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armor something like that with a snap of their fingers. They’re galleons , too, not … whatever those damned smokepots are! What does that suggest?”
    â€œThat the inland ironclads are either too unseaworthy or too short-legged to make the trip from Corisande, My Lord,” Baiket said, eyes narrowed in thought. “Or maybe both.” He nodded slowly. “However those riverboats of theirs move, they’re burning something to produce all that smoke, and there has to be a limit on how much coal or wood they can load into something that size, especially if they’re also going to armor it and put guns into it.”
    â€œI think that’s probably true.” Thirsk nodded. “It’s not something I plan to count on, but one thing we have to avoid is overestimating Charis’ capabilities. I know it’s better to be pessimistic than to be overly optimistic, but we can’t paralyze ourselves with ‘what-ifs.’ Unless they have a hell of a lot more regular galleons based at Claw Island than reports suggest, we can meet their fleet on more than equal terms, and even an armored galleon needs spars to move. Between our own galleons and Lieutenant Zhwaigair’s screw-galleys—and that other project of his—I think we’d have a pretty good chance of handing them a serious defeat if they were foolish enough to come out where we can get at them. And the fact that they seem to be staying close to home at Claw Island now that they’ve retaken it suggests they may feel the same way about it.”
    â€œFor now, at least, My Lord,” Baiket said, diffidently but stubbornly, and Thirsk nodded again.
    â€œFor now,” he acknowledged. “That’s always subject to change. But it does suggest we have a little time in hand to continue to push Zhwaigair’s projects. And in answer to the point Ahlvyn raised, I assure you the Army is aware of what’ll happen to its supplies if the Imperial Charisian Navy comes east of the Narrows. Especially if they get as deep as the Gulf of Tanshar or Hankey Sound. Or, if it doesn’t, at least it’s not because Pawal Hahlynd and I haven’t talked ourselves blue in the face explaining it to Salthar and the rest of them! So even though that slash lizard at the front door seems to have an awful lot of sharp teeth, they’re still going to have to pay at least some attention to the great dragon in the pasture, and they know it.”
    He grimaced, his eyes bleak.
    â€œWe’re not going to have the kind of priority we really need, but they can’t cut us off completely, and they know it,” he told his subordinates, and prayed he was telling them the truth.
    *   *   *
    No, they probably can’t, My Lord , Sir Domynyk Staynair thought. I wish they would, but they won’t … damn it .
    The high admiral sat back from his desk in his day cabin, listening to the nighttime sounds of his flagship, and busied his hands filling the bowl of his favorite pipe with tobacco while he contemplated the imagery he’d just watched. Nahrmahn might be dead, he reflected, but that hadn’t affected his ability to recognize information other members of the inner circle needed to see.
    The notion that Thirsk almost certainly would be able to make the case against cutting the Dohlaran Navy to the bone was less than palatable for several reasons. The earl was unquestionably Charis’ most formidable naval opponent, and the time he’d had to train his fleet was rubbing off on his subordinates. Subordinates like Sir Dahrand Rohsail, for just one example. Rohsail, commanding the RDN’s Western Squadron, had demonstrated a depressing level of competence, despite the loss of his base at Claw Island. Pawal Hahlynd, the man Thirsk had chosen to command Dynnys Zhwaigair’s screw-galleys, was another case in point. And however outclassed those screw-galleys might be compared