Jherek didn't respond. He was already aware of that possibility. He watched carefully, trying to ignore the embarrassment he felt at watching the smooth, rolling nakedness the woman presented.

"Put back everything you've taken," the young sailor said.

"What?" Talif demanded.

Jherek spared the man a hard glance and said, "I won't be party to robbery."

"What do you think we're doing here tonight?"

"Taking something back that Frennick has no right to," Jherek answered.

Talif glared at the young sailor, trying to intimidate him. Jherek met the other man's gaze.

"I mean what I say," the young sailor said, "and I'll know if you lie and try to take something."

Despite his own show of will, Talif melted before the younger man's gaze. "Cyric take you," he said. "Are you afraid for your soul?"

"No," Jherek answered, knowing that the birthright passed on by his father already doomed him, "but I will stand accountable for my actions."

"These are my actions."

"You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me."

"Foolish, prideful stubbornness."

"Aye," Jherek responded without rancor. "Call it as you will, but you will not leave here with any stolen goods."

"Others will steal it in our stead," Talif protested.

"But we won't."

Uttering venomous curses, Talif emptied his pockets of coins, gems, and pieces of jewelry.

"I've not found your precious disk, boy, and I've searched every inch of this room."

"That disk is not here," Frennick said. He stood dressed in boots and breeches. With his hands behind his back, the woman hadn't been able to get a blouse on him. "Vurgrom has it."

Jherek faced the pirate more squarely and asked, "Where can we find Vurgrom?"

"If I tell you, Vurgrom will kill me."

Talif stepped closer, a wickedly curved blade in his hand, and said, "At least the death he hands out won't come as soon as the one we'll give you."

"There are things worse than death," Frennick said. "Vurgrom knows many of them."

Jherek grabbed a cloak from the foot of the bed. He checked through it quickly for weapons, turning up three knives, a sap, and a set of brass knuckles. He dropped the collection to the bed and draped the cloak over Frennick's shoulders, securing it with a brooch at the throat. Unless someone looked closely, they'd never know he went blouse-less beneath it.

"You're even more of a fool than I believed to think you can simply walk this man through the tavern and out the building," Talif stated.

"He knows about Lathander's disk," Jherek replied. "I need to know what he knows of it, and Captain Azla wishes to know about Vurgrom's movements."

The young sailor placed a hand on his prisoner's shoulders and shoved him forward.

"You can't just leave my valuables out for anyone to take," Frennick protested.

Jherek kept the man moving forward. "I won't be taking them," he said.

The noise from the pirates gathered downstairs filled the hallway, echoing up the stairwells that led down to the tavern. They were noisy and they were drunk, but the young sailor knew every sword in the place would be turned against him if they figured out what he was doing.

Over thirty pirates crowded into the Bare Bosom tavern, seated on the long, rough-hewn benches on two sides of the uneven rectangular tables in the center of the large room. The wooden walls held scars that were obscene pictographs, fake treasure maps, and touchstones for tall tales told over tankards of ale when storms kept men from the sea. A fireplace built into the far wall held caldrons of fish stew and clam chowder.

Booming, drunken voices raised in song and tale-telling made a cacophony of noise. The soot-stained windows at the front of the tavern faced the empty, dark street outside.

Three serving wenches made the rounds of the tables, ale-headed enough now that they no longer avoided the groping hands of the pirates. Only one of the serving girls seemed determined to stay out of their grasps. She was thin and short, looking barely into her teens if the rosy glow on her cheeks was any indication.

Behind the bar, amid the clutter of shelves that held glasses and bottles, was the tavern's centerpiece. It looked as if the prow of a ship had smashed through the wall, leaving ripped timbers in its wake. The prow held a mermaid whose carved auburn hair flowed back to become part of the ship. Her proud breasts stood out above the narrow waist that turned to scales.

Frennick hesitated for a moment, and Jherek tightened his grip on the man's arm.

The young sailor kept his prisoner moving, using his body to press the man toward the broad oak door. Jherek and his prisoner were at the door when the girl screamed behind them.

At first Jherek thought it was the woman they'd left in the room above. He turned swiftly, stepping back and away from Frennick so the pirate couldn't turn on him.

A pair of the pirates caught up the young serving girl. Her long skirt and sleeveless blouse looked incongruous compared to the scanty clothes of the other wenches. Her blond hair fanned out over her shoulders as one of the pirates ripped her scarf from her head. She struggled in the powerful grip of the man who held her.

"Let's see what you look like when you let your hair down, you little vixen," the pirate said. "Old Tharyg believes you're a pretty little peach."

The girl tried to batter the old pirate with her fists but Tharyg seized them effortlessly. She shrilled in frustration and fear.

The bartender and bodyguards stayed back, thin, wolfish grins on their faces.

"Clear the room," Tharyg entreated. "Give a sailing man room to work."

The pirates pushed themselves up and staggered into motion. Bets were placed on Tharyg's ability after imbibing so much ale. " 'E'll never get the old Jolly Roger unfurled!" one man cried out.

The girl continued to scream and fight, but it was no use. She was outnumbered and overpowered. They held her at wrist and ankle, pinning her to one of the rectangular tables.

Jherek paused, knowing these events weren't uncommon in such a place as the Bare Bosom.

"No." Talif came up behind the young sailor and shoved him forward, adding, "Leave her to the jackals."

"I can't," Jherek said.

"You're a fool," Talif told him, his eyes hard.

"Get him to Captain Azla."

"Aye. Good-bye and good riddance," Talif grumbled as he prodded Frennick through the door.

Coldly calm, Jherek approached the group of pirates. He caught up a chair in his free hand and never broke his purposeful stride.

Laaqueel luxuriated in the swim to the mudship Tarjana. The water off the coast of Turmish was dirtier than she was accustomed to, but the brine was sweet relief after all the hours of overland travel.

She was malenti, a sahuagin trapped by the appearance of a hated sea elf. The dreaded mutation happened to sahuagin born too close to sea elves. Her life had been further cursed by the fact that her skin was the pink of a surface world elf, not the blue or green of a true sea elf.

Somewhat less than six feet tall, slender and supple, she looked weak.

She wore her night-black hair pulled back, bound with fish bones and bits of coral. Her clothing consisted only of the war harness worn by the sahuagin, straps around her waist, thighs, and arms that allowed her to tie weapons and nets so she could keep her hands free.

Iakhovas's mystical ship lay at anchor half a mile from shore, only a short distance for one born to wander the sea. Tarjana was one hundred thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, and took one hundred forty rowers, seventy to a side. There was enough room aboard to comfortably fit another one hundred fifty men. Huge crossbows with harpoon-sized quarrels lined the port and starboard sides. Purple and yellow sails lay furled around the three tall masts. Sahuagin warriors filled the deck as well as the water around the ship.