Of Machines & Magics

by Adele Abbot

  “I am disadvantaged,” he said after some moments, shock making his voice hoarse with emotion. “I am defeated,” he dropped his sword to the deck with a dull thud, the knife followed, clattering against the sword.

  “I had supposed…” began the other and administered Calistrope’s second shock. The miscreant who had defeated him so easily was female. Were there such creatures as female river pirates? He wondered, coming back to the present to hear her continue. “… that the talk of river pirates was so much drivel. But no. Here we have just such a specimen.”

  The woman swaggered. A decidedly unfeminine female, Calistrope decided. The sword point dropped to his breast and urged him back to an intersection where more light was available.

  “Lady,” he said and was ignored. The woman’s voice had been husky, Calistrope thought. Attractive. Then quickly qualified the thought, in a way, he added.

  “More presentable than I had expected,” she said. “Raffish perhaps but well dressed for a pirate.”

  “Madam,” Calistrope tried again. “I am no pirate,” he swept an arm about. “I am here to guard these criminals.”

  “Clever, too—and plausible. But you see, that is why I am here. Come, I must take you before the Captain of the Guard. This way.” And she put pressure on the sword point until he backed out to the carcery’s perimeter area.

  Now, for the first time, Calistrope saw his captor properly. He blinked in surprise as he recognized the woman for what she was, one of the Komori, a female order of knights proficient in martial skills and dedicated to recording the histories of Earth’s diverse peoples. “Madam, I do believe you but I really am a guard,” she is very beautiful, thought Calistrope.

  She looked closely at him. “I don’t recognize you and I have been on this caravan since it left Twinmis. Besides, Lawfock is paired with me on this duty. Come along now, we should not keep the Captain waiting.”

  “I am new. We—my colleague and I came aboard a day or so ago. My name is Calistrope.”

  “And mine is Anas. It proves nothing.”

  So Calistrope was prodded along to the small office—hardly distinguishable from the prisoners’ cells—where his superior worked out his schedules and tallied the hours spent.

  “Now, now. What’s this then? Hmm?” he looked up at Calistrope. “Have you been upsetting this young lady.”

  “I found him sneaking round the cells,” Anas told the Captain of the Guard. “Just behind the big one, the woman’s.”

  “Sneaking a look at her, was he? Like his companion?”

  “His companion? No, he was skulking, up to no good.”

  Calistrope found a chink between words to make himself heard. “I was carrying out my duties,” he said between his teeth. “I was on guard duty when this…” Calistrope looked at the woman again, her sultry features, the cap of hair like spun silver, her shining eyes… Calistrope was lost. “When Anas mistook me for a criminal.”

  “Duties!” Minallo’s eyebrows rose. “Today?” he looked at the roster tacked to the wall of his cabin and shook his head. “Not until the thirteenth hour.”

  “I am too early,” groaned Calistrope. “I suppose I misread the time. I was over-anxious to escape my friend’s prating about the wonders of this woman.”

  “A mistake we might all make in the circumstances,” allowed Minallo. “I am quite tired of his eulogies. Still,” he tried to look stern but the grin was glued to his face and would not budge. “We must strive,” the grin became a chuckle. “Strive to…” the chuckle hatched a laugh, “be professional at all times. Ha ha ha. Take our duties at the proper hour. Ha ha.”

  “Anas,” said Calistrope sometime later, relating his encounter to Ponderos. “One of the Komori, you know of them?”

  Ponderos nodded. “I think Shamaz’s people must have come from Amzonea,” he said looking far off along the river where the mountain loomed ever closer, its plume of vapor grey against the nightside sky beyond. “They are the only society I know of where women have such magnificent physiques.”

  “A little over-endow…” Calistrope bit his tongue, the remark might be misconstrued and anyway, Ponderos’ predilections were none of his business. “The Komori extol vitality in both mind and body. Anas is very athletic.”

  “A trifle on the lean side,” Ponderos nodded, his mind disengaged from his tongue. “Somewhat meager about the chest. A somewhat boyish figure, perhaps,” he smiled. “Shamaz though, a fine example. Bosoms fit to suckle an army.”

  Calistrope found the metaphor unappealing. “Intelligent and beautiful,” he said, gazing back the way they had come but seeing Anas in his mind’s eye.

  “Oh yes, indeed,” Ponderos heaved a sigh.

  “As knowledgeable in her field as I am in mine. Did I say she defeated me with her sword?”

  “Her demeanor is regal of course, rightly so. Yet she…” Ponderos smiled at his own thoughts.

  “Proud, but as you say, rightly so. She has masteries to be proud of.”

  “How do you know?” asked Ponderos, suddenly disquieted. “Have you been disturbing her?”

  “Me? Disturbing her? Anas?”

  “Shamaz. We were discussing Shamaz.”

  “I was discussing Anas.”

  At this point, Roli, who had been sitting in a corner with a bowl of soup, climbed to his feet and left. Two men, he thought, old enough to be my great, great grandsires at least and each of them so besotted with a woman they can think of nothing else. Roli shook his head and returned to his duty at the propulsion unit. It was just a little unwholesome that men of such an age should act like rutting youths.

  Roli dipped a bucket of water from the boxed-in hole through the hull and topped up the header tank. Water percolated down through the fine pipes over the charcoal bed, it boiled, steam issued from vents at the rear, the raft drove forward.

  There were no women of an age to interest Roli, not here, on this raft. He considered it outrageous that others should find ardor when he, himself, was deprived of the opportunity.

  Above, out on the deck, Calistrope and Ponderos continued their oblique debate.

  “Skin as dusky as the eastern sky, Ponderos. That is why I failed to see her straight away. She moves like a shadow.”

  “She does not let her admiration show when others are near,” Ponderos murmured. “It would not be fair. I have told her our intentions. She nods. We cannot discuss the matter openly.”

  “Those eyes,” Calistrope stretched and sat back again, “gladly would I drown my soul in their depths. Our intentions?”

  “Exactly. Timing must be exact.”

  “Timing! If only we had met earlier. So little time.”

  Ponderos was on watch, Hafool walked the perimeter. Ponderos stood to one side of Shamaz’s window.

  “It is all arranged,” he told her.

  “All arranged?” Shamaz’s voice was contralto, her enunciation firm, clear. “What is all arranged?”

  “What we were talking about. We agreed that being confined like this was bad for your health.”

  “Ah that. You have spoken with Minallo about guards?”

  “No, no. Not Minallo. Quiet now, Hafool is passing,” they paused, Hafool passed by. “All right. You need not worry about the guards, I and my friend will keep you safe.”

  “I do need the exercise, you are quite right. Spending all my time in here is not healthy.”

  “I will let you know as soon as it is time. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye… and Ponderos…”

  Ponderos turned back.

  “Thank you for your concern.”

  “More than concern, Shamaz.”

  The time came for Ponderos’ arrangements to begin. Calistrope stood just to the side of the window to Shamaz’s rather opulent prison cell. “Shamaz,” he called and tapped lightly against the window frame.

  A few moments later, the curtain was twitched a little to one side. “Ponderos. Ah! It is not Ponderos, who are you and how is it you know my name?”
her tone was a frosty one.

  “I am Ponderos’ friend,” Calistrope explained. “He has a scheme which he wants me to help with. Ponderos tells me you want to leave here and…”

  “That is quite true.” Shamaz’s voice was warmer, the curtain opened a little further. “Ponderos had persuaded me that staying in here is not good for my health and he is right. A daily walk around the raft will improve my constitution remarkably.”

  “Ha! I see. Exercise. Now, I see. I see I have misconstrued the situation. I thought… well, never mind what I thought. My friend has excellent judgment, I shall see you in due course. Goodbye,” Calistrope bowed and returned to his guard duty before anyone had a chance to see him fraternizing with the prisoners.

  Ponderos had scheduled his operation for when both he and Calistrope were on guard duty together. Ponderos took the perimeter watch while Calistrope paced along the inter-cell alleyways. A quarter hour later, when Ponderos was convinced there was no one watching the watchers, he went directly to the cell which held Shamaz. He broke the bumanda-wood lock, drew the locking bar out and opened the door. Beyond the brief sound of wood splintering, there was nothing to draw attention to the break in.

  “Shamaz?”

  “I am coming.”

  Calistrope? Are you there?”

  “Right here, Ponderos. What do wish me to do?”

  “Take Shamaz to the perimeter walk on the starboard side.”

  Shamaz came to the door, pulling a cloak around herself. As Ponderos had hinted, she was—broadly speaking—very well developed. The lady was also very tall; a hand’s breadth taller than Calistrope who was taller than Ponderos by a similar margin. In fact, in proportion to her height, Shamaz was perfectly proportioned, even a little on the slim side.

  Calistrope noticed Ponderos’ eyebrows rise as he saw Shamaz outside her cabin for the first time. “The starboard… that side?” Calistrope, pointed off to the western side.

  For an instant, Ponderos was shaken. He had only ever seen Shamaz seated and her height was a little startling. “Just so,” he said, regaining his composure. “While you do that, I’ll get Roli.”

  “Roli? Is that really necessary?”

  Ponderos looked at his friend strangely. “Of course, naturally. We three are comrades, are we not?”

  “Well, yes,” Calistrope was doubtful. “By all means, if that is your wish.”

  Ponderos ran towards the rear end of the raft and ducked under the low roof which covered the sunken engine room. “Roli?”

  Ponderos eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom and he saw Roli pull the bucket from the well and pour its contents into the tank. He traced the pipes through which the water must trickle, saw the valve which was controlled by a cable from the steering point in the bows. An idea came to him.

  “Roli, it is time to go. You will find Calistrope on the starboard walkway.”

  “Go? Are we leaving already?”

  “We certainly are my boy. Now make haste,” he pointed to the valve he had seen. “Is that the valve which controls the flow of water to the boiler.”

  Roli, pulling on his jacket, nodded.

  “Very good. Be off with you now.”

  Ponderos reached for the valve, he turned it fully on and twisted a loop of the control cable around a nearby bracket. The water ran unchecked to the boiler where it flashed into steam. The gentle pop-pop-pop sound of water boiling changed to a continuous hiss. Gradually, the speed of the raft would increase and hopefully sow confusion among the regular crew.

  Ponderos hurried to reach his friends.

  He came to the place where he had secured the skiff ready for their escape but where were the others? The walkway ahead was deserted. Ponderos looked behind him and there he saw them, walking slowly towards the stern. Not daring to call, Ponderos ran after them.

  They turned when they heard his footsteps.

  “This way,” he said. “I have a small boat ready for us.”

  “I’m sure the Lady Shamaz does not wish for a cruise, Ponderos. A refreshing walk is quite sufficient. Shamaz was just saying how invigorated she feels.”

  Ponderos clenched his teeth. Was every word he uttered to be questioned? “The boat is for our escape, Calistrope. Have you no imagination? Quickly before we are discovered.”

  Shamaz took hold of the railing for support. “Escape? Ponderos, what are you talking about. I have no need to escape, Protection is what I require. Surely your friends are here to protect, not to abduct.”

  Thoughts flitted through Shamaz’s mind, her surmise became certainty. Perfidy!

  “Help me!” She shouted with considerable force. Her brief walk had evidently achieved excellent results, Shamaz grasped the railing tightly with both hands and resisted Ponderos’ quite gentle efforts to disentangle her fingers. “I am being carried off. Help.”

  And help was at hand. Minallo came hurrying from the forward part of the raft, Hafool and Anas from aft and several more from other directions. Swords were much in evidence, Minallo and Anas both had bows and arrows tipped with wicked glass barbs pointed at them. Ponderos and Calistrope raised their hands to signify surrender.

  Calistrope noted the knowing smirk on Anas’ lips and some of the joy which, earlier, he had taken from her presence, leaked away. “This is all a mistake,” he said, attempting to mix dignity and mild outrage at the possibility that anything else might be suspected.

  “Absolutely. I agree with you,” Minallo replied. “Now place your arms on the deck and come up here one at a time. You first Ponderos. Where is the strong box which you have doubtless taken from Shamaz’s residence?”

  “We have taken nothing,” Ponderos was outraged.

  “If that is the case then you must be as inept at piracy as you are at guarding. Prest, run and take a look in the lady’s accommodation and see if her belongings are still there. Terny, go and watch Prest to be certain he leaves everything as he finds it.

  At that point, with the pilot’s attention on what was taking place amidships, the prison raft caught up with the raft in front of it. The shock of collision, knocked most of them off their feet.

  Roli’s mind turned immediately to thoughts of escape. As nimble as if he had been running along the roof ridge of a house, he took three steps along the walkway, vaulted the railing and slashed at the cord which held the skiff to the side of the raft. “Calistrope, Ponderos, quickly.”

  However, nimble and fast as Roli was, there was one faster still and more nimble. There was the twang of a bow string released, there was a tug at Roli’s sleeve and an arrow with scarlet fletchings pinned him to the skiff’s gunwale. Above him on the raft, both bows were drawn taught with arrows aimed at him, the arrow held in Anas’ fingers had scarlet fletches.

  Master Karkadee stood stiffly and listened to the story without comment. Calistrope suspected there were times when the Master would have laughed, had the occasion been less grave. The Purser’s demeanor gave no such impression, Rem Alcudea saw his prestige and repute in great danger; anger and an overwhelming desire for retribution were written plainly in his expression.

  “Every day I see intelligent men whose reason is suddenly replaced by hormonal urges,” Karkadee told Ponderos. Calistrope remembered how Lelaine had said something rather similar. “However,” the master continued, “I have rarely seen this process taken to such extremes.”

  He turned to Calistrope. “And you, who I presume, are a reasonably intelligent person under other circumstances, should have dissuaded your friend rather than joined him in this escapade. It is a farce of such proportions that it will be told up and down the river for a score of generations.”

  Karkadee’s twitching lips stilled, his next words were severe.

  “Which brings us to the matter of the collision you engineered. I am unable to express my feelings on this. It is certain that Purser Alcudea’s reputation will suffer and deservedly so. Just as certain is the damage inflicted on my own renown; doubtless, that too is deserved.

/>   “Purser. Lock them in the cells until we come to Jesm. Shackle the boy in the engine room to work double duty and ensure that he is watched every minute of the day. They will be given over to dry land jurisprudence at Jesm.”

  Calistrope and Ponderos were locked together in the same tiny cell for an old week, Roli worked two watches out of the four every day. When, at last, they were taken outside, Calistrope and Ponderos could hardly walk and shuffled like old men. Roli was so used to gloom and smoke he had to screw his eyes up against the orange sunlight.

  The five days had wrought big changes in the scenery, too. They had left behind the high cliffs and long shadows of the continental massif. The banks spread out on both sides, flat expanses of mud covered in brilliant green and red slimes; ahead, the horizon was flat, the Last Ocean glittering with orange highlights out to where it met the sable sky of nightside. Near enough to dominate the East was the great bulbous mountain with the huge plume of vapor erupting from its higher flanks.

  As they boarded the skiff which would ferry them across to Jesm, Shamaz came onto the deck. Towering above the slight figure of Anas, she gave a forlorn wave of the hand to Ponderos. Ponderos gave her a slight bow in return and climbed down into the boat.

  Chapter 16

  Jesm lay along the edge of a bay on the south western shore of the Long River. It was separated from the water by a strip of noisome mud and to a large extent, it was itself built upon mud. When they docked, Calistrope saw the quays and the streets beyond were built of tarred timbers laid over box-form floats resting on the surface of the mud. Behind the roadway, shops and warehouses were built on foundations of identical design. Two story buildings were rare, and where there was an upper floor, it was small compared to the ground floor to prevent it overbalancing on the floats.