"I don't like this," Henry grumbled. "I don't like it one bit. Those damned tricksy Bretons are laughing up their sleeves at us. You wait and see if they're not, Father."

"Fine sleeves they have for laughing, too," Edward said. His son gave him a dirty look. He was joking and not joking at the same time. A Breton kabig, with its hood, its wooden toggles, and its sturdy oiled cloth, was one of the best foul-weather jackets around. His own wool coat didn't shed water so well, though it was probably warmer.

One of the sailors pointed into the sea off the port bow. "Something funny floating there," he called.

"Thanks, Will," Radcliffe answered, and steered towards it. "Grab a dip net and see if you can snag it."

"I'll do that," Will said, and he did. When the St. George came up alongside of whatever it was, he thrust the pole-handled net into the sea. Grunting with effort, he pulled it in again. Another fisherman hung on to him to keep him from going over the rail. He thrust a fist in the air in triumph. "Got it, skipper-damned if I don't."

"Good for you!" Edward said, and then, to Henry, "Take the tiller for a bit, will you, lad? I want to see what he's brought in."

"Whatever it is, it won't be worth the third part of our catch-silver doesn't float," his son said. But he took his father's place at the stern.

Edward went forward, his gait automatically compensating for the cog's roll and pitch. Had he thought about how he was doing that, he probably couldn't have done it. "Well, Will, what have you got?"

"It's a leaf, like. Off a tree or a bush?" Will didn't sound sure. When Edward Radcliffe got a good look at the thing, he decided he couldn't blame the other fisherman. It was undoubtedly a leaf. But it was like none he'd ever seen before. It was bigger than a leaf had any business being. For a couple of heartbeats, he wondered if it was something on the order of a pine branch. That didn't look like a pine branch, though-it looked like a stem. And it didn't have needles growing from it. Those couldn't be anything but leaves, even if they were frondlike, almost feathery.