Ship of Destiny. Робин Хобб

for not foreseeing this chaos. As their cries and Althea’s shouts told him the positions of the advancing boats, he shouted his orders to the man on the wheel and the crew working the rigging. He judged that they would be able to evade the smaller boats, but not by much. As for the larger vessel behind him, well, the same wind filled her sails as his. He had a lead, and should be able to keep it. Paragon was a liveship, damn it. He should be able to outrun anything he had a lead on. Yet for all that, the ship’s responses lagged, as if Paragon resisted the crew’s efforts to speed him along. Dread uncoiled inside Brashen. If Paragon did not pick up speed, the smaller boats would close with him.

      In a matter of minutes, Brashen had the ship’s deck crew working smoothly. As the chaos subsided, he glanced about for Lavoy. Where was the man whose job he’d been doing?

      He spotted Lavoy headed for the foredeck. Even more unnerving than the previous disorder was the small, orderly group of men around Lavoy. Composed mostly of the former slaves they had smuggled out of Bingtown, this group flanked the first mate as if they were his personal escort. They carried both bows and swords. They ranged themselves on the foredeck. Purpose was in Lavoy’s stride as he paced it. Brashen felt an irrational flash of anger. The way the men moved around Lavoy told all. This was Lavoy’s élite crew. They answered to him, not Brashen.

      As Brashen crossed the deck, his coat snagged on something. He spun in annoyance to free it, and found a flush-faced Clef hanging on to him. The boy held a long knife in his right hand and his blue eyes were wide. He quailed at Brashen’s stern look but did not let go of his jacket. ‘’m watchen your back, Cap’n,’ he announced. A disdainful toss of his head indicated Lavoy and the men around him. ‘Wait,’ Clef suggested in a lowered voice. ‘Jes watch’em for a minute.’

      ‘Let go,’ Brashen ordered him in annoyance. The boy complied, but followed him as closely as a shadow as Brashen headed for the foredeck.

      ‘Come here! I’ll kill you all! Come closer!’ Paragon shouted gleefully at the pirates in the small boats. His voice was deeper and hoarser than Brashen had ever heard it. If not for the volume of the words, he would not have known it was his ship. He felt Paragon’s bloodlust himself for an instant; a boy’s wild determination to prove himself spiked with a man’s drive to crush any who opposed him. It chilled him, and his spine grew colder as he heard Lavoy’s wild shout of laughter. Was Lavoy unknowingly feeding off Paragon’s wild emotions?