Sor-Arhan was the most miserable noble in the entire Island Kingdom. Fallen from a place of stature as one of the Great Lords of the Citadel where he had land, riches and the King's favor, he paced the flagship of his fleet anxious to redeem himself. Five of the ships were his own fief, crewed by captains and men loyal to him. The other four were those of a minor lord, Bar-Melath, who was being rowed across from his flagship to conference with Sor-Arhan. Sor-Arhan didn't want him and his ships on the off chance that the glory might go to him instead but that damned spymaster had insisted it was the King's orders. At least Bar-Melath had traded with the Spires for some years so would have some knowledge of these waters but it galled Sor-Arhan that the King assumed he needed help when the odds were already five to one.
The boson signalled that the other Lord was alongside and Sor-Arhan waited to greet him. as Bar-Melath climbed up and onto the deck of the Fearless, he was everything Sor-Arhan had imagined. He wore his hair in the latest brash style and was festooned with the clothing and trinkets of a courtier. Clearly whatever seamanship this poppycock learned was years ago. Thought Sor-Arhan spitefully. Outwardly, Sor-Arhan was all smiles.
"Greetings, Milord. Welcome aboard."
Bar-Melath bowed gracefully. "Thank you, Milord. It is an honor to serve with you on His Majesty's business." They both knew that was a lie but convention demanded it.
"On to business, Milord? My steward has prepared a small lunch in my cabin." Without waiting for a reply, Sor-Arhan led the way. After a few minutes of polite back and forth the steward began serving the food. Of course, the 'small lunch' was as extravagant as possible while at sea. Sor-Arhan had to remind his fellow Lord that he was, at least once, a Great Lord.
The talk turned to strategy. "I will take the lead position and have my ships spread out on either side of me, close enough to signal but far enough away to catch any ship that might be in this waters. Your ships will lay out to either side of mine." Sor-Arhan could see right away that Bar-Melath didn't like this plan. Splitting his ships up gave Sor-Arhan more control and a greater chance that at least one of his ships would be involved in the sinking or capture of the spy vessel. Sor-Arhan allowed himself a very slight smile, which Bar-Melath noticed.
"Very well Milord," Bar-Melath conceded. "I will so order my captains. May I suggest, Milord, that we communicate each watch to insure all ships are still in range? Sometimes the wind and water in these seas can be deceiving." Sor-Arhan thought about it. No advantage to Bar-Melath and it made sense. He nodded.
"Agreed. Good hunting, Milord. I am told by Milord Jor-Barnk that we are to maintain station as long as possible. Personally, I expect the spies to be careless at sea and that we shall have them in a week." Sor-Arhan though nothing of the sort and had provisioned for months at sea but he wanted the other to think otherwise. Whoever these spies were they had already evaded and probably sank a warship. Perhaps they were even sailing in that warship now! Hardly the acts of careless men.
Bar-Melath, had Lord Sor-Arhan known it, was thinking almost identical thoughts. Jor-Barnk had come to him privately and given him secret orders. "Sor-Arhan was the kings choice. You must appear to obey his orders, but the man is no seaman and may even be a fool. Whenever possible, let slip one of you ships and have them run down the seacoast to the Spires. One ship won't alarm suspicion and the Spires are used to having our vessels about. But be warned. They have already surprised and sank or captured one of our vessels. Do not underestimate these men!"
Bar-Melath could easily make up signals indicating he had heard from the ship on his end of the line and keep Sor-Arhan in the dark forever. Not allowing even a hint of his satisfaction at how things turned out to show on his face, he returned to his tender and his ship.
