Kelton woke from a deep sleep. The rolling of the ship was intense, though almost a comfort after six days at sea. His bed was little more than a large sack hung across the wooden beams that kept the deck off the bottom of the ship. Passengers were curtained off from the main quarters that held the rest of the crew and their berths were situated closer to the center of the boat to lessen the undulations.

Kelton rubbed his eyes, and half rolled, half climbed from his sack. It had taken some time to figure out how to do it without ending up sprawled on the floor. The bed formed a cocoon of sorts. It made it difficult for the unlearned to get in and out. He had finally learned the talent, and his bruised knees welcomed the skill.

No dream of Serenity. It came to him as he stretched his back to reestablish proper blood flow and ease his muscles into the day. Kelton wasn't sure if it was a good thing. Like all men, the sight of an unclothed woman was pleasing, even if it was just a dream. Then again, the repetitiveness of waking with unquenched desires had become bothersome. Especially since the image wasn't Juno.

Kelton closed his eyes and concentrated on the crew. Fuzzier than the day before. It was no longer second nature. It was like the sense had a cover that needed to be lifted and held out of the way. Drop the effort, and everything disappeared. He sighed. Normality wasn't a bad thing, most of the world lived that way. Another few days and he would find out if he could live that way.

The seas were the roughest Kelton had felt. He arrived on deck to find the sky a welcoming blue with scattered pillows of white floating gently aloft, defying the water's rage. Huge swells, some threatening to crest the deck rolled past the ship. The crew went about their duties, ignoring the waves and the jostling they created. It was their calmness that set Kelton's mind at ease.

Kelton moved toward the bow, following the railing and slowing when a large swell would lift the ship. It was exciting going up a wave, then riding it back down. At the bottom of the descent, a new wave would crash into the hull and send a freezing salted spray into the air forcing him to pull his cloak close. He wanted to ride at the front, to feel the power of the sea beneath his feet, to challenge its unrelenting strength.

Kelton found Yanda there, grasping the railing with a smile on her face. She looked as he felt, exhilarated by the impressive strength and beauty of the Goddess' creation. It was controlled violence, tamed by a ship that was tiny in comparison. Kelton moved to her right and grasped the rail as the bow slammed back down. Yanda looked over and nodded, her smile disappearing. Kelton had learned to keep more than an arm's length away. Any closer and she would show her blade.

"My lady," Kelton said with a slight bow. Her eyes flickered, and half her grin reappeared. He watched as she struggled to maintain her composure and not let the joy show. Kelton figured it was her way, her people's way. Wary of all men they do not rule.

The ship began to rise, and Yanda let go of the rail. She looked over at Kelton, her head tilted toward the direction the ship was headed. Kelton saw it for what it was, a challenge. He let go of the rail and stood tall as the ship crested the wave and began to drop. Yanda's smile grew as her feet shifted to maintain balance. Kelton was confident of his skill and concentrated hard on staying upright as the boat slammed into the next one. Somehow, he managed and took the risk of glancing toward Yanda. She was ecstatic, laughing as the ship rose again.

It was all Kelton could do to keep his hands off the railing as the ship crashed down on the next wave. His smile grew and vanished with the swells as they rode them hands-free. His caution brought Yanda a great joy, who wasn't having near the difficulty staying afoot. A game she played well and, Kelton knew, would eventually win. He blamed it on his lack of experience since she had already seen a moon or more on board.

They went up a rather massive wave, Kelton leaning far more forward than he had on previous swells. When the ship reached the top, it dove down rapidly. The next wave was as massive, yet the space between was visibly lessened. The vessel would meet the next wave before it had a chance to roll parallel with the world. In a panic, Kelton grabbed hold of the railing with one hand, the safety rope with the other.

Kelton heard only a few shouted unintelligible victory words from Yanda before the ship collided with the towering wave. All at once the momentum stalled, and Yanda grunted as her midsection slammed into the railing. Her body rolled over the railing and into the water that had ridden almost to the deck.

Kelton leaned over and grabbed Yanda's flailing arm. It happened in an instant, no time to think as his fingers tightened around her wrist. His other hand desperately entwined itself in the safety rope. The wave dropped away, and Kelton screamed as his arms stretched, bent oddly over the rail. Yanda's body turned in the free air, twisting Kelton's arm wrongly. He was able to add the word 'help' to his yelling. The next wave slammed Yanda into the bow followed by a brief relief of her weight before it retreated and Kelton feared his shoulder would separate from his body. He knew a horrible choice was approaching, let her go or join her. He couldn't let her go.

On the rise of the fourth wave, Kelton loosened his hold on the safety rope. It was burning his hand raw. The fingers around Yanda's wrists were weakening. He wondered how long they could stay afloat in the violent waves.

"Ezardi, ezardi," Simbawla yelled at Kelton as he and others ran forward. A new word. 'Hang on,' 'pull up,' 'be strong,' 'let go.' Definitions filled his mind as the boat rose and new pain tore into his shoulder. He lost his grip on the safety rope and began to follow Yanda into the sea.

Strong hands slammed into Kelton's shoulders. He gritted his teeth and put what was left of his strength into the hand that was gripping Yanda's wrist. Another wave slammed Yanda into the boat and lifted her higher. More hands dropping low below his. The strain left his arm, and he was pulled to the deck. A moment later, Yanda was deposited next to him, blood streaming from her nose. Her eyes were looking at him strangely like they thought him a considerable distance away.

"This is not the day to go for a swim," Sebastian said, panting. He kneeled next to Kelton.

"It was not a choice," Kelton said. His shoulders were sore. He decided to still them and hope normality would return if they rested. "I think she's hurt," Kelton added, pointing with his finger without lifting it. Each new wave shifted his weight, painfully reminding him there was nothing ever still on a ship.

"She has not requested help," Sebastian said.

"There is blood...and she's not moving right," Kelton countered. He noticed that the crew had gathered away from her, on his side of the bow.

Sebastian conversed with Yanda. She replied holding up her palm indicating she needed no assistance. Her voice rose, and Sebastian responded with calm. The discussion continued, her eyes glaring at Kelton as her face tightened. She pointed at him and let loose a string of anger. Sebastian sighed and shrugged.

"She is angry," Sebastian pointed out the obvious.

"At me?"

"You have touched her without her permission. It is something her people do not allow," Sebastian interrupted. He held up his hand and shook his head before Kelton could respond. "She is embarrassed, nothing more. It is best if you leave it be."

"Was I to leave her to the sea?"

Yanda let out a tirade. Kelton could hear the venom in her tone. She tried to stand, but faltered and dropped back to her knees. It didn't stop her from trying to reach for her blade. Pain crossed her face forcing her to draw with her off hand, the arm Kelton hadn't grabbed.

"It is best you apologize," Sebastian said.

"What did she say?" Kelton asked with rising anger. It wasn't his fault she risked everything to win their game. She had no right to blame him for saving her.

"It is best you don't know," Sebastian replied.

"It is best you tell me," Kelton argued. He grimaced through the pain and stood, holding fast to the railing as the ship continued to fight the waves.

"She speaks of cutting away your privates," Sebastian said, shaking his head. "It is their way of talk, nothing more."

"I'll not apologize for saving her. It nearly ripped my arms off." Kelton turned away from Yanda and started moving along the deck, back to his bed to recover. "Tell her that next time I'll let her go to the deep if that's her desire." He shook his head and mumbled, "Not that I'll be anywhere near her again." He moved slowly to spare his sore arms, which were required to remain standing. At least he could trust the railing.

It took Kelton longer than average to crawl back into his berth. A difficult task made painful by muscles that had been pulled to their limits. The cradling aspect of the cloth did wonders at stilling his movement. The dull ache in his arms and shoulders became tolerable. He closed his eyes and let the sway of the ship nurse him as he stewed about Yanda's reaction to his rescue.

The woman was a fool, Kelton decided. Not right in the head if she believed her pride was worth more than her life. Maybe her land and people weren't worth knowing. He had met others with minds that didn't encompass the truth of things. They wore white robes and took daughters from their mothers, and cursed women. Yanda was probably no different. Perhaps in her land the cursed men. He sighed and forced his anger down. His thoughts drifted to a kiss. Memories of Juno calmed his mind.

Kelton awoke from a fitful nap when his curtain was pulled aside. It closed again as his eyes focused on Yanda. The nature of his bed made him feel exposed, wrapped too tightly to protect himself allowing only an awkward dismount if the need arose. He opened his sense and felt her presence. There was no sinister intent in her. Kelton pulled himself into a graceless sitting position, ignoring the painful stiffness in his joints.

Yanda stopped out of reach and spoke in a gentle tone. Her eyes were moist as she continued in her flowing language. Not a word was understood, yet Kelton sensed an apology in the timbre of her voice. Not wanting to be rude, he sat still and let her continue. She reached up and began undoing the catch at the top of her shirt. Her words kept flowing, the sounds repeating as if it were a ritual. She continued with the next lower catch.

"Stop," Kelton said when Yanda's fingers moved to the third catch. He shook his head and held out his palm. She did not stop. His words only made her chanting louder. A tear formed in her left eye as she completed the task and opened her shirt, exposing her bosom to Kelton. His eyes were drawn to her beauty, smooth dark skin wrapping proud mounds the size of a man's fist. The nipples were pink and pointed toward him, seeming to defy the Goddess' pull to the ground.

Kelton panicked when Yanda drew her knife thinking she meant to scar herself in atonement. Not something would recommend. He fell from his perch, forcing her to step back. He stood with the intent of stopping her, but before he could reach out, she stabbed her finger. More words flowed from her mouth, and she drew her bloody finger across her chest along the top of breasts. Then followed a downward stroke between her breasts.

"Tawana," Yanda said. She placed the palm of her hand over her heart and repeated the word. She looked at him, wanting some response. "Tawana," she said again, then pointed at him.

"Tawana," Kelton repeated back, fearing what it meant.

Yanda nodded and replaced the knife in its sheath. More words flowed from her as she closed up her shirt, hiding the bloody cross she had drawn. Her stature returned to its regalness. Kelton gave a slight bow of his head. Yanda acknowledged the bow and disappeared beyond the curtain. Something had happened. Kelton smiled to himself. It was some kind of strange apology or recognition of his deed. He decided it wasn't a bad thing to save her from the sea.

"Tawana? Are you sure of the word?" Captain Sebastian asked once Kelton had gotten him alone.

"She said a lot more, but it's the word she wanted me to remember," Kelton replied.

"I guess she reconsidered her dislike of you touching her." Sebastian chuckled. "I have heard of this. It is a rare thing she gives you."

"She gave me nothing. I thought it was thanks or an apology."

"Did she blood herself?"

"Aye. Painted her chest," Kelton said as he drew a cross on his own.

"She means it, and to a man no less," Sebastian shook his head in disbelief.

"Means what?"

"She has given you a life debt. Not something her people give out lightly. Never seen one given before, much less to a man." Sebastian stroked his chin. "That is why she yelled at you once she was back on board. She did not give you permission to save her and incur the debt."

"She has no debt. You have to tell her this for me," Kelton said. He remembered Yanda's eyes, her tears as she painted her chest. It was something she thought had to happen, not something desired. Pride is such a stupid thing.

"Oh, I'll not be insulting her like that," Sebastian said as he waved away Kelton's request. "If you don't want it, don't use it."

"Use it? I don't even know what it is." It sounded unfair, worth far more then the service Kelton performed. A person saves a life because he can, not because it earns him something.

"She has promised you this thing. What that entails is up to you. You see, she believes the rest of her tomorrows are owed to you."

"That is silly."

"Not to her, or her people," Sebastian said. "I only know what I've heard, but if you ask her to jump into the sea, she will consider herself duty-bound to do it."

"I don't want this thing," Kelton said.

Sebastian shook his head. "It is not for you to decline. Doing so would be like saying her life is worthless."

Kelton smiled. "Then I will ask for something small. Have her bring me my next meal, or some water, or something like that."

"You can try," Sebastian said. "I believe her people view the debt in higher terms. Mayhap, she would bring you your meals for the rest of your life."

"Then I will ignore it," Kelton said. "We will go our separate ways, and that will be that."

"Not claim it," Sebastian nodded in agreement.

Kelton turned to walk away, then had a frightening thought and turned back. "She won't follow me until I ask for it, will she?"

"I believe you must follow her if you desire debt fulfilled." Sebastian laughed. "It's probably her greatest worry, a man she owes a life debt following her about. Her people would not look highly on it."

"She need not worry," Kelton said before heading toward Simbawla. There were more things to learn about the rigging on the ship. He learned by watching, then doing as Simbawla indicated. Kelton knew he was doing some of Simbawla's duties and could see the joy of it on Simbawla's face as he watched Kelton work. It was a fair payment for the lessons. At least that debt was easily satisfied.