“Do you believe what they said about him at the court-martial?” Kettle grunted and peered ahead for a moment, and Gwen thought he had simply declined to answer. She had turned and begun to leave when he said, “Miss Lancaster?” She paused. “Yes?” “I didn’t know him when he was in the Fleet, miss, but . . .” Kettle took a slow breath, his lips moving slightly, as if composing his answer before he spoke. Then he nodded and turned his eyes to her, his expression intent. “Miss Lancaster, spirestone is heavy. Fire is hot. And the captain does his duty. No matter what it costs him. Understand?” Gwen
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