Ship of Destiny

ALTHEA HAD HELPED HER NIECE HOIST THE HEAVY CHAIR UP TO THE FOREdeck. She thought it a foolish bit of show herself, but none of this made any sense to her. They were all trapped in Ke

Hatred so hot it tinged her vision red rushed through her. She actually gasped for breath as her nails bit deep into her palms. She leaned back against the ship's rail and concentrated on letting it pass through her.

"You want to kill him that badly," the ship observed quietly. The comment seemed intended for her alone, yet Althea saw Ke

"Yes. I do." She let him read the words on her lips.

KENNIT GAVE HIS HEAD A SORROWFUL LITTLE SHAKE. THEN HE PUT HIS attention back on a small ship that was drawing steadily closer to them. It came sluggishly through the darkening afternoon. Ke

"THERE THEY ARE," MALTA WENT ON IN AN UNDERTONE TO THE SATRAP. "Sit tall and regal. Do you recognize any of them? Do you think they are loyal to you?"

He eyed his nobles sullenly. "I know old Lord Criath's colors. He was most enthusiastic about my journey north, yet declined to join me because sea travel pains his joints. Yet, look how easily he crosses to our deck, and how tall he stands. He scarcely needs the man who hands him across. The fifth man, he who comes now, he wears the colors of house Ferdio, but Lord Ferdio is a small, slight man. This must be a stouter, taller son of his. The others… I ca

Malta suspected it, an instant before anyone else did. She glanced past the men boarding the Vivacia. On the deck of the other ship, sailors assisted their leaders to cross. Many surly, glaring sailors, all cloaked against the day's cold. Too many?

"Ware treachery!" she shouted suddenly. Her cry forced them to act, perhaps sooner than they had pla

Ke

Horror transfixed the Satrap. He shrank back in his chair, even drawing his feet up from the deck. Malta stood helplessly beside him. "Protect me," he cried shrilly, "protect me, they've come to kill me, I know they have." He seized her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. He sprang to his feet, stumbling on the too-long cloak, and pulled her in front of him. "Guard me, guard me!" he pleaded. He dragged her away from the chair to the point of the bow and huddled there, clutching her wrist.

Malta struggled desperately to break free. She needed to see what was happening on the main deck. "Let me go!" she cried but he was too frightened to heed her. More men were pouring over from the other vessel.

There was a great crash as Jek snatched up the Satrap's chair and smashed it on the deck. She seized one leg of it, and tossed another carved leg to Althea. She was gri

Malta threw her head back and stared wildly around her. The other ships of the Jamaillian fleet were drawing near. She caught a glimpse of the Marietta charging down on them. She could not see the Motley, but she doubted it had fled. She glimpsed another ship, coming swiftly, not flying Jamaillian colors. Had another pirate ship chanced upon the fray? Then she saw the figurehead move.

"A liveship comes! A Bingtown ship comes to our aid!" Malta shouted the news, but no one paid any heed.

The Satrap had hold of her shoulder. Now he shook her frantically. "Get me below, take me to safety. You must protect me."

"Let me go!" she cried desperately. "I can't protect you if you cling to me like this." She strained against his grip and managed to reach the rung Jek had thrown. She hefted it in her hand, but didn't feel any safer.

"WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE'RE CHARGING INTO!" AMBER SHOUTED UP TO HIM.

"We know Althea's on that ship!" Brashen bellowed angrily as he clambered down the mast. "We can't hold back here and do nothing while the Jamaillians take the Vivacia. I don't trust them any more than I do Ke

Semoy came on the run. "Right away, Captain. But you ought to tell the men who we're fighting."

Brashen gri

A surprising bellow burst suddenly from Paragon. "But save Ke

THE BATTLE, CONFINED TO THE MAIN DECK OF THE VIVACIA, SUDDENLY shifted. The sheer pressure of men pouring over from the Jamaillian ship was turning the tide. In horror, Malta saw Jek pulled down. Althea dove into the melee after her. As she vanished, a wave of Jamaillian warriors came up over the lip of the deck. She had one glimpse of Wintrow, Etta and Ke

"Here he is!" roared a Jamaillian sailor as he leapt up to her. She swung her rung at him. It hit his sword arm, but he simply shifted his arm so the blow was glancing. With his free hand, he snatched the rung out of her grip as easily as taking a toy from a child. He roared with laughter and pushed her aside. His push and the Satrap clinging to her sent her sprawling. The man grabbed the Satrap by the back of his collar, shook him free of his grip on Malta. When she snatched at the Satrap, the fighter held him out of her reach and drew his sword back to plunge it into Malta, then stared in sudden disbelief at a sword tip standing out from his chest. Behind him, a tall man roared his fury. He jerked both sword and victim back and away from Malta. He shoved the dead man into his comrades, pulling the sword out as he did so.