[Regin Hardhammer]

Marreth could feel the blood pulsing through his veins as he took in Jynne's disturbing words. Lies, all a pack of lies! But it would do him no good to succumb to anger letting emotion rather than wit determine the outcome of their dispute.

Still, his initial instinct was to hurtle towards Jynne with sword extended and make an end of the miserable wretch. He had no doubt that he could best him in swordplay. Yet something caused him to draw back. Jynne had used poison twice before: he would surely not hesitate to use it again. And Marreth had no wish to be on the receiving end of a poisoned blade.

Marreth watched in disbelief as Jynne uncorked the black flask and drank its contents. Marreth's hand slipped from the hilt of his sword as he deliberately took three paces back. "You fool! You have brought your own doom upon your head. I will not sully my blade with the blood of one who is a traitor and coward to boot."

"A traitor?" Jynne raised one eyebrow and glared over at the Corsair, relishing the final stroke that was yet to come. "I am no traitor,"he purred. "I do only what I have been instructed to do by a mighty lord of Harard who thought you so weak and untrustworthy that he hired me to keep you in line."

"You lie!" snarled Marreth, hating the thought that what Jynne said might be true.

"No, it is you who lies. You lie to yourself, with your illusions about honor and the sacredness of your command. You are nothing more than a pawn for Lord Castamir. To be thrown out and discarded when your job is done."

Blind fury seized Marreth as he detected the truth that underlay Jynne's claims. Heedless of the danger, the Corsair hurled himself at the dying man. With one final effort, Jynne reached inside his sleeve and ripped out a second bottle of inky liquid, quickly uncorking it. Marreth stood frozen to the spot as if unable to move. One more second and he would have no chance. The contents of the flask would reach his skin, and the only possible escape would be death.

But in that split instant just before Jynne's hand flicked out, a shadow suddenly appeared behind Marreth. Small and stout, dressed in the furs of a Lossoth, Hilde appeared from nowhere,: a silent witness who bore a heavy axe. She brought the blade down twice in a paroxysm of rage, cutting straight through Jynne's wrist and sending the man screaming to the ground. His cry died on his lips as the poison took hold. Jynne shuddered once, twice, then lay silent in a heap.

Marreth looked down on the woman, astonished that one so short and grey-haired could have so much power in her arms, and even more astonished that she had done this for him. His eyes asked the question, even before his mouth opened to speak.

She shrugged her shoulders, "You played straight with me. You paid me well and pulled me out of the brig when the Elves would have skewered me in two. I owed it to you."

"So there is honor even among thieves," Marreth mused with a hint of a smile.

"Perhaps a little," the woman conceded as she picked up the axe, cleaned the blade against the cloak of the dead man, and abruptly walked out.

Already there was a large crowd in the hallway to peer and gawk at what had happened. Marreth looked up and snapped at the helmsman, "Raise the sail. We head out now to the Elven vessel. Feed this dog's body to the sharks at Sea." He gave a hard kick to Jynne's behind.

Once the others had left, Marreth ran over to Jynne's satchel and began searching. Digging deep, he found a hidden compartment, with a small piece of parchment rolled up. He pulled it out: a document from Castamir to Jynne, confirming what the man had told him. In a fit of anger, he threw it against the wall and snapped. "I swear I have had it with great lords and great Elves. They deserve each other. I will get those Stones for myself. Let all the great lords come begging to me.....I will turn up my nose at them." He turned away and headed for the main deck intending to have his revenge on the Elven ship....