Samilcar and Salvarad leapt down onto the dock. Maska watched them, puzzled. They acted as though they had been around ships all their life. And they had never answered what they had done before she had ‘captured’ them. It was odd. Very odd. They also talked in the slang typical of corsairs. “Odd, ain’t it,” said Scriptail, “how they act so…Corsairish.” “Corsairish yerself!” Maska said, shoving him. Samilcar walked over. “So, where’s this King o’ yers?” Maska pointed at the palace. “Rather shy, ain’t ‘e?” asked Samilcar. “That’s not fer me t’ say,” replied Maska.

Arill hauled himself onto the shore, coughing. He had been the olnly one of the crew of the Whirlpool who had escaped certain death. He was burning within. Now he planned to seek revenge apon Samilcar and Salvarad! His mind had been slightly twisted over the years, and now it had made this his aim in life; Kill Samilcar and Salvarad!