"I am quite well, of course. And you?"

"You looked so… for an instant, I feared you would faint." Etta's eyes roved over his face, trying to read it. She tried to take his hands in hers.

That would never do. He smiled his small smile at her. Distract her. "The boy," he asked in a low voice with a nod toward Wintrow. "This may be hard for him. How is he?"

"Torn," Etta immediately confided in him. A lesser man might have been offended at how easily he had turned her concern from himself to Wintrow. But Etta was, after all, only a whore. She sighed. "He strives, over and over, to wring some response from the ship. He demands that she react to him as Vivacia. Of course, she does not. Just now, he seeks some reaction to Althea's presence from her. She gives him nothing. When he reminded her that you had promised him Althea would not be harmed, she laughed and said that was your promise, not hers. It struck him to the heart that she said that an agreement with you was not a promise to him." She dropped her voice lower. "It would mean much to him if you would reassure him that you would keep your word."

Kennit lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. "As much as I can, I will. It is as I told him before. Sometimes folk are determined to fight to the death, and then what can I do? Surely he does not expect me to allow her to kill me in order to keep my word to him?"

For a moment, Etta just looked at him. She seemed twice on the point of saying something, but made no sound. Finally, she asked quietly, "They have hoisted a truce flag. I suppose that could be a deception. But… but you will try to keep your promise?"

He cocked his head at her. "Such an odd question. Of course I shall." He made his smile warmer. He offered her his arm, and she took it and walked beside him to the railing. "If things begin to go badly-use your judgment in this-but if you suspect that things may not turn out as Wintrow would wish, take him below," he said quietly. "Find an excuse, a distraction of any kind. Any kind at all."

Etta flickered a glance at him. "He is scarcely a child, to forget one toy when another is waved at him."

"Do not misunderstand me. I only say what we both know is true. You are a woman well capable of distracting any man. Whatever you must do, I would not hold it against you. Anything. I do not expect you can make him forget his family is involved in this, but he need not witness it at firsthand." There. He could not make the hint any broader without actually commanding her to seduce him. Sa knew the woman had enough appetite for two men. Of late, she had been insatiable. She should be able to keep Wintrow busy for as long as it took Kennit to deal with this problem. She seemed to be thinking deeply as they approached Wintrow. He was speaking softly to the ship.

"Althea practically grew up on this deck. She expected you to be hers. If the choice had been hers, she would never have left you. You will see. When she stands on this deck again, your feelings for her will return. Vivacia, she will bring you back to yourself, and I know you will welcome her. Once she is here, you will have to let go the anger you feel over something she was forced to do." He smiled reassuringly. "You will be yourself again."

Bolt's arms were crossed on her breast. All around her, the water seethed with serpents. "I am not angry, Wintrow. I am bored. Bored with your whole recitation. I have often heard of priests, that they will argue until a man agrees with them simply to still their tongues. So I will ask you this. If I pretend to feel something for her, will you shut up and go away?"

For an instant, Wintrow bowed his head. Kennit thought she had defeated him. Then he lifted it to stare at the advancing Paragon. "No," he said in a low voice. "I won't go away. I'm staying right here, beside you. When she comes aboard, there should be someone here to explain to her what has happened to you."

This would never do. He made a swift decision. Kennit cleared his throat. "Actually, Wintrow, I have a small task for you first. Take Etta with you. As soon as we are anchored, I wish you to take the ship's boat and row over to the Marietta. Some of Sorcor's men are a bit hotheaded, and of late they have grown used to having their own way. Tell Sorcor, diplomatically of course, that I alone will be in charge of taking this ship. I wish him to hold the Marietta well back; it would suit me best if his crew did not even crowd the railings. This ship comes to us under a truce flag; I don't wish them to feel outnumbered and threatened. That could lead to violence where none is needed."

"Sir, could not you send…" Wintrow began pleadingly.

Kennit patted Etta's hand heavily. She took the hint.

"Don't whine, Wintrow," she rebuked him. "It will do you no good to remain here and let Bolt torment you. She toys with you like a cat with a mouse, and you have not the sense to remove yourself. So Kennit is doing it for you. Come. You have a gift for smooth words, and will be able to pass this order on to Sorcor in such a way that he does not feel slighted."

Kennit listened in admiration. She was so adept at making Wintrow seem both foolish and selfish for trying to oppose him. It must be a female talent.

There had been a time when his mother had spoken to him like that, letting the edge of impatience show to convince him of his error. He thrust the memory from him. The sooner Paragon was gone, the better. Not for years had so many buried recollections stirred so uncomfortably in him.

Wintrow glanced uncertainly from one to the other. "But I had hoped to be there when Kennit met-"

"It would look as if we flaunted you as hostage. I wish them to see you are a willing member of my crew, unconstrained. Unless…" Kennit paused, and then gave Wintrow an odd look. "Did you wish to leave the ship? Are you hoping to go with them? For if that is your desire, you but have to speak it. They could take you back to Bingtown, or your monastery…"

"No." Even Etta looked surprised at how swiftly Wintrow replied. "My place is here. I know that now. I have no desire to leave. Sir, I would remain at your side, and be witness to the creation of the Pirate Isles as a recognized kingdom. I feel-I feel this is where Sa intended me to be." He looked down at the deck silently for an instant. Then he met Kennit's serious gaze again. "I'll go to Sorcor, sir. Right now?"

"Yes. I'd like him to hold off where he is. Be sure he is clear on that. No matter what he sees, he is to let me resolve it."

He watched after them as they hastened away, then took Wintrow's place at the railing. "Why do you take such delight in tormenting the boy?" he asked the ship in amused tolerance.

"Why does he insist on bothering me with his fixation on Vivacia?" the ship growled in return. She flung her head around to stare at the oncoming Paragon. "What, exactly, was so marvelous about her? Why cannot he accept me in her stead?"

Jealousy? If he had had more time, it would have been an interesting possibility to explore. He rolled her questions aside with, "Boys always strive to keep things as they always have been. Give him time, he'll come around." Then he asked a question he had never dared before: "Can serpents sink a vessel? I don't mean just batter it so it can't sail; I mean send it all the way to the bottom?" He took a breath. "Preferably in pieces."

"I don't know," she replied lazily. She turned her head, giving him her profile. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she asked him, "Would you like us to try?"

For a moment, his mouth could not find the shape of the word. Then, "Yes," he admitted. "If it becomes necessary," he added feebly.

Her voice dropped throatily. "Consider what you are asking. Paragon is a liveship, like myself." She turned to stare across the water at the oncoming ship. "A dragon, kin to me, sleeps within those wooden bones. You are asking me to turn on my own kind, for your sake. Do you think I would do that?"