It seemed to her that the boy took a very long time considering this. Were all priests so cautious about everything? “I will keep your secret,” he finally said. And she liked that about him. No vows or oaths, just the simple offering of his word. Through the palm of her hand, she felt the Vivacia respond with pleasure to her approval of him. Strange, that that should matter to the ship.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She took her courage in both hands, and hoped he would not think she was a fool. “Do you remember that day clearly? The day he knocked you down in the dining room?”

“Most of it,” the boy said softly. “The parts when I was conscious, anyway.”

“Do you remember what your father said? He swore by Sa, and said that if but one reputable captain would vouch for my seamanship, he'd give my ship back to me. Do you remember that?” She held her breath.

“I do,” Wintrow said quietly.

She put both hands to the ship's hull. “And would you swear by Sa that you heard him say those words?”

“No.”

Althea's dreams crashed down through their straw foundations. She should have known it. How could she ever have thought the boy would stand up to his father in a great matter as this? How could she have been so stupid?

“I would vouch that I heard him say it,” Wintrow went on quietly. “But I would not swear. A priest of Sa does not swear by Sa.”

Althea's heart soared. It would be enough, it would have to be enough. “You'd give your word, as a man, as to what he said,” she pressed.

“Of course. It's only the truth. But,” he shook his head down at her, “I don't think it would do you any good. If my father will not keep his word to Sa to give me up to the priesthood, why should he keep his word on an angrily sworn oath? After all, this ship is worth much more to him than I am. I am sorry to say this to you, Althea, but I think your hopes of regaining your ship that way are groundless.”

“You let me worry about that,” she said in a shaky voice. Relief was flowing through her. She had one witness, and she felt she could rely on him. She would say nothing to the boy of the Traders' Council and the power it held. She had entrusted him with enough of her secret. She would burden him with no more of it. “As long as I know you will vouch for the truth, that your father spoke those words, I have hope.”

He received these words in silence. For a time Althea just stood there, her hands on her silent ship. She could almost feel the boy through the ship. His desolation and loneliness.

“We sail tomorrow,” he said finally. There was no joy in his voice.

“I envy you,” Althea told him.

“I know you do. I wish we could change places.”

“I wish it were that simple.” Althea tried to set aside her jealousy.

“Wintrow. Trust the ship. She'll take care of you, and you take good care of her. I'm counting on both of you to watch out for each other.” She heard in her own voice the “doting relative” tone that she had always hated when she was young. She pushed it away, and spoke as if he were any young boy setting out on his maiden voyage. “I believe you'll grow to love this life and this ship. It's in your blood, you know. And if you do,” these words came harder, “if you do, and you are true to our ship, when I take her over, I'll make sure there's always a place for you aboard her. That is my promise to you.”

“Somehow I doubt I'll ever ask you to keep it. It's not that I don't like the ship, it's just that I can't imagine-”

“Who are you talking to, boy?” Torg demanded. His heavy feet thudded across the deck as Althea melted back into the ship's shadow. She held her breath. Wintrow wouldn't lie to Torg. She already knew that about him. And she couldn't stand by and let the boy take a beating for her, but she also couldn't risk Torg holding her for Kyle.

“I believe this is my hour with Wintrow,” Vivacia cut in sharply. “Who do you imagine he would be speaking to?”

“Is there someone on the docks down there?” Torg demanded. His bushy head was thrust out over the railing, but both the curve of Vivacia's hull and the deep shadow protected Althea. She held her breath.

“Why don't you haul your fat ass down there and see?” Vivacia asked nastily. Althea clearly heard Wintrow's gasp of astonishment. It was all she could do to keep from laughing. She sounded just like their cocky ship's boy, Mild, in one of his bolder moods.

“Yea? Well, maybe I'll just do that.”