The Iron Ship (27 page)

Hammers rang across the dockyard. Box cranes clunked along overhead rails, miniature glimmer engines puffing hard. Chains rattled. The
Prince Alfra
sat waist-deep in an empty stone dock barely big enough to hold it. The shed caught the noise of industry, concentrating it. The racket within was deafening, all-pervasive, and not easily defeated. Trassan and Vand had to shout. Doing so made Trassan’s nervousness worse, and he was nervous at his master’s visit, despite Vand’s evident glee at his progress.

“As you see, master, we have finished the main superstructure and are in the process of applying the hull plating.” Trassan pointed at a steam tractor that whistled as it approached the side of the ship. It held a slab of iron in its delicate claws. Men and Tyn shouted, waving the driver on. The iron made a dull boom as it met the ship’s ribs. Wooden beams were braced against the top, men set iron poles along the bottom edge to lever it in. With a tremendous hooting, the tractor reversed. The men shouted, and worked their poles free. The plate slipped into its final position.

Seven teams of three riveters ran forward, one of the three in each team carrying an iron bucket full of glowing rivets in gloved hands. Half of their number ran around the side and into the vessel. They set to work immediately, one placing a glowing rivet into the pre-drilled holes around the plate’s edges, the other two, one inside the ship and one outside, placed to hammer them flat. They sang as they worked to synchronise their blows. In five minutes, all eighty rivets were in place. Tyn iron whisperers came forward, to ask of the metal if it were sound.

“Do we not have more whisperers?” asked Vand.

“We have nine, but so much iron affects them. I have them working in shifts, otherwise they fall sick.”

Vand nodded. “You are still making remarkable progress, Trassan. I am impressed.”

Vand looked upward to the high roof. The ship’s side rose sixty-five feet over them. “Very fine work, very fine work indeed.”

Veridy, Vand’s daughter, smiled at Trassan behind her father’s back. “Stop it,” he mouthed. Her smile widened. Trassan could not help but grin back.

Vand turned around. “Is something amusing?”

“No, master.”

“It is a very fine ship, Pappa. I was merely trying to attract Goodfellow Kressind’s attention in order to inform him of my sentiment.” She coughed and put a hand to the hollow of her neck. “This clamour is quite destroying my voice, and there is a fearful amount of smoke here.”

“Yes my dear, of course,” shouted Vand. “No place for a woman this, but she insisted on coming. I’m not surprised.” He looked back over his shoulder. “My ship is as beautiful as I envisaged.”

Trassan’s smile became fixed. The ship was primarily of his design. Not that that would stop Vand from taking the lion’s share of the credit.

“Perhaps we should retire to my office? It is a little quieter in there, and we can see the whole of the vessel from there,” Trassan said, gesturing to the ugly pressed iron box atop a gantry from where he could observe the entire site.

“Lead on, Goodfellow Kressind.”

V
AND UNROLLED A
chart and held it up to the light. He scrutinised it carefully. “Damn eyes aren’t getting any better,” he said. He peered down his nose.

“Pappa spends far too much time reading in his study,” said Veridy.

Vand shot his daughter an admonishing glance. “Please, Veridy. Have you solved the problems of attaching the inner skin?”

“I have,” said Trassan. “I have men going inside the hull space; cramped, but they do a good job.”

“Good,” said Vand, he rolled up the sheet and went to the windows which ran around three sides of the office, allowing the occupant to look to the bow and stern of the ship. “The world’s first oceangoing iron ship.” He sighed contentedly. “In truth, it’s the fourth,” he said looking back at Trassan. “But this will be first successful one.”

“I am sure it will,” said Veridy. “Trassan is very skilful, Pappa.”

“Oh, oh, yes, he is, he is! Why else would I choose him as my student. And,” he said looking between the two of them, “potential son-in-law. No! Silence, the pair of you. I’m not blind. I might be getting old, but nobody takes Arkadian Vand for a fool.” He looked back at the ship. “
Amity
broke its back rolling down the slipway,” said Vand, “Sunbright of thirty-nine. The
Penalopy
foundered, her seams split, and she sank.”

“Gannever of forty-two.”

“Forty-three,” corrected Vand. “And lastly the
Grand Ruthenian
. Boiler explosion. No one has dared tried since. But I dare. Arkadian Vand dares.”

That they were Trassan’s plans he was daring with, and that the
Grand Ruthenian
had been Vand’s own vessel went unremarked upon. Triumph glowed from Vand’s every pore. One did not interrupt a man such as Arkadian Vand in a mood such as that. Especially, thought Trassan, when one owes him everything one has, and is bedding his daughter besides.

“Right then.” Vand rapped his knuckles on the window. “I’m very impressed by all this Trassan. You have my permission to court my daughter.” He looked back at him. “Not that you will have time. You will prepare the site for a visit from the worthies of Karsa.”

“I see,” said Trassan.

“I’m glad you are taking it on the chin. Money for all this doesn’t just fall from the air, young man. We’re going to need more cash. I’ll need to do a once over with your foreman, Hannever, to make sure the bloody thing isn’t going to go the way of the other ships, but it’s time to announce to the world that the
Prince Alfra
is almost ready. There will be a lot of interested parties, of that I am sure. Military, too. Think of what a navy could achieve with a ship such as this. It need fear nothing on the waves.” He looked meaningfully at Trassan. “Or under them.”

“We’re not really ready.”

Vand slapped his palms together. “I’ll be the judge of that. You are a capable engineer, Trassan, but you have inherited little of your father’s talent for business. Leave that side of things to me.” Trassan shrank inside a little. Vand had this effect on him, and many others. “We don’t have much choice, do you see my boy? If you could have secured us an early licence, then raising the capital for completion would be so much easier. With Persin openly declaring for the South, we’ll have to win them over with the technological wonders here, to prove we can beat him to the prize.”

“There is nothing I can say against that.”

“Quite so.”

“Can we at least make sure that the paddlewheel assemblies are in place?”

“Why?”

“I think it will look the more complete.”

“Your estimated time of completion to that phase, Goodfellow Kressind?”

Trassan did a quick mental calculation. “The 33rd of Frozmer, master? I could make it ready in time to be a part of the half-winter celebrations. Surely there is merit in that?”

“Possibly,” said Vand. He considered a moment. “Very well. That gives you nigh on twelve weeks, the best part of two months. Seventy-four days. A generous portion of time. We shall see what we can do, but be warned, I will be starting the funding drive for the completion soon, like it or not. You will perform the presentation of the ship; I have little appetite for speaking to crowds. Still, it may do no harm to stoke interest now, but keep our hand concealed. Play coy, that’s what I’m always saying to Veridy. Not that she ever listens.”

Veridy slipped her arm into the crook of her father’s elbow. “Papa!”

“Veridy, go outside a moment and wait. There’s a good girl. Don’t worry, I shall give you a few minutes to exchange breathless words with Trassan once I have had my time with him.” He stood tall. “Less breathlessly than you are accustomed to, naturally, now that you know I know.”

Veridy nodded to Trassan and went out. Trassan tried very hard not to watch her go. She had a habit of swaying her hips in her skirt just so that...

“Trassan!” Vand snapped fingers in front of Trassan’s face. “What are you doing, man? Pay attention.”

“Master, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “My apologies.”

“Tell me why your attempt to secure the Licence Undefined failed.”

“I had hoped my brother would provide me with one without question.”

“And he did not.”

“No, master. He proved to be annoyingly diligent in his duties. He seemed to be quite open to the idea initially, but he is being groomed for advancement by Duke Abing, and will not issue a licence without a full run through the Three Houses. He says it is a formality, but formality is the devil where the unbreathing lord is concerned.” Trassan would not speak the name of the Drowned King near the ship, to do so was to invite misfortune.

“Well, well, that’s something,” said Vand. “But it’s the time that will take; not insurmountable, but with Persin on us like a dog after a chop it makes it all the more ticklish. Have you tried your father?”

“I have. That rather put Garten’s back up. He’s my brother, but I think I might have misjudged him.”

“Don’t be glum, boy. It’s not the worst that could happen. Chances are that we’ll see it through without a hitch, and that once the licence is granted—and it will be, for this of all my ventures is surely in the national interest—”

“That’s what Garten said.”

“—then we’ll see a surge in share sales. It will be fine!” said Vand briskly. “Always need a bit of a race, keeps life interesting. Always judge a man by the quality of his rivals, that’s what the Hethikans used to say. Who knows, Trassan, you keep this up, and you can have your own Persin to worry about. Motherless cur that he is, I’d be insulted to have a lesser enemy.”

Trassan nodded. He had, of course, corresponded with Vand about the licence issue, but he had been dreading telling him about Garten’s lack of enthusiasm.

“Now, we’ll meet again in a week when I’m back from the dig at Ostria. I’ll send my daughter in. No funny business, do you understand.”

“I have been meaning to ask you, master...”

“By the gods man, not now! Let’s get this ship out of the way first, and have you back from the voyage. I’ll not be wanting to make Veridy a wife and a widow within weeks of each other. One thing at a time.”

“Yes, master.”

“Very good.” He opened the door. “Five minutes, my sweet.”

“Yes, Pappa.”

Vand leaned out onto the landing and took something covered in a bright cloth from a servant. He put it on Trassan’s desk.

“What’s that?”

“A gift, I could say,” said Vand, “but I would really mean chaperone. Five minutes, do you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” said Trassan.

“Yes, Pappa,” said Veridy.

Trassan shut the door. Veridy let out the most outrageously girlish giggle and pranced into his arms.

“He is just outside, you know.”

“Ah, as he said, he’s known for ages.”

“I thought we were discrete.”

“You were,” she smiled widely. “Don’t be taken in by his claims, he’s trying to unnerve you.”

“He’s succeeding.”

“Nonsense. He’s as perceptive as a block of pig-iron when it comes to me.”

“What?”

“I told him.”

“Why?”

“Because, stupid, he would have worked it out sooner or later.” She gave him a little kiss that turned into a bigger one.

They pulled apart.

“I can do that only because you have impressed him, otherwise he’d have you hanged. It is a beautiful ship.”

“He surveys it as an old man leers at the friends of his daughters,” said Trassan.

“I rather thought it was how an agricultural gentleman might gaze happily at his favoured dray.”

“Dray or wife, it doesn’t matter, it’s mine, not his.”

“It is his money, Trassan.”

“It was
my
idea.”

“And
his
teaching.”

“Oh do not let’s argue about this again. I’ve not seen you for weeks.”

They went to kiss each other again. A tutting interrupted them. Both of them turned this way and that, before settling on the object on the desk. Trassan disengaged himself from Veridy and lifted the cloth. He let it drop and groaned.

“I might have known.”

“There is no need to be rude, goodfellow,” said a voice from under the cover.

“What is it?” asked Veridy.

“A Tyn,” said Trassan.

“In there?”

“A Lesser Tyn, the little kind.” Trassan drew back the cloth. Inside a beautiful cage sat a tiny Tyn no bigger than Trassan’s thumb. She was otherwise as perfect as a doll, like a high-born woman shrunk down to fit in a matchbox. For all he knew, she might have been. She wore a red velvet gown and an iron collar as delicate as a twist of grass.

“I prefer just Tyn, if you please,” said the tiny woman.

“Fair enough,” said Trassan. “Can you tell me your name or is there a geas on you?”

She raised a pair of perfect eyebrows. “You know something about this sort of thing?”

“Don’t ask,” said Trassan.

“Then I will not. My name is Tyn Iseldrin. I like Issy.”

“She is beautiful! Where on earth did he get her?” whispered Veridy, wide-eyed. She bent down to look.

“I could ask the same of you.” Issy cleared her throat. “Don’t loom so child, it is impolite.” Veridy backed off. “Better. I require genteel conversation, four thimblefuls of honey a day, and one of milk. Bring no mirrors into my presence, that one is a geas,” she explained. “And I advise you not to talk too much about your employer, because I am bound to report to him all that I hear and see. I’d keep your hands off each other also. You are not married yet. This is my purpose, to see that you remain unentangled until such time as you might be. Married. Not entangled.” She grinned. There was a feral air to her smile.

They drew apart a good couple of paces.

“And although it is not necessary, I like to read.”

“Well, well!” Trassan ran his hand through his curly hair. He began to laugh, and stopped. “Fine! And what does so fine a lady Tyn as yourself enjoy as reading matter?”

She gave another sinister grin, showing teeth as sharp as a kitten’s. “Agricultural papers,” she said. “The very latest. The ones that deal with mechanical aids.”

Trassan risked taking both Veridy’s hands in his own. The Lesser Tyn tutted, and shook her head. He let them go.