"What?" the heavy magician shouted up from the main deck.

"Can you manage a weather spell? I could use a nice steady wind a bit off the port bow. We can sail closer to the wind than they can."

"Dunno. Those spells are bastards, especially if there's magicians on the other side, and I'm still studying. But I'll try."

"Steer a little to port," Gareth ordered the helmsman. "We'll run before the wind till we close on land."

He thought of telling the watch quartermaster to be wary of steering close and being taken aback, then caught himself. The sailor was experienced and knew that if that happened, the Linyati might be down on them in less than a glass.

Thom Tehidy came close, so as not to be overheard. "Interesting the Slavers hit Dafflemere's ship, then came after us. Far as I know, Dafflemere and Labala are the only magicians a-pirating around here."

"You're thinking their wizards sense our magic, and track us?"

"I'm not thinking anything," Tehidy said. "I'm just worrying."

"Let's hope you're wrong," Gareth said, "and they're merely after us because we look organized."

"Let's hope," Tehidy agreed. "And as long as we're hoping, let's think good thoughts about being able to outsail them."

Two turnings of the glass later, and hope was running short: The Linyati ships, their triple lateen sails full, were closing, the lead ship not half a dozen cannonshots distant.

Labala's weather spell had not, so far, begun to work, although the weather had begun to worsen, the onshore wind gusting, and the seas choppy, which slowed down the less handy Linyati a bit.

But the Naijak was falling astern, in spite of all possible sail clapped on its two remaining masts.

Within another two glasses, it'd be within range of the Linyati. And then a He was still watching the Naijak when he saw its foremast sway, crack, and fall, carrying all sails overboard. The ship rolled, out of control. He saw men with axes swarm the welter of canvas, wood, lines, trying to cut away the debris.

"Dismasted," Tehidy said. "She's done."

Gareth nodded absently, thought a moment, made a decision, thought he was a softheaded fool.

"Put her about," he said. "We're going back to take off her men. If we can."

Tehidy looked at Gareth, started to say something, then began shouting orders.

The hands stood, stupefied, then moved to obey. Except for one man, who came to the foot of the quarterdeck ladder.

"Cap'n, what the hells are you doing?"

"Saving some shipmates."

"Screw them! They barely even signed th' Articles. What about our own asses?"

"Would you want someone to leave you for the Slavers?"

The man hesitated, heard the growls from his shipmates.

"Awright," he said. "We'll do it. But you'd best get away with it a Captain."

Gareth ordered signals hoisted to the other ships, telling them to steer north-northeast, making for Lyrawise, Juterbog's capital, as they'd agreed.

He'd catch up as he could, when he could.

"Labala! Get me some kind of casting on that Linyati a uncontrollable itching or desperate fear or pubic lice."

"I'll try."

Gareth was pleased with his crew's steadiness, hearing laughter at his command.

He ordered new signals hoisted to the Naijak, then there was little to do for some minutes except remember his geometry. He calculated the closing triangle between the Steadfast, the Naijak and the forward-most Linyati.

"Main guns, load chainshot," he called. "Bow and stern chasers, load grape. Gun captains, we're going alongside the Naijak on her port side. Sta'board guns, shoot high when you've got something to shoot at. We want to dismast that first one if we can. Port, when we clear the Naijak, pick the same targets.

"You men in the bow and stern, sweep me their quarterdeck if you have a chance!"

The Naijak was close, and, beyond her, the Linyati.

"Grapnel men to the rail," Gareth shouted, then ran to the rail with his speaking trumpet.

"Ahoy the Naijak! I'm coming alongside to take you off! Bring what you can carry, no more!"

Petrich, on the quarterdeck, shouted something back, which was lost in the wind. More minutes rushed past, and the other ship was very near.

"Stand by to back the helm," he ordered. "Thom, back all sails and have your grapnel men ready to throw."

"Aye, sir," and the Naijak was looming close on them, its rail about three feet above those of the Steadfast.

"Let go!" Tehidy shouted, and three grapnels arced through the air, dug into the Naijak, their ropes quickly lashed around bitts, and they were tight with the cripple.

The first Naijak hand appeared, teetering on his railing. He was carrying a bar of gold in each hand, a cutlass stuck in his waistband.

"Come on!" someone shouted, and the man jumped, then a stream of sailors followed, all laden with treasure snatched from the hold of the doomed ship, none worrying about inconsequentia like their gear or provisions.

Gareth heard shouts, turned, saw the Linyati ship round the stern of the Naijak. Its guns boomed, and three balls whistled across the Steadfast. Someone was hit, and screamed, the scream cut short.

The Steadfast's main guns couldn't bear yet, nor did the bow guns have a target, the Linyati stern blocked by the Naijak.

Gareth saw two of the Naijak's officers, then Petrich, leap down onto his ship. The grapnel men, not needing orders, cut the grapnel ropes, and the Steadfast was free, just as the two swivel guns in the bow had a target.

They banged, and grape swept the Linyati quarterdeck. The helmsman and a man beside him pitched sideways and fell.

The Linyati guns slammed again, and the Steadfast reeled, taking solid hits just above the waterline.

Then Gareth's main guns bore, and they crashed. The mainmast of the Linyati broke, fell overside, then, from nowhere, the little Goodhope swept in, and fired a broadside from its light guns, well aimed, that smashed into the Linyati gundeck.

"Reload, grape," someone shouted, and the Steadfast's guns went off again. The Linyati, hit hard, heeled, its helm over, and turned away from the battle.

"All sail," Gareth shouted. "And below, Thom, with three men, and report on the damage."

"Aye, sir."

"Then pick our best hands and make repairs," but Tehidy was gone.

They were in the clear, and Gareth saw the other four Linyati closing. He had his trumpet up, shouting to the Goodhope, "Thanks!"

Dihr, not needing any assistance, bellowed back: "We pay our debts," just as his popguns went off again, and more Linyati dropped aboard the warship.

Then something strange happened aboard the Slaver, as their crewmen looked away from the two pirates, seemed to see something on their port, and shouted warnings. A gun went off, firing into emptiness.

That could only be Labala's spell.

Tehidy was back on the bridge.

"Everything looks above the waterline, Gareth, and as long as you don't heel over too sharp, we won't take on much water. The carpenter said he'll have the holes patched in a watch, maybe two."

Gareth took a moment, breathing the sharp air of the wind coming across the bows, feeling life surge through him; he noticed Petrich beside him.

"Thanks, Captain," he said. "I didn't expect a" "

"Forget it," Gareth said. "I'm just sorry to see all that gold go to the sea bottom."

"Forget the gold," Petrich said. "We can always steal more of it, being still alive, can't we?"

"Alive we are," Gareth agreed. "And let's try to stay that way. But I could use some of your hands below, repairing the damage."

"You've got them," and Petrich hurried away. Labala came out from below.

"I couldn't give you a weather spell," Labala said. "But I magicked you a couple of monsters, even though they're most likely fangless."

"That was what the Linyati were screaming about and shooting at?"

"Surely was. I modeled them after Dafflemere's beasts, the ones we saw when we first sailed into Freebooter's Island. Thought maybe you'd prefer them to crabs, eh?"

"Good," Gareth approved.

Labala breathed heavily. "Poor damned Dafflemere. Now we'll never be able to repay that favor we owe him."

Gareth nodded somberly.

"I just wish I could've come up with a good storm," Labala said. "I need to do more studyin'."

He slumped off the quarterdeck.

A sailor's head appeared at the top of the maindeck ladder, the same one who'd questioned his orders.

"Cap'n? Sorry I said what I said."

"Don't worry about it."

"You've got battle luck," the man said. "Real battle luck."

"Tell me that when we find the others," Gareth said, a bit uncomfortably. "We've still got four of the Slavers after us."

"Aarh, the hells with *em," the sailor said confidently. "We'll lose *em in a watch."

But by nightfall the four Linyati were still there, as the swells grew higher and the wind sharpened. Just at dusk, the lookout aloft reported sail dead ahead, and they were closing on the rest of the Company, their progress slowed by the unhandy Freedom.

a a a The next day, the wind and waves had worsened, but the wind stayed generally from the east, so they weren't being driven back on their pursuers nor toward Kashi. The squalls kept the seamen busy, blowing in a fan shape, so the sails required constant trimming.

Gareth was able to exchange occasional communication with his three other ships. Some of the crew wanted to go about and sail down on the warships, given even odds.

"No," Gareth said decisively. "It'd be not quite one to one, considering how small the Goodhope is. And with our cargo, we're not as maneuverable as we should be. Even if we sank them, we'd still lose members of the Company."

Someone muttered that the shares'd be that much larger, but he said it with a smile.

Gareth went up to the masthead at least twice a watch. Slowly his ships were pulling away from the shallow-drafted Linyati.

But they still kept up the pursuit.

a a a Labala had talked to every man in the crew, asking him what was the first thought, that came, after fear, when a storm hit.

When it was Gareth's turn, he thought, then said, "How much saltier the air is when the wind blows spume up from the water."

Labala thanked him, scribbled on his tablet in the writing he'd half learned from Dafflemere, went on.

Later that watch Gareth was below, making sure the patchwork on the hull was holding. On his way back topside, he passed by the small compartment the crew had rigged for Labala as his own quarters a" less, Labala told Gareth later with a snicker, "due to respect than they're *feared I'll mistake a spell and there'll be nothing but mice scurryin' about the deck."

The curtain was open, and Gareth glanced in. Labala had a large candle and was muttering words, sprinkling incense into its flame then blowing it out. He'd relight it, mumble, and blow it out again.

Gareth, having no idea what Labala was doing, and being, like most sensible people, leery of anything resembling wizard's business, went on his way.

a a a "I relieve you, sir," Petrich said.

"No," Gareth said. "I'm still doing fine."

"You've been on the quarterdeck for three straight watches," Petrich said firmly. "What reserves'll you have left if the Linyati suddenly come on us?"

Gareth realized Petrich was right.

"Only long enough to freshen up," he said, feeling the repressed fatigue come to in a wave, hitting him in the knees and back.

"That, and have something to eat, and get your head down. I promise I'll call you at the changing of the watch."

"Or if anything a" and I mean anything a" happens."

"Very well," Petrich said. "Oh. One other thing, if I can take a moment."

"Go ahead."