"I'd rather sell the Erce. When Ysanne came back what did she do?"
"Stayed in her cabin."
Brooding, sulking, seething with rage. An anger which had finally destroyed the pillow and sent her storming from the ship. Too long a wait if she'd found a new berth on the Nairn.
"What are we to do, Earl?"
"Find her." Dumarest looked at the captain. "What else?"
She was in a tavern close to the field, a rough place with tamped dirt for a floor and stained beams supporting a sagging roof. One used by spent-out spacers and the scum always to be found near the fence. Men who sat in shadowed corners, watching, harlots studying the market, pimps looking for prey. At a table Yssane sat with two men. From her eyes Dumarest knew she was far from sober.
He said, bluntly, "I've come to take you back."
"Go to hell!"
"Get up and-"
"No!" She looked at the man to her right. "Tell him, Brad."
"That's right, Captain, tell him." The man to her left was big, confident in his strength, sardonically amused. His eyes, beneath heavy brows, held the feral anticipation of a tiger.
Dumarest looked at him, at the table, the mugs it carried, the bottles. Three were empty. Wine stained the bottoms of the thick, earthenware beakers.
He said, "Tell me what?"
"You've lost your navigator," said the captain. "I've given her a berth on the Gora. We leave at dawn." He leaned back, smiling, his left hand resting on the table, his right below the edge and out of sight. "I'm Brad Dwyer. That is Shiro. We know about you."
"Not enough," said Dumarest. "Or you'd know you're not going to get away with this."
"You're going to stop me?" Dwyer shrugged. "Tell him, Ysanne."
"I've quit," she said. "You, the Erce, the whole damned thing. I told Andre that. I'm leaving and there isn't a damned thing you can do about it."
"You've a share in the ship. We're partners."
"Not any longer. You can have it all. Now get the hell out of here and leave me alone!"
"You heard the lady." Shiro rested both hands on the table and made to rise to his feet. "Beat it-or do I have to break both your arms?"
Dumarest moved as the man heaved himself to his feet, reaching for the mug he had noted, sending it to smash against Shiro's temple. As the beaker splintered he was around the table, knife glinting in his right hand, the edge coming to rest against the captain's throat.
"Your hand," he said. "Your right hand-show it!"
Dwyer heaved, froze as the razor-edge sliced skin.
"Your hand," said Dumarest. "I won't ask again."
The captain lifted his hand, the gun it had held falling to the dirt of the floor. He said carefully, "There's no need for more. You've made your point."
"You don't want her?"
"I've a full complement." Dwyer gasped his relief as Dumarest moved the knife. He dabbed as his neck and looked at the blood staining his hand. "Fast," he said. "Too damned fast. I didn't even see you move."
"This over?"
"Hell, yes! No woman's worth that much. You could have killed me." The captain touched his throat again. "A fighter." he said, bitterly. "She had to be mixed up with a fighter. Well, I made a mistake. It happens."
"And you leave at dawn?"
"At dawn." Dwyer looked at Ysanne. "Without her."
Back in the Erce Ysanne threw her bag on the slashed pillow and said, "Property! You treated me as if you owned me! Damn you, Earl, no man does that!"
"We made a bargain. You're keeping to it."
"Shares in the ship and to guide you to Earth. Some bargain!" She glared at the pills he handed to her. "What's this for?"
"You're drunk."
"Like hell I am!" She swayed and almost fell; then, from the support of Dumarest's arm, said, "Did you have to cut him? Brad seemed decent to me."
"Would he have let you go otherwise?"
"No, I guess not." With a sudden reversal of emotion she giggled. "He was right about the way you moved, though. God, I bet he was surprised. And Shiro-that mug hit him like a bomb. He'll have a hell of an ache when he wakes up."
"So will you unless you get these down." Dumarest pushed the pills into her mouth, followed them with water, holding her lips closed with the pressure of his hand, then he relaxed as she swallowed. "Better?"
"I will be."
"What made you do it? Why run?"
"Do you care?" Then, as he made no answer, she said, "I was trying to help and you made me feel like dirt. Then, later, I heard about what happened in the Mart. That bitch you rescued. The high-born slut who took you back home so as to give you your reward." Her hand rose to touch his bitten mouth. "I see she was generous."
"You see all she gave."
"A disappointment. You hoped for more?"
"Of course."
"Earl-"
"Not what you're thinking." He touched the wound sharp teeth had made. "The gratitude of princes-I hope to collect."
"From her?"
"From Vruya. The head of her Family."