Thirty-SevenTamatan woke with a start as the boat lurched on a wave. “What is happening?” he said to no one in particular.
“Sea's picking up,” said Sica. “The wind is coming from our shores. If this keeps up we will be at Mantz far quicker. You want some breakfast?”
“What is on the menu this morning, my friend?”
“The same as yesterday. You'll find what you need in the galley.” Tamatan looked up, spotting Sica smiling down at him from his position at the rear of the boat. He was holding the wheel with one hand, whilst eating a flatbread filled with yellow whale flesh. Next to him say a clay jug, of what Tamatan guessed was cyder. He suddenly felt hungry. After relieving himself over the side of the boat, he headed rear, towards the small galley that hugged the right side of the vessel. T
