The Araluans and Selethen were gathered in the prow, leaving the main deck clear for the sailors to work the mast and sails. With this wind and this speed, there was no need for rowers, although the ship could mount eight long oars a side, in case the wind should drop.
Even Halt had joined them. Wisely, none of them commented on the fact that this was the first they had seen of him in the past two days. Evanlyn, Alyss and Will knew the delicate nature of Halt's stomach in the opening hours of any sea journey and they had appraised Selethen of the grey-bearded Ranger's touchiness on the subject.
Halt eyed them balefully. They were all being so obvious about not mentioning his sudden reappearance that it was even worse than if they had commented, he thought.
'Oh go on!' he said. 'Somebody say something! I know what you're thinking!'
'It's good to see you up and about, Halt,' Selethen said gravely. Of all of them, he was the most capable of keeping a straight face when he said it.
Halt glared at the others and they quickly chorused their pleasure at seeing him back to his normal self. But he could see the grins they didn't quite manage to hide. He fixed a glare on Alyss.
'I'm surprised at you, Alyss,' he said. 'I expected no better of Will and Evanlyn, of course. Heartless beasts, the pair of them. But you! I thought you had been better trained!'
Which was a particularly barbed comment, seeing how Alyss's mentor had been none other than Lady Pauline, Halt's beloved wife.
Alyss reached a hand out and touched his arm gently.
'Halt, I am sorry! It's not funny, you're right…Shut up, Will.' This last was directed at Will as he tried, unsuccessfully, to smother a snigger. 'There is nothing funny about mal de mer. It's a serious business.'
Halt was a little taken aback when he heard that. He thought he had nothing more than seasickness. An annoying problem, admittedly, but one that passed within a day or two of being at sea. But Alyss seemed to believe it was something far more exotic. And the more exotic an illness was, the more life-threatening it might be.
'Malldy-mur?' he said with a twinge of anxiety. 'What is this Malldy-mur?'
'It's Gallican,' Alyss told him. She had used the phrase because she knew how much Halt hated the word 'seasick'. If one were wise, the word was never even uttered in Halt's presence. She glanced at the others but they offered no help. None of them would meet her gaze. You got yourself into this, they seemed to be saying. Now you can get yourself out.
Halt was right, she thought. They were heartless beasts.
'It means…"seasick",' she finished weakly.
'I thought you spoke Gallican, Halt,' said Evanlyn.
He drew himself upright with some dignity. 'I do. My Gallican is excellent. But I can't be expected to memorise every obscure phrase in the language. And Alyss's pronunciation leaves a little to be desired.'
The others hastened to agree that no, he certainly couldn't, and yes, her pronunciation certainly did. Halt looked around them, feeling that honour had been suitably restored. It has to be admitted that, in a sneaking way, while he hated the discomfort of seasickness, once he was over it, he enjoyed the attention and sympathy that it created among attractive young women like Evanlyn and Alyss. And he liked the fact that Will tended to walk on eggshells around him when the problem was mentioned. Keeping Will off balance was always desirable.
Things took a downward turn, however, as Gundar, seeing Halt upright for the first time in two days, stumped up the deck to join them.
'Back on your feet then?' he boomed cheerfully, with typical Skandian tact. 'By Gorlog's toenails, with all the heaving and puking you've been doing, I thought you'd turn yourself inside out and puke yourself over the rail!'
At which graphic description, Alyss and Evanlyn blanched and turned away.
'You do paint a pretty picture, Gundar,' Will said and Selethen allowed himself a smile.
'Thank you for your concern,' Halt said icily. Of all people, Skandians seemed the most intolerant of seasickness – or, as he now knew it, malldy-mur. He made a mental note to get Gundar on horseback as soon as they reached Nihon-Ja. Skandians were notoriously bad riders.
'So, did you find Albert?' Gundar went on, unabashed. Even Halt was puzzled by his sudden apparent change of subject.
'Albert?' he asked. Too late, he saw Gundar's grin widening and knew he'd stepped into a trap.
'You seemed to be looking for him. You'd lean over the rail and call, "Al-b-e-e-e-e-e-r-t!" I thought he might be some Araluan sea god.'
The others had to agree that Gundar's drawn-out enunciation of the name sounded very much like the sound of Halt's desperate, heartfelt retching over the side. Halt glared at the sea wolf.
'No. I didn't find him. Maybe I could look for him in your helmet.'
He reached out a hand. But Gundar had heard what happened when Skandians lent their helmets to the grim-faced Ranger while on board ship and he backed away a pace.
'No. I'm pretty sure he's not there,' he said hurriedly.
Selethen, ever the diplomat, thought it might be time to get everybody's minds off Halt's stomach.
'This is an interesting ship, captain,' he said to Gundar. 'I can't remember seeing one quite like it. And I've seen many Skandian wolfships in my time,' he added meaningfully.
Selethen was the Wakir, or local ruler, of one of Arrida's coastal provinces. He'd usually seen wolfships while they were engaged in raiding his towns. Gundar was oblivious to the reference. But, as Selethen had suspected, like any Skandian, he was eager to talk about his ship.
'She's a fine ship!' he enthused. 'Built her myself, up on the banks of a river in north Araluen – remember, Will?' He looked to Will for confirmation. Gundar and his crew, having been shipwrecked on the north coast, had been conscripted by Will to assist him in the siege of Castle Macindaw. As a reward for their services, they had been granted permission to stay in Araluen while they built a new ship for the journey home. Will had also been instrumental in making sure that timber, cordage, canvas, tar and other materials were supplied to them at the bare minimum price.
'I remember well enough,' Will agreed. 'But she was square-rigged then. This new sail arrangement is something quite different.'
'Ah yes, the Heron sail plan. It's really something,' Gundar agreed. 'We kept the hull and changed the mast, sails and rigging.'
'Why do you call it the Heron sail plan?' Alyss asked.
Gundar beamed at her. He had met Alyss at Macindaw as well, and been rewarded by a kiss on his bearded cheek when they were reacquainted in Toscana. Gundar was partial to being kissed by beautiful blondes. But he sensed there was something between this particular one and Will, so he took things no further.
'It's named for the original ship rigged this way. The Heron. Not really a ship at all – she was only three-quarters the size of a wolfship. But the mast and sail plan were a brilliant new arrangement. It was the brainchild of a young Skandian lad. A genius, he was.'
'I'd heard he was half-Araluan,' Halt put in dryly.
Gundar eyed him for a moment. Most Skandians these days chose to forget that they had sneered at the design when they had first seen it.
'Maybe he was and maybe he wasn't,' Gundar said, then continued, with a total lack of logic, 'But it was the Skandian half that came up with the design. Everyone knows Araluans know nothing about ships.'
'Really?' Halt said.
Gundar glared at him. 'Well, of course. That's why so many of them start heaving their guts up the minute they step aboard.'
Will saw the conversation heading back into danger. 'So tell us about this design. How does it work?'