“And?” said Meas.
Joron realised he was enjoying the story. Arrin was a good tale teller.
“I explained that I needed to speak to the woman on the scaffold, and the headwoman and I had a disagreement.” He pointed at the cut on his face. “As you can see.”
“Did you lose anyone?”
“No, thankfully. They could not stand up to my deckchilder, but sadly I no longer have a spy on Kwiln Howe, though I at least have one more crew member.”
“I hope the information was worth it.”
“I think so,” said Arrin. He passed Meas a piece of parchment with symbols scrawled on it. “She had this for you. I do not know the code so cannot tell you what it says. And she had other information for me which I will give you now. There is a patrol running up and down the Gaunt side of the sound.” He traced a circle on the map with his finger. “This is the route they take. A pair of two-ribbers and a four-ribber.”
“So we are equally matched with them,” said Meas.
“Well, maybe not,” said Arrin. “Coming back we saw them, beautiful ships with light purple wings, the colour of twilight. The four-ribber has four corpselights, each two-ribber has two, and they are all the blue of firstlight, so we know they are well maintained ships with no damage.”
“Ours are hardly falling apart,” said Meas.
“They still have the advantage,” said Brekir, staring at the table. “No doubt they are straight out of dock, newly fitted out, no weed on their bones to slow them. And the deckchilder always think a ship with the lights of life has an advantage over a dead ship.”
“Unfortunate, but it cannot be helped,” said Meas. “Do they have gullaime?”
“I only saw them from a distance but the four-ribber, I think it is the Wavebreaker, was going against the wind so it, at least, must have gullaime aboard.”
“Hopefully it wears them out and they will be windsick by the time we arrive,” said Brekir.
“No,” said Arrin. “This island here” – he touched a point on the map right in the middle of the circlular course the ships were sailing – “has a windspire. Probably why they are happy to use the gullaime so carelessly.”
“Blasted hearts,” said Meas. “Aelerin,” she said, “if we come through the sound and head immediately north, can we outrun the Gaunt Islander ships?” Aelerin leaned over the chart, and Joron thought he could hear the courser’s gentle voice as they worked the complicated mathematics of wind and current through in their head.
“No, Shipwife. I do not think that is the song the winds sing me,” said the courser. “The deep-water channel twists, and we will often have the storm against us, so it will slow us if we must follow the arakeesian. The Gaunt Islander ships can cut between the islands and use their gullaime and the prevailing winds to catch us.”
“Why not just leave the keyshan?” said Oswire. “Run ahead and wait for where it rejoins. We have seen what it can do to a boat; I do not think a boneship would fare any better.”
Meas nodded slowly, more to herself than any other, but Joron knew she was thinking of the poisoned bolts in the hold. If Indyl Karrad had found some, there was no guaranteeing that the Gaunt Islanders did not have them too. It was unlikely, Joron was sure of that, but also not a chance he thought Meas could take.
“What if they have—” he began, and Meas’s head came up, her eyes locked with his, and he realised that she must not have shared everything with her fellow shipwives. He had been about to give up more than she wished. “—more ships somewhere?” he said.
Meas’s glare turned to a nod.
“My deckkeeper is right. No, we cannot let them near the keyshan.”
“So,” said Brekir, “we stay with the arakeesian and get ready to fight a running battle. It will not go well as they have the advantage in first lighted ships and gullaime. They can wear us down from a distance – all they must do is match us shot for shot. And if they know the keyshan routes, they can lay in wait to ambush us where they wish.”
“They will do that too,” said Arrin. “I knew Wavebreaker’s shipwife – she was a friend, once.”
Meas leaned forward and put a hand on Arrin’s arm.
“It is hard to fight your own. Especially when you were close once.”
Arrin nodded.
“We waste our time and our lives,” said Oswire. “The beast is stronger than any ships.”
“I think the decision is made, Deckkeeper,” said Arrin. The look on his face was one of acceptance. “What we do, it is for a higher cause, ey?”
“It is.” Meas leaned back in her chair. “Mevans, could you ask the gullaime to come through. Ask it politely.”
“You bring a windtalker into the shipwife’s cabin?” said Oswire. “That is not the way things are—”
“We find new ways, Deckkeeper,” said Meas. She stressed Oswire’s rank, and something burned in the Gaunt Islander’s eyes that Joron did not much like.
The gullaime, when it appeared, came in slow and hesitantly, pausing part way through each step with its foot raised, then it made a snapping motion with its beak as if catching something from the air, before finally rounding the table much more quickly, so it stood by Joron.
“Joron Twiner,” it croaked. Joron noticed that all those around the table, Meas and Aelerin excepted, had moved slightly further away from him and the windtalker.
“Gullaime,” said Meas, “thank you for coming to us.” The gullaime made a clicking sound in response. Meas drew the circular course of the Gaunt Islanders’ ships on the map. “Conventional tactics tell us when confronted by an equal force to hang back and fight a war of attrition or avoid combat completely.”
“Avoiding is best,” said Brekir.
“Arrin,” said Meas, “you said you knew the shipwife of the Wavebreaker. Is she good?”
“Yes,” said Arrin. “Not spectacular, but competent.”
“Were I her,” said Meas, “I would stay at range and try to slow us while sending off one of my two-ribbers to gather every flukeboat possible. Then they could ambush us with as much force as they could muster, the boneships covering the flukeboats so they can board us.”
“That would work,” said Arrin. “There are troops at the towers, and on several of the islands around there are villages and towns that will send women and men if called.”
“Then we must attack the boneships as soon as we leave the sound.”
“It will be carnage,” said Brekir. “We have been at sea for months; they will be fresh to the fight and fully crewed. They will likely destroy us if we go broadside to broadside.”
“Then we will not do that.”
“What do you mean, Meas?” said Arrin.
“They will travel with the two-ribbers line astern behind the big ship. We will do the same. When they see us approach they will think we mean to go broadside to broadside.”
“That is how ships such as ours fight,” said Brekir, “filthy as the work is. Side on side until one ship can no longer shoot back or burns.”
“But we will not fight that way,” said Meas. “Gullaime.” The windtalker’s head snapped round. “Can you give us enough wind for all three ships? I want to fly between the rump of the four-ribber and the beak of the first two-ribber.”