Bar-Melath's orders had been followed. The Captain of the Islander warship Nomath kept her just in sight of the cliffs that ran the northern side of the island. As a result, he was in perfect position to see three Spires vessels round the bend and begin slowly moving up the coast. They are searching. What for? Wreckage? No, too careful. Too slow. They are looking for her. The ship we seek. On the coast?
Finally, the Islander realized. Calling his lookout, he said, "Watch those ships. They are seeking a hidden cove or inlet of some kind. If they find it they will disappear. Tell me immediately whatever they do!" The lookout in the Crow's Nest signalled that he had understood. The crew were mostly mercenaries, loyal because they were paid but he had sailed with them before and knew they were also efficient. Satisfied, he ordered the crew to set up the sails but not to let them out yet. This way, he could catch wind at a moment's notice while maintaining his distance from the island.
He also ordered a hot meal to be served then told his first mate, a tough female mercenary, to clear the decks after the meal. If they had to chase they might have to fight and he wanted to be ready. By mid-morning, there was no change, the ships still slowly moving as if examining every rock for holes. The steward served him a hot drink, which he took on deck. Mid-day came and no change.
Then in the early afternoon, the lookout yelled out. "New ship, Captain. Came out of nowhere. A trader it looks. One of ours?" The confusion in the last statement was understandable.
"Not ours," the Captain said loud enough for the crew to hear. "Stolen. That's the prize Lord Bar-Melath seeks. Lookout, where away the other ships?"
"Up wind, Captain. They will have to sail into the wind to catch her."
Clever little rats. They timed their move perfectly! "Prepare to release sails. First mate, I want to cut across them in that direction." The Captain pointed south east.
"Sir? If we do that we shall be behind them. Why not just cut them off?" The woman was clearly puzzled.
"We are not to catch her. We are steering her. We shall catch her when she sails into the loving arms of my Lord Bar-Melath. Meanwhile, obey my order." The mate nodded and called out a series of commands.
Thugard saw the three Spires ships and smiled grimly. They might still catch him but it would be much harder now. The wind was blowing from the south and they were now north of him. They had missed the entrance because they hadn't had a mage to tell them where it was. It was the ship ahead of him that gave him pause. It was an Islander warship and could easily cut them off and engage. Her current heading made it clear she wasn't going to but rather she was heading to chase them.
Barik shared his Captain's confusion. "They could have come at as easy. Is there captain so incompetent that he could miss his chance by so much?"
"No Sessailaine that poor a sailor would command a ship and, as much as I think little of the Islanders, they don't put fools in charge of warships. No," mused Thugard, "there is a reason for his choice even if we can't yet fathom what that might be."
Barik looked at his Captain and thought about his experience with Bron. "Captain, if you wanted to drive an animal into a trap, wouldn't you just make a lot of noise where you didn't want it to go?"
Thugard looked at Barik with surprise which slowly changed to respect. He clapped him on the shoulder. "You have the truth of it! Well said. So, he wants us to sail North West because there is a surprise waiting for us there. A fleet? Probably. Hmmm." Thugard looked again at the three ships from the Spires and considered.
"We might have no choice. Engage the Islander's ship and the Spires catch us. We go from one on one to four on one. Flee any way but west and north and the Islander ship catches us. Four on one again. Stay with the wind and we run into their waiting ships. One against an unknown number. Very, very clever." Thugard was worried but tried not to let it show. Bastards have us in a pincher.
He walked over to where Aeronwyn and the mages were standing near the stern. "Milady, if you have any suggestions I am open."
"Thugard? What is going on?" In all the time since she had first met Thugard he had never once asked anyone's opinion on how to run his ship. He must be really worried, she realized.
Thugard explained what he believed their situation to be. "Any help you might be able to give would be appreciated."
"How long do we have?" Aeronwyn asked.
"I suspect the trap will be set so we arrive somewhere after dawn. With the sun ahead of us we might not even see them until they are so close we cannot evade them at all." he replied.
"Just after dawn?" Moiril asked. "I have an idea." They all looked at her expectantly. Moiril outlined what she thought she could do, with help from the other mages.
"I think I can make it happen, Captain. If everyone lends me their strength, I think I can give you exactly what you need." Moiril grinned. "Would that do?"
Thugard nodded. "Sneaky. I like sneaky and it would even the odds."
The kept their course steady through the night. A few hours before dawn, the mages gathered on the deck and sat together in a circle. To facilitate the transfer of strength into Moiril's spell making, they sat close and held each other's hands. Keri wasn't sure how this would work but Aeronwyn had explained the night before. "Just want it. Will your magic, your power into Moiril. Not all and not all at once, just will her to be aided by you. She will do the rest."
Thugard had already issued orders to his crew who waited for the mages to succeed or fail. Moiril began. Reaching deep into her understanding of the patterns of water and air, she began to build in her mind what she saw. Hundreds, then thousands, then millions upon millions of droplets of water evaporated around them. The spell expanded as the other mages leant it strength. Rolling out from the ship in every direction, the spell lifted the water and suspended it in the air, hanging over the ocean.
The sailors watched as fog began to form around them. It was the thickest, densest fog they had seen and it seemed somehow almost alive. It lifted around them then poured out beyond their sight into the distance, bringing with it an eerie silence. They watched as the mages, silent and motionless, eyes closed and heads slightly bowed poured their energy into Moiril's crafting.
For an hour, then two, the ship rode in complete silence. Dawn broke and the sun rose but all that they could see was a white mist so thick that the steersman could not see the mast. Every sailor stood ready but silent as ordered as they ship glided through the shroud of white mist.
