“Me boys ain’t been feelin’ too welcome ‘ere lately.” The quartermaster of the Sirens was a large, fearsome woman, but Rhesh was not in the habit of being intimidated. She crossed her arms and stared up at the roegadyn defiantly.
“Probably ‘cause they ain’t,” the woman retorted. “Dunno why ye even bother with ‘em.”
“Us gunners ‘as tae stick tagether.” Something Rat had told her years ago, right after they had met. Rhesh had taken it to heart… if somewhat selectively.
The woman snorted. “Ye three ain’t th’ only gunners on this crew. An’ yer garlean dog weren’t even a gunner ‘for ye picked ‘im up.”
Rhesh narrowed her eyes. “Th’ other gunners don’ like me boys.”
“I can’t imagine why.” The woman’s tone was lost on Rhesh, but her expression conveyed the sarcasm well enough.
“Look ‘ere, they be mine, an’ I’ll not ‘ave ‘em mistreated wi’out good reason.”
The roegadyn narrowed her own eyes. “They be lucky they ain’t been gutted. ‘Specially that lalafell. Seems tae me they be treated better’n they deserve,” she sneered.
“An’ I’ll gut any as thinks tae touch ‘em. We be some’a th’ best gunners ye’ll ever ‘ope tae find, an’ if somefin don’t change, we’ll be findin’ another crew tae work for.”
“Do it then. We ‘as other women jes as good as ye.”
“Do ye now? See iffn ye still thinks so after th’ next time ye needs the cannons.”
Rhesh’s tail was still lashing in anger when she entered the cabin where Rat and Dog were playing cards. She slammed the door so hard the mugs on the table shook. The men looked up.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Dog asked. He didn’t have the same heavy accent as his two companions, but he’d picked up some of it.
“We be leavin’,” Rhesh told them. “Git yer sea chests. Sirens ain’t what they used tae be anyway.”
