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. "From
there we can go upriver to Solace itself."
"Who is master of this SKELTER?"
"One Graff, a mariner of many years' experience on
these seas."
"Very good, Sergeant. And when do we sail?"
"With the morning tide, my lady."
WITH THE MORNING TIDE. Sturm repeated those
words over and over in his head. Since leaving the castle, he
had imagined their quick deliverance. He would hear a
sharp tattoo of hoofbeats behind, and Lord Bright-blade
would gallop over the hill at the head of a troop of
horsemen. "Come back! All is well!" he would shout. How
would his father ride to them across the sea? The answer
was clear, and Sturm did not like it.
The good ship SKELTER lay fast against a long wooden
pier. Short and round, she was freshly caulked and painted.
Sturm wondered what exotic cargoes had been carried
under the green planking of her hull.
Dark-skinned sailors clung to the rigging, doing
mysterious things with lengths of rope and bundles of
sailcloth. Sturm never took his eyes off them as he trailed
after his mother and Soren down the pier. The captain of the
SKELTER greeted them at the foot of the gangplank. He
clasped his own hands across his belly and bowed shortly to
Lady Ilys
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