Mr. du Gearsmith cleared his throat. “It’s very late. I took the liberty of booking us rooms at the Loveridge Inn several days ago via the post. There will be plenty of time for a tour later,” he said and turned back for the stairs.
“Wait,” I said, glancing back at him. “Is the ship operational?”
“That’s why Harkerpal went to get parts. I believe she’s almost ready to fly,” Marina said.
“So, when can we try it? Flying that is.” I said, heart nearly leaping from my chest in anticipation.
“If all goes well, tomorrow,” Mr. du Gearsmith said. He descended the stairs.
“Thank Malaky for my chief engineer. I swear if he didn’t have the supplies he needed, he’d morph into the part and perform the function himself.”
An excerpt from Baron von Monocle’s log
Day 55 of the Month of Dukes
16th Year of Malaky XVI’s Reign
I sat up in the iron-framed bed of the Loveridge Inn, sinking into the plush mattress. Sunlight danced across the curtains, trickling through to spots on my sheets, signaling dawn. I’d been awake for nearly an hour already, waiting for a time when others might join me. As a farmer, I’d become used to waking predawn to get ready for the day and accomplish all that needed to be done in the fields before it became too hot.
At my door hung a beautiful dress – brown with a golden sunflower pattern all the way down, far more ornate than any article of clothing I owned. It was there when I awoke earlier, but I hadn’t gone over to see the contents of the card attached to it.
I picked up the card, opened it and looked inside.
I thought you could use a fresh change of clothes for our day today.
Regards,
Mathias du Gearsmith, Esq.
Before I could give another thought to the matter, I found myself tying the final strings on the dress. I observed myself in front of a full-length mirror. The dress trimmed my already thin waist and belled down to the floor. The pattern helped to obscure my strong shoulders, which other girls in my schooling had pointed to as one of my less desirable features. I didn’t take too much time to admire myself before hastily leaving the room and padding down the inn’s stairs.
The common area held few people at this early hour: the innkeeper, a serving girl, and a man who sat at a long table, eating cooked eggs and drinking a glass of juice. The man had darker skin than the tan Captain von Cravat. He wore a bright red, silk shirt that drew my attention in a less than flattering manner.
The innkeeper noticed me standing at the stairs. He called over to me. “Morning, miss. May I help you?”
I turned and the bottom of my dress whirled behind me, tickling my legs. “I’m looking for a Mr. Mathias du Gearsmith. Has he been down from his room yet? He was supposed to take me to the airship outside the city first thing in the morning.”
“Haven’t seen Mr. du Gearsmith yet. I’m sure he’ll be down shortly,” the innkeeper said. He held a rag and turned to wipe down a counter behind him.
The man in the red silk shirt dropped his fork, which clanged against his plate. “Airship, you say?”
I bit my lip, knowing I’d said something foolish. With Wyranth soldiers guarding roads, and given the cause of my father’s demise, I shouldn’t have been so liberal with my tongue. My skin prickled at the eagerness the man displayed. I’d already given too much information that a lie would be unconvincing, but I certainly couldn’t let him know my heritage. “Yes, um, I’m an airship inspector.”
“Inspector?” the man questioned, sucking on his lower lip. “So, you’ll be looking at the calibration of the turbine gears. Could you refresh me as to which way they turn?”
He caught my lie. Beneath my skirts, I dragged my toes on the floor. There were only two possible answers, right? I had a fifty-fifty chance at outsmarting him. “Clockwise, of course,” I said with faux-confidence.
The man erupted into laughter, setting his napkin on the table. He stood and approached me. I could smell his eggy breath on my face as he peered down at me. “The gears turn in different directions depending on which maneuvers you are conducting in flight. It’s true they’d both turn clockwise, but only if you’re flying straight up in the air and forward.”
I backpedaled to avoid how uncomfortably close he stood to me and tripped over my dress. Before I could fall, the man grabbed me by the arm and kept me upright. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“No need to apologize, Miss von Monocle.”
He knew me? By Malaky, I was a walking target with my namesake. “I’m sorry, sir. I think you have the wrong girl. I’ll be going now.” I shouldn’t have come to Loveridge at all, not alone. I wished I had insisted on James coming with me.
The man took two steps backward, realizing he had intimidated me. Pity crossed his face. “I’m sorry I startled you. Don’t leave just yet,” he said. “I was about to head to the airship myself.”
“Who are you?”
“Your father never spoke of me? My name is Harkerpal.”
I clapped my hands in excitement. All of my prior fear evaporated. “Harkerpal! The Chief Engineer!”
Harkerpal flashed a proud grin. “That I am. I could tell you were the daughter of Theodore von Monocle when you walked in the door. You exude such confidence in the way you walk, like you’re very determined to be where you’re headed – and quickly. You also come across much taller than you are in actuality. That and your nose. You have the von Monocle nose for certain.” He bobbed his head in several small nods.
I blushed, unused to someone talking about the way I looked. “Thank you, I think. Did you want to come with me? Marina said you may be able to have the ship sky bound today?”
Harkerpal scratched his chin. “I did obtain the parts I needed, though I was hoping to run a few more tests on the equipment. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to test by doing.” He tilted his head. “Do you know how to fly an airship?”
“Well, no, but I hoped between you and Marina, you could teach me?”
“I spent the better years of my life keeping that ship running. You don’t know how much I sacrificed. The chance for a wife, a family…” he trailed off and rocked back and forth on his feet.
I wasn’t sure if I should say something or not, so I stayed quiet while I waited for him to collect himself.
“The Wyranth captured me twice when I was off with your father,” he continued. “The Iron Emperor’s men knew that I was invaluable to the Liliana, and we were such a thorn in their side. You don’t know what it’s like inside one of their prisons…” Harkerpal stopped himself again.
The innkeeper eyed me, mumbling something to himself. I wondered if I should tell Harkerpal that we should continue this conversation elsewhere. The man could talk at length.
Harkerpal clicked his tongue then sighed. “Of all the tortures I endured, your father was always there for me. He never left a crewman behind. He saved my life on more than one occasion. As much as I regret some of my choices, I also owe him my life several times over.”
“So…” I prodded, hoping to lead him to a conclusion before he further drifted into conversation with himself.
“So,” Harkerpal said, “I am as much obligated to assist you, as you are his heir. I also long for the Liliana to fly again.” He produced a strange smile. “I made my life decisions years ago. I live and breathe the Liliana. It’s too bad there aren’t more ships like her. Shall we, then?”
I stood at the entrance of my father’s cabin. The place he spent most of his time. The place he abandoned me for. It seemed too harsh to think of it as abandonment, but no other word fit. I kept my hand on the door and noticed it had started shaking. How could I tell whether I was ready to open it and see what lay inside?
Harkerpal had disappeared into the engine room and warned me, at length, that he would be spending the next few hours installing the new Giffard capacitor. By the time he’d finished explaining the details of every engineered system he could conceive of, I was thorough
ly overwhelmed by the workings of an airship.
Perhaps the presence of my father’s history overwhelmed me. Either way, I had to become acquainted with this ship, my ship. I pushed the door ajar and stepped inside.
The room arced like a pie wedge and was much more spacious than I envisioned, suitable for a captain, or a baron for that matter. My father’s decorative sense carried over from our farm house – not too ornate, with a rustic touch. He had a wooden chair with a couple of tables, a desk, and a bed, but what caught my eye was the large dresser with a single framed photograph on top. The photograph was of my mother and me when I was perhaps five years old. I didn’t remember the moment. It had seemed so long ago when we lived together as a real family. I scrutinized the black and white photo carefully. We posed in front of a large stone wall, and there was an odd man in the corner, face obscured by the frame.
I flipped the photograph on its back and popped the frame open, removing the picture. Outside of the frame, I could see the man clearly. He was a dark, handsome man, with clothing so ostentatious it made Mr. du Gearsmith appear a commoner. “I wonder who that could be.”
“Found your father’s belongings, have you?” Mr. du Gearsmith appeared behind me.
Startled, I jumped and bumped into the dresser behind me, clutching the photograph in my hand. “You scared me half to death!” I said.
“My apologies. I should have knocked before intruding. What’s that in your hands?” Mr. du Gearsmith asked.
“It’s a photograph of my family, but there’s someone else in the picture, off to the side. I don’t recognize him.”
“Let me see,” he said, holding his hand outstretched to take the picture. I gave it to him, and he held it loosely between his fingers. “Ah, yes,” he said with nostalgic fondness, “that’s a young King Malaky.”
“What?” I asked, astonished. While I knew father had met King Malaky in his military service, I had no clue the king was close enough to appear in a family photo. How much more of his life had he hidden from me?
“Your father and King Malaky were great friends, did you not know?” Mr. du Gearsmith flashed a bemused grin. “Why, back before he ascended to the throne, your father and he were nearly inseparable. His majesty held a profound an affinity to airships. It was only with my advice that he stopped flying on them and commissioning new ones to be built. A dangerous sport, being shot at by the Wyranth. Certainly not the best hobby for a king. They are far too expensive to construct, considering they make for giant, airborne targets.”
“How could he have never told me he knew the king?”
“Your father once told me that he didn’t intend his perilous life to endanger you or your mother. He set aside the farm so that the two of you could live in peace while he made sure you’d be well provided for. With Liliana’s death, I’m afraid he withdrew inward. I lost contact with him around that time.” Mr. du Gearsmith frowned at the thought, his forehead wrinkling and exposing his age.
Did father think I was incapable of dealing with the realities of the world outside of the farm? And if he did, why did he give me this airship? I slid off the bed. “Perhaps I should give this ship back to the king. I don’t have any military experience. Everything I’ve learned is daunting, and it’d be a waste of a valuable resource if the Wyranth are planning an invasion.”
“Miss von Monocle,” Mr. du Gearsmith said, stepping back to me and placing his familiar, reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Your father, despite making it appear to the contrary, never made any decisions in haste. I trust him, and so should you.”
I gazed up at him, uncertain. That much I did trust. My father knew best, but this wasn’t the world I’d prepared to live in. Kings and airships made for good stories, but they were never things I actually expected to see up close. “I’ll try. I am very excited to fly the ship.”
“Why don’t you take a look at what’s in those drawers?” Mr. du Gearsmith said, motioning toward the dresser. He stepped aside to allow me the honors.
I popped open the top and largest drawer and saw a pile of clothes. Digging further, I found a large piece of red velvet that wrapped a solid object. I took the object into my hand and removed the cloth, revealing a sword, shiny with a brass hilt. I’d never cast eyes upon a more beautiful object. “This looks expensive.”
“Ah, your father’s sword. I’m sure that would fetch a pretty penny indeed,” Mr. du Gearsmith said. “And it’s wrapped in his cape.”
“Cape?” I asked, glancing at the velvet cloth I had cast aside. I picked it up and wrapped it around my neck.
“Ah, Baron von Monocle’s signature look! He had one other item to his ensemble. Hmm…” Mr. du Gearsmith pursed his lips and surveyed the room. With a single finger held high, he trounced past me to the closet, opening the door with a flamboyant flair. “Here it is,” he said, then reached to a high shelf and pulled down a black top hat. He placed it atop my head and patted it down. The hat was slightly too large for me. I had to have looked ridiculous. My father’s clothes still held the smell of a musky old man.
Mr. du Gearsmith stepped back to survey me. “There you are. If only your father had the foresight to have a mirror. I’m afraid your mother was the practical one.”
I snickered. “My father fought in this?”
“He told me it served to distract his enemies.”
“Well, how do I look?” I asked with amusement, giving him my most intimidating grimace.
“Why, you look like Baron von Monocle!” Mr. du Gearsmith laughed. “You have several of your father’s features. Albeit shorter and more feminine, naturally.”
“I should put these away. Harkerpal said we’d be ready to fly soon,” I said, setting the sword on my father’s bed.
“Talyen hasn’t returned yet. I thought it’d be best we not leave Loveridge until she arrived with whatever further information she could find.”
In my excitement, I’d nearly forgotten about Captain von Cravat. I turned to the window in hopes of seeing her approaching the ramp to the cargo hold down below. No one came. “What about a quick test flight? We should know whether the ship is air-worthy before trying to fly all the way to the capital, right?”
Mr. du Gearsmith frowned in consideration. He tapped his foot several times, and then nodded. “I must say, much like your father, you present a convincing argument for an adventure. If Harkerpal has finished with his repairs, I suppose a test run couldn’t hurt.”
For the first time in a long while, I smiled in true happiness. I ran over and gave Mr. du Gearsmith a tight hug. “Thank you! Let’s go find him.”
“I received word by carrier pigeon that Liliana has been terribly sick for several days. Her fever wouldn’t break, and she died in agony. How selfish am I that I could not spend her final days by her side? And for what purpose, war? Many speak of giving their hearts and their souls to another. She was my heart and soul. I know not how I can go on.”
An excerpt from Baron von Monocle’s log
Day 2 of the Month of Queens
16th Year of Malaky XVI’s Reign
I took my place on the bridge of the Liliana along with Marina, Harkerpal and Mr. du Gearsmith. I’d never felt this alive in all my sixteen years, but something crept inside of me, giving me the impression I was an imposter.
How could I possibly live up to the man that everyone else on the bridge told stories about and revered as legend? Each time someone mentioned his name, I learned more reasons that I could never be half the person he was. But that didn’t matter now. All I needed to do was focus on launching an airship. Nothing a farm girl couldn’t handle, right? I let out a deep breath, stood at the controls, and gazed out the front window.
Harkerpal had completed his Giffard capacitor installation, lubricated the engine and the main gears, but warned that the ship may not fly for long, and several of the finer components required a few more days’ work. He vouched for the safety of this test flight as long as we kept it short.
Given what I�
��d learned of Harkerpal, I figured he understated his analysis of the ship’s safety. Harkerpal had a perfectionist streak to him. I, on the other hand, wanted to have fun. “Harkerpal, how do I turn the turbines on again?”
The engineer loomed over me, his gaudy red coat nearly blocking my view. As he showed me the controls, he teemed with a similar level of excitement as my own. “Turn this knob, and that will fire up the engines,” he said. “These levers are for altitude. Very important to know your position in that regard at all times. The next set of levers will bank the ship left or right and, finally, the ones at the end will turn the ship.”
“Why would it have two separate sets of levers for banking and turning?” I looked out the window, trying to visualize it. Perhaps I had overestimated a farm girl’s airship piloting capabilities.
“Start her up, and I’ll show you.”
Mr. du Gearsmith clasped his hands together and Harkerpal stepped back. Marina smiled at me from across the bridge, standing in front of her own dashboard that had a strange cone protruding from it. The flight console shined with its brass lining and levers. Fine wood held the panel in a robust encasement. Even though I owned the Liliana, I couldn’t help my gut feeling that I had my hand in the cookie jar when my parents had already told me no. Closing my eyes, I turned the knob and started the engine.
The Liliana trembled as she came to life from her deep slumber, protesting as the steam and gears struggled to remember their functions. A loud squeal came from the room down below, but was soon replaced by a repetitive clanking. I turned to Harkerpal to ensure these sounds were proper, but he didn’t appear worried. A whirring noise took over all sound. The turbines had engaged.
I pushed the lever for altitude control, and the ship rocked. It whined, being removed from what it had long since settled in as its resting place. Moments later, the Liliana lifted off the ground with astounding speed. Through the window, the skyline changed from a view of the trees to a vast blue horizon with little green dots below. “It’s working, it’s really working! We’re flying!”
For Steam and Country: Book One of the Adventures of Baron Von Monocle Page 4