Ship of Destiny

At a sign from the captain, the ship's boy sprang to life, serving the table. The snowy cloth, heavy china and glittering crystal belied the plai

There was table conversation, too, and if it was not always elevated, at least it was ma

Yet whilst they conversed with razor wit on the true meaning of the widow's son in Redoief's comedies or debated Saldon's command of language versus his deplorable lack of dramatic pacing, she longed to turn the talk in more informative directions. Her opportunity did not come until the end of the meal. As the others were excused and pushed away from the table, the captain turned his attention to Malta.

"So. Our Magnadon Satrap Cosgo again saw fit not to join us at table?"

Malta patted her lips and took her time answering. "Captain, I'm afraid he is still indisposed. His upbringing did not school him to the rigors of sea travel, I fear."

"His upbringing did not school him to any rigors. Say rather that he disdains our company."

"His health is delicate, and his circumstances distress him," Malta replied easily, determined not to speak critically of the Satrap. If she turned on him, she would no longer be seen as his loyal, and perhaps valuable, attendant. She cleared her throat slightly. "He again requested smoking herbs, to ease his seasickness."

"Pah. They do nothing for seasickness, save make a man too dazed to be bothered by it. I have told you we allow none aboard. It was debt for smoking herbs and other similar amusements that brought our company to the tattooist's stocks."

"I have told him that, Captain. I fear he does not believe me."

"He longs for them so that he ca

"I shall," Malta replied earnestly. "But I fear I ca

"Better say that you are accustomed to his temper, to his sulks, his arrogance, his childish spite. As to confiding my intentions, well, all have agreed that the Satrap of all Jamaillia will make a fine gift for Ke

"But Ke

Ke

"I shall persuade him to draw up such a list of names," Malta assured the captain. Her eyes followed the mate; he was the last of the company to leave the room. "If you will excuse me, I will see if I ca

"Are you in such a hurry to leave me?" Captain Red asked with mock sorrow. He stood and walked around the table toward her.

"I hasten to do your bidding," Malta replied. She smiled and let a glint of flirtation come into her eyes. She walked a difficult line with this man. He thought very well of himself, and that was to her advantage. It pleased him to suppose that she desired him, and he enjoyed his pursuit and the dramatic opportunities it afforded him. He flaunted his courtship of her to his own crew. Nor did her scar daunt him. Perhaps, she thought, once a man's own face had been marked against his will, he made less of the marks on others' faces.

"Could not you stay here and do my bidding as well?" he asked her with a warm smile. He was a very handsome man, with handsome ways. A cold, hard part of herself speculated that if she made herself mistress of this man, she could use him against Ke

She had been too distracted. Captain Red captured her hands and stood looking down on her with amusement. "I really must go," she murmured, feigning reluctance. "I've taken the Satrap no di

"Let him starve," Captain Red suggested brusquely, his glance roving over her face. "I'll wager it's a tactic no one has ever tried on him before: it might be exactly what he needs to make him more reasonable."

She managed gently to disengage one hand. "Were not his health so delicate, I would surely be tempted to try such a tactic. But he is the Satrap, and lord of all Jamaillia. Such an important man must be kept healthy. Do not you agree?"

In reply, his free hand suddenly swooped around her waist. He pulled her close and bent to kiss her. She closed her eyes and held her breath. She tried to make her mouth move as if she welcomed this, but all she could imagine was how it would end. Suddenly he was the Chalcedean sailor, on one knee between her legs. She wrenched free of him, gasping, "No. Please, please, no!"

He stopped immediately. There was perhaps a trace of pity in his amusement. "I suspected as much. You're a fine little actress. Were we both in Jamaillia, and I a free man and you unscarred, we might make much of you. But we are here, my dear, aboard the Motley. Such a crew as held you must have misused you. Was it very bad?"

She could not grasp that a man could ask her such a question. "I was threatened, but only threatened," she managed to say. She looked away from him.

He did not believe her. "I will not force you. Never fear that. I have no need to force any woman. But I would not mind helping you unlearn your fear. Nor would I hurry you." He reached out a hand and traced the line of her jaw. "Your demeanor and ma