‘We’ll see,’ his uncle answered.

The first mate just nodded, rather insolently, and ambled off.

‘Can you get us through there, lad?’ Tulan whispered to Reuth as they faced out over the waters, away from the crew.

‘I think so,’ he said, with far more certainty than he felt.

‘Well,’ his uncle answered in an almost apologetic sigh, ‘seems we’ve no choice in the matter now. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.’

‘So we might as well.’

His uncle didn’t speak for a time and Reuth glanced over; he found the older man eyeing him with something like surprise. Tulan grinned then, and cuffed him, far harder than usual. ‘There you are, lad!’ he exclaimed. ‘This voyage will make a man out of you yet.’

Reuth rubbed his shoulder. ‘If I live long enough …’ he muttered.

Tulan jerked a thumb out towards the narrows. ‘What do you think?’

Reuth just shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. The crew won’t follow my commands.’

‘They’ll bloody well follow mine. ’Least till they throw me overboard.’ He leaned down to rest his thick forearms on the railing. ‘These fools are such asses that all you have to do is give me the commands and I’ll shout ’em out.’

‘Would that really work?’

‘Sadly so, lad. Sadly so.’

Reuth shook his head in disbelief. Seemed he truly was learning a lot on this trip regarding the nature of men. He returned to studying the mouth of the narrows.

An angry hiss from his uncle brought his attention round to the stern. Three vessels were coming up from the south, all alike in cut and banners: three fat merchant ships specially altered for fighting, with archers’ castles fore and aft.

‘Where do they come from?’ his uncle asked.

Reuth frowned as he ransacked his memory of the sheets of ships’ sigils and heraldry he’d scanned. Plain dark blue field, a black chair or throne, with horizontal bars of gold beneath. Then he had it. ‘Lether.’

His uncle grunted. ‘Hunh. No competition at sea from them then.’

Reuth agreed with his uncle’s assessment. Not known for their seamanship, those Letherii merchants.

The gathered Stormguard suddenly raised a great ruckus, cursing and raising their spears at a ship now hugging the side of the Lady. It dropped anchor not very far from them.

Reuth saw immediately why: it was an obvious pirate vessel, a long low galley.

‘Bastard chisellers!’ Storval yelled. ‘Ready to ride our wake in, the scum. I’d like to swing over and clear their boards.’

Reuth studied the figures crowding the deck: a large contingent of warriors. Most in metal armour, banded or mail, with shields. All in similar dark tabards. Quite grim-looking, too. Serious and watchful. Reuth wasn’t sure that the Korelri swordsmen would have an easy time of it.

He returned to watching the eddies and churning currents. If these pirates – if that was what they were – wanted to try to follow them in then they were welcome to do so. Personally, he didn’t think they’d have any chance.