She had a glimpse of Lop towering over them. The great dolt was hitting himself in the chest in his distress. His mouth hung open, wailing. No time to think.

She grabbed a handful of Artu's hair and slammed his head against the keg behind him. For an instant, his grip on her slackened. She did it again. He kneed her in the gut, driving all the breath out of her. He rolled on top of her and pressed her down. With a knee, he tried to force her legs apart. She cried out in fury, but could not draw her arms back to get in a decent punch. She tried to pull her legs up to kick at him but he had her pinned. He laughed down at her, his breath foul in her face.

She'd seen it done. She knew it would hurt. She threw her head back as far as she could, then tried to slam her forehead against his. She missed and cracked her forehead against his teeth. They cut her forehead as they broke off in his mouth. He screamed high in pain and was suddenly leaning back from her, his hands to his bloody mouth. She followed him up, hitting him as hard as she could, not caring where her punches landed. She heard one of her knuckles pop and felt a flash of pain in her hand, but kept hitting as she managed to come up to her feet. Once she was standing in the confined space between the crates, she kicked him instead. When he was lying on his side, balled up and moaning, she stopped.

She pushed her loose bloody hair back from her forehead and stared around her. Hours seemed to have passed, but the lantern still flickered and Lop still gaped at them. She had never realized how half-witted the man was until now. He was chewing on his knuckle and as her eyes met his, he shouted at her, "I'm in trouble, I know, I'm in trouble." His eyes were both defiant and scared.

"Find that keg of rancid meat and get it overboard." She stopped to catch another breath. "Clean up the mess. Then you're off watch."

She suddenly hunched over, hands on her knees, and took several deep breaths. Her head was spinning. She thought she would throw up, but managed not to. Artu was starting to uncurl. She kicked him again, hard. Then she reached overhead to the freight gaff. She grabbed the hook by the handle and twisted it free of the beam.

Artu rolled his head and stared up at her with one blood-caked eye. "Sar, no!" he begged. He threw his hands up over his head. "I didn't do nothing to you!" The pain of his broken teeth seemed to have completely disabled him. He waited for the blow to fall.

Lop gave a wordless shout of horror. He frantically began moving crates and kegs, looking for the spoiled meat.

For answer, she grabbed a handful of Artu's shirt, and punched the freight hook through it. Then she headed toward the ladder, determinedly hauling him after her. He came kicking and squalling and trying to get to his feet. She paused and gave the handle of the hook a twist. The canvas of his shirt twisted with it, binding his arms in tight to his body. She dragged him on, almost a dead weight behind her. She supplemented her ebbing strength with her anger. She could hear Paragon shouting but couldn't make out his words. By this time, a few heads had appeared at the hatch and were peering down curiously. They were from Lavoy's watch. That meant the first mate was most likely on deck now. She didn't look at them as she clambered up the steps dragging the struggling Artu behind her. She put all her determination into reaching the deck.

As she finally emerged above, she heard muttered comments as the hands asked one another what was going on. Those about the hatch fell back. As she hauled Artu up behind her, the exclamations became curses of awe. She caught one glimpse of Haff, staring wide-eyed at her. She headed for the port railing, dragging Artu after her. He was moaning and mewling, "I didn't do nothing to her, I didn't do nothing!" His complaints were muffled by his own hands held protectively over his broken teeth and bloody mouth. Lavoy looked at them incuriously from his post on the starboard railing.

Brashen suddenly appeared on the deck. His shirt was open and he was barefoot, his hair unbound. Clef trailed after him, his mouth still tattling. The captain took in the situation at a glance. Brashen stared in horror at her bloodied face and disheveled clothing, but only for an instant. Then he glanced about for the mate.

"Lavoy! What is going on here?" Brashen roared. "Why haven't you put a stop to this?"

"Sir?" Lavoy looked puzzled. He glanced over at Althea and Artu as if he had only just now noticed them. "Not my watch, sir. The second seems to have it well in hand." He hardened his voice to that of command as he asked her, "Am I correct? Can you handle your task, Althea?" She halted where she stood to look at him. "I'm throwing the rotten meat overboard, like you ordered. Sir." She put another half-twist on the hook as she spoke.

For a moment, all was still. Lavoy transferred his quizzical look to Brashen. The captain shrugged. "Carry on." He began fastening his shirt as if it did not concern him. He lifted his eyes to look over the water and see what sort of weather lay before them.

Artu howled like a kicked dog and began to struggle. She dragged him closer to the rail, wondering if she would really do it. Suddenly Lop appeared on deck. He was carrying two buckets; the smell told her what they held. "I found the bad meat. I found it," he bellowed and rushed past her to the railing. "Cask was smashed. It is all over down there, but we'll get it cleaned up, right Artu? We'll get it cleaned up." He heaved one load over the side. As he lifted the second bucket, a serpent's head broke the water.

It snapped at the fall of foul meat as Lop staggered back, screaming.

"Serpent! Serpent!" Paragon added his roar to the sudden commotion.

Althea let go of the cargo hook. Artu scrambled backwards from the railing, the hook handle clacking against the deck as he went. For a long instant, she and the serpent stared at one another, eye to eye. Its scales were the green of new spring foliage, with immense eyes as yellow as dandelions. Each individual scale overlapped two others in a precise pattern that begged the eye to follow it. The largest scales on its back were bigger than her hand, while around the eyes its scales were tinier than grains of wheat. For a moment, the beauty of the immense animal transfixed her. Then it opened jaws that could have easily engulfed a whole man. She looked into a shockingly red mouth edged with rows of teeth. It shook its head back and forth with a questioning roar. She stood stock-still. It closed its mouth and stared at her.

She caught movement from the corner of her eye. A man running with a boat hook. At the same instant came Brashen's shouted warning, "Don't anger it! Leave it alone!"

She turned and flung herself at Haff. The sailor brandished the long gaff like a weapon, shouting, "I'm not afraid!" The pallor of his face told a different story. She caught at his arm and tried to stop him.

"It just wants food. Leave it alone. It might go away. Haff. Leave it alone!"

He shook her off impatiently. Her bruised hands were suddenly too sore to grip. She fell away from him as he spurned her. In horror, she watched him swing the hook.

"No!" Brashen roared, but the gaff was already in motion. It struck the animal on the snout, glancing harmlessly off the overlapping scales until the hook reached a nostril. More by chance than aim, the hook caught there and dug in.

In horror, Althea watched the creature throw its head back. The gaff went with it and Haff held on with the game stupidity of a pit dog. In an instant, the serpent seemed to double in size. Its neck swelled, and an immense ruff of poisonous quills suddenly stood out stiff around its face and throat. It roared again, and this time a fine spray flew from its mouth. Where it struck the deck, the wood smoked. Althea heard Paragon cry out in distress. The drift of poison stung Althea's skin like a sunburn. Haff shrieked as he was engulfed in a fog of the stuff. He let go of the gaff and fell bonelessly to the deck. He was either unconscious or dead. The serpent abruptly cocked its head, eyeing the prone man. Then it darted its head at Haff.