Malspire (5 page)

Rats scurried along the gunwales in the shadows cast by the lanterns and candles. Willan was proudly boasting to someone about a hair on his chin, telling anyone who would listen that he was a man now. I noticed across the room, Mister Harl, standing, watching, and saw a flicker of a smile on the sailor’s face as our eyes met. What surprised me then was that next to Harl was Jodlin, now awake and also watching me. The anger was gone from his eyes, and he had returned to drinking again.

Harl then came forward and placed his rugged hand on Paggod’s shoulder. "That'll be enough now. You got lucky. Don't lose it now that you got money to send home."

"But my luck's turned Grandon. I can't stop now!" said the stupid boy. Harl increased his grip and said again, "That'll be enough now."  Paggod grudgingly took his small winnings and left the room.

“No more gaming with the lad,” said Harl to the rest of the men with his slurring seaman’s accent. “Let him send some coppers home before his old ma’ starves.” He then gave me another lingering look.

I saw the skinny Willan with the single chin hair strut around with his chin up in the air and his chest stuck out. The shifty looking Sudlas grabbed the boy and deftly plucked the hair from his chin which was followed by a roar of laughter from the men. After that Harl sat down and joined the game. Grandon Harl proceeded to clean the table.

I had lost all the copper heads I had taken to the game and now had to go on duty. Before I could leave however, Jodlin stepped in my way. The big man stank of booze and vomit and I wondered how Jodlin was even standing. His nose was broken and a mixture of blood and ale dripped from his chin.

"You fight dirty," was all Jodlin said. The room went quiet again.

"In a minute, my watch starts, Mister Jodlin and then I return to being an officer," I warned him, in no mood for another fight.

Jodlin said nothing for a moment, then grinned a toothless grin. "My head's going to hurt in the morning but it was worth it to hit an officer. You coming back, sir?"

I looked round and saw few obvious objections. "I suppose I will. Let's not fight though. I know I was lucky, Mister Jodlin."

Jodlin nodded and stepped aside. I was not sure what to make of the man, but had no time left to find out what Jodlin's sudden change of mood was all about.

Of course men were allowed to drink in the Navy but not so much so that it impinged upon their duties. The next day Jodlin and Harl were both back at work as normal. Jodlin seemed none the worse for wear other than a black and blue face. After heavy drinking I would spend half a day in bed, but to Jodlin and the crew it seemed to be part of the routine and something they were used to. The next few nights I returned to the game room and lost more money. For whatever reason, Jodlin had suddenly accepted me and so had the crew, in general. As long as I dropped rank, drank and treated the men fairly, they tolerated my presence. It was not universal but acceptable to my way of seeing things.

***

The city of Norlan rose from the black water of the Emben Sea like a ragged black mountain covered in a million flickering lights. I stood at the bow of the Sea Huntress and admired the sight, but I was also watching for the Grand Oak, my brother's ship, and soon spotted it within the vast harbour. The great wooden fortress with its iron banding and towers and row upon row of gun ports was at anchor in the deeper waters and seemed quiet with few lights and little movement. I guessed that the crew were on land which meant that I would probably find Ajator at the Ardalrion city residence. I wondered if my father was in the city. The old man was spending more and more time at his castle in the duchy, leaving the running of the fleet to High Admiral Barron Villor, a vassal of Duke Ardalrion. I had never met the man but I had seen him on occasion. The duke had never liked to present me to his guests.

"Ardalrion!" This was the distant voice of Crosp, who was standing by the helm.

"Sir," I said and made my way back to the aftcastle.

The ship was busy making ready to put in to port. I was looking forward to two weeks of rest in Norlan. I was not privy to the captain's plans but I had heard from the crew that the Sea Huntress was to make for Umuron after her stay in the capital. Umuron was the Empire's last foothold in the far west where the rebellion had so nearly forced the Empire out.

"Follow me," said Crosp when I reached his side. With a sinking feeling, I was led down to his cabin.

"Close the door." Crosp held his hands behind his back. Something in the captain's manner confirmed that I was in trouble. As soon as I had closed the door and turned round, Crosp was in my face.

"Fraternising with the crew now are you?" shouted the man, spitting in my face. "Those lazy sea scavengers are there to do an officer's bidding, Mister Ardalrion, not be his friend or his shoulder to cry upon. What are you playing at? How am I supposed to keep the dregs of the Navy in their place if an officer drops to their level?"

I said nothing. I had broken no regulations.

"You're little better than they are, I'll give you that, and if it were up to me, you would be down in the bilges mucking out the shit and piss. Oh yes. But you're born high, Ardalrion. Born high, and although I don't give a rat's prick that you're my lord admiral's son, it's my duty to make an officer out of you and officers are above the scum. You will at least behave like an officer!" Crosp was ranting now. I had seen it before and just had to let it run its course.

"Those idiots in the Naval Office will deign to make you a senior officer soon enough and then one day a captain. A captain! You! By the gods the world has gone mad when a pathetic boil cut from a lord admiral's arse is made a captain, but so it will be."

It frustrated Crosp who had no say in my rank. As the son of a lord admiral, I was automatically set upon a fast track to captaincy and a ship of my own. However unpopular I might be in my father's eyes, it was unthinkable that a son of his would not be a captain and one day an admiral, should I survive long enough. Of course it did not make things better that Crosp was getting on in age and had been overlooked for promotion or title, but it rather pleased me to see the crusty toad wriggle and squirm, cursing in vain. I stopped listening.

"Well?"

"Well what, sir?" I asked, returning from my mindless observations of the stuffed animals. The ape was missing a finger I had noticed.

"I order you to stop meeting with the crew, you understand? You are to stay away from the scum!"

"With all due respect, sir. I have broken no regulations that I am aware of, and see no harm in engaging with the men."

"I am the captain!" The man was livid now and had turned a bright crimson colour. I had to resist the temptation to wipe the spit from my face. "You will do as I command or so help me..."

"You'll have me flogged, sir?"

Captain Crosp went silent. "You're a petulant fool Ardalrion." he finally said. "You're making an enemy of me and I assure you that I am a ruthless man if needs be. I will have my way on this ship. I will have discipline!"

"Yes, sir."

"Get out!"

I returned to my cabin. I took out my service cutlass, the basic weapon of a sailor and tested its edge. I imagined running the blade through Crosp's fat belly, but knew I did not have the courage to do it. I wanted to. It would be doing the world a justice by removing that bitter maggot from its shores, but even the son of a lord admiral would hang for such a crime.

The blade was a clumsy butcher's weapon which I had taken to using during my time at the Academy. One of the classes was on swordsmanship and every officer was expected to thrust and cut like a gentleman with specific steps and moves practiced under the guidance of a master swordsman. His name was Peel and he nearly had a heart attack when I charged him one morning with a heavy sea cutlass.

I knew I was no good with the finer blades - the sabres, rapiers, and ridiculous foils as I was never quick of wrist. I reasoned that an officer who found himself facing a grizzled seaman bearing a shield and three foot butcher's blade would last as long as it took the seaman to hammer his sword into the skull of the officer with little or no regard for any fancy parrying. I had charged Peel and on my first blow shattered the thin blade of my tutor, and barged him to the floor. I may not have been a graceful or skilled swordsman but I discovered that a heavy blade and mindless violence were a workable substitute. Of course the Academy frowned upon the use of such a base weapon but that did not stop me from honing my skill with the steel whenever I could and added to my fighting style by kicking, punching and head butting whenever the instructor looked away. It was ugly and made me no friends, but I learnt to fight, not to dance nor play sport, but to do what was needed to survive.

I sheathed the blade and took some coins from my sea chest which I then locked. We were back in the city and I was going to see if Ajator was about. I needed to vent my anger. I wanted to drink and I wanted to fight and although people might never think it, Ajator liked a good gutter fight too, and so I wanted to find him and then head for the Waters where trouble could always be found.

The ship had docked and I made my way by canal boat along the twisting waterways of the city taking Willan with me who sat at the fore while I sat at the rear of the thin wooden craft. Canal boats were the carriages of the water, and this one was owned by a balding old timer who had taken my coin, then asked for the address. Above us grew the dark towers of the city; floor upon floor of granite and black marble with a network of bridges that reached high into the night sky.

It was the time of the Festival the Old Man, an odd tradition that dated back to darker times which celebrated and made light of death. People dressed up as old men with skull masks, including women and children. I found it haunting to see the laughing skull faces stare down at me from the shadows. What brought me back was the smell. I always forget how much the waterways can stink. All the sewage of the city made its way into the canals and at times it was quite overpowering, but one got used to it after a while.

The boatman heaved and pushed. Willan watched the city glide by and seemed exited to be entering the noble regions at its heart where normally a boy like him would be beaten then kicked out by the Imperial City Guard before getting too far. We reached a sort of water square which was a dead end where the city streets rose from the canals. I set off up a grand, lantern lit cobble road with Willan in tow and shortly came to another square surrounding a small patch of fenced off grass with a single oak tree at its heart which seemed lost in this brick and granite forest. Another “Old Man” was under the tree, standing alone and playing a fiddle before a single candle stuck in the ground. He danced a little but seemed sad.

"Ardalrion House," I said to Willan as I stopped in front of a short flight of steps leading up to a grand doorway painted black with the head of a mountain lion as a door knocker. The mountain lion was the shield of the Ardalrion's and I had often wondered about this as I had never seen one in the duchy, but it was said that they existed. I did not use the knocker though, stepping up to the door, I pulled a chain instead. Shortly the door opened and a sullen looking man by the name of Kanrood Babony opened the door. He was the duke's man and his presence meant that my father was in residence. I had hoped my father was away, preferring to avoid the awkward encounters.

"Lord Ardalrion. What a surprise," said the man blandly. "Please step inside. I will announce you to the duke."

I did not greet the man, but simply went in. Babony had been in the service of the Ardalrion's for as long as I could remember and in all that time, the man had only ever shown a complete indifference to me. I thought him a stiff of no imagination.

"Is my brother about?"

"I believe the Young Lord is in the city, sir, but not in the house."

Babony left us two standing, making his way up a grand flight of steps at the far end of the vestibule. "You sit there, Mister Willan." I indicated a chair next to the entrance. "Don't move and don't touch anything. Are you hungry?"

Willan nodded. The boy was in awe of the house. The hall was high, the walls covered in paintings and tapestries. He looked completely out of place. I had wanted Willan along simply as a servant, to carry things if need be and run errands. He was a good lad and I trusted him.

Soon Babony returned. "The duke will see you now. He is in the study."

"I know the way," I said irritably when Babony started to lead the way. "This is my house too. Get the boy some food. I'll not be long."

Babony gave Willan a disdainful look, but nodded his head in acknowledgment.

I climbed the steps to the first floor where a wing led off to a distant door that was slightly ajar with lamp light seeping into the corridor. My frugal father did not like the unnecessary use of candles and lanterns and so the house was a dark place with little pools of light here and there. Neither had the lord taken an interest in using the gas powered lighting so popular now with those that could afford it. Opening the door, I found my father at his grand desk with a large book in front of him, holding a brass rimmed magnifying glass to the pages. The room had a small fire burning on one side. There was a dry and dusty feel. The walls were lined with books and scrolls. I could just about hear the lone fiddler outside the window.