The cheers hadn't fully died before the crowd began to thin, sailors and marines drifting back toward their duties with reluctant glances over their shoulders. But even before the space cleared entirely, two figures cut through the air like prow through water, parting the ring of men without raising their voices or lifting a hand.
Float Admiral Bloodworth came first, heavy coat shifting with each step, the dark green-coal threadwork glinting subtly in the slanting sunlight. Beside him strode a narrower man, taller than Bovras, leaner, with dark, short hair and a beard braided down to the center of his chest. The braid was tight and precise, heavy with the weight of discipline. The man bore no expression, only a flat, weatherworn frown that looked carved into his face like a mask.
