Ship of Magic

The beast-tamer glanced about at the angry onlookers. “Of course not!” he scoffed. “How could it be rigged? You saw the man, you saw the bear! They were the only two in the square. He paid for a chance to wrestle the bear and he lost. It doesn't get any simpler than that!”

In a sense, what the man said was true, and Wintrow expected the sailors to grudgingly agree with it. He had not taken into account how much they had drunk, nor how much money they had lost. Once the accusation of cheating had been raised, a simple denial was not going to calm them. One, more quick witted than the others, suddenly said, “Hey. Where did that fellow go, the one who won earlier? Is he your friend? Does the bear know him?”

“How should I know?” the bear owner demanded. “He's probably off spending the money he won from me.” A brief shadow of unease had flickered across the beast-tamer's face, and he glanced about the crowd as if looking for someone.

“Well, I think the bear's been trained for this,” someone declared angrily. It seemed to Wintrow the most obvious and, in this context, the stupidest statement that he'd heard yet.

“It wasn't a fair contest. I want my money back,” another declared, and almost immediately this statement was taken up by the rest of the crowd. The bear's owner again seemed to seek someone in the crowd, but found no allies there.

“Hey. We said we want our money back!” Torg pointed out to him. He swaggered up to put his face close to the beast-tamer's. “Comfrey's my shipmate. You think we're going to stand by and see him beat up and us cheated out of our hard-earned money? You made our man look bad, and by Sa's balls, we don't stand still for that!” Like many a bully, he knew how to best rally men to their own self-interest. He glanced around at the men watching him and then turned back to the beast-tamer. He nodded significantly. “Think we can't just take it if you choose not to give it?” There was a rumbling of agreement from the others.

The beast-tamer was outnumbered and knew it. Wintrow could almost seem him cast about for compromises. “Tell you what,” he declared abruptly. “I didn't cheat and my bear didn't cheat, and I think most of you know that. But I can be fair and more than fair. Any one of you wants, I'll let him wrestle the bear for free. If he wins, I pay off all the bets same as if that man had won. He loses, I keep the money. Fair enough? I'm giving you a chance to win back your money for free.” After a brief pause, a muttering of agreement ran through the crowd. Wintrow wondered what fool would be the next to feel the bear's strength.

“Here, Win, you go against him,” Comfrey suggested. He gave the boy a shove forward. “You're little and quick. All you got to do is get past him and onto his back.”

“No. No, thank you.” As quickly as Comfrey had pushed him forward, Wintrow stepped back. But the sailor's words had been overheard, and another man from another ship took it up.

“Yea. Let their ship's boy give it a try. He's little and quick. I bet he can get past the bear and get our money back for us.”

“No!” Wintrow repeated louder, but his voice was lost in the general chorus of assent. It was not just his own shipmates urging him on, but the crowd in general.

Torg swaggered up to him and looked him up and down. He smelled of beer. “So,” he sneered. “You think you can win our money back for us? Somehow I doubt it. But give it a try, boy.” He gripped Wintrow's arm and dragged him toward the bear's square. “Our ship's boy wants to give it a try.”

“No,” Wintrow hissed at him. “I don't.”

Torg frowned at him. “Just get past him and onto his back,” he explained in an elaborately patient voice. “That should be easy for a skinny little weasel like you.”

“No. I won't do it!” Wintrow declared loudly. A chorus of guffaws greeted this, and Torg's face darkened with embarrassed fury.

“Yes, you will,” he declared.

“Boy doesn't want to do it. Got no guts,” Wintrow clearly heard a man say.

The beast-tamer had his animal back in the square. “So. Your boy going to try or not?”

“Not!” Wintrow declared loudly, as Torg firmly announced, “He will. He just needs a minute.” He rounded on Wintrow. “Look here,” he hissed at him. “You're shaming us all. You're shaming your ship! Get in there and get our money back for us.”

Wintrow shook his head. “You want it done, you do it. I'm not stupid enough to take on a bear. Even if I got past him and got on his back, there's no guarantee he'll give in. Just because he did it before . . .”

“I'll do it!” Mild volunteered. His eyes were bright with the challenge.

“No,” Wintrow objected. “Don't do it, Mild. It's stupid. If you weren't humming on cindin, you'd know that. If Torg wants it done, let Torg do it.”

“I'm too drunk,” Torg admitted freely. “You do it, Wintrow. Show us you got some guts. Prove you're a man.”