Ellen Under The Stairs

by John Stockmyer

  "Then, if you're right about this, the person best able to coax heat from the stones, would be someone like a cook, who has to prepare food every day."

  Coax?? It was very like the Mage to use words making little or no sense. This time, though, he had used the word "coax" in such a way that Coluth could divine the word's meaning.

  "That would be true, Lord."

  "Then, by all means, let's get the Head cook up here!"

  So saying, the Mage sent a runner to the cook room, the Head cook, a fat old woman named Deninia, herded up the many stairs to the top floor of the Palace and into what the Mage called his "laboratory." Gasping for breath, shuffling her feet, muttering discontentedly, she none-the-less was careful to keep from saying something disrespectful to that man of power.

  "Deninia ... I believe you know who I am?"

  "Yes, Sir." Grudgingly admitted.

  "See that little boat?" He was pointing to the small toy-boat floating on the water in the water-vat.

  "Yes." Said, as if anyone having to ask that question was an idiot.

  "Under here," he said, again pointing, this time to the boat's boiler, "is a small piece of fire stone. I'd like you to think the stone to become as hot as you can make it."

  John-Lyon often spoke as if he was politely asking someone to do something. When, in reality, he was ordering them to do it. Just another oddity of the young Mage.

  "Why?" asked the Head.

  "Just do it."

  On the other hand, there were limits to the Mage's patience, in particular, when he was at a halt in a project he was pursuing with all his attention.

  Her orders received, shuffling to the table, staring at the boat, the cook-Head thought "hot" at the little stone, the stone heating as it should, soon to glow a shiny red. And with short, puffing sounds, the little boat moved forward on the surface of the water! If Coluth had not seen it for himself, he would not have thought that new magic could be added to the old!

  Delighted, the Mage turned to the cook Head. "Thank you, Deninia. You can think the stone cool, now," the cook Head doing that, the toy-boat stopping immediately.

  Still smiling, John-Lyon pulled a golden coin from what he called a "pocket" in his robe, giving it to the cook Head, the old woman grinning toothlessly. "Let me understand this. Once you have heated fire stones, they will stay hot that way until someone 'unheats' them?"

  "Even so, Lord." Said without sarcasm, though everyone in every Band knew the truth of the Mage's question. Coluth believed it was the money in her hand that had helped her to lose her sour nature ... for the moment.

  After his first-joy, as it often happens, Coluth had heard the Mage mutter his disappointment about the small craft's slow speed, boat-work none-the-less moved from the invention room to a secret place in the harbor, construction beginning there on a real boat, but still so undersized it could not hold many.

  On the boat, the Mage also put the mystery weapon, consisting mostly of a copper pipe sticking out the stern. How this Mage-weapon was to work, was the puzzlement, some things the Mage did to be taken on faith that he knew what he was doing.

  * * * * *

  For all but Golden, it was a busy time, workmen ordered into the invention room, everyone excluded except Admiral Coluth and the workman.

  There was no hiding the pounding going on inside, however, though unlike the last time, the smells produced were not disgusting.

  Early in whatever project was underway in the Mage-lab -- John-Lyon called it a "lab" -- well after down-light, Golden (now installed permanently in the room across the hall from the Mage's workroom,) was awakened by noises. Opening his door a little, he saw men bring what had to be fire stones into the Mage's work room, the moving men doing this secretly.

  No surprise there. This, in spite of the fact that no one, except for Golden, had noticed that torches along palace corridors had begun to disappear, those that remained in their iron angled holders caused to flame brighter to maintain the halls' light.

  To be sure, Golden knowing that John-Lyon was interested in fire stones gave Golden an advantage in this discovery, the Mage no doubt having the missing fire stones brought to him to use for his own purposes.

  More hammering and more hammering, until pony carts were brought to the back Palace gate, cloth covered objects carried from the Mage's invention room to the carts, the carts driven off, headed for a remote side of the island where few people lived. (This was what had happened when the Mage was experimenting with his cannon in the last war.)

  As for this end of Xanthin island, the Malachite blockade continued, even the most important people in the Palace -- by the Mage's direct order -- eating meager meals as the capital's food supply dwindled.

  It was later that Golden saw workmen bring to the lab a large tub filled with water, for what purpose, Golden could not guess, the frantic building activity in the invention room soon stopping, construction moved to the harbor where carpenters built giant screens of wood and canvas to shield the back part of the port from view.

  The screen finished, metal workers and wood workers toiled back there during the day, also (because of the Mage's threats to wither them if they fled,) after down-light.

  Rumor said that a boat was under construction in that hidden part of the harbor, Golden willing to believe it since the port was the place for that kind of work

  * * * * *

  John Lyon was pleased. Though nothing had gone as smoothly as he wished -- nothing ever did -- his projects were moving toward completion.

  After the toy steam boat had proved itself by putt-putting around a large tub of water, John commanded a section of the harbor to be screened off from prying eyes, his wood and metal workers back of the screen to build a full scale boat with a putt-putt steam engine in it.

  Construction completed, he'd had the Head cook -- grumbling all the way -- taken to the harbor by pony cart, the woman firing up the stones under the ship's considerably bigger boiler.

  And John had been right again, this time to his displeasure. For in its night time trials in the harbor -- Coluth in charge, John not wanting it known he spoke no Stil-de-grain after dark -- the putt-putt boat had turned out to be as slow as he'd figured it would be. So slow that to have any chance at all of outrunning pursuit cruisers -- even with the Malachites needing to go around the rim of the swirls in the sea -- John had to have the boat made of the lightest materials consistent with the stress the boat would encounter from wave action in Sea Minor. The primitive steam engine just wouldn't crank out much speed, this, in spite of the flat bottom of John's boat, the ship designed that way to skim over the surface rather than plow through the sea like a heavily loaded merchantman. The boat must also carry a minimum of weight. The steam engine, of course, but not soldiers or even food.)

  Fortunately, the ship didn't need to carry water, all this world's seas fresh enough to drink. (People had laughed at John's earlier question about salt water oceans, the way people do when knowing a joke has been told, but failing to "get it.")

  Food wasn't a problem because you could fish for what you needed, gold and silver fish in abundance. John did decide to take along some sea-biscuits and a little dried meat for variety. But that was all.

  As for weapons, he'd have to do without them, even a small addition in weight slowing the boat noticeably.

  Not entirely true. For he did install his new "gun," to be used in desperation should a Malachite cruiser catch them: a modification of DaVinci's steam driven cannon. What John had designed was a light weight, copper tube mounted over the boat's stern. For power, the back of the tube was "plugged" into a device the ancient physicist, Archimedes, invented. Called an "endless screw," the encased "drill bit" pulled up sea water, a crude valve made to let a measured amount of water into the back of the tube, the back half of the tube buried in hot fire stones. Open the valve, turn the crank, and sea water was pushed into the back of the "gun," a portion of the water converted instantly to steam, the tube-cannon shooting a stream
of scalding water from the tube's mouth. "Boiled" down to the bare facts, if an enemy ship came up behind them, John could shoot seething water at them, roasting their sailors while providing John's putt-putt boat with a forward boost -- like cutting in the after burners on a jet fighter.

  Messenger birds flying between Taruo, King of Realgar, and Gagar had established that Pfnaravin was in Realgar. And that a mysterious woman was with him, the sub-text of these "bird-o-grams," that Pfnaravin was making a nuisance of himself, the old Mage suspected of attempting to overthrow King Tauro.

  In short, Tauro was delighted to give sanctuary to John and to John's party -- assuming John could make it to the Claws -- the bird-talk also implying that Tauro hoped John would "take out" Pfnaravin, the legend of John defeating the evil Auro penetrating all bands.

  All in readiness -- as nearly as everything could be planned -- John's final decision was about what personnel to take on the run from Xanthin island to the claws, the claws the name for curving, waterways that cut deep into Realgar.

  What it came down to was, besides Coluth, John was only able to take two, additional sailors, one to see to the "needs" of the steam engine, the other to control the tiller, Coluth choosing his old comrades, silent Philelph and grizzled old Tangu.

  Admiral Coluth was part of the team, of course, John wanting Coluth's advice on all, sea related matters. John also needed the Admiral's sense of direction. Apparently -- John's compass question producing blank looks all around -- navigational devices unknown here, an experienced seaman developing a sixth sense about direction, it probably helping to be able to see so far into the distance in this flat world; Bandworld with no horizon line like on John's round one.

  And that was it: four men only, Coluth and John able to "spell" the sailors so the men could get some sleep. The boat just wouldn't take any more weight and still have a chance to outrun the Malachite cruisers, and in particular those new biremes lurking outside the harbor.

  A bonus of these many activities was that John rarely thought about the Mage-Disk in his pocket; was grateful that it no longer had the power to bother him.

  * * * * *

  Platinia had again managed to slip out of the Palace, she being so small -- her fear, not that she would be seen, but of what the Mage would do to her when he learned she had disobeyed him. For he had told her to stay in the Palace; that she could not go with him on his boat.

  She had never been as glad that she was a tiny person as when John-Lyon was making his great magic. For, being small, also moving slowly, then staying still, she could get close to John-Lyon and to those working for the Mage, doing that without anyone noticing. Mostly, people saw things that moved. (They did not see the mouse while it was quiet. But only when it ran across the floor.) So, Platinia was the still, quiet mouse, in this way learning of the Mage's plans.

  Earlier, she heard him order the harbor workers to build another magic boat, this one not rowed or moved by wind-magic.

  Platinia had gone with him on the last boat, to Azare. Also Zwicia. Had stayed close to him, to strengthen him against the bad Mage, Auro. At that time, she was so fearful of John-Lyon, she had been trying to kill him. For she thought that all men, like the priests of Fulgur, would torture her. As King Yarro had done to make her use her Etherial power to strengthen his pleasures. With food. With women. So she had feared John-Lyon until she had been with the young Mage for a long, long time, finding, at last, that he did not want to hurt her -- except for that one time, and that was because of his Mage-Disk. After that, something new had happened to her. It was what people called falling in love. The trouble was that, while she could sometimes strengthen the Mage's care for her into making him love her also, she had been unable to make that feeling last in him.

  It was because of the woman, Ellen.

  Platinia had been sure that, when she had pointed out this Ellen to the old Mage, Pfnaravin, he would take revenge on John-Lyon by killing Ellen. But the old Mage had not done that. Instead, he had left Xanthin, taking the woman with him. Now, the young Mage was building a boat to chase after Pfnaravin, and to take the woman back.

  There was nothing Platinia could do to stop John-Lyon from going in his boat. She had thought and thought and thought about how to do that, but could not think of a way to stop the boat. Since she could not keep the Mage from going after the woman, the best Platinia could think to do was to go in the boat herself, to be with the Mage all the time. That way, if John-Lyon took the woman away from Pfnaravin, Platinia would be there to think of some way to get rid of her.

  So, when Platinia heard the boat had been tested in the harbor, and that Admiral Coluth would soon go with John-Lyon and two sailors, but that was all, she had slipped out of the palace at night, the first gate-guard asleep, the second muttering to himself about something so that Platinia could slip his gate-key out of his tunic pouch, use it, then return the key. The third gate-guard was gone, probably to the Palace to be friendly to one of the young drudges.

  Walking to the harbor in the fog of down-light was ... terrible! she was so wet and shivering with cold and from fear that the dreadful night creatures would eat her (for she had seen them when with the Mage in Azare.)

  Arriving so late there were few people there to see her, Platinia hard to see anyway since she was buried to her head in fog. Unnoticed, she squeezed under the giant screen, to find the new boat tied to the dock on the other side.

  Quietly, she had gotten on the boat and, looking around, had found a large coil of rope at the boat's center, the rope wound around a space large enough for little Platinia to hide in.

  That was several up-lights ago.

  Hearing that it was today the Mage-boat would set out from the harbor, she had slipped through the gates when other people were going through, in that way getting to the boat, hiding before up-light inside the tiny, rope-coil space.

  From there, she had heard the Mage and the sailors and Admiral Coluth step from the dock onto the boat.

  She had heard old Deninia grumble, and smelled the fire stones Deninia had heated up, after that, felt the boat bounce up as Deninia stepped back to the wharf.

  Platinia also began to feel the heat of the fire stones at the center of the boat and at the back, Platinia's hiding place near the center.

  She had heard the tie-up ropes pulled in.

  After that came a coughing sound, the boat lurching forward, Mage-Magic driving it.

  She could even tell when the boat was beyond the harbor mouth, because the sea outside was not as gentle as the sea inside the harbor.

  It was then that the heat from the Mage-Magic at the center of the boat had gotten so strong that she could not hide in that tiny space any longer.

  "Hey," yelled the sailor, Tangu, surprised to see her come out.

  At that, the Mage came running from his place at the back of the little boat, his white silk Mage robe flapping.

  "Platinia! How did you get here?"

  "I beg forgiveness," she said, falling to her knees, banging her forehead into the ... deck. At least that is what she thought the wood "cover" over the bottom of the boat was called. She did not know much about boats.

  "You were supposed to stay in the Palace."

  "I could not," was all she could think of to say.

  When she looked up, Admiral Coluth was there, also coming from his place at the back of the boat, the Admiral in his naval uniform.

  Platinia could see this because up-light had come, the sky over Stil-de-grain turned gold, the sea around them gold as well.

  "How did you get out of the Palace?"

  "Through the gates." It was all she could think of to say. Anyway, it was the truth.

  "We've got to do something about security in the Palace, Coluth," the Mage said, turning to the Admiral. "Apparently people can come and go at their pleasure."

  The Admiral nodded.

  "We've got a stowaway, as you can see."

  "Stowaway?"

  Platinia was glad that someone els
e could not understand the Mage's words. That it was not just her. She knew she did not know much about the world, locked away as she had been in temple Fulgur. But Admiral Coluth had been ... everywhere ... and he did not understand the Mage, either. Platinia was glad of that.

  "Stowaway means someone who is not supposed to be on the boat but is in hiding, coming out after the boat sails."

  "Yes," Coluth said, understanding at last, as did Platinia. She was the ... stowaway ... the Mage meant. "Too late to go back and put her ashore."

  Now was the time the Mage would either punish her -- perhaps wither her with a Mage-bolt, so she would die. Or else he would let her stay on the boat. He might throw her in the water, but Platinia did not think he would do that.

  "Fortunately, she doesn't weigh much, and also doesn't take up much space." John-Lyon turned to speak to her. "You realize that I forbid you to come for your own protection, don't you? This is risky business."

  Risky business? Another thing the Mage said that she did not understand.

  "But there's nothing we can do about that now. We can't go back. That would be even more dodgy that to go on."

  Dodgy. Another Mage-word.

  So -- she was to be allowed to stay!

  "Thank you for making me so happy, great Mage!" Still kneeling, she put her head on the ... deck ... again, to show her thank you.

  "I can only hope you'll still be glad by the end of the journey," the Mage said in his dust dry voice, shaking his head. "You've put your neck in the noose, like the rest of us."

  Neck in a noose??

  "For now, try to keep out of the way, not that there are that many people to keep clear of."

  "Again, thank you."

  "All right."

  And suddenly, Platinia felt herself leave the Mage's thoughts, his mind returning to how the boat was going, and to looking over the back of the boat again, to see if anyone was following them.

  The two men walked away to stand behind the sailor, Philelph, the sailor in his seaman jacket. Philelph steering.