Seaman took the rope without knowing why, and adjusted the sails under the boatswain's directions.
The people on deck last night had been replaced one by one. A new batch took over from those who'd spent the night on deck, and at last the first mate emerged from the cabin, yawning, and took command of the ship.
The boatswain, exhausted from a long night, didn't go below to rest right away. He pulled the first mate aside at the stern and explained something to him.
"Huh?" The first mate gave a nonchalant grunt, clearly not taking it to heart.
Perhaps the boatswain realized he was making a fuss over nothing. He shook his head and went below to call up the lazybones still hiding in the cabin, so they could come out and enjoy the cold air. Now that he'd reported the only disturbance worth mentioning, he'd done his duty.
After a night and most of a day at sea, most of the work was already done. The cargo was stowed, and the sails were filled at the right angle, though not fully unfurled. Sailing the Ice Sea required careful control of speed; hitting even a modest-sized floe wouldn't be pleasant.
The ship wasn't in a hurry, either. They weren't carrying perishable goods. Ore and furs wouldn't spoil if they arrived ten days or half a month late.
With the weather clear and the wind steady, the first mate gave the sailors who were free permission to rest in groups of three or five on deck.
Normally they might have had to scrub the deck, but until they left the Ice Sea, water on the deck wouldn't dry on its own. It would turn into a slick layer of thin ice instead, so they were spared that tedious daily chore.