The captain's chair creaked as he leaned back in it. “We take more notice of most things than the men aboard suspect. With this large of a crew, and half of them jail scrapings, I depend on my ship's officers to watch closely, to see who is worth his salt and who isn't.” He cocked his head at her. “You came on at Bingtown as a ship's boy. We'd like to keep you on, Athel.”

“Thank you, sir.” And no offer of a raise in either pay or status? So much for Brashen's good word.

“That suits you, then?”

She took a breath. Her father had always preferred honesty in his men. She'd try it here. “I'm not sure, sir. The Reaper's a fine ship, and I've no complaint against her. But I've been thinking I'd like to make my way back to Bingtown, and get there sooner than the Reaper would take me. What I'd like to do, sir, is take my pay and my ticket now, but stay aboard her and work as long as she's in port. And if I didn't find another berth before the Reaper sailed, perhaps I could stay aboard her after all.”

So much for honesty. The captain's look had darkened. Plainly he believed he'd made her a fair bid in offering to keep her on. He wasn't pleased that she'd consider looking about for a better one. “Well. You've a right to your pay and your ticket, of course. But as to your maybe, perhaps attitude, well, we set a great store on loyalty to the ship. Plainly you think you could do better elsewhere.”

“Not better, no sir. The Reaper's a fine vessel, sir, a fine vessel. I was just hoping to find one that would take me home a bit sooner.”

“A sailor's home is his vessel,” Captain Sichel observed heavily.

“Home port is what I meant, sir,” Althea amended weakly. Plainly she was not handling this well.

“Well. Let's tally you out and pay you off. And I'll give you your ticket as well, for I've no quarrel with the job you did. But I won't have you idling about my deck and hoping for a better position. The Reaper is scheduled to sail within the month. If you come back before we up anchor and want your position back, well, we'll see. It may be filled easily, you know.”

“Yessir.” She bit her lip to keep from saying more. As the captain totted up her pay and bonus and counted it out to her, she gave him marks for his own honesty. Blunt and merciless as he had been, he still counted out her correct pay, down to the last copper shard. He passed it to her, and while she pocketed it, he took up a ship's tag and with mallet and stamp drove the Reaper's mark into it. He wiped ink over it to make it stand out better, and then took up a leather scribing tool. “Full name?” he asked casually.

Odd, the places where the world caught up with one. Somehow she had never foreseen this moment. She took a breath. It had to be in her name, or it would be worth nothing at all. “Althea Vestrit,” she said quietly.

“That's a girl's name,” the captain complained as he began to carve the letters into the ticket.

“Yessir,” she agreed quietly.

“What in Sa's name made your parents hang a girl's name on you?” he asked idly as he started on the “Vestrit.”

“I suppose they liked it, sir,” she answered. Her eyes didn't leave his hands as he carefully scored the letters into the leather. A ship's ticket, and all the proof she needed to make Kyle keep his oath and give her back her ship. The scribing hand slowed, then halted. The captain looked up and met her eyes. A frown deepened on his face. “Vestrit. That's a Trader name, isn't it?”

Her mouth was suddenly dry. “Yes-” she began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

He swung his attention to his first mate. “Vestrits had that ship, what was her name? A liveship?”

The mate shrugged, and Captain Sichel turned back to her sharply. “What was the ship's name?”

“The Vivacia” Althea said quietly. Pride crept into her voice whether she willed it or no.

“And the captain's daughter worked the deck alongside the crew,” Captain Sichel said slowly. He stared at her hard. “You're that girl, aren't you?” His voice was hard now, the words an accusation.

She held herself very straight. “Yessir.”

He flung the carving implement down in disgust. “Get her off my ship!” he snapped at the first.

“I'll go, sir. But I need that ticket,” Althea said as the mate advanced on her. She stood her ground. She wasn't going to shame herself by fleeing from him now.

The captain gave a snort of disgust. “You'll get no ticket from me, not with my ship's stamp on it! Do you think I'll let you make me the mock of the slaughter fleet? Shipped a woman aboard all season and never even knew it? That would be a fine laugh on me! I ought to shake your pay out of your pockets for such a lie. No wonder we had such troubles with serpents, worse than we ever had before. Everyone knows a woman aboard a ship draws serpents. We're damn lucky we got here alive, no thanks to you. Get her out of here!” This last he bellowed at his mate, whose expression showed he shared his captain's opinion.