Calliope stood on the quarter deck as Sketti bellowed for hands aloft. The crew scurried up the ratlines and began the laborious task of reefing the royals. The afternoon breeze was stiffening and though the Weather Witch would cheerfully have carried all the canvas her masts could hand, they were running the risk of out pacing the corsair ships a'leeward. The galleys only had a single main sail and beyond that relied on their oars to force their way back up the coat of Arad Lind.

Through her spy glass she could easily see the three Bloodaxe ships mostly maintaining their positions between the Witch and the rocky coast. After some discussion they had decided to leave one of the galleys behind, stiffening their own crew with those who appeared to Sketti to be competent seamen. That cut down on the number of ships they had to worry about as well as bringing their crew up to something close to its proper strength. The former Blood Axes seemed reluctant to mingle with their crewmates but Calliope had no doubt they would do as sailors. They were, after all, literally all in the same boat. Markus had also decided to leave the remaining Blood Axe ships under their own captains and officers. The Blood Axes seemed to view this as a vote of confidence from their new chief though Calliopie, with better access to Markus' thoughts knew that it was actually more to do with the lack of experienced officers among their own crew. Sketti could probably have handled one of the ships and Halvdar, familiar as he was with the oar driven long ships of the north, might have managed another, but every other man jack of them were square rig sailors without the skills to handle the lateen rigs of the the galleys. Given that, Markus had decided that putting his own officers in place wasn't worth stripping the witch of her bosun.

Not that it seemed to matter. The Blood Axes had no mages and were caught between a hostile shore and the Weather Witch's guns. Any attempt to rebel against their new chief would be brief, and end with ships splintered against the rock coast. Calliope stomach rumbled in upset and she leaned over the railing and spat a mouthful of phlem and other, less identifiable matter into the sea. She had been violently sick out of the porthole of her cabin earlier, and though she couldn't swear to it, she thought their had been fragments of bone mixed with the bile. That raised a number of unpleasant questions which, for the moment she preferred not to think about. Unconsciously her fingers traced over the tattoo of the dragon that had inked itself onto her body when the amulet had dissapeared. All was well, she told herself.

"Down watch!" Sketti boomed, the reefing having evidently been accomplished to his satisfaction and the crew, save the top men and lookouts, slid back down the ratlines to return to their normal duties. It would be dark soon and she could smell the stew that was cooking in the galley below, preparatory for the rum ration and dinner. Darkness would be their cover then for the final approach to Dalib Sahara, though given that cities tall towers, it was unlikely to mask them completely. Still ships approaching the city would be no cause for alarm, not until they recognized them as belonging to the Blood Axes, or until the Vizier's agents told him a ship that he thought he had sent to its death was sailing into the harbor. Calliope raked her tongue along her teeth. She was looking forward to having that conversation with the vizier.