Sir Famet entered the cabin: a sturdy white-haired man with a face chiseled from rough stone. He gave a laconic greeting to Granice and seated himself at the table.
Granice continued his exposition. "I have had recent advice from Lyonesse. It appears that King Casmir, writhing and casting about like a wounded snake, has sent a secret mission to Skaghane. He hopes for the use of a Ska fleet, if only to protect a landing of Lyonesse troops on Troicinet. The Ska so far have committed themselves to nothing. Neither, of course, trusts the other; each would want to emerge with advantage. But, evidently, Troicinet faces a grave danger. If we are defeated, so go the Elder Isles, either to Casmir, or worse, to the Ska."
Trewan said in a portentous voice, "That is menacing news."
"It is indeed, and we must take counter-measures. If the Smaadra behaves as we hope, six new hulls go on the ways at once. Second, I hope to bring pressure, both military and diplomatic, to bear against Casmir, though without any great optimism. Still, the effort can do no harm. To this end, as soon as possible, I will send the Smaadra with envoys first to Dahaut, Blaloc and Pomperol, then Godelia, and finally South Ulfland. Sir Famet will command the voyage; you, Aillas, and you, Trewan, shall be his aides. I intend that you make this voyage not for your health, nor personal satisfaction, nor the enhancement of your vanities, but for education. You, Trewan, are in direct line for the throne. You will need to learn a great deal about marine warfare, diplomacy and the quality of life around the Elder Isles. The same applies to Aillas, who must justify his rank and its perquisites by service to Troicinet."
"Sir, I shall do my best," said Aillas.
"And I, no less!" declared Trewan.
Granice nodded. "Very good; I expected no less. During this voyage, remember well, you are under the command of Sir Fa-met. Listen to him carefully, and profit by his wisdom. He will not require your advice, so please reserve your opinions and theories unless they are specifically required. In fact, on this voyage, forget that you are princes and conduct yourselves as cadets, unskilled and inexperienced but eager to learn. Do I make myself clear? Trewan?"
Trewan spoke in a surly voice: "I shall obey, of course. Still, I was under the impression—"
"Revise that impression. What of you, Aillas?"
Aillas could not help but grin. "I understand perfectly, sir. I shall do my best to learn."
"Excellent. Now look around the ship, the two of you, while I confer with Sir Famet."
Chapter 9
THE PRE-DAWN AIR WAS QUIET and cool; the sky showed the colors of citron, pearl, and apricot, which were reflected from the sea. Out from the Tumbling River estuary drifted the black ship Smaadra, propelled across the water by its sweeps. A mile offshore, the sweeps were shipped. The yards were raised, sails sheeted taut and back-stays set up. With the sunrise came breeze; the ship glided quickly and quietly into the east, and presently Troicinet had become a shadow along the horizon.
Aillas, tiring of Trewan's company, went forward to the bow, but Trewan sauntered after him, and took occasion to explain the workings of the bow catapults. Aillas listened with polite detachment; exasperation and impatience were profitless exercises in dealing with Trewan.
"Essentially, these are no more than monstrous cross-bows," said Trewan in the voice of one providing insights of great interest to a respectful child. "Their range is functionally two hundred yards, though accuracy is compromised on a moving ship. The tensile member is laminated of steel, ash and hornbeam, assembled and glued in an expert and secret method. The instruments will hurl harpoons, stones or fireballs, and are highly effective. Eventually, and I shall see to it personally, if need be, we shall deploy a navy of a hundred ships such as this, equipped with ten larger and heavier catapults. There will also be supply ships, and an admiral's flagship, with proper accommodations. I am not particularly pleased with my present quarters. It is an absurd little place for one of my rank." Here Trewan referred to his cubbyhole beside the aft cabin. Aillas occupied a similar space opposite, with Sir Famet enjoying the relatively commodious aft cabin itself.
Aillas said in full gravity: "Perhaps Sir Famet might consider changing berths with you, if you put it to him in a reasonable manner."
Trewan merely spat over the rail; he found Aillas' humor at times a trifle tart, and for the rest of the day he had nothing to say.
At sundown the winds diminished to a near calm. Sir Famet, Trewan and Aillas took supper at a table on the rear deck, under the tall bronze stern-lantern. Over a beaker of red wine Sir Famet relaxed his taciturnity.
"Well then," he asked, almost expansively, "and how goes the voyage?"
Trewan at once brought forward a set of peevish complaints, while Aillas looked on and listened in slack-jawed wonder: how could Trewan be so insensitive? "Well enough, or so I suppose," said Trewan. "There is obvious room for improvement."
"Indeed?" asked Sir Famet without overmuch interest. "How so?"
"In the first place, my quarters are intolerably cramped. The ship's designer could well have done better. By adding ten or fifteen feet to the length of the ship, he might have provided two comfortable cabins instead of one; and certainly a pair of dignified privies."
"True," said Sir Famet, blinking over his wine. "With another thirty feet still, we might have brought valets, hairdressers and concubines. What else troubles you?"
Trewan, absorbed in his grievances, failed to heed the tenor of the remark. "I find the crew far too casual. They dress as they please; they lack smartness. They know nothing of punctilio; they take no account of my rank... Today while I was inspecting the ship I was told to ‘Move aside, sir, you are in the way'— as if I were a squire."
No muscle of Sir Famet's hard face so much as twitched. He considered his words, then said: "At sea as on the battlefield, respect does not come automatically. It must be earned. You will be judged by your competence rather than your birth. It is a condition with which I for one am content. You will discover that the obsequious sailor, like the over-respectful soldier, is not the one you most want beside you in either a battle or a storm."
A trifle daunted, Trewan nevertheless argued his point. "Still, a proper deference is ultimately important! Otherwise all authority and order is lost, and we would live like wild animals."
"This is a picked crew. You will find them orderly indeed when the time comes for order." Sir Famet drew himself up in his chair. "Perhaps I should say something about our mission. The overt purpose is to negotiate a set of advantageous treaties. Both I and King Granice would be surprised if we did so. We will be dealing with persons of status exceeding our own, of the most various dispositions and all stubbornly controlled by their own conceptions. King Deuel of Pomperol is an ardent ornithologist, King Milo of Blaloc ordinarily consumes a gill of aquavit before he rises from bed in the morning. The court at Avallon seethes with erotic intrigues, and King Audry's chief catamite wields more influence than the Lord General Sir Ermice Pro-pyrogeros. Our policy therefore is flexible. At minimum, we hope for polite interest and a perception of our power."
Trewan frowned and pursed his lips. "Why be content with modesty and half-measures? I would hope in my conversations to achieve something closer to the maximum. I suggest that we arrange our strategies more on these terms."
Sir Famet, tilting his head back, showed a cool thin smile to the evening sky and drank wine from his beaker. He set the vessel down with a thump. "King Granice and I have established both strategy and tactics, and we will adhere to these procedures."