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resh gore…with red blood pocking the deck and more blood dripping down the mainmast。 But there was not a corpse to be seen； much less the sobs of wounded men。 We fled in terror； L'ur screaming and the seamen dashing about to do his bidding as if the Dark Seeker had loosed his hounds。 The Kittiwake leaped away from the ghost ship； and when we had sailed a great distance； L'ur hove to for consultation。
Some of the men said it was the work of an evil wizard。 Others said it was men。 The men they imagined were half pirate； half demon； who crept up on innocent seamen to make a meal of their flesh or to carry them away to eating pens。 At Janos' urging； Cassini stilled his quaking guts enough to give a little speech about kinder gods and gentler men。 There was little passion to his talk； so it was unconvincing； less from Cassini's illness than his own fear。 He seemed to be trying to e to terms as to what manner of things he would encounter； and be expected to overe； as the expedition continued。 He could see how little his words meant； so he called for a sacrifice to the gods of this region。 This started a quarrel。 Some said we should sacrifice to our own gods as well； so as not to make them jealous。 Some said we should make sacrifice only to our own； or they would abandon us permanently。 There was only a small pig to kill…the ship's mascot。 Cassini wisely stayed with his first judgment； placating the near rather than the far。 The pig squealed as he cut its throat； and he bled it into a copper bowl engraved with arcane symbols。
〃That'll do no good；〃 I heard a man say。
〃We'll need a better gift than that；〃 another said。
〃It's just our poor pig；〃 someone said quite near。
〃That's all our luck he's killin'；〃 came a grumble。
I heard someone say； 〃It's the redhead who's to blame。 Every…one knows red hair's bad luck on a ship。〃 Janos' hand gripped my elbow； and I gave no indication I had heard。 As he pulled me away I heard a final ment。 〃It oughta be him； 'stead of the pig。 That'd change our luck。〃
〃I see what you meant about my red hair；〃 I groaned。 〃It's always been a curse to me。〃
〃It's foolish to mourn a thing you were born with；〃 Janos soothed。 〃I wouldn't be surprised if there are kingdoms with nothing but redheaded people； and it is the poor black…haired fellow who's cursed。〃
〃What should I do？〃 I asked。
〃Don't trouble yourself。 We're only a few days out of Redond。 Why stir a pot to boil； when a simmer does no harm？ Besides； we have our own men； good； loyal Orissan soldiers the seamen would not dare challenge。〃 He eyed me； grim despite his words。 〃But keep your knife ready。 In case someone es at you in the night。〃
Cassini pleted the sacrifice； pouring the blood and a mixture of sorcerous ingredients on the seas； and calling to the gods in a loud voice that we were peaceful men who would soon be quit of their kingdom。 We set sail again； and the spirits of the men seemed somewhat eased。 The muttering ceased； although my hair still drew looks。 The crew became almost cheery as we entered a region everyone said was always blessed with steady winds。 L'ur changed course to make a straight run for Redond； speeding over the waves like the fish with wings。 That afternoon the wind died。
L'ur told his men not to worry； it was only a temporary lull； and reassured them about the well…known reliability of the winds in these parts。 We remained becalmed all that night。 In the morning we leaped up； ready for the fresh winds of the new day。 They never arrived。 The late afternoon winds failed as well。 Nor did the night breezes bless us with their kiss。 The following morning the sun dawned close and hot。 Our heads ached as the still day wore on。 The seamen's horny feet blistered and stuck to the deck； skin ing off if they pulled too hard。 There was not a cloud in that blazing sky to give us hope of fresh winds rushing in over the horizon。
L'ur came to me in the late afternoon。 〃It's time you got your Evocator to get out the wind spirits；〃 he said。 〃I've never had need of 'em in these parts； and would have advised we keep 'em for a nasty bit just off Redond。〃 He looked up at the cloudless skies and shook his head。 〃Somethin's cursed us； sure；〃 he said。 〃And I think we ought to get off quick。〃
I huddled with Janos and Cassini。 One paid a dear price for a good bag of wind spirits； making many old witchwornen a handsome living in the ports where they plied their trade； capturing errant wind spirits in a sorcerous sack； then selling them to sailors for use when the wind failed。 The bags were so costly； however； they were used only in emergency。 We all agreed that an emergency had e。
Cassini made quite a ceremony of it； chalking a pentagram on the deck just behind the beaked prow。 He purified the area around the pentagram； sprinkling ashes made of rare spices and the cremated parts of equally rare creatures。 He donned his best robe and fetched the sack containing the wind spirits。 All of us gathered as he lifted his hands and cried out to Te…Date in a loud voice。 He summoned the wayfarer's god for half an hour； and then spent most of an hour more praising Te…Date's name and enlisting his sympathy for our plight。 The heat was intolerable； but no one plained； fearing to interfere and cause failure。 We bore with his long exaltation； propping up our fellows who had been overe by the sun。 I remember well that blazing sky and Cassini's sonorous words beseeching it。 Not one small cloud paid a visit。
Finally； the moment came。 Cassini laid the bag on the deck； gripped the drawstring； and gave a hard tug； stepping back quickly to avoid the blast of the emerging wind spirits。 There are tales of men being killed by the fury of their escape。 There was no fury on that day。 Instead of a great cloud rushing to the skies to spawn the winds； a sickly gasp belched from the sack。 It collapsed on the deck； a poor； flat； dead thing with no hope for us。 Cassini stood there in dismay； mouth agape； a fool decked in Evocator's robes。 The crew shouted in surprise。
One of the men brazenly tramped into the sacred pentagram and picked up the bag。 I did not know his name； but he had the cropped ears of a man who had paid a price for thievery。 He looked at the seal dangling from the string and hooted in angry disbelief。 〃I'm knowin' this mark；〃 Crop Ear shouted； 〃and its maker's a great cheat。 Sells her spirits right cheap； she does。 Puny things that won't make a spit of a cloud。〃 He turned to me and shook the sack at me in accusation。 〃The Redhead's a tightfist； boys；〃 he cried。 〃Rather make our women widows than pay fair price for fair merchandise。〃 The crew bellowed anger； ignoring L'ur's pleads for calm。 Some of them put hands on their knives and shouted for my red scalp to appease the gods。
Janos barked an order； and suddenly Sergeant Maeen and the soldiers were there。 Swords scraped from their scabbards； and the crew fell silent。 Janos leaped on a keg。 〃Hear me well； men of Kittiwake〃 he shouted。 〃If one of you lays a hand on this man； I will order our soldiers to slay you all。 We are close enough to Redond that lack of your seaman's skills…such as they are…will not stay our hand； I promise you。〃 Maeen clanged sword against shield to punc