Ship of Destiny

"Thank you," Etta unconsciously echoed the sentiment. "Thank you more than you can know. From both of us." She walked swiftly away from the foredeck, leaving him with a mystery to ponder.

Ahead of him, on the Motley's deck, a lantern flashed suddenly. It was held aloft thrice and swung once, then masked again. It was still almost a surprise to have access to Ke

"THIS HAD BETTER BE IMPORTANT," BRASHEN GRUMBLED TO ALTHEA AS THEY bent to the oars. Etta and Amber ma

"I'm sure it is," Althea muttered. They worked heavily, struggling against wind, water and the darkness to catch up with the lead ship. The four ships had closed up the gap between them, but they had not stopped, even for this meeting. Vivacia led them as they picked their way through a maze of small islands. Some loomed steep and rocky, while others showed only as waves breaking and ru

Brashen approved the choice to put as much distance between them and the Jamaillian fleet as possible, but he still had reservations about leaving his ship to go to Vivacia. Althea had assured him that Wintrow could be trusted, but he reminded himself that they knew little of the crew on the Vivacia, or the captains and crews of the other two ships. They had been thrown into an unlikely alliance with the pirates. Memories of being under the hatch in a sinking ship were still fresh in his mind.

Vivacia took them up just as a drenching rain began to fall. By the light of a dimmed lantern, they were hauled aboard. She already trailed boats from the Marietta and the Motley. They were last to arrive. Brashen's wariness rose another notch. Etta climbed up first. Althea began to follow, but he stopped her with a touch. "I'm going next," he growled low. "At any sign of treachery, go back to Paragon."

"I don't think you need fear," Althea began but he shook his head.

"I lost you once. I won't gamble you again," he told her.

"Wise man," Amber observed quietly as he seized the wet ladder and began to climb. As he set his hands to the Vivacia's railing, incredible emotions raced through him. For an instant, he was unma

"Brashen Trell!" the ship called back to him in a low contralto. "Paragon has done you good. You are more sensitive to us than ever you were when you worked my decks. For the first time in my waking life, I bid you welcome aboard."

"Thank you," he managed. Etta was nowhere in sight. Wintrow stood on the deck in the pouring rain, offering him a hand to shake. The self-effacing lad he had met at Ephron's funeral now stood straight and met his eyes. Heavy grief had aged his face. He would never be a large man, but man he definitely was. "You remember the way to the chart room, I'm sure," he said and Brashen found himself answering a familiar smile with one of his own. Wintrow's resemblance to Althea was truly unca

He watched Althea's face as she came aboard the ship. When she set hands to the rail, he saw how she suddenly glowed. Malta came to meet her and they immediately fell into conversation as they hurried inside. Amber seemed less affected by her first contact with the liveship. It was when she set eyes on Wintrow that her face went slack with shock. "The nine-fingered slave boy," she blurted out.

Wintrow lifted a hand swiftly to his cheek, then dropped it self-consciously. He gave Brashen an uneasy glance as Amber stared at him. It was only broken when Jek burst from the shadows to seize Amber in a fierce hug. "Aow, you look worse than I do!" she greeted her as Wintrow hastily turned away. Brashen felt mixed emotions as he trod the once-familiar deck. Ke

The chart room was crowded. Etta was there, as was Malta's Rain Wilder. Reyn seemed to be determined to be unaware of the attention he attracted. The Satrap was dramatically aware of his own importance. Two men, one broad and stocky, the other flamboyantly clad, would be the other pirate captains. The stocky man's eyes were reddened with weeping. His red-headed comrade wore a grave demeanor. They knew of Ke

The captured Jamaillian nobles lined the walls, a bedraggled and weary group. Several looked on the verge of collapse. Wintrow shut the door behind him and gave them a moment to discard wet cloaks. He gestured to seats around the crowded table, while he remained standing. The heavyset pirate captain was pouring brandy for all of them. Brashen was glad of the warming stuff. He recognized the snifter. Ephron Vestrit had reserved it for special occasions. Althea hastened to a seat beside him. She leaned close to him and whispered hurriedly, "The best of news! When Reyn and the dragon left Bingtown, my mother and Keffria and Selden were all there and in good health." She took a breath. "I fear that is the only good news, however. My family is beggared, my home a vandalized shell, our holdings sacked. Now more than ever, a liveship would… I'll tell you later," she amended hastily as she realized all other conversation at the table had ceased. All turned to Wintrow at the head of the table.

Wintrow drew a breath and spoke decisively. "I know none of you are easy at being called away from your ships. It was necessary. Ke

There it was, Brashen thought: the assumption of command and authority was in his voice. He half expected someone to challenge it, but all were silent. The other pirate captains had already deferred to him. Everyone waited respectfully. Only the Satrap's satisfied smile let everyone know he already knew what was to come.

Wintrow took a breath. "The treaty, so painstakingly hammered out by King Ke

A shocked silence followed these words. Then both Captain Red and Sorcor leapt to their feet with cries of triumph. Etta lifted her eyes to Wintrow's face. "You've done it?" she asked in wonder. "You've finished what he promised us?"

"I've made a start on it," Wintrow replied grimly. "My sister Malta has been instrumental in persuading them to this wise action. But there remains much to do."

At a look from him, his two captains resumed their seats. Sorcor's deep voice broke the silence. There was fierce satisfaction in his voice. "When you told me Ke

Wintrow's voice was grave, but the hint of a smile played on his face as he spoke on. "We know these waters well. We've left the Jamaillian fleet behind us in the dark. I recommend that as soon as Sorcor and Red return to their vessels, they separate and loop back through the islands and return to Divvytown. Send birds to command a massing of the pirate fleet. Then lie quiet there for a time until the other ships arrive."

"And you, sir?" Sorcor asked.

"I'll be going with you, Sorcor, on the Marietta. Also Etta and the Lord High Magnadon Satrap Cosgo. As well as our captives… noble guests," he amended smoothly. He raised his voice to forestall questions. "The Satrap requires our protection and support. We will mass our fleet at Divvytown. Then we will undertake to return him to Jamaillia City, where he can present to the rest of his nobles the endorsed treaty that allies him with the Kingdom of the Pirate Isles. Our guests shall remain well cared for in Divvytown until our claims are recognized. Now, Etta-" He paused, then plunged on, "Queen Etta, chosen by Ke