Mad Ship

"Be clear on this!" Etta's voice rang out like a hammer on an anvil. She lifted the bloody knife and swept it in an arc that encompassed the whole ship and every staring face, tattooed or not. "I will tolerate no one who threatens the well-being and comfort of Captain Ke

This time the crowded folk on the deck disappeared like water swirling down a drain. In a matter of moments, the only people remaining abovedeck were the pirate crewmen and those few slaves Etta had chosen to hold Ke

As Etta came to Wintrow, their eyes met. The demonstration with Sa'Adar had been for his benefit as well. If Ke

That was all. He looked a moment longer at the row of tools. Then he glanced up at Etta. "I would like to offer prayers. A few moments of meditation might better prepare all of us for this."

"Just get on with it," she ordered him harshly. The line of her mouth was set flat, and the high planes of her cheeks were rigid.

"Hold him down," Wintrow replied. His own voice came out as harshly. He wondered if he were as pale as she was. A spark of anger burned inside him at her disdain. He tried to rekindle it as determination.

Etta knelt by Ke

"It's now," Wintrow told him. "Brace yourself." To Brig he said, "Hold his head, firmly. Put your palms on his forehead and pin him to the deck with your weight. The less he thrashes about, the better."

Of his own accord, Ke

Begin now, while he had courage still. He tried not to think that his own life depended on his success. As he gingerly worked the strap under the leg stump, he refused to think of Ke

The last time Wintrow had seen a limb severed from a man, the room had been warm and cheery. Candles and incense burned as Sa'Parte had prepared for his task with prayer and chanting. The only prayer uttered here was Windrow's silent one. It flowed in and out with his breath. Sa, grant your mercy, lend me your strength. Mercy, on an indrawn breath, Strength as he breathed out. It calmed his thundering heart. His mind was suddenly clearer, his vision keener. It took him a moment to realize Vivacia was with him, more intimately than ever before. Dimly, he could sense Ke

Mercy, strength, the ship prompted him. Mercy, strength, he breathed back at her. He threaded the leather strap through the rings and cinched it firmly about Ke

Ke

"Cut him, damn you!" Etta shrieked at Wintrow. "Get it over with! Do it!"

Wintrow was frozen as he knelt, paralyzed by Ke

Ke

With a shudder, Ke

He set the shining blade to the swollen flesh and drew it across and down. Nothing had ever prepared him for that sensation. He had helped with butchering at slaughter time at the monastery. It was not a pleasant task, but it had to be done. Then he had cut through cold meat that was still, that was solid and stiff from a day's hanging. Ke

He flung the knife down, wiped his hands down his shirt and cried, "Saw!"

Someone thrust it toward him and he grabbed it. To insert it into the wound sickened him but he did it. He dragged it across the bone; it made a terrible sound, a wet grinding.