Emmaline lay back in the bath luxuriating in the hot water. It was difficult to heat enough water for a warm bath on a ship, the expenditure of firewood alone was very expensive, but fortunately a spell that would warm water was something even a novice could master within a few weeks. The tub itself was a large cask which had been halved when the top had been damaged and the interior sealed with copper. It was large enough for Emmaline to sit in with her knees drawn up and she was able to rinse her hair by emptying a jug over her head. Soap was less easy to come by. Sailors in general and pirates in particular, were not as a rule interested in bathing. Apparently the previous captain had felt much the same way as there was no soap to be found. Doubtless she could pick some up in the morning, or the afternoon more likely, when she went ashore.

She had stripped off her soaked clothes and dropped them into the tub. The silver she had taken from Von Roberts, perhaps a hundred pieces had survived her escape, lay in an upturned hat by the side of the bed, allowing her to run her fingers through the glittering metal at leisure. When she had hit the water, the weight of metal had carried her to the bottom. Fortunately she had been able to use a spell to breathe, a good thing because a trio of musket balls had drawn trails through the water close to her, though they were no danger by the time the reached her, it was clear that surfacing would have had its own problems. Walking to shore she had noticed that Von Roberts had men on the waterfront watching for her, or her body she supposed as they doubtless assumed she had drowned, and had been left with no choice but to walk along the harbor bottom to reach the Hammer, an exhausting and unpleasant task. Several pieces of silver had been used up to create arcane lights for the trek and it was a good thing a moon was up or people might have noticed phantom lights beneath the water.

It was a shame that her pistol had not gone off, she suspected that Von Roberts was not the sort to live and let live and though she was no sailor, it seemed pretty clear to her that bigger meant better when it came to ships. The code of Sartosa prevented ships in harbor from attacking one and other, but she was starting to wish she had started a convenient fire on the Sea Drake before she left. Emmaline picked up a comb, bought with her from her bagage when the last ship had been captured, and began to work it through her hair, tugging out bits of seaweed and driftwood that had become lodged in her golden locks. She had nearly completed the task when the door banged open. She gasped and covered herself with her hands before she realized it was Markus, who looked like he had lost a shilling and found a copper. She cocked an interogative eyebrow at him.