The Dragon Knight and the Steam World

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The Dragon Knight and the Steam World Page 12

by D. C. Clemens


  “Learn it first, then we’ll see what you do with the knowledge. In the meantime, may my brother and I be set free from these shackles? Or do we still terrify you all too much?”

  “Heh,” said an amused Alex.

  “Hardly more than children,” said a less amused Hugo under his breath. Over his breath, he continued with, “I will order every Vanguard on the Orkan to fire upon you both if there is any indication of treachery from either of you. Understand, boys?”

  “As well as two children can, sir,” I replied.

  Hugo looked as if he wanted to respond to my quip, but Reet forestalled his words when she said, “I too will command my underlings to take lethal measures if they witness you causing harm. However, they will also treat you with respect between now and that moment. May such a moment never come.”

  The krewen bowed low, then moved to leave the brig. Hugo left after her. Before his feet took him away last, Nico directed Holson to free the newcomers from their binds.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex and I climbed to the top deck to get some air and a view our late afternoon surroundings. As it turned out, the warm air was not much fresher than it had been inside the stale metal box. The Orkan was docked by a large town flaunting dozens of brick and metal towers. Some were tall clock towers of dark stone, others spewed black smoke or white steam from thin pillars sticking out their roofs. Except for a pair of dome-like structures, the rest of it resembled the ruined island buildings we passed through. A loud, lengthy whistle sounded off from somewhere in or alongside the city.

  Closer and higher pitched, another whistle got me paying attention to a black and white metal ship sailing farther out to sea. Though slimmer and shorter than the one I occupied, this ship showed off two chimney stacks and a pair of traditional masts, though the masts lacked sails. Regulated nearer the coastline, several chimney ships with spinning wheels attached to their flanks paddled back and forth. No sizable ship seemed to be using sails.

  “What do you think of Durnmere?”

  I turned to my left to see Isabel, who, among the Vanguard who followed, stood closest to me. Taking in another gaze at the city, I answered, “It’s charming… in a garish sort of way. Too bad I won’t be able to experience it yet.”

  “It’s prettier from a distance. I’ve come to learn nearly everything in Dretkeshna can be described that way.”

  There were two paths my mouth could have responded to her statement. Since we were not alone, I picked the non-flirtatious one. “Dretkeshna?”

  “Oh, this world’s name. You have much to learn about names and how things work around here, yes? If the major allows it, I can teach you how to shoot. I’m the second best shot on this ship.”

  Stepping nearer, a krewen said, “Second best for a human, maybe.”

  “I beat you last time, Svren.”

  “You have to beat me more than once to overtake me.”

  “And I will. Anyway, I’d be the better teacher. You’re too impatient.”

  “I’d be plenty patient if it means teaching a dragon knight.”

  “Wait,” I said. “If you two are fighting over who’s the second best shot, then who’s the first?”

  “The major,” answered Isabel. “But he’ll be too busy doing leadership things to teach you much of anything.”

  “The major won’t give ghouls use of our weapons,” said Bregman from somewhere behind me, his voice still muffled by a helmet.

  “If it means he can kill real ghouls, he will,” said Svren. “The major is braver than you are.”

  “Isabel!” yelled Felicia from farther back.

  The twin exhaled noisily and went to check what her sister wanted.

  To Svren, I said, “Learning about your weapons may not be something I can yet do, but I doubt anyone will deny me looking over a map or two?”

  “I don’t know.” The bird-man looked over his shoulder. “Bregman might be too troubled by the idea of paper cuts to allow such a thing.”

  “Up yours, bootlicker. I’m troubled about being burned alive by black fire. Or get gnawed on by a dragon.”

  “Deaths we would have suffered by now if that was his goal. Now, Sir Mercer, Sir Alexandros, let’s go find us some maps.”

  We went down to meet with Holson in his cabin. He gave us permission to study several general purpose maps. We laid them out on one of the long tables everyone ate on. With the help of Svren and a few others that came by, I got a good look at the lay of the two-dimensional land.

  Depending on how one defined what made a nation a nation, the human side of Grenhath supported eleven of them. Nevertheless, only three or four regularly influenced affairs on a continental scale. Predictably, the most influential just so happened to be where the wealthiest families resided.

  For instance, the Galan family began their railroad enterprise in their homeland of Esmolana, which controlled the whole of a peninsula that curved out of southwestern Grenhath. A thousand miles to the east of Durnmere, the Nores family mined the mountains, which made up the northern border of Vilves. Near the center of human territory lied Osburk, a small yet influential nation where the Rathmores lived.

  Being at the western brink of an arid, out-of-the-way grassland, Durnmere was the only real point of interest in the sparsely settled country of Pleulor outside its capital. Evidently, the city mostly acted as a convenient port for the fishing industry and as a place where old metal went to be scrapped. Ships of all kinds also stopped by for repairs when they couldn’t make it to Esmolana. The city was also home to many families of those Vanguard and sailors on board.

  The maps showed Grenhath to be the northernmost continent on Dretkeshna. Huge glaciers encroached upon the northern fringes of the landmass, which extended to the top of the world in a vast ice sheet called the White Wastes. Even in the warmest and calmest of times, the cruelly bitter air froze anything alive within minutes up there, making it the best natural defense against a fiend invasion from the north. To the south, the equally merciless Godegar Ocean proved an effective barrier of its own, though a winged fiend army was always a concern.

  To the krewen-populated eastern half, Grenhath drooped to the south, partly explaining the warmer environment the bird-men enjoyed. In addition to that feature, extensive mountain ranges crisscrossing the territory provided a greater amount of rivers, fertile valleys, defensible positions, and barricades that blocked or redirected the frigid northern winds.

  According to Svren, the dividing nature of mountain ranges did not stop his kind from thinking themselves as a unified kingdom. The reason humans viewed krewen as slow to act was due to their custom of waiting to see how popular a certain economic or political maneuver went over with different populations. You could double that time for policies involving humans. Not efficient, but they believed it avoided unwanted civil strife in the long run.

  A krewen came into the room with Felicia. To his fellow bird-man, he asked, “Should I assume we’ll stay the first two days?”

  “I think I should stay. You go now, Ishree.”

  “Stay two days for what?” I asked.

  Felicia took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “Half the crew goes ashore for some personal time. In two days they swap with the other half.”

  “Like Isabel is going first again, right?” questioned Svren.

  In a curt sigh, she said, “Yeah.”

  “And you don’t like that?” I asked.

  “No, it’s fine.

  “Not really,” said Ishree. “The second group rarely gets two days to get their break. Unless something important broke, it’s usually only one before we get back to the water.”

  “Isabel needs more civilization than me. It’s fine.”

  “I’m surprised. She looked ready to chatter to a sore throat with our new sirs here. Why leave first?”

  “She’ll have time later.” To me, she said, “My dearest sister likes to mention that we need a retirement plan after the Vanguards, and that mostly involves tr
ying to make connections in high places when she can. You and your brother can be big pieces to that end. Thought it’d be best to warn you.”

  “She’ll be disappointed to find that neither my brother nor I will be good respites from a warrior’s life.”

  “Well, she’ll still be interested in all the connections you can make.”

  “If she doesn’t care for the warrior’s life, why stay? Because of you?”

  “Yeah. My fault.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know. I’m just messin’ with you.”

  She didn’t sound like she was. “In any case, once you’re in, how difficult is it to leave the Vanguards?”

  “Not much in the way of freedom the first time you enlist. It’s a six year commitment with no proper way out. Desertion is often met with hanging if they catch you. If you come back a second time, you can serve for another four years with much better pay and a few options to retire earlier.”

  “Got to keep us around somehow,” said Svren. “Not a long line outside any recruitment office.”

  “Better that way. I’d rather have ten vets cover my back than a hundred trigger-happy kids try the same thing. Been there, done that, no thank you.”

  “But you would think half of those kids become vets someday.”

  “Commanders tend to get bullish when they do get a lot of fresh blood. They suddenly think they got an army they can clear whole islands of ghouls with. That’s how you get a bunch of dead recruits, not a bunch of vets.”

  “Human commanders, maybe.”

  “Why are you two here?” I asked. “You krewen, I mean. You’re nowhere near your territory.”

  “It’s not my territory,” replied Ishree. “I was born in Esmolana. Vanguard pay healers better than regular soldiers, so I join rather than stay in a clinic where humans avoid me.”

  “And I got in trouble setting up an underground gambling house,” said Svren. “They said I could go to a jailhouse for thirteen years or help the humans kill ghouls for six. Easy choice for me. My business partner was also turning the place into a combat ring, so, in reflection, I’m glad I got caught before it spiraled into something more devious.”

  “A pragmatic view,” I said.

  A black-haired young man with soft steps and in a dirty green coat came in. Strapped on top of his disheveled head were thick glass spectacles, a bluish hue glinting off them. Not knowing whether to speak to me or my brother, he switched from one to the other when he said, “Doctor Saldanha, I mean, Major Holson has allowed Doctor Saldanha to make an examination of the visitors. Would either of you like to be first?”

  “Ghouls can’t get sick,” said Svren. “Oh! Not that I’m calling anyone here ghouls, of course. I’m only saying I know the accursed don’t get ill in the traditional sense, so a physical evaluation seems pointless, hmm?”

  “To begin with, you’re forgetting about the festered. You know, those ghouls that grow tumors everywhere? And secondly, we don’t have a deep understanding on how corruption affects those who retain their faculties. Any chance to learn about such beings cannot be ignored.”

  “Sounds like you want to cut us up and take samples,” said Alex. “No thanks.”

  “Er, well, that’s not exactly what we’ll do. It’ll be more of a series of tests that will evaluate basic strength, endurance, spell casting, and the like.”

  Standing up, I said, “I wouldn’t mind providing such information. Might as well meet this doctor person now, anyway.”

  I followed the man in green through the narrow, low-lit metal halls. Not able to leave me without a Vanguard escort, Svren came with us.

  “Who are you?” I asked the new guide.

  “Oh, um, Lucas Tassis, sir. I am Inma’s apprentice.”

  “Are you Vanguards?”

  “No, not officially. The amount of medical study required to make us skilled doctors gives us little time to learn how to fight with true competency, obey orders without question, or move around in armor. The Vanguard and Rangers have their field medics, of course, but their job is mainly to keep the wounded alive long enough so we can treat them.”

  “But going by the lump under your coat, you do carry a weapon by your right hip.”

  “Hmm, no problem with your eyesight. Well, ghouls capable of flying or swimming do occasionally attack ships, so one cannot be without a gun or two when out on missions.”

  “Or from what I’ve heard so far, out anywhere.”

  “Right you are.”

  Lucas pushed open a door a couple of hallways later. I went in while Svren posted himself out in the hall. Like the majority of the ship’s rooms, this one would not make a claustrophobic man feel welcome. A bed in a metal frame monopolized much of the wall to my left. Another did the same to the wall opposite the door. Three rows of metal storage drawers obstructed the wall to my right. One ajar drawer showed an array of remedial implements such as saws, small blades of various shapes, pincer things, and precise stabbing prongs. Stacked on the drawers were glass vials and cups.

  On a chair with three wheels sat a woman somewhere in her fifties. She wore a similar green overcoat as her apprentice, with the added layer of a white apron stained in timeworn browns and reds. Her gray hair was wrapped up under a cleaner white headscarf. Using yet something else made of metal, she wrote on a thin piece of white parchment supported by a reedy slab of wood. Small spectacles rested on her nose.

  Interrupting her scribbling, her apprentice said, “Doctor Inma Saldanha, this is Mercer Eberwolf, the corrupted dragon knight.”

  Lowering her spectacles, which a chain kept from falling off her neck, the doctor slowly stood up to get a better look at me. Even at her full height the top of her head only came up to the middle of my chest. She stuck out her hand. I rose an eyebrow.

  “Shaking hands is not something you do in Orda?” she asked in a scratchy voice.

  “Why would we do that?”

  “It’s a greeting.”

  “Oh.”

  I extended my hand. She took it and lightly moved it up and down.

  “What is a proper greeting in Orda?”

  “We normally bow or nod to one another. Less formal greetings consist of hugs or kisses on the cheek. I’m not big on those last two.”

  “Well, bowing and nodding is more sanitary.” She handed her notes to her apprentice. “Now then, I’m surprised to see minimal signs of corruption in you.”

  “His brother exhibits the paler skin and darker veins we expect,” said Lucas.

  “That’s because he’s completely corrupted,” I said. “I’m not.”

  “What?” asked Inma. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “About a third of my soul is my own, the one I’m currently using. If I were to use my corrupted prana, then my face and skin would show the signs you expected to see.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing. To curb corruption’s progress… How?”

  “My dragon partner is the biggest reason. As long as his flame can consume my corruption, I can keep it in check. It’s how I can cast a black flame.”

  “Ahh, that’s right. I hope to see you display that, but we can’t do it here. I’d like to run a few basic tests first.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like this one…” The doctor walked to the corner between the bed and drawers. A silver metal handle was braced against the wall. I could see it attached to a chain that went through the wall by way of a small hole. “There’s a heavy weight hanging on the other side. Please, when I say so, use both hands to pull back the handle as far as you can. When you stop, simply hold on to it until you can’t anymore. I’d first like to see how you fare without using the corrupted part of yourself, so refrain from applying the power.”

  At the same time I took hold of the chest-high handle, Inma extracted a round object from her pocket.

  “What’s that?”

  She laid the gold item face up on her palm. “A watch. Er, a small clock. Do t
hey not have them this small in Orda?”

  “Not that I’m aware, though I’m not privy to all timekeeping tools.”

  “Technology is a funny thing. Despite having better access to resources and magic, it sounds as though Orda’s inventors have not progressed as far as the ones here. Perhaps the constant threat of ghoul attacks have forced us to advance at a faster pace.”

  “Orda may not have as many ghouls, but we still have traditional wars and aspiring gods to contend with.”

  “Aspiring gods?”

  “Well, only one in my lifetime.”

  “Uh-huh. At any rate, there are likely a multitude of reasons for the differences between our worlds.” Looking at her watch, she next said, “Please, if you’re ready, pull the handle in six, five, four, three, two, one…”

  I pulled the weight, then stepped back to get the full four foot long chain out the hole. Being larger than the opening, the weight stayed on the other side. I initially held the load in place without great strain, but that started to change after a minute. My prana reinforced my muscles in waves for another couple. Throughout the following moments, my arm muscles shook, a few beads of warm sweat crept out of my brow, and slow inhales drew in extra air. My uncorrupted prana reserve was far from empty, but even an inexhaustible flow of spirit energy could not support flesh so stressed.

  Unable to continue short of a life and death reason, I stepped forward and let the handle settle where it belonged.

  As I bent and wobbled my overwrought arms, the doctor said, “Three minutes and twenty-two seconds. Impressive. If memory serves, that beats Xavier’s record by fifty-three seconds, and you appear to have leaner muscle than he does. No corruption, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “Just as one would expect from a dragon knight,” said Svren, who was peeking in the whole time.

  Continuing, the doctor asked, “How would you compare your uncorrupted prana to that of the average warrior in Orda?”

  “It’s not exceptional. I’ve only been able to hone it to what it is now thanks to my corruption and dragon getting me out of the worst situations. Though, to be honest, I have no idea how my prana compared to the average warrior before I was corrupted.”

 

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