This was only the opening movement, though. There had to be much more to come. Somewhere, the malign being that had put the invasion together was planning and plotting. Oghma granted Pacys the intelligence to know that, just as he was sure the rest of Waterdeep's leaders must be thinking the same thing: what had been gained here tonight? The city had stood.

He shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to understand everything yet. He trusted that he'd be guided further.

Looking around, he saw the faces of the men as they gave aid to the wounded, gave comfort to the dying, and made peace with the dead. It was hard, harsh work, and would leave more scars than physical wounds ever would.

Pacys wished he had his yarting, but it was back at the Font of Knowledge. Still, he didn't let the lack of an instrument stop him. He sang a cappella, his voice sweet and true as it flowed over the galley's deck and out into the harbor. The song was an original of his that he called "Bind My Wounds and Fill My Heart." It had been written on a battlefield, conceived in the heat of war, and nurtured to fruition that same night as so many fought their final battle with death and lost.

As he sang he found that the song gave him strength and relief as well. A few of the men even knew the song and joined him on the chorus.

There was nothing, he knew, that would ever take away the losses that Waterdeep had suffered tonight.

"You don't have to do that."

Jherek looked up and spotted Breezerunner's ship's mage looking down at him. He hung down the side of the ship from two ropes, trussed up in a leather harness, using a barnacle spade to work on the ship's hull. "I like working with my hands," he told her.

"I couldn't think of much harder work." She waved at the hot sun blazing down over the becalmed water and added, "Or much harsher conditions."

She wore her copper colored hair short, hardly any longer than his. Her skin was browned from the sea and sun, but freckles stippled the bridge of her short nose. Her eyes were reddish brown, wide and full. She seemed friendly and liked to smile. Her mouth was generous and full-lipped, and he'd yet to see a displeased look on her face. From her position in the crew, he guessed that she was a few years older than he was. In the three days he'd been aboard Breezerunner, he'd never talked to her.

Jherek nodded. He couldn't think of much harder work either, which was why he'd chosen it. Perspiration covered him and the leather straps chaffed at him. He'd stripped down to knee-length breeches and a short-sleeved blouse. Both were drenched from the slight sea spray and sweat. Neither improved the way he smelled. "I'm not used to being a passenger."

"You're a sailor?" she asked.

"Aye." He took time to inspect the barnacle spade's edge again. He'd found that he liked looking at the ship's mage, but after the experience with the Amnians aboard Butterfly he'd taken pains not to allow himself too many glances in her direction. Still, staying in his cabin hadn't been an answer he could live with. When he'd seen the ship's crew ordered to scrape barnacles from the hull that morning he'd gone to the ship's mate, volunteered, and been grudgingly allowed. The mate had thought him deranged for even asking, even more so when he'd actually shown up for the work detail.

"Where's your ship?" she asked.

He glanced up at her, shading his eyes with his free hand as the sun came over the bow when Breezerunner dipped into the water, and said, "In Umberlee's arms." He hated telling the lie, but there was nothing else to do.

"You crewed aboard Silver Dassel!”

"Aye." The lie went against Jherek's nature. It felt like a wedge between them. He'd never forget he'd lied to her. Telling her the truth, though, was out of the question. Silver Dassel had gone down nearly a tenday ago, pulled down by a sahuagin raiding party not far from where Butterfly had been attacked.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It must have been hard."

Jherek let his silence be his only answer. Most of Silver Dassel's crew, including her captain, old Vinagir, hadn't come back. Many of the rest had scattered, trying to find new ships that would take them.

"I didn't know you were working on the hull till this afternoon when I did my inspection," she told him. "When Creil told me you'd volunteered for this and had booked a passage, I had to come see for myself."

Jherek smiled at her and shrugged. "I'm sure you've seen barnacles scraped off a hull before, lady." He studied the clean wood he'd left behind and said, "Unless I'm doing something wrong."

"Call me Sabyna. I'm no high-born to be flattered with titles."

"All right," he agreed, but the familiarity didn't feel comfortable to Jherek.

"The job you're doing," Sabyna said, "is probably better than any of the crew that Creil put together." She passed down a capped jar full of water at the end of a net pole.

"Thank you, lady." He drank the water, tasting the cool clean of it, then sent the jar back up.

She leaned her elbows on the railing and gazed down at him. She wore a long-sleeved dark green blouse tucked into loose-legged white breeches that showed off her womanly figure, and knee-high black leather boots that matched the wide black leather belt that supported a small bag and a brace of throwing knives.

"There's more work to be done about this ship if you've a mind," she said.

"Aye. I'd like that very much."

"Captain Tynnel says you're bound for Baldur's Gate."

"Aye."

"Hoping to find another ship there?"

"If I can."

She raised an eyebrow. "Impress the captain during the rest of the journey as you already have, maybe you'll find a berth here by the time you reach Baldur's Gate."

Jherek nodded. He didn't think a berth on Breezerunner had been what Madame litaar had in mind, but he felt stubborn about what he was supposed to do. Live, that you may serve. Perhaps he could do that best aboard Breezerunner. It felt good to think about.

"I've been ship's mage aboard Breezerunner for five years," she told him. "I've got some influence of my own."

Jherek didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.

"I've also taken the liberty to talk to the captain on your behalf regarding the work you're doing on Breezerunner. Keep working and you'll be compensated. It won't be a full hand's pay-our budget won't allow it-but you should see a good return on your booking passage."

"You don't have to do that, lady."

"Sabyna."

She remained quiet, waiting till he looked her in the eye.

"Sabyna," he repeated.

"I've also noticed that you usually take a meal to your cabin and eat by yourself."

"Aye. You seem to be quite observant, la-Sabyna." Jherek felt a little irritated with her attention. He hadn't noticed that she'd been observing him, and it unnerved him to think that she might be watching him so closely.

"I'm ship's mage," she stated simply. "It's my responsibility to keep Breezerunner seaworthy and in good repair. I also log our charts for navigational purposes, check up on our pilot, and keep track of where everything is on this ship. I've developed a good eye for detail and I'm not easily distracted."

"You sound like you're very good at what you do."

"Thank you. I am."

Despite the unease he felt, Jherek had to smile at the confidence the woman projected.

"You're laughing at me?" she asked.

"No, lady."

"Sabyna."

"Aye."

"You are laughing."

Amazed at the lightness in his heart in spite of the depression that had clung to him over the past three days, Jherek looked up at her again. "Maybe a little."