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Malspire, Page 2

Nikolai Bird

  ***

  Darkness. A darkness full of murmuring voices. I knew that time was passing, tick tock, tick tock. I awoke occasionally. Firstly I was on the surgeons table, my ravaged back being seen to. It was not time to wake up yet. I slept on. Next was a dark room. It was my cabin. Feeling the rumble of the engine, I heard the thrashing of the paddlewheel. My body was tight with bandages and it was too hot. Somebody was there in the darkness. That blessed person gave me water. I slept again and dreamt of my mother, a person I have never met, but knew what she looked like from her many portraits at the castle. She would smile at me, yet look sad for not being there. At least I liked to think so. Ajator was there too. He had his mother's looks. Ajator was always there. Even when a thousand miles away, I could feel Ajator; like a beacon of light in a dark room, my brother stood guard and scared away the baying phantoms, but in the darkness was also something else. It did not show itself for it too was wary of Ajator, but it was there and my brother could not see it nor seemed to know of it. I could not see it either, but I felt it. A clock was ticking, its rhythm slowing with every swing of the pendulum. It felt like the end was coming and Ajator could not see it. The clock stopped.

  Opening my eyes, it was pitch black. I felt around and realised I was in my small cabin still. Sitting up, I winced at the sharp pain. My back was tight, and wounds cracked under the movement. How long had I slept for? Reaching across from my cot to the desk, I found my silver tinderbox. Opening the box I felt for the flint and steel, then ran the flint along the steel showering blinding sparks into the box at the back of which was a section of char cloth. Blinking away the sparks, I saw a small lick of flame on the cloth. Then I took a piece of ripped paper from the tinderbox and lit this. Using the fragile flame, I managed to light a small oil lamp and snapped the tinderbox shut.

  It was a simple cabin with a cot, desk and chair, chest and cupboard with hardly enough room for one man to stand in. All the furniture apart from the chair was crudely nailed to the floor. My cot was clean which surprised me. I looked down and saw my body was wrapped in white bandages. They too were clean. I was weak, but alive.

  It transpired that I had been asleep for eight days and the Sea Huntress was again heading north for the Imperial Emben capital of Norlan - the ancient island city at the heart of the Emben Empire.

  "We thought you was a goner, sir," said Willan, one of the cabin boys. "You had a fever and there was blood and puss everywhere."

  I half sat in my cot where the boy had found me. The first thing I did was order Willan to fetch water, wine and broth which the skinny boy quickly did; an eager lad, not yet ruined by the world.

  "You feeling better now, sir?"

  "I'm alive," I croaked, gulping down the wine. I felt awful but relieved to have survived the flogging.

  "Harl reckoned you had been left for dead. That flail was fouled. Someone's got it in for you, sir. He saw to it that you got looked after though."

  "Harl?" I asked, but thinking of Crosp. The man had fouled the flail, or had someone do it! That was tantamount to attempted murder.

  "Aye. Doctor Feasler came and went but he didn't do nothing. He would sniff the air, check your wrist, then go again. Harl had you cleaned and given water. I helped," Willan added enthusiastically.

  I now remembered being given water. It was like tasting the cool tears of an angel. Feasler was a snivelling coward who constantly worried about contagion and rot. The man would have cabin boys touch his patients for him rather than get his own hands grubby. He was constantly sniffling or complaining about some ache or pain.

  "It seems I owe you my thanks, Mister Willan."

  "Nah. Nothing worse than washing me old nan, sir. Anyway, Mister Harl made me."

  I remained in my cabin for another six days and was visited regularly by Willan who brought me my food and drink and emptied my bucket. The pain was awful whenever I moved, and the bandages had to be replaced every day to stop the rot. Peeling off the cloth was excruciating as it opened wounds and pulled at the tender flesh. Willan helped apply a poultice which one of the crewmen provided and swore by. All I knew was that the fatty mixture looked foul and smelt worse. After this, a new bandage was wrapped tightly round me. The captain seemed to have forgotten me as there was no visit by any officer, nor a summons by Crosp. Feasler did appear on the second day after I had awoken and checked my pulse after which he wiped his hands on a handkerchief and then hesitated before putting it back into his pocket, deciding, I suppose, it was worth the risk of infection to save on the cost of a new cloth.

  "You'll live," Doctor Feasler announced, and then quickly departed. The man had obviously been holding his breath and had to retreat once he made the statement. I could well imagine the stink in the stuffy cabin. Mister Harl never appeared, but Willan had passed on my gratitude.

  Eventually I returned to duty. I was still weak and could have spent another few days in my cot, but boredom was ever my worst enemy. The first thing I did was wash and shave as best I could from a bowl, then tenderly put on my uniform, my long dark waxed coat and old fashioned tricorn hat as well as the three buttoned cloak, then I made my way to the captain's cabin. It was getting late, the sun had set and the stars were out. There was a fresh easterly breeze of welcome clean air that I breathed in as deeply as I could without hurting my bandaged back. To starboard one could just make out the distant silhouette of land with the odd flare of coastal settlements. I reckoned we were off the western coast of Horat, the northern most peninsula of the Southern Lands. A few shadows stood at the helm watching the seas, but took no notice of me as I made my way to the captain's door. Knocking, I was left standing for a while.

  "Enter!"

  On entering the captain's cabin I found Crosp sitting at his desk surrounded by his ridiculous stuffed pets, eyes glistening in the light of a single lantern hanging from the beams above the desk and a candle on the desk itself. Crosp had been studying a small chart. He said nothing as I stood to attention before him, fixing my gaze on a point on the rear windows as always.

  "The doctor told me you were recovering," Crosp then said. "Took you long enough, Ardalrion."

  "I wish to report for duty, sir," I said, ignoring the captain's criticism.

  "I see. I presume you have learnt your lesson?"

  "I have, sir." I had learnt to watch out for Crosp. I had learnt that I needed allies. I had learnt that I would shoot Crosp point blank in the face with my pistol before taking another lashing. The man had tried to murder me, but there was no way to prove it. Not now. Crosp was the highest authority on the ship. I just had to play it safe for now.

  The captain seemed disappointed. The news that I might not survive my wounds had probably raised his hopes, but now I stood before him. Of course there would have been awkward questions asked if the son of a lord admiral had died from a flogging, but I knew that Crosp was well aware of the Lord Admiral's low regard for me and Crosp probably reckoned he would get off lightly. Cynically, I thought my father probably would have promoted the swine.

  Crosp looked over at a large wood and brass encased sea clock, "It would seem you are in time for the night watch. You may resume your duties, Mister Ardalrion. The night watch is yours. Check with the navigation officer." Crosp went back to studying his chart.

  And so I simply walked out and took the castle. The night watch was a long stint at the helm which ran through the night from the first watch which ended at midnight to the forenoon watch which started at breakfast. I had hoped to return to this watch as it enabled me to avoid the other officers and captain most of the time. It gave me time to think and watch the stars. I loved the stars, always have, and long to see them again. I knew the stars well by now and would marvel at the spectacle on a clear night when there were no other lights about, and wonder at how crystal clear the galaxy was. The masters of astromancy wrote that the heavens where made up of a million stars, all of which were gathered into the galaxy and that the sun was but one of them. Of course the Church of
Creation riled at such a notion, but it made sense to me. Tonight the moon was out and half full, riding low on the horizon.

  Kravda, a portly sailor whom I remembered seeing enjoy the prospect of my flogging was at the wheel. A man was in the crow's-nest and a couple more were on the aftcastle acting as lookouts. The compass told me we were heading directly north and after checking with the navigation officer, I was pleased to discover that I had been right in thinking that we were passing the Horat peninsula to the east. Willan, the cabin boy soon appeared and brought a warm broth for me and the watch.

  "My thanks, Mister Willan," I said, taking the steaming mug. "Is Mister Harl awake?"

  "Yes, sir. Just gave me a clip round the ear, sir, for bad language," said Willan, rubbing a red ear.

  I could not help raise an eyebrow." Have him see me at his convenience, boy."

  Not long after, the weathered Harl asked for permission to come up to the castle, but instead of inviting him up, I joined him down on the main deck.

  "You wanted to see me, sir?"

  "I did. Let's walk." We started along the deck. "I hear you do not approve of foul language."

  Harl guessed what I was alluding to. "Not in the boys, sir. Not in the innocent."

  "Of course." I paused and considered the innocence of children. As far as I could recall, children were the most heartless and cruel of critics without conscience nor remorse. I had learnt this the hard way and had nothing more to add to the topic and so said instead, "I wanted to thank you for the care you provided."

  Harl did not answer.

  "Mister Willan tells me I might have died if you had not intervened."

  "He talks too much. I wouldn't pay him no heed, sir."

  "All the same, I am indebted to you, Mister Harl."

  Harl seemed uncomfortable. I knew that the man had no particular liking for officers - few sailors did. I could not blame them. I thought of offering the man some money. I wanted to, but I did not want to risk an insult. There were charities run by rich old ladies in the city for crippled sailors. I could offer money in Harl's name, but I had heard the crew scoff at such things and talk of how the rich hypocrites would simply pay their way into the heavens. After a moment’s silent walking and inspection of the ship I pointed out that it was a fine ship.

  “Aye, sir. She’s well looked after and run tight.”

  For all Crosp’s flaws, I had to admit that the captain’s harsh methods seemed to work, as the Sea Huntress was always in fine condition with a drumming engine and crew ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

  “The crew seem competent,” I added. Harl grunted in agreement.

  We reached the forecastle and I stopped to take out my pipe, indicating that Harl could do the same if he so wished. I had taken to smoking a pipe while at the Academy, and purchased one carved from sea monster bone with a metal cap to protect the tobacco from the wind. What type of sea monster it was, I never found out, but assumed it was the kind that gets washed up on some lonely strand; either that or a goat. It was a long and curved thing, perhaps a little extravagant for my tastes. I thought it added to my years. Harl took out a shorter, simpler affair which had naked ladies carved into it and awkwardly accepted my offer of tobacco. For a long while we stood in silence, watching the reflection of stars and moon on the waves. Dolphins were teasing the ship's bow, rising and diving in graceful arcs. My back was hurting and I did not try to stand straight and so bent over my pipe in what was my natural posture. Harl stood a respectful distance behind. The pipe had reminded me of the Academy. As the sons of a lord admiral, My twin Ajator and I were expected to join the Imperial and Ardalrion Navy, and so at the age of fourteen, in the year 34320, we were both sent to the Imperial Naval Academy of Norlan to study for five years before being assigned as junior officers aboard a ship. It seemed like such a long time ago now.

  After days at sea, a canal boat trip and a short carriage ride, we brothers were left standing in the rain at the foot of the steps to the academy without servant nor guard, on our own with a letter from the Lord Admiral to the captain of the academy. High above us loomed the ancient columns and reliefs of the austere, grand building. Around us were many more opulent and grand buildings lining a square known simply as Admiral Square.

  "I never realised the city was so big," I said and could not help but gape at the city and its grandeur ever since making port.

  Ajator laughed at my childlike awe having been to the city many times before with our father. "A million souls they say. I told you it wasn't like Ardalrion."

  I grunted a chuckle now as I stood on the forecastle with Harl. The sailor kept his silence.

  I remembered a horse and cart trundle by, the driver hunched low against the rain. People ran from door to door to avoid getting wet. Some had umbrellas while others used the large newspapers as cover. A gaudy naval officer had a servant in a top hat holding a large umbrella over him while another placed himself in the puddles so his lord would not get his feet wet. Gods forbid a noble naval officer ever get his feet wet. The world would come to an end!

  We each had a large trunk, which we helped one another lug up to the mighty entrance where we were met after ten minutes of exhausting work by a sour faced doorman who took the letter and scanned it with a critical eye. The doorman's name was Groblot and he hated students. Groblot kept mumbling as he read the letter and glanced irritably at the pool of water coming off we bedraggled brothers. When satisfied with the document, the man grudgingly pointed the way to the administrative offices with a bony finger and grunted something about not dragging the trunks along the marble floor. Eventually we presented ourselves to Captain Harkorn, the captain of the academy.

  "Discipline is the glue that holds the Navy together!" he told us. "You understand?"

  "Yes, sir," we both chorused, standing to attention.

  "Did the duke teach you discipline?"

  "Yes, sir," we lied. The duke doted over Ajator and mostly ignored me. I was ever the embarrassment to our father who preferred to keep me out of sight and leave my upbringing to the staff, a task they resented.

  "We run a tight ship here at the Academy," Harkorn continued. He liked to stroll round his office as he spoke, stopping at his window on each round to look out over the square through the raindrop streaked glass. The room was lined with oak panelling, with a thick rug placed on oak floorboards. It reminded me of captain's cabin with a table set aside for charts and maps, a compass in the corner, a ship's clock on the wall and sea lanterns hanging from thick wooden beams. It seemed to me that the captain missed being at sea when he spoke wistfully of the wooden ships and their brave crews.

  Now I had been to sea for eight months. Eight months of putting up with the contempt of the captain and officers, and eight months of being alone. I had seen my brother on two occasions since leaving the academy. We both missed one another but Ajator seemed to be getting on well in his new role. So was I, to a certain degree. I loved the seas and my travels. I enjoyed hunting the enemies of the Empire and the thrill of boarding a vessel, although so far we had had few reasons to run out the guns and had never met any resistance when boarding a ship. I would be the first to admit that I was a craven man, but I did find it exciting if not a release from the boredom that would so easily set in, and when that happened, I would invariably get into trouble.

  With Harl standing behind me, I realised that I had the chance to kill two birds with one stone. One of the odd features of an Imperial Naval officer's education was the distinct lack of studying anything to do with the mechanics of operating a ship. At the academy I was expected to learn the fundamentals of being an officer aboard an Imperial Naval vessel. I learnt about the Navy and its workings and the rules of combat, and tactics and strategy. I learnt etiquette together with navigation. I learnt about the classics, history, geography, philosophy, and politics. I learnt old Emben so I could read the ancient scrolls. I learnt a lot about all sorts of things but surprisingly little about the details of running
a ship. Of course that was up to other men to worry about. An officer simply gave orders - the subordinates would make it happen.

  "Have you been to the Naval Academy in Norlan, Mister Harl?" I asked, breaking the silence.

  "Only seen it from the outside, sir."

  "At ease, man." I noticed that Harl was still standing to attention behind me. "That's no way to enjoy a pipe." Harl relaxed and leant on the curving gunwale of the forecastle. "It has a long and glorious history, does the academy," I said taking another drag on the pipe. "Or so they say - the paintings and statues and poems and books."

  "I wouldn't know, sir."

  I suspected that Harl probably did know but would rather not talk, so I continued, "All I saw in those books and poetic words was a long and brutal account of bloodletting and terrorism, glorious to some and a horror to others."

  There was no doubt that the Imperial Navy was the best and most accomplished military machine in history, but that simply meant that it was better at butchering people than anyone else had ever been.

  "Forgive my cynical view of our masters, Mister Harl, but I prefer to say it how I see it. Don't get me wrong though. We have a duty and we perform a vital task. Would you agree?"

  "Aye," said Harl without enthusiasm.

  Of course, what did a sailor care? He wanted his drink and his pay and a chance at some prize money for his old age. On the whole, the Empire's business was of secondary importance.

  "My brother is an officer too. He would never agree with me. He would never let my cynicism dampen his view of the marvellous paintings that rejoice in the heroics, or the romantic poems that sing of the wooden ships and their iron men or the mighty statues that stand of gallant figures long gone."

  "He sounds like a proper officer, sir," said Harl, and when I shot him a glance I saw that Harl had meant it innocently.

  "He is. A finer man you will never meet. He is my twin, but you would never know it."

  "I did know, sir," Harl stated. This surprised me as I was sure the crew had never met my brother. I gave Harl a questioning look.

  "I read it, sir. You and the Young Lord have been mentioned a few times in the Gazette."

  The Gazette? So Harl can read. Interesting. "The Young Lord?"

  The papers had taken to calling Ajator the Young Lord and openly talked of his bright future as a hero of the Empire and future Lord Admiral of the Imperial and Ardalrion Navy. Of course Ajator had yet to perform any heroic feats in the name of his nation but it only took one look at him to know that the man was made of finer stuff than mere mortals.

  "Aye, sir," replied Harl who obviously knew what was coming.

  "And what do they call me?"

  The man hesitated. "The Undertaker."

  I grunted. I did not show or speak of it, but in a twisted way I rather liked being called the undertaker. It suited my mood. It spoke to the young rebel in me.

  "How long have you been in the Navy?" I eventually asked Harl, returning to my original line of thought.

  "All my life, sir. Sailed from one end to the other, then back again. Top to bottom, then up again. The highways are old friends."

  I suspected as much. Harl had skin of leather and a thick seaman's slur. The Navy was the cement that bound the lands of the Empire together. The lands of Gonrah were split into thousands of islands from large land masses to tiny wind swept rocks all surrounding the Inner Ocean. The seas were the highways of the world and he who ruled the ocean, ruled the lands. The Navy claimed to rule the ocean, but in truth the Navy was stretched as thin as a strand of silk, Although none could challenge the might of the Imperial Navy, no one truly needed to for the Empire’s arm did not reach the four corners of the continent. So there was piracy and smuggling. There were enemy navies, raiders and strange ships from far off continents beyond the great Outer Oceans. Nobody knew much of those lands. I had read that few had travelled outside Gonrah, and much fewer had returned. It was said that great sea monsters awaited any who tried, and only ghosts lived beyond those Outer Oceans, so no one wanted to venture there. What did I care though? The world was a grim and unfair place and I doubted very much it was any better anywhere elsewhere.

  I wanted desperately to learn about being a seaman. I also wanted allies, and knew that the only way was to get Harl and the crew on my side and now here was the chance. This would also enable me to partly repay my debt to Harl.

  "Tell me, Mister Harl." I said, knocking my pipe on the gunwale. "How do the men spend their free time on board the ship? I sometimes hear music and laughter." I knew the answer already but wanted to engage Harl.

  Harl scratched his head with his pipe, thinking of an answer. "All sorts, sir."

  "Games? Cards?"

  Harl gave me a sideways look. It was not forbidden, but Crosp frowned upon the practice and none of the men wanted to get on the wrong side of the captain.

  "I like cards. Would it be wrong for me to join in a game with the men?" If I could simply lose money to Harl, I would be repaying him without the insult. I was good at losing money at games of chance, not that it ever stopped me; my father had deep pockets. Harl considered this for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders as though to say, what choice did he have? I was an officer. He did look concerned however.

  "I can assure you, Mister Harl, I am a poor gambler." It did not reassure the sailor. I realised I would have to be more honest. "It is a rare thing for someone to show me any kindness." This was true. All my life I had been shunned and an outcast. Only my brother had ever been a true friend. "I bore easily and I want to know more about seafaring. You and the crew have the answer to both. Perhaps if I make assurances?"

  "Such as?"

  "I will never play for more than a hand of copper heads and I will drop rank when below deck."

  Harl chewed his pipe for a moment, watching me. It was those intelligent eyes again that I had noticed in the past, but never seen him look directly into the eyes of an officer before. Harl had a duty to stick up for the men, and I accepted Harl's scrutiny for I was asking for a place where no officer should go. Of course an officer could go anywhere on the ship, but it was understood that officer's did not fraternise with the men. Eventually Harl seemed to reach a decision and simply said, "As you wish, sir."

  Days passed and I did my duty by night and rested by day. At cruising speed it would take another five days or so to round the mainland and enter the inner Emben Sea where we would finally make port.

  I was regretting not having rested longer after the lashing, finding the long nights hard to bear, but as we came within sight of Embernia's southern isles I felt my strength returning. Whatever the poultice was and however much it stank, it was working well. I would be scarred for life but at least I was alive and healing quickly. I no longer needed the bandage as tender tissue now covered the wounds and I also took to standing as straight as I could again - a habit, tiring though it was, I had forced myself to observe over many years. I felt I was ready to join the crew below decks and so decided to do so that night before my watch started.

  The crew had simple bunks all over the ship where men slept alongside other men who worked. A man got used to the noises and bustle of a ship and would indeed miss them on land, finding it hard to relax in a normal bed. Tonight however, there was not much work to be done on the gun deck as I made my way to the bow of the ship. A sailor was snoring while another was rocking himself to sleep, humming a sad tune, probably thinking of some girl.

  At the bow of the Sea Huntress was a closed off area used for storage and recreation. I made for the door where the sound of men, raucous and merry could be heard. The door and walls were removed in times of emergency to allow a clear run along the deck, but now it was closed to allow the crew a place of their own; a place that I was now going to intrude upon. I did not knock but simply opened the door and stepped into a smoke filled space that stank of sweat, ale, wine and men who lived shoulder to shoulder for months on end. It all happened so quickly that I did not have time t
o react. A shadow darted away from below me. A bellowing war cry assaulted his ears, and my vision filled with a ham sized fist that slammed with a mighty crack into my face!

  As I write this, I realise that some details may be missing, exaggerated or warped by time, but I never have and never will forget the picture in my mind’s eye of that mighty fist and the stars that followed.