"`Cept Bix here," said the head steward, gesturing theatrically with a wooden spoon. He was a fat old elf, whose sullen exterior belied an irrepressible humour. "This fellow accidently, accidently, mind you, got blowed off course past the Horn, twice."
Several of the elves chuckled and winked knowingly.
"`Course," said the steward, striking a comically thoughtful pose, "twas a tricky wind indeed. Why, it took us two days fighting upwind just to get blowed off course . . ."
"Aaargh, don't exaggerate!" said Bix, taking the wooden spoon and whacking the steward good-naturedly. "Took us half a week if it took us a day."
Even Amrhost laughed as the old dwarf cackled, showing his few remaining teeth.
Feeling at loose ends after breakfast was over, as it took the better part of that morning to get under way, Rhia found a cloak to wrap herself in and took to watching the proceedings. Though they began towing the ships almost immediately away from the docks and towards deeper water, by means of several longboats, each of which was rowed by at least a dozen strong-backed dwarves, the process took several hours. Rhia watched patiently as, one by one, the ships loosed their lines
and were towed to deeper water where they dropped anchor. When the last ship had joined them, as a body they weighed anchor, unfurled their white sails, and at last they were under way.