Chapter 2 – Hop Topics
Askaro had no choice but to let Master Bruvano drag him toward the mid-ship stairs. The ropes that held the stairs in place between the deck and the dirigible swayed slightly under the Master’s bulk. Askaro was dwarfed by the muscular man.
They reached the top edge of the dirigible opening. The darkness inside momentarily blinded Askaro but his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lantern light. They continued up the stairs, now solid under their feet, until they reached the midway. Crewmen and a few slaves hurried by, casting curious glances in his direction but no one spoke to them. They arrived at the ramp to the upper forward port hot room. The vast hot air chamber glowed slightly from the fires within. Waves of heat rippled outward.
Several crewmen and a squad of slaves were pulling dried sails from the lines strung across the interior of the dirigible in front of the hot air chambers and another group was carrying the collected canvas toward the sail loft. Askaro could hear Master Goswin directing them where to place each sail for inspection.
Bruvano pushed open the door of the hot room and dragged Askaro in, closing the door behind them. Master Calari was half way down the front row of burners, pointing at a unit and talking very slow and loud to the slave chained to that post. His voice was tinged with annoyance. Bruvano whistled to get his attention.
Calari looked up, told the slave to get to work, and made his way down the narrow row toward them. “What do you need, Bruvano?”
The Slave Master pushed Askaro toward Calari. “I brought some extra help. Make him work hard. Useless brat. He gets away with too much.” Bruvano surveyed the room then left.
Calari chuckled. “On Bruvano’s bad side early this morning. Not a good sign. But I’m glad you’re here. I could use your help.” He motioned for Askaro to follow.
They walked down the row back toward the slave who was now sitting on the fuel box, arms crossed, staring at the burner. Askaro recognized him as one of the slaves who had been part of the late breakfast troop. He glanced around, looking to see who else was working this shift and found a few familiar faces. Several nodded at him and he nodded back. Many of the slaves were new. They had been captured during the last raid a few weeks ago. That wasn’t uncommon. The hot rooms were usually the first place a new slave worked as they could be chained to the wall. Captured slaves had to earn their freedom from the chains.
Askaro recognized the slave working at the next station beyond. He’d been aboard several months now. Askaro had worked with him at other duty stations. He was surprised to see him in the hot room. He was one of the few not chained to the wall. The slender metal ring around his neck reflected the red glow of the burner.
Master Calari grabbed the chain of the sitting slave and pulled him off the fuel bin. “You will work or Master Bruvano will take it out of your hide.” The Master looked at Askaro. “I’ve been trying to get through to him for weeks but he’s either too dumb or too stubborn to learn to read the flame.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll do what I can.” He turned to the slave. “What’s your name?”
The man scowled at him. “Tolok. What’s it to you?”
The accent was thick but understandable. Askaro pointed at the low flame in the burner. “Do you know why these burners need to all burn with equal flames?”
“Why should I care?”
Askaro dug some chunks of peato out of the fuel bin. “Because if this hot air chamber fails from uneven heating, it will collapse down into this room and kill you. I think that’s a pretty good reason.”
The man’s eyes went wide. He looked up at the thick glass panes in the ceiling of the room that not only served as light but also as a way to monitor the inside of the hot air chamber. “This magic is evil.”
Askaro shook his head. He’d given up arguing with the captured slaves over their notion of magic. He supposed to them it did seem mystical but he knew better. It didn’t help that the captains of the airships of the Sky Realm were called Sky Wizards. He pointed to the chart on the wall that showed the current height the burner flame was supposed to be. “I don’t really care what you want to call it but right now, we need to make sure all the flames in this hot room are the height of the one in that image.”
“It was different yesterday.”
Calari shook his head. “Good luck with this one, Asko. He’s as dumb as a rock. I have to go do a flame check. Get this one up to where it should be.” The Master began working his way down the row, looking at each burner.
Askaro broke apart the cube of peato and carefully fed the flame. “The Master can easily change the picture by turning a roller that pulls a canvas up or down. The image is painted on the canvas so the height of the flame seems to change.”
Askaro pointed at the fuel bin and Tolok passed him another cube. “Why does it need to change?”
Askaro broke the cube in half and placed the pieces on either side of the fire. The flame lapped across the black material and began to grow. Askaro studied it. “The additional heat makes the ship rise higher.”
Tolok backed away as the extra fuel increased the flame. “The magic is powerful indeed if it can raise this massive creature.”
Askaro had heard others call the Falcon a creature. With the brightly painted bird’s head at the bow and the sails outstretched on either side it did resemble some strange bird. He turned back to the burner. “After you do this for awhile, you get a feel for how much fuel it takes to keep the flame at a consistent height.” He decided it needed just a little more and had Tolok grab another. He showed him how to break it apart and feed it correctly.
Tolok brushed the crumbs off his hands. “What is this crap? It stinks.”
Askaro was satisfied with the flame for the moment. “This is peato. It’s made from a special type of black mud that is only found in a swamp. We dig it up, press it into cubes, and let them dry. My father told me the mud used to be plants but they got buried in the swamp. If they stay there long enough, they turn into something that will burn.”
“More magic. And what do you know of the work that goes into making it?”
The slave from the next unit over laughed quietly. “I bet Asko has made his fair share of peato in his life.”
Askaro didn’t want to even try to calculate how much he’d made. He grinned. “And what are you doing back in the hot room, Lorin? I thought you had moved on to different duties.”
Lorin fed his flame. “I had but I discovered I don’t care for heights so the riggings are not my friends. But the Masters didn’t care. When I refused to climb the ropes, I was sent back here. Which is just fine as far as I’m concerned. I grew up in the marshes. The smell of the peato doesn’t bother me at all.”
Tolok pulled out another cube and broke it up as Askaro had taught him. He looked over at the neighboring slave. “How long have you been in this hell?”
Lorin shrugged. “I don’t know. I stopped counting after they took off the chains.”
Tolok leaned toward him. “Then why don’t you escape?”
Lorin laughed. “And go where? We’re hundreds of units above anything. Besides, I’ve gotten used to this. It’s not all that bad really. I have two duty shifts in the hot room, a duty shift in the scullery, and a duty shift in laundry. I eat more than I ever did back home and I don’t have to worry about freezing to death or starving in the winter or being attacked by war parties the rest of the time.”
Tolok pulled his lips back from his teeth. “But we’re slaves! All except for him.”
Askaro was surprised when Tolok pointed at him. Lorin chuckled. “He’s a slave, too. He’s just ship-born. That’s why he wears a leather collar instead of a metal one.”
Askaro didn’t say anything. That wasn’t exactly true. The other ship-born slaves also wore metal collars. He wore a leather one like his mother did. Askaro was distracted by a pipe call over the tube. He watched Master Calari rush to the front and pick up the listening end. After a short conversation, the Master turned t
he dial of the flame image up. Some slaves groaned. Askaro pointed to the fuel box. “Pull out another cube, Tolok. Let’s see if you can get the flame to match the image.”
Tolok grumbled but complied. Lorin leaned toward Askaro. “What do you suppose is going on?”
Askaro shrugged. “There were clouds on the horizon this morning. Could be a storm brewing. For whatever reason, we’re going higher. Maybe there are better winds for the sails. I can’t tell from here.”
“More magic.” Tolok broke another cube and fed the flame.
Askaro sighed. “It looks good. See the grooves in the metal at the side of the door? They can help you gauge the height.”
They worked quietly for awhile. Tolok began tending the flame on his own. Askaro looked up through the window into the chamber above. The glow was even across the compartment.
Calari came back and watched Tolok work. He nodded at Askaro. “Good job. I should have requested you for a trainer.” He pointed at Askaro’s soiled tunic and breaches. “I’d better let you go early so you can get changed. I seem to recall you go to mending next watch. The Master would never let you near the sails looking like that.”
“Yes, sir.” Askaro left the hot room and headed for the mid-ship stairs. He liked Calari. He was one of the better Masters on the ship. Askaro didn’t see anyone on the midway or the stairs until he left the dirigible. Outside was a different matter. It looked like they had called extra squads to help add some canvas and the deck was crowded with busy men.
Askaro wove his way through the group and headed for the stern. He slipped in the doors and paused, listening. He didn’t hear anything. He peered around the salon. The upper windows were still shuttered. The officers normally took their morning meal in their private suites. He was relieved and moved quickly to his family’s suite. He went in and was surprised to hear his parents. They were in their room but the door was slightly ajar. He moved quietly through the sitting room and went to his own bedroom. He glanced out the window. His room faced the port side. The sky looked pale blue. He pulled clean clothes from a drawer.
Askaro stripped out of his soiled clothes. He wondered what his parents where doing here. Mister Norad must have relieved his father early but he couldn’t imagine his mother being out of the galley at this hour. He listened closer to hear what they were talking about.
His father’s voice sounded excited. “But it was so incredible, Tralora. Cullans said he must have leapt at least 60 units into the air to grab the end of the rope. And his landing was perfect.”
His mother trilled softly in her throat. “Many of my people do that without even thinking about it but we are in the trees where there are plenty of lower branches to catch a fall. If Askaro would have misjudged the distance or the rope slipped from his hands, he could have been killed.”
The wooden frame of his parents’ bed creaked. “Tra, you worry too much. Besides, everything is going to change. I talked to my father this morning. The fall storms are moving south earlier than usual so we won’t be making a run to the north. We’re headed to Rokathalon.”
His mother gasped. “To the Capital? Why now? The Falcon hasn’t been there in the seventeen years that I’ve been aboard.”
His father sighed. “I know. It’s a long story for another day. But the holds are full. I can hardly believe it. When this ship was being built, other Sky Wizards laughed. No one believed we’d ever make use of so much space. But it has allowed us to go to places that few Sky People have ever seen.”
“And what of Askaro? What will happen to him when we reach Rokathalon? At least here on the Falcon he is treated with some respect, by a few Masters anyway.”
Askaro pulled on the clean tunic. He was concerned by the tone of her voice.
His father shushed her. “We’ve already given that a great deal of thought. We will all be very rich when the cargo is sold. Father is going to buy citizenship rights for Askaro and I am going to buy them for you. Then I can marry you formally and no one can say anything.”
Askaro tied the laces of his clean breaches and buckled the belt around his tunic. He didn’t know about the things his father spoke of. His lessons so far hadn’t included anything on citizenship. He knew Rokathalon only as a name on a map in a region they had not sailed into in a very long time - before his birth and before his mother had been captured.
The warning bell for change of duty rang. Askaro was determined not to be late again. He slipped out of his room, through the sitting room, and out of the family suite, shutting the door quietly behind him. And ran right into Ranith.
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Askaro of the Falcon Page 2