ONCE THE SHIP was underway, Tiwaz and Ky-Lar took up residence on the forecastle deck, refusing to budge from the base of the fore mast they sat against. The panther slept while his aceri rested against him, watching the sky. She glanced up when a shadow fell across her. Ronin Dar stood there, a bowl of food, cups, a wine skin and a small hunk of bread in hand. She squinted up at him, shading her eyes. “You did not need to bring me food.”

“You do not need to abstain from eating. Your friends offered to bring some when Cook insisted you be fed when you did not come to the galley, but I claimed the honor for myself. Least I could do for the first half-armed, half-sized person who handed me my ass in a wrestling match.” She couldn’t help but smile at his description of her. He lowered himself to sit, handing her the stew and bread. “Eat. Captain’s orders.”

Hesitating a moment, she accepted the offering. “I am surprised. I have been waiting for Simpkins to tell me how much passage to Griffin Isle will be, but he has been talking with Gareth and Doom more often than not.”

“You came here seeking his aid, didn’t you?” the large man asked as he poured wine for them both.

She snorted softly as she tore a piece of bread to dip into the stew. “He does nothing if it does not profit him.” She paused a heartbeat, remembering the potion he once gave her that saved her life, then continued to eat, eyes on her food. “Most of the time.”

Ronin chuckled. “You’re not too far off with that, really. But he usually reserves his ‘pay first, work later’ rule for the self-righteous asses.” He raised his cup to her. “Or those he doesn’t know.”

“Suppose I should be grateful he doesn’t consider me a self-righteous ass.” She glanced at Ky-Lar, and picked out a chunk of meat, popping it in the panther’s mouth. Thus fed, he put his head back down, eyes half-closed.

“Hardly. When he told us he’d not only met you, but fought by your side, the crew couldn’t get enough stories about his adventures.” Ronin pointed a finger at his temple with the hand holding the cup, squinting meaningfully. “The others are too dense to notice subtle difference in our captain, but I could tell. You touched him. More than anyone has in a very long time.”

Her expression reflected her skepticism. “Simpkins? Sentimental?”

Ronin did not let her cynicism ruffle him. “He doesn’t get close to many. Keeps a certain distance from most of the crew. Oh, he’s good to us. Probably better than we deserve. But he’s not close to more than Baldar.” He leaned back to look towards where the dwarf bellowed at several crewmen, sending them scurrying into the ropes to adjust one of the sails. “Unlikely pairing, a dwarf and an ogre, I know.”

“I thought dwarves avoided bodies of water deeper than their waists. Since they sink like rocks.” She looked to the prow of the stone ship and amended, “Well. Most rocks.”

“Baldar isn’t a normal dwarf. Oh, he would still sink if he fell overboard. But he’d trained as an acrobat in his youth. Serves him well on board ship. And the crew keeps a sharp eye out in case of any mishaps.”

Tiwaz looked up to stare. “A dwarven…acrobat?” She shifted to look back towards the helmsman, disbelief writ across her expression.

Ronin’s eyes crinkled in mirth. “Yup. The Stone Dragon is a magnet for the unusual. If you couldn’t tell after meeting the crew.” He smiled wistfully as he leaned back on his two lower arms. “And home to the outcasts.”

A faint frown marred Tiwaz’s expression. “Outcasts? All of you were sent away from your own people?”

“Eh, not so much sent away, most of us, as not feeling welcomed among them. We didn’t follow traditions blindly, or agree to demands we do one thing when our hearts called us to others. Here? No one cares who or what you are, so long as you pull your weight and stand up for the rest. We’re a family, when it comes down to it. Don’t really have anyone else but each other to have our backs.”

Tiwaz looked down into her empty bowl, troubled. “I thought only Alimar was so cruel as to deprive people of kith and kin. Not that one’s own kith or kin does so.”

“It isn’t so bad,” Ronin commented, leaning over to top off her cup with wine. “You can’t choose the race you’re born as or the blood family you’re born to. Rather have the family I choose to have than be chained to a bunch of people who could care less if I live or die and be free to be the man I want to be.”

Tiwaz sat in silence for a time, Ronin simply sitting with her and Ky-Lar. Suddenly, she downed the rest of her wine and got to her feet. “I’d never gotten the chance to learn the double-arc moon blade. Would you be willing to teach me?”

Ronin smiled toothily. “I would be honored to teach the Warrior of the Western Empire.” A crewman nearby who heard them perked up, and shouted to her fellows about the impending training bout.