Pieter nodded to himself as he packed his pipe, working through the problem aloud as he spoke, "We'll have to take out the rowboat, and a few barrels of rum. If things go well, I'd imagine it'll take half the day. Anchor out a half league from us, hm, and with the way the winds have been blowing, half a league east of here. Rio can come by every hour to check on us, and we can put the lad to work and bring us home when we're done. The sea watches everyone who travels on its surface, and with the proper gifts, they'll tell us where the Barizians went." The priest shook his captain's hand as farewell, and went to collect his apprentice. 

Standing under the rigging, Pieter paused for a moment in his task to watch Uban and Rohaan clamber around the sails. When he was younger, he'd loved being in that world of sail and sky. Now he was older, and his concerns were of a more earthly, or rather, watery, bent. "Ay! Uban! Come on down! Get the rowboat ready, we've gotta talk to the locals!"

Striding away, Pieter set to work, gathering the supplies they'd need for the trip. 

---

Setting the last of the barrels down on the decking, Wheel asked the priest, "Anything else, Pieter?" "Nah, thanks for the help." Dismissed, Wheel prowled along the ship, looking for his quarry. The scrawny boy didn't look like he was up to anything important, so Wheel pounced. "Let's work on knife fighting, boy."