“Why a ship?” The chamberlain thought it wise to change the subject. “Why risk it? The people on Volkaran would tear you apart if they discovered it. Wouldn’t a dragon suit your needs just as well?”
“Dragons tire. You have to rest them, feed them. They can be wounded, take sick, drop dead. Then there’s always the chance the enchantment will slip and you’re left either fending off the beast, or arguing with it, or soothing its hysterics. With this ship, the magic lasts a cycle. If it gets hit, I get it repaired. With this ship, I’m always in control.”
“And that’s what counts, isn’t it?” said Alfred, but he said it well under his breath.
The chamberlain needn’t have bothered. Hugh’s attention was completely absorbed in his ship. Passing underneath it, he carefully and closely inspected every single part of it from head to tail (prow to stern). Bane trotted along behind, asking questions with every breath.
“What does that cable do? Why? What makes it work? Why don’t we hurry up and take off? What are you doing?”
“Because, Your Highness, if we discovered something broken up there”—Hugh pointed at the sky—“it would be of no use fixing it.”
“Why?”
“Because we’d be dead.”
Bane subsided for a second or two, then began again. “What’s its name? I can’t read the letters. Dra . . . Dragon ...”
“Dragon Wing.”
“How big is it?”
“Fifty feet.” Hugh peered up at the dragonskin covering the hull. The blue-black scales glistened with rainbow colors when the sun struck them. Walking beneath them, the length and breadth of the keel, Hugh satisfied himself that no scales were missing.
Coming around to the front, Bane practically tripping at his heels, he gazed intently at two large crystal panes set into what would be the dragon’s breast. These panes, designed to look like the breastplates of a dragon’s armor, were, in reality, windows. Hugh, seeing scratches across one, frowned. A branch must have fallen and struck it.
“What’s behind those?” asked Bane, noting Hugh studying them intently.
“The steerage. That’s where the pilot sits.”
“Can I go in there? Will you teach me to fly?”
“It takes months and months of study to learn to fly, Your Highness,” responded Alfred, seeing that Hugh was too busy to reply. “Not only that, but the pilot has to be physically strong in order to operate the wings.”
“Months?” Bane appeared disappointed. “But what’s there to learn? You just get up there and”—he waved a hand—“fly.”
“You have to know how to get where you’re going, Your Highness,” said the chamberlain. “In deepsky, so I’ve been told, there are no landmarks, very few points of reference. It is sometimes difficult to tell up from down. You must know how to use the navigational equipment on board, as well as being familiar with the skyroutes and the airlanes—”
“That stuff’s not hard to learn. I’ll teach you,” said Hugh, seeing the child’s face fall.
Bane brightened. Twitching the feather amulet back and forth, he skipped along after Hugh, who was walking the full length of the hull, examining the seams where metal and bone had melded to the epso[12] keel. There were no cracks. Hugh would have been surprised to find any. He was a skilled and careful pilot. He’d seen, firsthand, what happened to those who weren’t, to those who didn’t take care of their ships.
He moved on to the stern. The hull arched gracefully upward, forming the afterdeck. A single dragon’s wing—the ship’s rudder—hung from the back of the hull. Cables attached to the end of the rudder swung limply in the wind. Grasping the rope. Hugh swung his legs onto the bottom rib of the rudder. Hand over hand, he climbed up the cable.
“Let me come! Please!” On the ground below, Bane jumped for the cable, flapping his arms as though he might fly up without help.
“No, Your Highness!” said a pale-faced Alfred, grasping the prince by the shoulder and firmly holding on to him. “We’ll be going up there all too soon, as it is. Let Sir Hugh get on with his work.”
“All right,” said Bane with cheerful good grace. “Say, Alfred, why don’t we go looking for some berries to take with us?”
“Berries, Your Highness?” said Alfred, in some astonishment. “What kind of berries?”
“Just . . . berries. To eat with supper. I know they grow in woods like this. Drogle told me.” The child’s blue eyes were wide open—as they tended to be when he was proposing something; the blue irises glinted in the midday sun. His hand toyed with the feather amulet.
“A stableboy is hardly a fit companion for Your Highness,” Alfred remonstrated. He cast a glance at the tempting stretches of cable, tied to the trees within easy reach and seemingly just made to be climbed by small boys.
“Very well, Your Highness, I will take you searching for berries.”
“Don’t wander far,” warned Hugh’s voice above them. “Don’t worry, sir,” returned Alfred in hollow tones. The two traipsed off into the woods—the chamberlain sliding down into ravines and careening off trees, the boy dashing into thickets and losing himself among the heavy undergrowth. “Berries,” muttered the Hand.
Thankful they were gone, he concentrated on his ship. Grabbing hold of the deck railing, he pulled himself up and over onto the upper deck. Open planking—one plank placed about every three feet—made walking possible, but not simple. Hugh was used to it and stepped from plank to plank, making a mental note not to let the clumsy Alfred up here. Below the planks ran what appeared to the landlubber’s eye to be an overwhelming and confusing number of control cables. Lying down flat on the deck, Hugh inspected the ropes for fraying and wear.
He took his time. Rushing this job might mean a snapped wing cable and resultant loss of control. Soon after he’d completed his task, Bane and Alfred returned. From the sound of the boy’s excited chatter, Hugh gathered that the berry picking had been successful.
“Can we come up now?” Bane shouted.
Hugh kicked at a pile of rope lying on the deck with his foot. It tumbled over the side, forming a rope ladder that dangled down almost to the ground. The child swarmed up it eagerly. Alfred cast it one terrified glance and announced his intention of remaining below to guard the packs.
“This is wonderful!” said Bane, tumbling over the rail and nearly falling between the planks. Hugh fished him out.
“Stay here and don’t move,” the Hand ordered, planting the boy against the bulwarks.
Bane leaned over the rail, looking at the hull. “What’s that long piece of wood down there do—? Oh, I know! Those are the wings, aren’t they?” he cried in high-pitched excitement.
“That’s the mast,” explained Hugh, eyeing it critically. “There’s two of them, attached to the mainmast there”—he pointed—“at the forecastle.”
“Are they like dragon’s wings? Do they flap up and down?”
“No, Your Highness. They’re more like a bat’s wings when they’re extended. It’s the magic that keeps it afloat. Stand over that way a little more. I’m going to release the mast. You’ll see.”
The mast swiveled outward, pulling the dragon’s wing with it. Hauling on the cable, Hugh didn’t allow it to swing out too far for that would activate the magic and they’d take off prematurely. He released the mast on the port side, made certain the center mast that extended the length of the ship—cradled in its support frame—was free to rise properly and that everything functioned smoothly. Then he looked over the side.
“Alfred, I’m going to lower a rope for the packs. Tie them on securely. When you’re finished with that, cast off the mooring cables. The ship will rise slightly, but don’t worry. It won’t take off unless the side wings are extended and the center wing is raised. When all the cables have been cut loose, then you come up.”
“Up that!” Alfred gazed, horrified, at the rope ladder swaying in the breeze.
12
trees grow in the forests of Aristagon and several of the islands in the Tribus Marches and may reach heights of over three hundred feet. The trees are similar to hargast in that they are of the metallic/organic class of plant life, taking the natural minerals from the soil and using a chemothermal process for their growth. They differ from hargast in that they are supple and their trunks grow straight and round, with a hollow core. This makes them ideal for airship construction.