by J. P. Wagner
“The Stew-pot?”
“Er yes, as that’s what it sounds like while it works, Lord.”
“You’ve successfully built a steam driven wagon, Gryff?” Carrtog hazarded a guess based on the steam engine that was secured the center of bed between the four wheels. He circled the machine, suddenly immeasurably pleased with his protégé despite the grim nature of the current circumstances. The wheels were much wider than a wagon’s, two large in the back and two small in the front, and there was room in the front for at least three passengers to sit facing forward.
Gryff pointed to the center of the machine. “The wagon-bed has been extended a bit,” he explained, “in order to allow for the steam engine itself, as well as passengers or cargo, or both. Just like a steam locomotive, it has the capacity to pull heavy loads for greater distance than a horse drawn wagon though it is not constrained by following any track.”
“I see you have the power going to the rear wheels.”
“Yes. Powering the front wheels and steering from the rear would have required the driver to sit with the engine in front of him, blocking his view, and it seemed to me that steering with the rear wheels would have required a bit more care to be able to turn the vehicle at the corner and not just a bit too late. Of course, one of my concerns was to give some leverage to the mechanism turning the wheels. I made the front wheels smaller to make them that much easier to turn.”
“It is an ingenious design Gryff. And you said it runs?”
“Yes. Even over dirt roads, as you might have guessed by the width of the wheels themselves. But I have added purpose to it beyond the carting of equipment, Lord.”
“The hauling of heavy loads sounds useful in its own right, are you sure you haven’t outdone yourself by added further functionality?”
“I would hope not, Lord.” Gryff reached for a lever on the side of the stew-pot and four large clamps closed around the spokes of the wheels to lock the machine in place. Another lever dropped four heavy metal arms to the floor from the undercarriage. The metal plates on the ends were equipped with spikes that could be set in place to dig into the ground. The final lever unlocked an extendable arm on the top of the engine that split into three branches at full extension. The arm was more of a wide tray in the shape of a shallow V with a groove down the center. The two offshoots locked into place at the end to form what looked to be the branching arms of a crossbow.
Gryff cranked another handle until the platform contraption was pointed at an angle towards the ceiling. At Gryff’s request, Carrtog stepped forward to wind a knob on his side and a broad hook moved in the groove from the highest point to the lowest end. The motion of the winding made a ratcheting sound as hidden gears moved and tension seemed to be wound into the mechanism. And indeed the perpendicular arms curved by a fraction with the winding.
“There. Now it’s in the set position. The engine will do the remainder of the winding and the arms will store the tension until it reaches maximum and the release is tripped.”
Suddenly the aim of this contraption became infinitely clear.
“You mean to launch the glider into the air from a standing position as a crossbow looses a bolt.”
“Yes, Lord.”
Ingenious indeed!
“Has it been tested?”
“Well, I had hoped to do so in the coming days but…”
“Then we’ll do so on the road.”
#
There were five troopers at the head of the column, two of them out of sight, scouting the trail. The stew-pot, with a train of three wagons, came next. Gryff was at the controls with Carrtog and Yakor in seats, their mounts hitched to the back, trotting along.
Behind that group were another thirty troops, including some newly assigned to Carrtog’s guard to replace the ones lost in the attack by the false merchants. Behind those were another ten wagons, drawn by horses, hauling the supplies for the expedition.
Carrtog looked down at the brass-bound wooden chest next to his feet that carried his supplies for magic casting. Yakor followed his glance. “You know the water won’t hold still enough in a scrying bowl on this thing for you to take a reading on her direction. Besides, they’re probably still following the road themselves. You can take another reading this evening, and one again tomorrow morning, just to make sure. Other than that, just be patient.”
Carrtog gave a half-smile but said nothing. Loading up and setting off had taken longer than he’d anticipated and he was afraid that anything he said might just be anger, anger at anyone and everyone, which would be futile.
The road, of course, was familiar from having ridden along it in patrols, though traveling it in the hissing, clinking stew-pot was very different. There were still the trees and bushes giving off their various scents, though these were competing with the smoke from the boiler and the oil, heated by the friction of the moving parts. Riding up here on the wagon one got only the occasional whiff of horse, which Carrtog found himself missing.
From time to time Yakor would toss fresh fuel into the stove that heated the boiler, and Carrtog would wield the oilcan. Parts of the pistons and their shafts could be oiled while the device was moving, but they had found it necessary to stop once in a while to oil the wheels. Still the promise of using the glider to scout far ahead of their path made the effort worthwhile.
By the first evening, Carrtog had gotten sufficient control of himself that he did not feel quite so near to breaking out in anger if he spoke. He still begrudged the time spent resting overnight, but realized that it was necessary.
As they walked around the campsite, Yakor stuck out his jaw at the wagons that had been pulled along behind the stew-pot. “You really feel it was necessary to bring all the contents of the machine-shed?”
“As Gryff pointed out, better that than to suddenly find ourselves lacking some particular thing.”
“He may be right, at that.”
#
As they moved further southward, the countryside was less forested, the trees transitioning to more and more farmers’ fields, until towns, villages, and hamlets replaced the forests as the main feature spotted along the length of the road.
They stopped occasionally for provisions at this town or that, but when they stopped overnight they set up camp just off the road, somewhere a fair distance from any town. Only the younger troopers grumbled about not having the chance to rest in a town where beer and fresh food might be available, but these were quickly hushed by the older and more serious among them. They were bound to rescue the lord’s wife from whoever had kidnapped her and were therefore on campaign, so any diversions must be whatever they could devise in camp. In the meantime, each evening they saw to the condition of their weapons, removing each scrap of rust, making the edges of their blades keen, but not so keen as to risk splintering, making sure barrels of their firearms were free of the least remnant of burned powder, the flint not too worn, and so on. After that, most of them, particularly the older veterans, took any opportunity to sleep.
Carrtog spent some part of each night reading over the notes he had taken while studying under Enemantwin and Gwaitorr, as well as notes he had made from his own researches. Then he devised spells to improve the effective properties of the oil so that it would not clump in the dust and so that it would resist evaporation or burning at high temperatures. After that was done, he turned his attention to altering the wood that they used as fuel for the stew-pot so that it would burn more efficiently. Eventually Yakor would shoo him off to sleep and he would lay awake for a time, thinking about Addy.
#
By the fourth day, Carrtog was growing tired of blindly following the faint trail left by the kidnappers and decided to take the glider up to gain a better view of the path ahead.
He told Yakor, “I want to have a good look at that road, specially any turn-offs they might have taken further on.”
; “So you’re using the glider? Wouldn’t it be safer to use the balloon?”
“True, but the balloon gives poor visibility over long distances and that’s what I’m looking to gain.”
Yakor shrugged and spat. “Your choice. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if you rescue Lady Adengler and die in the process. She’ll kill you.”
“Doesn’t that sound a bit contradictory to you? It does to me. Are you sure you’re not afraid she’ll kill you?”
It didn’t take long to set up the stew-pot, in fact it took longer to assemble the glider which had to be transported without its wings attached. Once assembled, it took five men to lift the glider onto the launching platform, but thankfully, the shallow trough did a passable job of holding the undercarriage of the glider in place once seated.
Carrtog settled hat and goggles on his head, preparing to climb into the mounted glider.
“Perhaps I should go instead, Lord,” Gryff said nervously from his position near the controls. “I haven’t had a chance to test the launch. What if…?”
“I have faith that you’ve done your job as I’ve taught you. There’s no cause for concern.”
“But the forces on launch, the sudden burst of speed. What if it’s too much for the glider to handle, or the pilot?”
“The spells we devised to protect the pilot on landing should work the same for takeoff. And the glider itself has been reinforced three times over. As I said, there’s no cause for concern.”
Yakor snorted and crossed his arms, “And I suppose that’s what I’m to tell Addy when I rescue her without you?”
Carrtog glared at his armsman and climbed into the glider. Seated and secured in the harnesses, he gave Gryff the signal to engage the engine.
The stew-pot chugged into action and the tension arms began to flex. Carrtog took a deep breath and hoped his words of confidence didn’t prove unfounded.
Carrtog was forced back against the seat as the mechanism tripped the release and the glider leaped forward. His stomach did an uncomfortable flop as he was launched into the air. He felt the flex of the spells all around him as they did their work to buffer the shock. Without them things would have been very different. As it was, the glider shot into sky like a lead ball from the barrel of a pistol. Five times the height of the tallest tree the momentum was spent and Carrtog had a chance to gasp a breath before remembering he needed to engage the controls to point the nose level so as not to stall. From there the flight became normal and Carrtog circled back to the stew-pot once to ensure everyone knew he was still in one piece before angling back to the road and playing out a ways. Below him the road stretched onwards through the trees towards Waliauchel. Unfortunately there was no caravan of wagons on the horizon that could be labeled as his target, though Carrtog hadn’t expected there to be. The kidnappers had a head start and were likely travelling much lighter; that was if they’d chosen to keep the ruse of travelling merchant and hadn’t ditched the wagons completely.
The glider started to settle. “God of the Winds!” He muttered. He was going to have to turn the glider round and fly back to the stew-pot. There must be some way to cause the air to lift up on the wings and keep him in the air longer! The craft continued to settle; no, there was no time to fool with spells right now. Time to get back as close to the stew-pot as possible. He would have to put some work into that, though.
#
The trail led right through and past Waliauchel. As they approached the city, Carrtog spoke to Yakor. “I think we’d best stop and talk to the princess. Someone is sure to report our passage to her, and I’d prefer for her not to think that we were sneaking by.”
Yakor gave him a look.
“Think about it, Yakor. She hasn’t got much power on her own, but she could certainly interfere if she thought something was suspicious. And on the other hand, she might just have some notion what, if anything, her father might have been up to.”
Yakor nodded. “Even if she knows, do you think she’ll tell you?”
“Gods help me, Yakor, I’m not going to go in and say, ‘princess, do you happen to know if your father has given orders to have your best friend kidnapped and her daughter murdered?’”
“Just so long as you actually give some thought to just what you will be saying.”
It took a while longer to get an audience with the princess than Carrtog wanted. In fact, he found himself barely hanging on to the rags of his temper by the time they were finally ushered into her presence. When she saw them, concern immediately flooded her face. “Where is the Lady Adengler?”
“She has been kidnapped, Your Highness. A group of merchants came to Kilgarhai, bearing letters of introduction purporting to be from your father, the king. While I was out with a force attacking the rebels, they attacked my house, killing several people, and taking away the Lady Adengler. They also attempted to murder our daughter, but were foiled by our guards and by Yakor. I have brought my guards and a few other people and am on her trail.”
“And the trail leads down here? I would have thought it would have been a rebel maneuver.”
“So would I. It may still be rebels, but rebels who have found a hiding place down here. I am fairly certain, though, that this is no false trail being laid for me; I have checked several times to be sure that the trail we follow is real and no false stratagem.”
“Tell me the truth, Lord Carrtog. Do you suspect my father?”
There was no use hesitating, or trying to give her some kind of pacifying response; she knew as well as he of her father’s changeable moods.
“Your Highness, I cannot deny that there is a strong possibility your father is involved. I hope you will not attempt to turn me aside.”
She shook her head. “No, Lord Carrtog. Lady Adengler is a good friend of mine, and I would not see her harmed. All I would ask is that before you turn yourself irrevocably against my father, you should be quite sure that it is he who is behind this.”
He bowed. “Yes, Your Highness, I will certainly promise you that.”
The princess sat still for a moment, then spoke again. “My father still writes to me often, and he is constantly troubled by the rebel broadsheets alluding to his behavior, calling him a coward.” Her expression showed her own concern. “The Gods do not give it to every man,” she continued, “to show bravery in each and every circumstance, and yet most men, perhaps even all men, find it a fault that any man cannot always press forward in spite of his own fears. I worry over what he might do, just to prove himself.”
Carrtog nodded. “I understand, Your Highness.”
He left unsaid his own concern, that the king’s care for his own reputation might cause him to take actions which could only lead to more trouble.
The princess thought for a moment longer, then asked, “I am limited in the things I can do, but can I give you any help? After all, Adengler was my lady-in-waiting and a friend for many years.”
Carrtog thought, then shook his head. “Thank you, Your Highness, but I am well-supplied and have sufficient funds of my own. I will only ask for your good wishes.”
“That goes without saying, Lord Carrtog.”
“Thank you, then, Your Highness. With your leave, then, I will continue on my hunt.”
“Go, then, and may the Gods go with you.”
#
“So, then, did we gain anything from that stop?”
Carrtog glanced at Yakor. “Not much, I confess, save for a bit of a closer look into the king’s mind. I can’t say I’m certain just yet, but it seems more likely now that he might just have set this plan into motion in order to pull me down. I suspect that perhaps even now a message has come to me at Kilgarhai suggesting that my wife is being held against my being less efficient in the protection of the railway. Supposedly, I will be held in a bind; if I agree to such a demand and become less rigorous about pursuing the rebels, then
the king will relieve me, with regret. If I refuse, on the other hand….” He stopped there, unwilling to force his mind to face the consequences.
“But you will be doing neither. They will have to wait a certain time for the message to reach you before they act, and in that time we will track them down and pull their hiding place down around their ears.”
“With relish.”
Chapter 28
Two days west of Waliauchel, travel became more difficult. What had been roads degenerated to mediocre roads, then to rough trails, then something just better than game trails.
Still, the scrying bowl said that Lady Adengler was further along the road.
The green forest closed in round them once again. Every day the scouts went out ahead of them, every evening they set sentries around their camp, but nothing came of it.
#
Carrtog moved the glider controls slightly, adjusting his course; he noted the slight drag on his muscles caused by the spell that prevented his body from bouncing around and breaking his bones against the frame.
He was checking the road on which the kidnappers had traveled. This was his second consecutive day at this endeavor.
They had learned they could launch the glider and travel ahead a ways before Carrtog would find them to land nearby — though the landings had grown more and more difficult in the rough wilderness. Scouting in the glider took much less effort than riding ahead and with the stew-pot’s ability to transition quickly back into a wagon they didn’t lose any forward progress waiting for the glider to return.
On the fourth morning, Carrtog spotted a rough log-built house off to the right of the main road a ways in the distance. The spell guiding him to Addy lined up with the house. He still had some altitude left so he turned in that direction. As he approached, the spell remained steady, still pointing to the house. Just to be certain, he circled, and at every turn the magical trail stopped at the house.
He took the glider back to the stew-pot, landed, and slid out onto the ground. Yakor came over at a brisk pace.