“Oh, but they are, Mr. Temple,” a voice declared. Wyatt exited the forecastle and came jogging toward them. A bright white shirt offset his tawny skin and black hair. “I know these men, old mates of mine. The little one is Royce Melborn, as fine a topman as they come. And the big one is, ah …”

“Hadrian.” Royce spoke up.

“Right, of course. Hadrian’s a fine cook—he is, Mr. Temple.”

Temple pointed toward Royce. “This one’s a topman? Are you joking, Wyatt?”

“No, sir, he’s one of the best.”

Temple looked unconvinced.

“You can have him prove it to you, sir,” Hadrian offered. “You could have him race your best up the ropes.”

“You mean up the shrouds,” Wyatt said, correcting him.

“Yeah.”

“You mean aye.”

Hadrian sighed and gave up.

The master did not notice as he had been focused on Royce. He sized him up, then shouted, “Derning!” His strong, raspy voice carried well against the ocean wind. Immediately, a tall, thin fellow with leathery skin jogged over.

“Aye, sir?” he responded respectfully.

“This fellow says he can beat you in a race to loose the topsail and back. What do you think?”

“I think he’s mistaken, sir.”

“Well, we’ll find out.” The master turned back to Royce. “I don’t actually expect you to beat Derning. Jacob here is one of the best topmen I’ve seen, but if you put in a good showing, the two of you will have jobs aboard. If it turns out you’re wasting my time, well, you’ll be swimming back. Derning, you take starboard. Royce, you have port. We’ll begin after Lieutenant Bishop gives permission for us to get under way.”

Mr. Temple moved toward the quarterdeck and Wyatt slid down the stair rail to Royce’s side. “Remember what I taught you last night … and what Temple said. You don’t need to beat Derning.”

Hadrian clapped Royce on the back, grinning. “So the idea is to just free the sail and get back down alive.”

Royce nodded and looked apprehensively up at the towering mast before him.

“Not afraid of heights, I hope.” Wyatt grinned.

“All right, gentlemen!” Mr. Temple shouted, addressing the crew from his new position on the quarterdeck. “We’re having a contest.” He explained the details to the crew as Royce and Jacob moved to the base of the mainsail. Royce looked up with a grimace that drew laughter from the rest.

“Seriously, he isn’t afraid of heights, is he?” Wyatt asked, looking concerned. “I mean, it looks scary, and well—okay, it is the first few times you go aloft, but it really isn’t that hard if you’re careful and can handle heights.”

Hadrian grinned at Wyatt, but all he said was, “I think you’re going to like this.”

An officer appeared on the quarterdeck and stood beside the master. “You may set sail, Mr. Temple.”