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“I see,” answered Menelcar simply. Even he could recognize that there was little else Hereric could have done – but that did not mean that he would laud the captain for it.
“The other ships will have to be alerted, of course,” he continued, speaking more to Telumehtar than Hereric, “and a plan of attack must be made. The Corsairs will probably know of our coming ere long, but we must give them as little time as possible to prepare for the counter-attack.”
His gaze strayed once more to the ominous wisp of smoke on the horizon. Time – all the problems came back to this. They needed time to slow down while the boats made their woefully slow way down the river. They needed time to plan their attack. After all, they had not expected battle nearly so soon, not until they had reached the sea, at least. But they could only work with the situation as it was and the time and resources as they had.
“Come,” he urged the king. “Have Hereric pass the message on to the other ships, and let us go and work out a battle strategy.” Then, so as not to appear too eager to be rid of Hereric’s company, he added to the captain with a hint of skeptical derision: “Unless, of course, you have anything to add?”
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