“There was blood all over your coat. And the side of the gig.” Wintrow's stubborn words broke into his reverie and his dining.

Kennit sighed and set his spoon down. Wintrow was still staring at the wall, but his rigidity suggested that he was trying to control shaking. “The blood was not your father's. If you must know, it was Sa'Adar's.” Sarcasm crept into his voice. “Please don't tell me that you have revised your feelings about him as well.”

“You killed him because I hated him?” There was panicky disbelief in Wintrow's voice.

“No. I killed him because he would not do as I wanted him to do. He really left me no choice. His death is no loss to you. The man had only contempt for you and your father.” Kennit lifted his wine and drained off the glass. He held it out to Wintrow. The youth moved as jerkily as a puppet as he refilled the glass.

“And Ankle?” he dared to ask in a sickened voice.

Kennit slammed his glass to the table. Wine leaped out and soiled the white cloth. “Ankle is fine. They are all fine. Sa'Adar is the only one I killed, and I only killed him because I had to. I saved you the trouble of having to do it later for yourself. Do I look so foolish as to waste my time on unnecessary actions? I will not sit here and be badgered by a ship's boy! Clean up this mess, pour me fresh wine and then leave.” The look Kennit gave him had cowed many a larger man.

To the pirate's surprise, it suddenly kindled an answering spark in the boy's eyes. Wintrow straightened himself. Kennit sensed he had pushed the boy across some sort of boundary. Interesting. Wintrow advanced to the table and removed the food and the soiled cloth with a silent, savage efficiency. He restored it, carefully poured more wine, then spoke. He dared to let his anger sound in his voice. “Do not ever lay your deeds at my door. I do not kill people who inconvenience me. Sa gives life, and every life he forms has a meaning and a purpose. No man has the ability to understand fully Sa's purpose. Rather I must learn to tolerate those others until they have lived to fulfill Sa's purpose. I am a part of his intention for this world, but my part is no more important than anyone else's.”

Kennit had leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest while Wintrow tidied the table and preached. Now he sighed out through his nose. “That is because you are not destined to be a king.” A thought occurred to Kennit and he could not control his smirk. “Meditate on this, priest. Perhaps I am one of those you must learn to tolerate until I can fulfill Sa's purpose.” When the glower on Wintrow's face only darkened at this jest, Kennit laughed aloud. He shook his head. “You take yourself so seriously. Run along now. Go talk to the ship. I think you'll find her course aligns closer with mine than yours just now. I mean it. Run along. Send Etta to me on your way.”

Kennit whisked his hand at the door. He turned his attention back to his interrupted meal. The boy took his time about leaving and shut the door a bit loudly. Kennit shook his head. He was getting too fond of Wintrow and allowing him too many liberties. If Opal had taken that tone with him, he'd have worn stripes before sunset. He shrugged at his own leniency. That had always been one of his faults. He was too kind-hearted for his own good. He shook his head to himself and let his thoughts wander back to Key Island.

“WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME?” WINTROW DEMANDED. HIS UNRESOLVED anger at Kennit still roiled within him.

“I told you.” Vivacia reacted stubbornly to his tone. “You were weary and deeply asleep. I did not see any harm in what he was doing. You could not have stopped him anyway. So I saw no sense in waking you.”

“He must have come right up here to get Ankle. She was here when I fell asleep.” A sudden suspicion jabbed him. “Did he tell you not to wake me?”

“And if he did?” Vivacia asked, affronted. “What difference would it make? It was still my decision.”

Wintrow looked down at his feet. The depth of his hurt surprised him. “Once you would have been more loyal to me. You would have wakened me, whether you thought it was wise or not. You must have known I would have wanted that.”

Vivacia turned her head and looked out across the water. “I fail to see your point.”

“You even sound like him,” Wintrow said miserably.

His unhappiness spurred her more than his anger had. “What do you want me to say? That I am sorry Kyle Haven is gone? I am not. I have not known a moment of peace since he took command. I am glad that he is gone, Wintrow. Glad. And you should be glad, also.”

He was. That was the rub. Once she would have known that, but now she was so taken with the pirate, she considered only Kennit's view. “Do you need me anymore?” he asked her abruptly.