"And I thank the Maker for that," she said, smiling. "It's bad enough I have Aveline breathing down my neck. I don't need you doing the same." Not unless he wanted to, and that was too cliche of an innuendo to toss out.

She snorted. "It never rains but it pours, is that what you're saying?" She'd believe it, too. The Gallows were always quiet when she was there unless there was a serious problem, and it was never something simple like a missing bag of herbs. "One day, they might. When they're on the other end of his jaws."

Hawke watched him with the back of her hand pressed to her nose, waiting until he sent the traps overboard to take a deep breath. She coughed once. "That is morbid...but probably very accurate." Isabela might know but she wasn't so certain she wanted to hear what the real explanation might be.

She lifted a brow and took one of the bottles, smiling. "Oh, so I wasn't the only one who brought some. I brought a bottle of Antivan brandy with me for us to share." She uncorked the bottle and sniffed just to get the stench of the bait out of her senses. "Much better. Thank you." She took a long drink for good measure.