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?”

This sudden gaping hole in his plans nearly unmanned him. They were bringing the Paragon about and dropping anchor, just out of arrow range. They were not complete fools. He had to win her over, and swiftly.

“With me, you come before all others. Should you ask a similar sacrifice from me, I would not hesitate,” he promised her heartily.

“Really?” she queried him callously. “Even if it were Etta?”

“Without a pause,” he promised, refusing to let himself think.