Ship of Magic

“I won't,” Wintrow told him furiously. “And you will soon discover that if you cut one of us, we both bleed.” His father was struggling, but wordlessly and without much strength. Beside the ship, the white serpent trumpeted eagerly. Wintrow knew he had not the strength to prevail against those two men, let alone however many would muster to Ke

Ke

“Back!” Wintrow warned him. “And stop those men. Or I'll kick him in that leg and spatter his rotten flesh all over the deck.”

“Wait! Release him!” The command came not from Sorcor, but the woman. The men halted uncertainly, looking from her to Sa'Adar. Wintrow did not waste time speaking to them. Ke

Captain Ke

“Well? What say you?” Wintrow demanded, with the barest hint of a shake. “Do we bargain?”

The pirate's mouth scarcely moved as, in the softest whisper imaginable, Wintrow heard him say, “A likely urchin. Perhaps something useful can be made of him.”

“What?” Wintrow demanded furiously. Savage anger rose in him at the man's mockery.

An extremely strange look had come over the pirate's face. Ke

Wintrow felt a sudden prick against his ribs. The woman with the knife said, “Take Ke

“No. No, Etta, stand aside.” The pirate managed his pain well, never losing his educated diction. He still had to take a breath to speak on. “What is your bargain, boy? What do you have left to offer? Your ship, freely given?” Ke

“A life for a life,” Wintrow offered slowly. He spoke knowing that what he proposed was likely beyond his skill to perform. “I have been trained in healing, for I was once promised to Sa's priesthood.” He glanced down at the pirate's leg. “You need the skills I have. You know you do. I'll keep you alive. If you allow my father to live.”

“No doubt you'll want to cut more of my leg off for such a bet.” His question was contemptuous.

Wintrow looked up, searching the older man's eyes for acceptance. “You already know that must be done,” he pointed out to him. “You were simply waiting until the pain of the festering would make the pain of the removal seem like a relief.” He glanced down at the stump again. “You have nearly waited too long. But I am still ready to honor the bargain. Your life for my father's.”

Ke

“It's a poor sort of bet,” Ke

“You have a strange idea of wi

“Then you include your crew in your wager,” Vivacia suddenly pointed out. “For if you take Wintrow's life from me, I shall see every one of you to a watery grave.” She paused. “And that is the only bargain I offer to any of you.”

“High stakes,” Wintrow observed quietly. “Nonetheless, I accept them if you do.”

“I am scarcely in a position to shake hands upon it,” the pirate pointed out. His tone was as cool and charming as ever, yet Wintrow could see the man's strength fading even as they spoke. A small smile bent his lips. “You do not try to make me agree that if I live, I give your ship back to you?”

It was Wintrow's turn to shake his head slowly. His smile was as small as Ke

“There are no slaves aboard this ship!” Sa'Adar declared pompously.

Wintrow ignored him. He waited until the woman gave a slow nod.

“If you have my captain's word, you have my word,” Sorcor added gruffly.

“Fine,” Wintrow declared. He turned his head and looked straight at Sa'Adar as he spoke. “Clear the way to my father's salon. I want the pirate captain in his bed there. And let my father go to Gantry's cabin and take some rest. I will be seeing to his ribs later.”

For just an instant, Sa'Adar's eyes narrowed at the boy. Wintrow was not sure what passed through the man's mind. He knew he could not trust the priest to abide by anyone's word, not even his own. The man would bear watching.

Slaves milled apart to open a cha

Wintrow decided he should press his power, to see how far it would extend. He glanced at the map-faces that flanked Sa'Adar. “This deck is still a shambles,” he observed quietly. “I want the canvas and line cleared from it, and all mess scrubbed away. Then begin below decks. Free men have no excuse to live in squalor.”

The map-faces looked from him to Sa'Adar and back again.

Sorcor broke the impasse. “You can obey the boy when he tells you to do it, or you can obey me. The point is, it gets done and promptly.” He looked away from them to his own crew. The map-faces slowly moved away from Sa'Adar, to take up their directed tasks. The priest remained standing as he was. Sorcor was giving commands. “…and Gory on the wheel, Brig ru