"There is a way across the desert and the mountains from Port Tinarana. It comes out near where you found us," Keilin said quietly.
Cap looked at him in surprise. "How the hell do you know that, boy? There used to be . . . maybe two hundred years ago. A little river you could follow . . . I forget its name . . ."
"Syrah."
"So it was! Well, well. I wonder where you heard about that from? Doesn't really matter, I suppose. The river is dry, and no one goes that way any more."
"Beg your pardon, sir," said Keilin cautiously, "but I did. And I can take you across the desert and into the Tyn States by the back door, where no one will be looking for us."
Cap's eyes narrowed. "Beywulf. You've been to Tinarana in the last fifteen years, when you were hiring out down in Ebrek. Ask this boy about the place. Show me he's really been there. He's inclined to be a bloody little liar."
"He's lived there, Cap. He knows the food too well to be lying about it. But if he knows the answer to this, you can bet on it. Keilin, what do the locals call that posh eatery on Deale Street with the red doors?"
Keilin couldn't help grinning. "The ring of fire."
"Why?"
"The meat's usually at least on the turn, if it's not from the town cats, so the proprietor makes up for it with lots of those little red bird's-eye chili peppers . . . the really white-hot kind. Most customers end up with the trots, if they're lucky, with the peppers still burning on the way out. No local would ever eat there."
Bey chuckled. "I got caught good. One of the other guards was from Port T. He told me about its local name when he heard my swearing from the heads. The boy's been there all right."
"And he dresses and behaves like the desert. Yet we found him on the other side of the mountains. Hmm. Boy, you've got yourself a job. Now you go and tell that bloody prig of a captain where he's taking us," ordered Cap.
"Why me? I mean, he won't listen to me. I . . . I don't think he wants me up on the bridge," said Keilin, alarmed.
Cap smiled. It was not a kind smile. "Three reasons, boy. Because I've told you to, because you got us into this shit in the first place, and because if I go up there I'll probably wring his scrawny neck. Now get."
So Keilin got.
Despite his nervousness, his reception on the bridge was cordial. He even drew a wintry smile from the captain. To his relief, Captain Barrow was not there. He still didn't want to look the man in the eye. He found that the skipper listened with unusual care to him, and that his request to put ashore at Port Tinarana was also well received.
"We'll have to put in to Port Lockry first, of course."
"Surely, but . . . why? I . . . I need a reason to tell Cap," he hastily explained.
This drew a definite smile. "Tell him we need to reprovision and offload Hedda's crew. Actually, I want to load cargo, and make it a more profitable trip. We're sailing empty now because I thought we'd have to run, and run fast. But around there should be safe enough. Or how do you feel about it?"
Keilin didn't pretend not to understand. "I'm sorry, sir. It only happens every now and again. I can't predict your future. I wish I could even predict my own."
The captain laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Good enough, son. It's not any easy thing that you have. We'll sail to Port Tinarana. All I ask is that you try to keep that arrogant master of yours off my bridge"—he gave a small shudder—"and that shaven-headed enforcer of yours. But you can come up anytime."
* * *
One of the other results of fishing the Hedda's crew out of the sea, was that cabin space had to be reshuffled to make room for them, especially those who had to be nursed. Shael found herself having to share quarters with Leyla. It was a small cubbyhole of a place, with two bunks, a sea chest and little else. Shael burned with resentment, of course, and when angry she could never keep a still tongue in her head. She was subjecting Leyla to a diatribe on the injustice of it all when the sultry woman threw a question that she was not prepared to field.
"So why's the boyfriend so miserable?" she said.
There was silence.
"You want me to get out of the cabin for a while, to give the two of you a bit of . . . privacy?" Leyla continued.
"We're not . . . I mean I don't know what you mean, or who you're talking about." Shael said, defensive tones creeping into her voice.
Amusement showed in Leyla's half smile. "I know you're not sleeping with him. But you're always trying to manipulate him. I was just surprised. I always find men much easier to steer when I've got them by the balls."
It was bluntly said, but it struck home. Shael blushed redly, and spoke in a moment of honesty. "I tried." Then the anger, embarrassment, and embitterment of it all made her burst out. "I asked him! I offered myself to him. And he turned me down! Me! And now he's been sleeping with some fat old woman while we were in that horrible harbor town. I hate him!"