The bronze man with the trident saluted as the research vessel entered port. Crispin reduced speed and headed for the royal enclosure. A palace troll, in the regulation seafaring palace troll uniform, appeared to help them moor the boat. Peter threw a line and the operation proceeded smoothly.
Crispin began to relax. They had raced back to port, at top speed, as soon as Liala and Bryn were safely in the water with the dolphins. Going to sea with only one other crew member was suspicious and he didn't want to draw attention by staying out any longer.
On top of that, there was a lot to be done. Bryn said they would want a trial run. By that he meant Plaid Koerno would stage a minor operation. When they saw the trolls fighting one another they would know that Big Brain had been subverted.
He watched as Peter and the troll worked together. Like people, trolls weren't all the same. People came out different because of the way the genes in the egg and sperm interacted. There were a lot of chance interactions unless a surrogate was manipulating the outcome on behalf of a handler.
Trolls were different because they were designed that way. The simpering bowing sort attended to the guardians' personal needs. A tougher more robust sort was needed for tougher more demanding work, like mooring a boat and cleaning out the bilges.
Crispin was turning that thought over in his mind when a figure in blue appeared at the top of the steps. The chancellor hardly ever visited the marine science laboratory and, when he did, he never used the steps. That was worrying. In all probability he wanted to know why the research vessel had gone to sea with only two crew on board.
'Your Royal Highness!'
The chancellor hardly ever used his title and, when he did, it was usually to admonish him and tell him that he was not behaving as he should.
'Good Evening, Chancellor.'
Crispin had worked out an explanation for his sudden and unannounced trip to sea. It involved a special research program which he and Peter were undertaking. He would sprinkle his account with technical words that only a marine scientists would understand.
The chancellor reached the bottom of the steps. Crispin wondered why someone of his advanced years would have used them when an elevator was available.
'I have glad tidings, Your Highness.'
Crispin had leant that glad tidings could mean almost anything. In all likelihood, he was being softened up for a blistering round of questioning. What came next was a total surprise.