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Captain Jamison puffed his chest out. “That’s an excellent idea. Anything that does not meet your standards should be either repaired at sea or our departure delayed. However, I believe you’ll find it all shipshape. Seeing The Rose like this again makes me want to sing.”

After his inspection, Tanner went to the cabin he and Carrion shared. While it was barely three steps in any direction, it was the largest passenger cabin on the ship. The Captain had offered his cabin to them, but in truth it was hardly bigger, and it was set up with only one bed and a built-in desk, so it was actually smaller.

Their cabin had two small beds, one above the other. It had floor anchors to tie down the trunks of goods or clothing. A fresh coat of paint covered the walls and stank up the cabin. The ceiling and floors were bare wood, freshly scrubbed. A tiny porthole provided a stab of light and a method to see the weather before dressing. Too bad it didn’t open to provide fresh air. They left the door open to allow some of the fresh-paint smell to escape.

Carrion said, “We have things to discuss, but once we sail there will be ample time. Want to go stir the pot?”

“Which pot? And how do we stir it?”

“The Far Seeker pot. I was thinking of walking along the pier and taking inventory of the ship, pointing and discussing what I see.”

Tanner shrugged. “Your purpose?”

“To irritate. Those on the ship will see me. Someone will send for Captain Brice, and maybe he’ll offer us a tour of his fine, black ship. But most likely he will wish to know what I’m pointing at and discussing. He may even engage me in conversation.”

“That sounds like a pot that I’d enjoy stirring.” Tanner climbed from the edge of the bed to his feet and straightened his tunic. “After you.”

They strolled to the deck, speaking to a couple of crewmen in passing and went down the gangplank and across the pier. Tanner saw more than one set of eyes on them, but he ignored them. They stood near the stern.

Carrion pointed near the waterline as if he’d spotted something. He leaned closer to Tanner and said, “We’re being watched.”

Tanner laughed. A crewman leaned far out over a railing to see what he found funny. Carrion moved further along the hull, examining the ship in detail and discussing it softly with Tanner, although they came from the highlands and knew little about ships.

Tanner pointed out that the ship had been recently painted, the metal gleamed, and it had an air about it of orderliness that bordered on the military. The crew all looked like soldiers who knew how to sail instead of sailors who know how to fight, which seemed odd. Even odder was that Carrion figured it out, too.

“Is there something you’re looking at?” Captain Brice’s harsh voice sounded from the main deck.

Carrion and Tanner looked up. He was close enough to hold a conversation in a normal voice. Carrion said, louder than necessary, “You already know that we’re the owners of The Rose. As a courtesy to a fellow investor and business competitor, would you extend an invitation for us to board and tour the Far Seeker?”

Tanner almost choked at Carrion’s audacity. He fought to hold his face impassive.

Captain Brice was taken back at the request. He shook his head and snarled, “Why would you want to tour my ship? So that you can try to duplicate it?”

Carrion shook his head, “No, Captain. When the proper time arrives, I wish to offer you a fair price for her.”

“You aren’t coming about this ship unless it’s in chains.”

“Well, that’s unexpected and downright unfriendly,” Carrion snorted, doing his best to hold back his laughter.

Captain Brice recovered his wits and stood taller. “I guess I should thank you for outfitting my newest ship in my fleet. One way or another I’ll soon own The Rose.”

Tanner saw several more crewmen had appeared behind Captain Brice, all wearing smirks, but some were not as confident as they had been. He glanced at The Rose and found, at least, half that crew watching. Carrion was indeed stirring the pot.

Carrion placed his hands on his hips and stepped closer to the edge of the pier while looking right into the eyes of Captain Brice. He lowered his voice and spoke directly to him, but all could hear the words. “Sir, I do not mean to be disagreeable, but I do have some say in the matter. What I say is that a black ship like yours looks like it lost an engagement and burned. When I own the Far Seeker, it will be painted so white it will blind a person in the sunlight.”

“You own the Far Seeker?” Captain Brice shouted, throwing his head back and laughing.

Carrion flashed a brilliant smile and waited before answering in a soft, but confident tone. “Count on it, Captain. Then I will sink it in the middle of the harbor for all to see.”

Tanner felt Carrion take his arm and turn him so his back was to the shouting Captain Brice, crewmen, and ship. They crossed the pier at a slow stroll, another insult as they refused to acknowledge anything shouted behind them. The crew of The Rose laughed and cheered.

Captain Jamison met them at the top of the gangplank. His expression was dour, and his eyes shielded. He only said, “Really?”

Carrion saluted and replied, “Sorry sir. It was necessary.”

Devlin snorted his laughter, then spun and darted off before the Captain could see who it was. Others hid smiles or giggles by turning their heads. As they walked by him, Tanner saw the glint of humor in the Captain Jamison’s eyes, although he tried to maintain the stern expression.

At their cabin, Carrion said, “I believe our work is finished for the day.”

Tanner climbed into his bunk as he reviewed the confrontation in his mind. In the end, just before falling asleep, he muttered, “Yes, it is. This was a good day.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tanner and Carrion woke to the shouting of orders and the running of feet on the wooden decks of the ship. As they climbed from their beds, Carrion mumbled about how he couldn’t tell if it was day or night except by peering out of the tiny porthole. Normally early risers, both were surprised to see bright sunlight streaming inside.

The cabin shifted. It tilted to one side, and surged ahead, causing both to grab for anything solid to maintain their balance. The cabin continued to tilt. Near the door stood two longbows and quivers of arrows.

They made their way to the open deck and found the ship was tilted to one side as a brisk wind pinned it there. Whitecaps turned the blue of the water into a green-gray. The sails were stretched taut, and crewmen hurried about their duties.

First mate, Fisher approached, saluted, and said, “The Captain will see you in his cabin at your convenience.”

Tanner said, “Thank you. I have a quick question. How’s Devlin doing? He’s sort of our responsibility.”

Fisher nodded. “He was born to the sea, and to be a leader. This time, next year he’ll either be the best sailor on this ship or be the first mate on another.”

The Captain’s door was standing open, but Carrion still knocked. There was a chart spread in front of him.

“Come in and make yourselves comfortable. The cook will be right up.”

Tanner sat, forced to sit on one edge of the chair to keep himself upright. The movement of the ship from bow to stern was not the problem. The ship leaned to one side and everything not secure slid to that side of the ship. The mug at the Captain’s side threatened to spill from one edge.

“Is it always like this?” Tanner asked.

Captain Jamison chuckled. “Six gods dancing, that’s funny. Sometimes it leans to the other side.”