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"I see." Despreaux swallowed a mouthful, her expression uneasy, and Roger took pity on her.
"Remember Marshad and Radj Hoomis' cooking, Nimashet," he told her, and she glanced at him, then visibly relaxed at the reminder of the inept Marshadan monarch's attempt to poison his "guests" ... without any notion of how alien their physiology truly was.
"Please, feel no concern," Flain said earnestly. "I assure you, our people-and especially my own family-have been preparing coll for many, many years. Care is required, but the preparation process is relatively straightforward, and no one has actually been poisoned in as long as I can recall."
"I'm sure we'll be fine, Tor," Roger said, and smiled encouragingly at Despreaux as the sergeant gamely helped herself to another generous bite of the fish.
"Yes. In the meantime," the guardsman went on with the air of someone once again seeking a deliberate subject change, "I'm fascinated by these ships you envision. Triangular sails?"
"We'll have a model built fairly quickly," Roger told him. "We could do one on a smaller scale as a demonstrator, I suppose. I was down at the harbor earlier, watching some of your shipping, and I saw that you already know how to beat to windward."
" 'Beat to windward'?" Til repeated.
"Sorry. A human term for tacking back and forth across the wind."
"Ah. Yes, we know how to tack, but it's a laborious process, and in light winds, especially, our ships often get caught in irons."
" 'In irons'?" It was Despreaux's turn to repeat a phrase, and Roger nodded.
"He means their ships lose way before they can carry across the eye of the wind onto the opposite tack. Actually, I was a bit surprised that they tack instead of wearing ship." The sergeant rolled her eyes, and he gri
"And why should that be a surprise?"
"Because they use square headsails instead of the fore-and-aft jibs we use, and those are a pain to manage," Roger told her.
"Indeed they can be," Til agreed. "And you're quite right. At least half the time, our captains do prefer to wear rather than tacking. It takes more time, but especially in light breezes, it's often the only way to be sure you get clear around. But you have a new sail plan to allow us to avoid such difficulties?"
"I wouldn't go quite that far," the prince said, "but it should certainly make tacking a lot easier. You'll be able to sail much closer to the wind, too, so you won't have to tack as often, either. It'll still be easier to sail with the wind, but this ought to simplify things for you. A lot."
"So you can sail across the sea," Flain said.
"If there are any materials to build your ships," Til added.
Roger took another bite of coll. "Poertena believes we can purchase and ca
"Still, that seems u
"True," Roger agreed. "But there doesn't seem to be an alternative."
"Well, if the Boman weren't squatting on the forests, you could get all the masts and lumber you wanted," Wes Til pointed out. "For that matter, there's a huge stockpile in D'Sley. We've sent small raids over to recover raw materials, but the Boman are onto us now. They don't want to destroy the naval supplies, either-they may be barbarians, but they understand the decadent concept of money, and they intend to sell them at some point, no doubt. But taking any more would require an army."
"Hmmm," Roger said. "We weren't aware of that. It must be making the discussion with Eleanora interesting."
"Indeed," Flain agreed. "What are they discussing, do you know?"
"Eleanora wanted to meet the person who organized the D'Sley sealift."
"Ayeiii!" Til said. "When you mentioned that they were meeting with Fullea Li'it I hoped you were jesting."
"Why?" Despreaux asked. "Is there something wrong with her?"
"She's just-" The councilor paused, searching for a word.
"She is very direct," Teel Sla'at said with a laugh. "She speaks her mind. And D'Sley wasn't nearly so open with their women as we are, so a D'Sley woman speaking her mind is ... unusual."
"She's also stubborn as a turom," Til put in.
"Then that ought to be an interesting meeting," Roger said with a smile.
"Fullea will press for your support in retaking D'Sley," Til said.
"There's no need for us to participate in that," Despreaux said. "We've done our fighting already."
"You have Bogess and Rus From to lead you," Roger pointed out, picking up another slice of orange root. "How does this do if you saute it?"
"Quite well, actually," Flain answered. "But it's more piquant with the coll fish if it's raw. The problem is that no one trusts Bogess' understanding of the weapons or the tactics. Not like they trust you and Captain Pahner."
"Ha!" Roger laughed. "You'd trust unknown aliens over a known general?"
"We would when that's the reaction of the general's own army," Til said quietly. "And the reaction of the general himself. I doubt that the Council is going to be willing to leave the safety of the walls without the support of you Marines, your commander, and your 'powered armor.' "
"Bloody hell." Roger shook his head. "We're not here to fight your wars for you."
"Oh, I think we could fight our own wars, thank you," Flain said just a bit tartly, but then he paused and gave the Mardukan equivalent of a sigh. "Or we could, if we could build the support for it," he admitted unhappily, "and it will require some impetus to convince the populace that leaving the safety of the walls is the best plan. Which it is, since hiding behind the walls is a death sentence for the city, whether it comes by starvation or assault."
"Hmmm," Roger said, finishing off his fish. "Convincing populaces is one of Eleanora's specialties."
"That it is," Despreaux said. "I think that the meeting with the D'Sley contingent is going to be interesting."