“I have nowhere to go.”

“Go buy something in town. Sorcor, give her some money.”

“I don't need money. All in Bull Creek know I am your woman, if I so much as look at anything, they push it into my arms and beg me to take it. But there is nothing I truly want, anywhere, save that you should get better.”

Kennit sighed heavily. “Sorcor. Please shut the door. With the woman on the other side of it.”

“No, I promise, please Kennit, I'll be quiet. Let me stay. You talk to him, then, Sorcor, reason with him, he'll listen to you. . . .”

She kept it up like a whining dog and all the while Sorcor was quite gently pushing her out of the room and latching the door behind her. Kennit would not have been so gentle if he'd been able to deal with her himself. That, of course, was the whole problem. She saw him as weak, now, and would try to get her will in everything. Ever since she'd tortured his prisoners, he'd suspected she enjoyed the idea of cutting up helpless men. He wondered if there were some way he could leave her in Bull Creek.

“And how are things in town?” Kennit asked Sorcor pleasantly as if he had just entered.

Sorcor just stared at him for a moment. Then he seemed to decide to humor Kennit. “Couldn't be better. Unless you'd come ashore and talk to the merchants yourself. They've all but begged that you come and be their guest. I already told you once. They saw our Raven flag coming into the harbor and turned out the whole town for us. Little boys were shouting your name from the docks, 'Captain Kennit, Captain Kennit.' I heard one tell another that when it came to pirates, you were better than Igrot the Terrible.”

Kennit startled, then made a sour face. “I knew Igrot when I was a lad. His reputation exaggerates him,” he said quietly.

“Still, that's something, when folk compare you to the man that burned twenty towns and-”

“Enough of my fame,” Kennit cut him off. “What of our business?”

“They've re-supplied us handsomely, and the Sicerna is already hove down for repair.” The burly pirate shook his head. “There's a lot of rot in her hull. I'm surprised the Satrap would entrust a gift's delivery to a rotten tub like that.”

“I doubt he inspected her hull,” Kennit suggested drily. “And they welcomed the new population we brought them?”

“With open arms. Last slave raid carried off the best smith in town. We've brought them two new ones. And the musicians and such are all the talk of the place. Three times now they acted out The Liberation of the Sicerna. Got a right handsome lad being you, and a great worm made of paper and silk and barrel hoops that comes right up. . . .” Sorcor's voice died away abruptly. “It's a real fancy show, sir. I don't think there's anyone in town who hasn't seen it.”

“Well. I am glad that the loss of my leg proved entertaining for so many.”

“Now that's not it, sir,” Sorcor began hastily, but Kennit waved him to silence.

“My liveship,” he announced.

“Oh, Sar,” Sorcor groaned.

“Did we not have an agreement?” Kennit asked him. “I believe we've just captured and liberated a slaveship. As I recall, it is now my turn to go after a liveship.”

Sorcor scratched at his beard. “That weren't quite the agreement, sir. It was that if we saw a slaver, we went after her. And then the next liveship we saw, we'd go after. But you're talking about hunting a liveship, or laying in wait for one.”

“It all amounts to the same thing,” Kennit dismissed his objection.

“No, begging your pardon, sir, but it don't. I've been giving it some thought, sir. Maybe we ought to lay off both for a time. Just go back to pirating like we used to. Go after some fat merchant ships, like we used to do. Get us some money, have some good times. Stay away from slavers and serpents for a while.” Sorcor's thick fingers fumbled with the gilt buttons on his vest as he offered this. “You've shown me life can be different than what I thought. For both of us. You got yourself a nice woman. She makes a real difference around here. I see now what you were trying to get me to understand. If we went back to Divvytown with a good haul, well, like Sincure Faldin was saying about being respectable and settled and all . . .”

“Once we have a liveship under us, you can have your choice of virgins, Sorcor,” Kennit promised him. “A new one each week, if that is what pleases you. But first, my liveship. Now. If we can assume that anything we learned from the Sicerna's crew is true, then it is likely we still have at least one liveship south of us still. Come and look at the chart with me. It seems to me that luck has placed us in a fine position. To the south of us, here, we have Hawser Channel. A nasty bit of water at any time, but especially at the change of tides. Any ship going north has to go through it. Do you see?”