From a distance, the Gull’s Luck’s patched sections looked almost deliberate.
Merrit said the same was true of Drake’s coat.
He chose to receive this as admiration.
The repairs had taken proper yard time and money. The forward trim fitting worked within its checked range again. The ruined bay had been rebuilt for actual cargo, not covered with an optimistic sheet and declared part of the vessel’s character.
Now they had completed a paid circuit on the schedule the crew had accepted before departure.
Drake wanted a profitable, unremarkable arrival.
The ordinary household goods had already begun coming ashore. Chairs wrapped for transport, kitchen fittings, dry stock and small paid orders with their own receiving names. Some would travel toward Solitude under a later contract. These were new consignments, not old promises magically surviving undelivered in a corner of the hold.
Drake checked the current receiving marks instead of assuming the familiar quay still used the arrangement he remembered. Two gates agreed with the notes. At the third, the actual turn had changed.
