Chapter fifteen
Of a galleon, a rapier and honorIn an outward wash of foam-tinged green bubbles the Shank vanished.
Subsequently we carried out those necessary rites and services for our dead, consigning each to his or her own god or pantheon and releasing their bodies over the side.
Wilma recovered of her wound; many of our wounded did not. Captain Murkizon remained a most subdued man. Everyone felt sympathy for him. He had been right — of course he had been right! — yet such is the contrary nature of humankind that right though he was we felt that deep undercurrent that in this case being right was not the right course. Do not ask any explanation. I deplore racial hatred, as you know. I deplore slavery. In the dealings of the folk of Paz with the raiding sea rovers from over the curve
