Malspire (15 page)

Pert was losing me a bit there. I understood that water turns to steam when boiled but I did not know why it would not boil if kept in a chamber. I nodded anyway and the engineer continued.

Perti then took me further back to where two large pistons where attached to a massive metal wheel which stood deck to deck in diameter. The pistons, standing either side of the wheel pushed and pulled at two bars using joints that turned the large wheel. They hissed and sighed as some steam escaped with each rotation.

"The steam is let out a bit at a time into one piston, pushing the piston forwards and making the flywheel turn." Perti shouted and pointed at the large wheel. "When one piston is done pushing, it lets out the steam into the stack. The other piston then pushes and so it goes round and round. Of course the pistons pull too."

I was getting the idea, and marvelled at the technology. "I see. And that wheel then turns the paddles?"

"That's right, Captain, and powers the pumps. The gears turn the shaft there, and the paddles go round." He pointed to a complex array of cogs and levers all turning and grinding.

"And how much pressure is there in this chamber?" I stepped over to it, examining the rivets and joints. Perti took out a spanner and gave it a couple of knocks.

"Hard to say. She's holding well. Not half done yet. We're running at cruising speed, and she's cooking nicely.”

"I see. Do they leak? Can they break?"

"Push her too hard, and she'll explode!" The engineer seemed oddly pleased about this.

"What? Does that happen?"

"Oh yes," he said with a grin. "Push the boiler too hard and the whole ship'll go up!"

I was shocked by this announcement, and it must have shown as I instinctively stepped away from it. Perti quickly pointed to a block and some piping above the chamber that lead down to another smaller block with a wheel and cogs, then more piping that lead away.

"Don't worry, Captain. This valve," he knocked it with his spanner, "will open before she blows and vent the steam. It holds the pressure in until the chamber just can't take no more, then lets it out. So, in theory, the boiler shouldn't blow before the valve gives."

"In theory?"

"Well... Who's to say how much pressure the boiler can take? I've a good feel for it and set the valve accordingly, but you never know with age and wear. Don't worry, I just give it a knock and I know how tight she is."

"I see. And how fast can we push her would you say?"

"Hard to say, Captain. A boat this size with this engine. The copper's been scraped. I recon 13 knots in good water and the clean hull. If you want to go faster, I have to tighten that valve, see? I can tighten her and we go faster, but go too fast and boom!"

Thanking the engineer, I snarled at Mister Banton who was hovering. Banton gave a knuckle salute and darted back into the shadows.

I was indeed impressed by the ingenuity of the machine, and had a new found respect for engineers and the black eyed folk who designed them - those strange and mysterious people. I was impressed but deeply unsettled by the boiler and Perti's dismissive attitude towards its propensity to explode if not properly managed. I left Mister Perti and the sweat streaked crew of the engine room to their work and made my way back up to the blessed fresh air of the open seas.

We saw nothing of the enemy, and only encountered fishing vessels and merchants which gave us a few good opportunities to practice our boarding. As a ship of an Imperial Navy, we had the right to stop and search just about any vessel upon the ocean. Things were going so well that I found I was secretly hoping for a little trouble. Remembering the highly secret order, I imagined capturing such a code book. Not for the glory, of course, but out of a sense of duty, or at least that is what I told myself. If we could return with such a prize, it would further the cause of the Empire and the Ardalrion name. The problem was that we were not a large ship and crew, and any vessels carrying a code book would probably be a larger fighting vessel. We could head west and would undoubtedly come across them, but we would not be able to fight them. It was Harl who sparked the idea when he mentioned this ship's former captain, the privateer, Captain Yorlwig.

We were standing under the stars on the aftcastle. Harl was at the helm, and I was enjoying my pipe. It was a pleasant, crisp evening and the day had been spent loading, running out, and firing the ten guns. The men were getting better, and I only put a stop to it in order to save shot and powder. The engine was running at half speed. It throbbed like a beating heart and the wheel splashed, but it was a comforting noise in the dead of night. It sent sailors to sleep, and reminded those awake that the Lady Ocean lived. She purred like a cat as she rode the calm, night time waters.

"Captain Yorlwig nearly had me."

"I saw," said Harl. "I thought for sure you would break his blade, but he kept turning your cutlass away."

"I got lucky."

"Aye. You did, but luck is made, Captain. Luck is made."

"Is it? The gods play games I think. They play them at our expense." I had always felt a little cheated by the gods. My childhood was a miserable chapter that I wanted to forget but could not. Of course I had largely grown out of it now, but still I saw the scorn in other's eyes and although I told myself that I did not care, sometimes it hurt. Sometimes.

"I found his letter of marque you know? In the cabin. I still have it."

"A trophy? You should hang it on the wall, Captain," Harl chuckled. "You have his ship and his marquee."

"Yes. Yes I do." It was then that the idea came to me. It was so simple. Yorlwig was a privateer. Not an important figure in any navy, but an extra feature on the side. A privateer was tasked with raiding enemy shipping and then left to it. The rebels would probably have some record that he was dead, the Wraith Deep captured, but it wouldn't be common knowledge. The crew were doing well as was Olvan, my only officer. They needed testing and I wanted to see what could be accomplished now that I had a ship. It was foolhardy to seek trouble with so little experience as a captain and a ship hardly equipped for a fight, but I wanted to make a difference. I was also bored.

"Mister Harl?"

"Captain?"

"A westerly heading if you please."

Looking back now, the folly of my choice is obvious, but I was young, reckless and eager. The years bring wisdom and the recklessness fades; the fear grows stronger and the will to fight it weaker. Why is that? Why did I seek danger then, when I could have been safe running errands and searching merchants? Back then, I had a whole life to look forwards to, but wanted to risk it all. Now I have little life left and fear even the creaking doors. Boredom, I know now, is my friend and ally, but as a young man, it was my worst enemy.

***

A brisk easterly wind met the Lady Ocean head on, making her rise and then fall to crash on the waves, sending spray high into the sky. It made the job of Seaman Gogloy, one of the youngest lads on board, quite terrifying and near impossible as he dangled over the stern by a rope and tried to paint over the name of the Lady Ocean with black ship's paint.

"Damn this weather, Mister Olvan," I said. The ship was making headway but it was slow progress.

The paint was being applied to a wet surface. It was the proper paint, but it would be better if the surface were dry. Although sitting in a crude harness, Gogloy was hard pressed to hang on to the rope as he did with white knuckles, let alone paint. Below him was the rear of the wheel housing. Should he fall, he would in all likelihood be dragged into the churning wheel before being spat out, a rag doll.

"Perhaps we should find a cove, Captain? A place where the land can protect us from the wind and waves," said Olvan.

"No. We're in enemy waters. I don't want anyone on land to see us painting over the name. They could pass on a message, and then the enemy would be on the lookout for us."

Olvan looked as though he wanted to say more, but I did not want to hear it, knowing the young officer wanted to suggest turning back, and so I turned away from him and saw Doctor Eebel coming up the castle steps.

"To what do we owe this pleasure, doctor?" This was the first time I had seen the surgeon on the officer's deck in a while.

"Needed some air. Still heading west?"

"That we are."

Eebel shook his head. He had made it clear the previous morning when I had presented my plan to the senior crew, that he thought it was madness.

"Gentlemen," I had said to the gathering, "I have invited you to breakfast with me so that I can tell you of my plans for the coming weeks. I have it in mind to set a course for the port of Sulenfir. We will masquerade a privateer in the rebel navy, drop anchor at port, find ourselves a lectrocoder code book and it return it to the Imperial Navy. I think that would make a good sea trial. After which we can report for duty."

To my satisfaction, the men around the table had sat open mouthed and dumbfounded by the statement. Even the reserved Harl had looked surprised.

"But, Sulenfir is a rebel port," Olvan had felt the need to point out.

"Yes," I said. "Which is where we will find rebel lectrocoders and code books."

"If I may, what's the plan, sir?" Harl then asked.

"We have the ship of a privateer and the letter of marque to go with it. I just have to change my name to Yorlwig. It's simple. We sail in, find a lectrocoder officer, copy his book and then sail away again. What do you think, Sergeant Lamtak?"

"What do I think? Sounds risky, sir. What if this Captain Yorlwig is known to be dead and his ship taken as prize?"

"It's a risk, I admit. Their naval office will probably know. They must have spies in Umuron, but I'm betting that Captain Yorlwig was not a well-known figure. I'm betting that privateers are not in the books."

"Hm," Lamtak had said, twirling his moustache. "I suppose it could work, sir." He did not look convinced.

Now, a wave shook the frigate and I heard Gogloy yelp. "How is the medico cabin for supplies and tools? I paid a pretty penny for the items."

"Satisfactory," said Eebel looking down over the rear at poor Gogloy who was being held in place by Harl and a few men.

"Good. How about the health of the men?"

"Good gods man. The health of a seaman in this navy? That's like asking me to judge the quality of Hobster's Cave Chease. It stinks, It's rotten, tastes like vomit, and yet the toffs fight to get their hands on it." He rubbed his temples. "They're fine. Diseased, pox ridden, worm infested, lice covered, flea bitten the ugly lot of them, but they don't complain which in my book is as good as you're going to get out of a sailor."

"And morale?" I pushed, ignoring the doctor’s tone.

"They seem happy enough. Is that my job now? Morale officer?"

"It's the job of any officer to see to it that the men are in good mind and good health, and you are technically an officer, Doctor Eebel.”

"Then I prescribe a few more barrels of wine, and perhaps some spirits," said the doctor with a knowing glance at his captain. Harl who had overheard grunted a laugh at this.

Olvan was looking up at the crow's-nest. "The men want to leave the crow's-nest, sir. They're being thrown about up there."

Stepping forwards, I squinted up at the crow's-nest where I saw two men waving. "Why the bloody hells are you looking down at us? Watch the seas you miserable bastards!"

"But, sir…" The men fell into the crow's-nest as the ship hit hard on yet another wave. Gogloy yelped again. "Too rough, Captain," called one of the lookouts as his head reappeared.

"I don't care," I shouted. “These are enemy waters. This is a fighting ship, not some dandy yacht on a summer cruise. Tie yourselves to the mast, and watch the damned seas!"

Seaman Gogloy was hauled back onto the deck. He was soaked and covered in paint and Harl shook his head as to say that it was impossible. The ship's former name was the Wraith Deep, and to paint it back over the new Lady Ocean now we would have to have calmer waters. I could only hope we did not meet the enemy before the disguise was complete, but there was no sign of the rough weather letting up for a while yet.

"We need a figurehead Mister Olvan. Remind me when this mission is over," I said, the thought suddenly striking me. No point in brooding over the enemy when there was nothing to be done, although I could not help turn an eye to the smudged horizon.

"Like the grander ships, sir?"

"Yes. Something fitting. Something sticking."

"Sticking?"

"Like a thorn, Mister Olvan. A thorn in the side of every pomp, dandy and aristocrat that cares to care what I put on my ship."

Doctor Eebel gave me a sideways glance.

"I see, Captain." Olvan sounded like he was not sure he did see at all.

"Come up with something. Give me ideas if you can."

"Perhaps a naked mermaid?"

"No! Something others wouldn't expect. She would have to have three breasts, a beard, and a horn for me to even consider it. Think about it for a while."

Another day passed and still the seas had not calmed enough to allow the painting of the ship's name. There had been no sight of enemy shipping and only larger fishing vessels and merchant ships ventured this far from the coast. We had seen a few but steered clear of them. I did not want to be caught without a ship's name, and I did not want the watch towers to see us. It would be far too suspicious, and any naval captain would want to investigate it further.