“Rhiannon will protect you,” Boghaz said.
“ Silence!” roared Carse. “Who are you to speak for Rhiannon?” Boghaz cringed abjectedly and Carse said, “Fetch the Lady Ywain to me—but first strike off her chains.”
He descended the ladder to stand upon the deck, waiting. Behind him he heard the branded man groan and mutter, “ Ywain! Gods above, the Khonds would have been a better death!”
Carse stood unmoving and the men watched him, not daring to speak, wanting to rise and kill him, but afraid. Afraid of the unknown, shivering at the power of the Cursed One that could blast them all.
Ywain came to him, free of her chains now, and bowed. He turned and called out to the crew.
“You rose, against her once, following the barbarian. Now the barbarian is no more as you knew him. And you will serve Ywain again. Serve her well and she will forget your crime.”
He saw her eyes blaze at that. She started to protest and he gave her a look that stopped the words in her throat.
“Pledge them,” he commanded. “On the honor of Sark.”
She obeyed. But it seemed to Carse again that she was still not quite convinced that he was actually Rhiannon.
She followed him to the cabin and asked if she might enter. He gave her leave and sent Boghaz after wine and then for a time there was silence. Carse sat brooding in Ywain’s chair, trying to still the nervous pounding of his heart and she watched him from under lowered eyes.