"I enlist only volunteers," said Magfire. "Like you, Adira. Then when the going gets hard, they've only themselves to blame. It cuts down the bellyaching."

"Well put." But the pirate queen's mind drifted, already charting their next course. She wondered what transpired in Palmyra and Bryce, and what Hazezon Tamar did.

She mused aloud, "Say your good-byes while you may. We shan't linger long."

Sighing, Adira clapped Magfire's knee. "Some good comes of this suffering. It's lucky we met the people of the pines. Luckier we became allies. With Johan loose, all of Jamuraa will be engulfed in his madness before long. That's my prophecy."

Strength sagging, Adira laid back on pine needles and watched stars wink on in a perfect autumn night. Worry later, she decided. She had work still.

Sitting up, Adira announced, "Jedit Ojanen, I appoint you lieutenant of the Robaran Mercenaries."

"Me?" The dozing tiger crooked his neck, looking so puzzled that everyone laughed.

"It's your own fault." Adira kept a straight face, but her eyes twinkled. "You've proven capable in combat and even at taking command when needed. You've saved every life here a dozen times. What d'ya say?"

"I say…" Jedit coiled upright. In evening firelight, his amber-green eyes sparkled like emeralds. "Thank you. I'm sure my father would be proud."

"He would. All your homeland shall be. You'll see." Adira cleared her throat. Damn sentimentality, she thought. "For the rest of you moss-back turtle-thumpers, while we wait on supper, drag out your blades and hone a fine edge. Wherever we go, we'll need three things for certain. Good beef, good ale, and sharp steel!"