"I ran into a cousin," he answered.

"And you decided to stay and talk to him instead of voyaging on to Baldur's Gate with us?" Sabyna cut around a wagonload of burned planks, walking faster than the tired team could pull.

Jherek stepped up his pace to follow her. "He needed help. My help." He tried not to notice how tightly her blue breeches hugged her slim, womanly hips as her cloak flared. The sight made thinking hard, but he was aware that he made no real effort to draw even with her and lose that view.

"You could have come and told me," she said.

"He was sick." Oh Ilmater, this was turning out worse than he thought it could. Each lie piled more uncertainly on the other, all of them waiting to come tumbling down.

"So sick that you couldn't come tell me?" She glanced over her shoulder and caught his eye.

Luckily he hadn't been watching beneath the cloak's edge. "Aye. He had no one to stay with him."

Sabyna gave a very unladylike curse. "You're lying."

"Lady?" Jherek thought frantically, wondering which lie she'd caught him in.

"I live aboard a ship, Malorrie," she said, coming to a stop. "That makes for a very small world."

Breezerunner sat in the harbor over her shoulder. The sails were trimmed and men scurried about in the rigging with lanterns, repairing damage where they found it. They looked like busy fireflies moving through the upper sections of the ship. Jherek heard Captain Tynnel's voice crack orders.

"How long did you think I would go before I found out the truth?" she demanded.

Jherek wished he knew which truth she was talking about.

"Not long after we'd sailed from Athkatla," she went on, "I was told about the fight you had with Aysel-and why."

A burn of embarrassment spread across Jherek's face and he had to break the eye contact by pretending to check his pouch.

"What frustrates me," Sabyna went on, "is that you were taken from Breezerunner instead of Aysel."

"He's crew," Jherek said. "I wasn't." As ship's mage, she should have known that.

"You would have been crew once we made Baldur's Gate," she said. "You as good as had the job."

The thought pleased and excited Jherek. Traveling overland wasn't something he wished to do again. He shrugged. The fact still remained that Tynnel had made his choice.

"You also could have talked to me," she went on.

"I was told that wouldn't be possible," Jherek said.

"By who?"

Jherek hesitated, realizing that he'd said more than he intended. Evidently whoever had spoken to the ship's mage hadn't told her everything.

"Captain Tynnel told you that, didn't he?" she demanded.

Jherek considered his options. Lying again was something he was determined not to do. He stood close enough to her to smell the delicate lilac scent she wore. Most of it was gone, worn away by time and the smoke that wreathed the air, but enough of it remained that it stirred memories of dining on meals she'd prepared for them in her cabin.

"Never mind," she went on before he could reply. "I can answer that one myself. Tynnel did tell you to stay away."

She muttered another oath, more virulent and descriptive than the last.

It wasn't that Jherek had never heard the curses before, though they weren't casual ones most seafarers would know, but rather the fact that Sabyna had called them out that stunned him.

"Look," she said, looking at him levelly, "first of all, I want to get a couple things straight with you. Then I'm going to see to Tynnel." She paused. "Don't get me wrong, I think the idea of you defending my honor is flattering, but I live at sea, a place where few women actually stay for long. When I became a ship's mage, my father protested, as did my mother. They both knew the coarse laxity of men at sea, and they knew how hard it would be to be the only woman on board a ship. Did you think Aysel's comments were the first of that kind that had ever been made?"

"I never considered it," Jherek said. Then he realized Sabyna must not have been told that Aysel was commenting on his feelings for her. He was quietly thankful.

"You should have," she said flatly.

A small group of Flaming Fist mercenaries approached them with drawn swords. The sergeant of the guard asked for their papers.

Before Jherek could explain that he had none, Sabyna produced hers, unfolding them with a flourish. "Read it and hit the cobblestones," she told the sergeant. "I don't have time for delays."

The sergeant held his lantern close to the papers as he read. Evidently he was chastised enough that he didn't bother asking for Jherek's. He thanked the ship's mage for her time and moved his group on.

"That wasn't the first time something like that has happened," Sabyna said. "I handle it when it does. That's how I maintain the respect of this crew. I won't put up with it, and I've got the means to make my displeasure known. If a sharp tongue won't get the message across, I have my magic. You stepping in like you did undermined that to a degree. By fighting you, Aysel now considers himself deserving of my attentions."

"I hadn't considered that." Jherek felt bad. He should have known the ship's mage could take care of herself. She'd faced pirates and storms at sea, and he'd discounted her independence. "I apologize."

"No," Sabyna stopped him. "There's no need to apologize. As I said, I found your defense of me to be very flattering. I wish I could have thanked you."

Jherek thought about that, feeling a little better. "You have a curious way of showing it." He'd seen Madame litaar go through mood changes that had confused him. Even Malorrie hadn't been able to understand them. The phantom's only words of advice were to remain as quiet as possible and offer only a small target till it passed.

"That was then. Now I'm mad." A small smile twisted her lips. "I was afraid I wasn't going to see you again. Faerun is a big place, and so much is going on now."

Jherek played her words back in his ears again. She'd been afraid she wouldn't see him again. He worked hard to keep the smile from his own face. Unconsciously, he twisted the pearl disk in his hand, barely aware of it.

He was also unaware of the figures that had closed in on them until it was too late. He glanced up, noticing that Sabyna had seen them as well.

The ship's mage shifted, putting the dock and the harbor to her back as she moved to Jherek's left, leaving his sword arm free.

A dozen men surrounded them, all thick-bodied from indulgences in drink and food as well as hard work. Jherek marked them as sailors because of their dress, weapons, and the rolling gait that showed in their movements.

None of the Flaming Fist mercenaries were anywhere to be seen.

The leader was a huge man with fiery red hair that caught highlights from torches in the distance. He carried a battle-axe in one hand and wore a small shield on his other arm. The shield was featureless except for a score of scars from previous battles.

A smaller man stood at his side, cloaked and hooded, his narrow shoulders pinched and rounded together. He kept his hands in the voluminous sleeves of his cloak.

"Sabyna Truesail," the big man rumbled. "Ship's mage of Breezerunner."

"I don't know you," Sabyna said.

Jherek kept his hand away from his sword hilt, hoping he was overreacting. Still, he noticed Sabyna's hands moving, readying her spells.

The big man grinned. "I'm Captain Vurgrom, of Maelstrom."

"I don't know your ship either."

Vurgrom shrugged, the smile never leaving his lips and never quite touching his eyes. "It doesn't matter, lassie. It's a long way from here."

"What do you want with me?"

Jherek glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

"It's not you," Vurgrom said. "It's your ship I'm after. Piece of business turned nasty on us tonight, and we want to get out of Baldur's Gate before morning. Unfortunately, the ship we'd borrowed took a lot of damage. My crew noticed your craft fared better. Took a little bit of doing, but we found out about you. Figured your captain might be wishful of keeping you in one piece. I guess I intend to find out."