The girl was in on it. Althea grasped that instantly, and spurred by her pain, she struck the tavern maid in the face as hard as she could with her left hand. It was not her best punch, but the girl seemed shocked as much as hurt. Clutching at her face, she staggered back with a scream as Althea spun to face the man beside the door. “You heartless little bastard!” the man spat, and swung at her. Althea ducked it and sprang for the door behind him. She managed to pull it part way open. “Crimpers!” she shouted with every bit of breath in her body. A white flash of light knocked her to the floor.

Voices came back first. “One from the Tern, the one they've been looking for. He was tied up in the beer cellar. One from the Carlyle, and these two from the Reaper. Plus it looks like there's a couple more out back with some earth scraped over them. Probably hit them too hard. Tough way for a sailor to go.”

There was a shrug in the second voice that replied, “Well, tough is true, but we never seem to run out of them.”

She opened her eyes to overturned tables and benches. Her cheek was in a puddle of something; she hoped it was beer. Men's legs and boots were in front of her face, close enough to step on her. She tipped her head to look up at them. Townsmen wearing heavy leathers against the storm's chill. She pushed against the floor. On her second try she managed to sit up. The movement set the room to rocking before her.

“Hey, the boy's coming round,” a voice observed. “What did you hit Pag's girl for, you sot?”

“She was the bait. She's in on it,” Althea said slowly. Men. Couldn't they even see what was right in front of their faces?

“Maybe, maybe not,” the man replied judiciously. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.” She clutched at an overturned chair and managed to get to her feet. She was dizzy and felt like throwing up. She touched the back of her head cautiously, then looked at her red fingers. “I'm bleeding,” she said aloud. No one seemed greatly interested.

“Your mate's still in there,” the man in boots told her. “Better get him out of there and back to your ship. Pag's plenty mad at you for punching his daughter. Didn't no one ever teach you any manners about women?”

“Pag's in on it, too, if it's going on in his back room and beer cellar,” Althea pointed out dully.

“Pag? Pag's run this tavern for ten years I know about. I wouldn't be saying such wild things if I were you. It's your fault all his chairs and tables are busted up, too. You aren't exactly welcome here any more.”

Althea squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them. The floor seemed to have steadied. “I see,” she told the man. “I'll get Brashen out of here.” Obviously Nook was their town, and they'd run it as they saw fit. She was lucky the tavern had been full of other sailors who weren't fond of crimpers. These two townsmen didn't seem overly upset about how Pag made his extra money. She wondered. If there wasn't a knot of angry sailors still hovering near the fire, would they be letting her and Brashen go even now? She'd better get while the going was good.

She staggered to the door of the back room and looked in. Brashen was sitting up on the bed, his head bowed into his hands. “Brash?” she croaked.

“Althea?” he replied dazedly. He turned toward her voice.

“It's Athel!” she asserted grumpily. “And I'm getting damn tired of being teased about my name.” She reached his side and tugged uselessly at his arm. “Come on. We got to get back to the ship.”

“I'm sick. Something in the beer,” he groaned. He lifted a hand to the back of his head. “And I think I was sapped, too.”

“Me, too.” Althea leaned closer to him and lowered her voice.

“But we've got to get out of here while we can. The men outside the door don't seem too upset about Pag's crimping. The sooner we're out of here, the better.”

He caught the idea quickly, for one as bleary as he looked. “Give me your shoulder,” he ordered her, and staggered upright. She took his arm across her shoulders. Either he was too tall or she was too short for it to work properly. It almost felt as if he was deliberately trying to push her down as they staggered out of the back room and then through the tavern to the door. One of the men at the fireside nodded to them gravely, but the two townsmen merely watched them go. Brashen missed a step as they went down the stairs and they both nearly fell into the frozen muck of the street.

Brashen lifted his head to stare into the wind and rain. “It's getting colder.”