd try to make it look like an accident, falling cargo or whatever. Lop would say whatever Artu told him to say, but Brashen would not be fooled. Brashen would likely kill them both, but she wouldn't be around to watch him do it.
The cascade of thoughts tumbled through her mind in less than a breath. She was on her own here. She'd sworn to Brashen she could handle this crew. Could she?
'Let go, Artu. Last chance,' she told him evenly. She managed to keep the tremor out of her voice.
He backhanded her with his free hand, the blow so swift she never saw it coming. Her head snapped back on her neck. She was stunned for an instant, dimly aware of Lop's distressed, 'Don't hit her,' and Artu's, 'Naw, that's how she wants it. Rough.'
His hands scrabbled over her body, pulling her shirt loose from her trousers. Her revulsion at his touch was what brought her back. She struck out at him with all her strength, body punches that he didn't seem to feel. His body was as hard as wood. He laughed at her efforts and she knew an instant of despair. She couldn't hurt him. She would have fled then, but his grip on her arms was tighter than a vise, and the disarray of cargo made a quick escape impossible. He forced her up against a crate. He released one of her arms to grip the front collar of her shirt. He tried to tear it, but the stout cotton held. With her one free hand, she punched hard in and up at the base of his ribs. She thought he flinched.
This time she saw his blow coming. She threw her head to one side and he punched the crate behind her instead of her face. She heard the wood splinter with the force of his blow and heard him shout hoarsely. She hoped he had broken his hand. She tried to gouge his eyes, but he snapped at her, biting her wrist hard and drawing blood. They overbalanced, and went down. She twisted desperately, trying not to land beneath him. They fell on their sides amongst the crates and boxes. It made for close quarters. She drew her arm back and delivered two short, hard jabs to Artu's belly.
She had a glimpse of Lop towering over them. The great dolt was hitting himself in the chest in his distress. His mouth hung open, wailing. No time to think.
She grabbed a handful of Artu's hair and slammed his head against the keg behind him. For an instant, his grip on her slackened. She did it again. He kneed her in the gut, driving all the breath out of her. He rolled on top of her and pressed her down. With a knee, he tried to force her legs apart. She cried out in fury, but could not draw her arms back to get in a decent punch. She tried to pull her legs up to kick at him but he had her pinned. He laughed down at her, his breath foul in her face.
She'd seen it done. She knew it would hurt. She threw her head back as far as she could, then tried to slam her forehead against his. She missed and cracked her forehead against his teeth. They cut her forehead as they broke off in his mouth. He screamed high in pain and was suddenly leaning back from her, his hands to his bloody mouth. She followed him up, hitting him as hard as she could, not caring where her punches landed. She heard one of her knuckles pop and felt a flash of pain in her hand, but kept hitting as she managed to come up to her feet. Once she was standing in the confined space between the crates, she kicked him instead. When he was lying on his side, balled up and moaning, she stopped.
She pushed her loose bloody hair back from her forehead and stared around her. Hours seemed to have passed, but the lantern still flickered and Lop still gaped at them. She had never realized how half-witted the man was until now. He was chewing on his knuckle and as her eyes met his, he shouted at her, 'I'm in trouble, I know, I'm in trouble.' His eyes were both defiant and scared.
'Find that keg of rancid meat and get it overboard.' She stopped to catch another breath. 'Clean up the mess. Then you're off watch.'
She suddenly hunched over, hands on her knees, and took several deep breaths. Her head was spinning. She thought she would throw up, but managed not to. Artu was starting to uncurl. She kicked him again, hard. Then she reached overhead to the freight gaff. She grabbed the hook by the handle and twisted it free of the beam.
Artu rolled his head and stared up at her with one blood-caked eye. 'Sar, no!' he begged. He threw his hands up over his head. 'I didn't do nothing to you!' The pain of his broken teeth seemed to have completely disabled him. He waited for the blow to fall.
Lop gave a wordless shout of horror. He frantically began moving crates and kegs, looking for the spoiled meat.
For answer, she grabbed a handful of Artu's shirt, and punched the freight hook through it. Then she headed toward the ladder, determinedly hauling him after her. He came kicking and squalling and trying to get to his feet. She paused and gave the handle of the hook a twist. The canvas of his shirt twisted with it, binding his arms in tight to his body. She dragged him on, almost a dead weight behind her. She supplemented her ebbing strength with her anger. She could hear Paragon shouting but couldn't make out his words. By this time, a few heads had appeared at the hatch and were peering down curiously. They were from Lavoy's watch. That meant the first mate was most likely on deck now. She didn't look at them as she clambered up the steps dragging the struggling Artu behind her. She put all her determination into reaching the deck.
As she finally emerged above, she heard muttered comments as the hands asked one another what was going on. Those about the hatch fell back. As she hauled Artu up behind her, the exclamations became curses of awe. She caught one glimpse of Haff, staring wide-eyed at her. She headed for the port railing, dragging Artu after her. He was moaning and mewling, 'I didn't do nothing to her, I didn't do nothing!' His complaints were muffled by his own hands held protectively over his broken teeth and bloody mouth. Lavoy looked at them incuriously from his post on the starboard railing.
Brashen suddenly appeared on the deck. His shirt was open and he was barefoot, his hair unbound. Clef trailed after him, his mouth still tattling. The captain took in the situation at a glance. Brashen stared in horror at her bloodied face and disheveled clothing, but only for an instant. Then he glanced about for the mate.
'Lavoy! What is going on here?' Brashen roared. 'Why haven't you put a stop to this?'
'Sir?' Lavoy looked puzzled. He glanced over at Althea and Artu as if he had only just now noticed them. 'Not my watch, sir. The second seems to have it well in hand.' He hardened his voice to that of command as he asked her, 'Am I correct? Can you handle your task, Althea?' She halted where she stood to look at him. 'I'm throwing the rotten meat overboard, like you ordered. Sir.' She put another half-twist on the hook as she spoke.
For a moment, all was still. Lavoy transferred his quizzical look to Brashen. The captain shrugged. 'Carry on.' He began fastening his shirt as if it did not concern him. He lifted his eyes to look over the water and see what sort of weather lay before them.
Artu howled like a kicked dog and began to struggle. She dragged him closer to the rail, wondering if she would really do it. Suddenly Lop appeared on deck. He was carrying two buckets; the smell told her what they held. 'I found the bad meat. I found it,' he bellowed and rushed past her to the railing. 'Cask was smashed. It is all over down there, but we'll get it cleaned up, right Artu? We'll get it cleaned up.' He heaved one load over the side. As he lifted the second bucket, a serpent's head broke the water.
It snapped at the fall of foul meat as Lop staggered back, screaming.
'Serpent! Serpent!' Paragon added his roar to the sudden commotion.
Althea let go of the cargo hook. Artu scrambled backwards from the railing, the hook handle clacking against the deck as he went. For a long instant, she and the serpent stared at one another, eye to eye. Its scales were the green of new spring foliage, with immense eyes as yellow as dandelions. Each individual scale overlapped two others in a precise pattern that begged the eye to follow it. The largest scales on its back were bigger than her hand, while around the eyes its scales were tinier than grains of wheat. For a moment, the beauty of the immense animal transfixed her. Then it opened jaws that could have easily engulfed a whole man. She looked into a shockingly red mouth edged with rows of teeth. It shook its head back and forth with a questioning roar. She stood stock-still. It closed its mouth and stared at her.
She caught movement from the corner of her eye. A man running with a boat hook. At the same instant
