The shipbuilder gestured expansively at the shore behind them. “I can’t leave all these projects half completed! They need my skills here! There are others just as competent who can go in my place!”
“Leave them,” Walker said calmly. “If they are as competent as you, let them complete your work here.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between them until they were almost touching. Spanner Frew, his face flushed and scowling, held his ground. “I haven’t told this to many, but I will tell it to you. What we go to do is more important than anything you will ever do here. What is required of those who do go is a courage and strength of will and heart that few possess. I think you are one. Don’t disappoint me. Don’t refuse me out of hand. Give some thought to what I’m saying before you make up your mind.”
There was a momentary silence. Then Redden Alt Mer cleared his throat. “That sounds fair, Spanner.”
The shipbuilder wheeled on him. “I don’t care a whit what you think is fair or not, Big Red! This has nothing to do with you!”
“It has everything to do with him,” Rue Meridian cut in sharply. She gave him a slow, mocking smile. “What’s the matter, Black Beard? Have you grown old and timid?”
For just a moment, Walker thought the burly shipbuilder was going to explode. He stood there shaking with fury and frustration, his big hands knotted. “I wouldn’t let anyone else alive speak to me like that!” he hissed at her.
A knife appeared in her hand as if by magic. She flipped it in the air above her, caught it, and made it vanish in the blink of an eye. “You used to be a pretty fair pirate, Spanner Frew,” she prodded. “Wouldn’t you like the chance to be one again? How long since you’ve sailed the Blue Divide?”
“How long since you’ve ridden the back of the wind to a new land?” her brother added. “It would make you young again, Spanner. The Druid’s right. Come with us.”
Rue Meridian looked at Walker. “You’ll pay him, of course. The same as you’ll pay Big Red and me.”
She made it a statement of fact for him to affirm, and he did so with a nod. Spanner Frew looked from face to face in disbelief. “You’re committed to this, aren’t you?” he demanded of Walker.
The Druid nodded.
“Shades!” the shipbuilder breathed softly. Then abruptly he shrugged. “Well, let it lay for now. Let’s sit for breakfast and see how we feel when we have full stomachs. I could eat a horse, saddle and all. Hah!” he roared, pounding his midsection. “Come along, you bunch of thieves! Trying to drag an honest man off on a voyage to nowhere! Trying to make a poor shipbuilder think he might have something to offer a clutch of madmen and madder women! Spare me, I hope you’ve not picked my purse, as well!”
He wheeled back in the direction of the settlement, shouting out epithets and protests as he went, leaving them to follow after.
They ate breakfast in a communal dining hall assembled beneath a huge tent, the cooking fires and pots all set toward the back of the enclosure where they could vent, the tables and benches toward the front. Everything had a makeshift, knockdown look to it, and when Walker asked Spanner Frew how long the settlement had been there, the shipbuilder advised him that they moved at least every other year to protect themselves. They were Rovers in the old tradition, and the nature of their lives and business dealings involved a certain amount of risk and required at least a modicum of secrecy. They valued anonymity and mobility, even when they weren’t directly threatened by those who found them a nuisance or considered them enemies, and it made them feel more secure to shift periodically from one location to another. It wasn’t difficult, the big man explained. There were dozens of coves like this one located up and down the coast, and only the equally reclusive and discreet Wing Riders knew them as well.
As they dined, Spanner Frew explained that those who worked and lived here frequently brought their families, and that the settlement provided housing and food for all. The younger members of the family were trained in the shipbuilding crafts or pressed into service in related pursuits. All contributed to the welfare of the community, and all were sworn to secrecy concerning the settlement’s location and work. These were open secrets in the larger Rover community, but Rovers never revealed such things to outsiders unless first ascertaining that they were trustworthy. So it was that Walker would not have found Spanner Frew if Cicatrix had not first assured Redden Alt Mer of the Druid’s character.
“Otherwise, you would have been approached in March Brume and a business deal struck there,” the shipbuilder grunted around a mouthful of hash, “which, come to think of it, might have been just as well for me!”
Nevertheless, by the time breakfast was finished, Spanner Frew was talking as if he might be reconsidering his insistence on not going with Walker. He began cataloguing the supplies and equipment that would be required, advising as to where they might best be stored, mulling over the nature of the crew to be assembled, and weighing the role he might play as helmsman, a position he had mastered years earlier in his time at sea. He reassured Walker that Redden Alt Mer was the best airship Captain he knew and was the right choice for the journey. He said little about Rue Meridian, beyond commenting now and then on her enchanting looks and sharp tongue, but it was clear he believed brother and sister a formidable team. Walker said little, letting the garrulous shipbuilder carry the conversation, marking the looks that passed between the three, and taking mental notes on the way they interacted with one another.
“One thing I want understood from the beginning,” Redden Alt Mer said at one point, addressing the Druid directly. “If we agree to accept you as expedition leader, you must agree in turn that as Captain I command aboard ship. All decisions regarding the operation of the vessel and the safety of the crew and passengers while in flight will be mine.”
Neither Rue Meridian nor Spanner Frew showed any inclination to disagree. After a moment’s consideration, Walker nodded, as well.
“In all things,” he corrected gently, “save matters of destination and rate of progress. In those, you must give way to me. Where we go and how fast we get there is my province alone.”
“Save where you endanger us, perhaps unknowingly,” the other declared with a smile, unwilling to back down completely. “Then, you must heed my advice.”
“Then,” Walker replied, “we will talk.”
They rowed out to the ship afterwards, and Spanner Frew walked them from bow to stern, explaining how she was constructed and what she could do. Walker studied closely the ship’s configuration, from fighting ports to pilothouse, noting everything, asking questions when it was necessary, growing steadily more confident of the ship’s ability to do what was needed. But already he was reassessing the amount of space he had determined would be available for use, realizing that more would be needed for weapons and supplies than he had anticipated. Consequently, he would have to scale down the number of expedition members. The crew was already pared down to a bare minimum, even with the addition of Spanner Frew. That meant he would have to reduce his complement of fighting men. The Elves would not like that, but there was no help for it. Forty men were too many. At best, they could take thirty-five, and even that would be crowding the living space.
He discussed this at length with the Rovers, trying to find a way to make better use of the available space. Redden Alt Mer said the crew could sleep above decks in hammocks strung between masts and railings, and Spanner Frew suggested they could reduce their supplies and equipment if they were willing to chance that foraging in the course of their travels would produce what was needed in the way of replacements. It was a balancing act, an educated guessing game at determining what would suffice, but Walker was somewhat reassured by the fact that they would have the aid of Wing Riders for foraging purposes and so could afford to take chances they might otherwise never have considered.