Althea nodded slowly. Odd. She had known the terms of the bargain ever since she was old enough to be considered a woman, but somehow she had never applied it to herself. Her father had been a wonderful trader; he had always seen that there was money in the household to discharge their just debts. Now that her brother-in-law Kyle was in charge of the family's liveship and finances, who could say how things would go? Her sister's husband had never liked her. The last time they had been in the same room, in that final spectacular family argument, he had said it was her duty to marry well and stop being a burden on the family. Perhaps that was exactly what he had been hinting: that if she went willingly to a Rain Wild man, the family could enjoy a lessening of their debt.

Ever since she was a tiny child, her duties to her family's honor had been impressed upon her. A Bingtown Trader paid his debts and kept his word. No matter what their personal disagreements might be, when threatened by outsiders, the Traders closed ranks and endured. Those ties of kinship and duty included the Traders who had chosen to remain behind in the Rain Wilds and settle there. Distance and years might have separated them, but the Rain Wild Traders were still kin to the Bingtown Traders. Contracts with them were honored, and the duties of family were respected. She felt something inside her go hard and cold with purpose. If Kyle failed in the Vestrit family obligations, it would be her duty to offer herself. Fecundity was the one treasure the Rain Wild folk lacked. She would have to go to the Rain Wilds, take a husband there and bear children to him. It was what her forebears had promised, so long ago. Not to do so would be unthinkable. Nevertheless, to be forced into it by Kyle's malice or ineptitude was intolerable.

“Althea? Are you all right?”

Crag's voice broke in on her thoughts and brought her back to herself. She realized she was glaring at a bulkhead. She gave a small shake and turned to face him. “I came to ask your advice, actually. I'm having a bit of trouble with one of the deckhands. I can't decide if I should take it personally or not.”

The concerned look on Grag's face deepened. “Which one?”

“Feff.” Althea shook her head in mock frustration. “One moment he listens and steps lively when I give an order. The next, he'll look me straight in the face and stand there with a silly grin on his face. I don't know if he's mocking me, or . . .”

“Ah!” Grag grinned. “Feff's deaf. In his left ear. Oh, he will not admit it to anyone. It happened when he fell from the mast about two years ago. He hit the deck hard, and for a day or so, we thought he wasn't going to live. Eventually, he came out of it. He's a bit slower about some things than he used to be, and I don't send him aloft unless I have to. He doesn't seem to have the balance he once did. He can't always hear what you say, especially if he's to the right of you. Sometimes if the wind is blowing strong, he can't hear at all. He doesn't mean to be insubordinate . . . that's what the silly smile is about. Other than that, he's a good man, and he's been with the ship a long time. It wouldn't be right to tie him up for that.”

“Ah.” Althea nodded to herself. “I wish someone had told me sooner,” she said a bit crossly.

“It's one of those things Da and I don't even think about anymore. It's just how the ship is. No one meant to make your job harder.”

“No, I didn't mean that,” Althea replied hastily. “Everyone has gone out of their way to make my tasks easier. I know that. It's wonderful to be back on board a liveship again, and even more wonderful to discover that I actually can do this job. My father's will and my quarrel with Kyle and Brashen's concerns all made me wonder if I really was competent.”

“Brashen's concerns?” Grag asked in a quietly leading voice.

Why had she said it? Where had her mind been? “Brashen Trell was my father's first mate on the Vivacia. After I signed aboard the Reaper, I found out he was part of her crew, too. When he discovered I was aboard as ship's boy . . . well. He had already made it plain to me back in Bingtown that he did not think I could cut it on my own.”

“So. What did he do? Tell the captain?” Grag asked when the silence had lengthened.

“No. Nothing like that. He was just . . . watchful. That's the word, I suppose. I had a tough time on that ship. Knowing he was watching me scrabble just to keep up made me feel . . . humiliated.”

“He had no right to do that to you,” Grag observed in a low voice. Two sparks of anger burned deep in his eyes. “Your father took him on when no one else would. He owes your family. The least he could have done was protect you rather than mock your efforts.”