Morgan made an amused sound as he picked up a set of dividers and paced off some distances on the map. He made a grunting noise.

"Winds will be fresher close to the southern coast this time of year," Morgan mused. Markus nodded and put another forkful of egg into his mouth, considering. He tapped a chalk mark on the chart.

"We best alter course south then," he said around a mouthful of sausage, "else we would have to backtrack around the reefs." Morgan nodded his head and began to roll the chart up.

"Will three days be enough?" Emmaline asked, snatching a sausage of Markus' plate and popping it into her mouth before he could object. Morgan and Markus both snorted at the question.

"If there is a sailor who can't blow his pay in three days I've yet to meet him," Morgan explained. Markus nodded his agreement.

"Aye, they will be broke as Brettonian crofters, drunk as the Grand Theoginist, and poxed as any Marienburg whore besides," Markus snickered.

"Do we have coin to pay them with?" Emmaline asked. Markus and Morgan exchanged looks. Funds were low she knew, but she wasn't certain how low.

"We can pay the men," Markus confirmed, "but we are going to have to find some coin if we are going to have to find more coin."