The Iron Ship (41 page)

“No-o-o,” choked out Halvok.

“Please yield.”

Halvok managed to smile. “No sir.”

He sank to his knees, the strength going from his arms. He attempted one last throw, trying to flip Rel over his head, but Rel would not be shifted. The Torosan went onto all fours, his chest heaving for breath. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he pitched forward, unconscious. Rel choked him still.

The crowd cheered. Zhinsky held his hands up for silence.

“Very good! Very good! Let us stop now, we do not want to kill him.”

“How do I know he is not shamming?” said Rel, but released the giant anyway. He staggered away, leaning with his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

Zhinsky toed the Torosan with his boot. “He is not shamming.” He looked at Rel, calculating his strength anew. “He will have a very sore neck when he wakes up. You will have to buy him a beer. It is only right.”

“I will.”

“He drinks it by the bucket.”

“I had anticipated that,” panted Rel.

Rel handed his sword back to the arming boy and retrieved his jacket. He winced as he moved. He was going to be bruised all over.

“Well, little merchant boy. I think I stop calling you ‘little’ now,” said the major.

“And the ‘merchant boy’ part?”

Zhinsky’s eyes narrowed. “We see about that. Perhaps when, one day, you beat me.”

Zhinsky held up a hand. His sword was brought for him. He swished it through the air. Zhinsky beckoned at Rel. For the second time, the boy returned his sword.

Rel groaned. He never beat Zhinsky.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Trassan and Katriona

A MOST TERRIBLE ACCIDENT

AT VAND SHIPYARD

An accident, yesterday, Homeday 33rd Frozmer, devastated the latest venture of Arkadian Vand, renowned engineer and industrialist, to create the world’s first successful ocean-going ship of iron. An investors’ tour ended in spectacular disaster when one of the vessel’s three glimmer fuelled steam engines suffered catastrophic failure resulting in immediate and terrifying detonation, the report of which was heard as far away as Mogawn-On-Land, over twelve miles from the centre of Karsa City. Your correspondent was present for the calamity, involving more than fifty of Karsa City’s wealthiest citizens, chosen by Vand to view the final testing of the revolutionary engine as potential backers for the finalisation of the construction. Fortunately, none of the worthies present were harmed in the explosion; however, six employees of Arkadian Vand were killed, and several more horribly injured.

K
ATRIONA READ ON.
There then followed a description of the
Prince Alfra
, and the preamble to the tour. Trassan’s words were quoted. There was conjecture as to the relationship between Trassan and Vand and Vand’s daughter. The tone was scurrilous and distasteful in its gloating, thought Katriona. She made a note to change paper.

As was reported by your correspondent in the 27th Leffall edition of this very paper, Arkadian Vand and his protégé Trassan Kressind are constructing the
Prince Alfra
in order to cross the Southern Ocean—with all its perils of ice, and notwithstanding the jeopardisation of the long-standing treaty between the merchants of this nation and the Drowned King—facts that they were withholding from the goodfellows who had put their capital into the project initially in good faith. The public inquiry into the merit of awarding a Licence Undefined to the vessel and its owners, so allowing it free passage across all oceans, continues on, despite the announcement of renowned Maceriyan industrialist and engineer Vardeuche Persin that he intended to race with Goodfellow Vand’s enterprise to the Sotherwinter shortly after the revelation of the expedition’s intended destination, a purportedly intact Morfaan city crammed with the wonders of bygone ages. Despite the obvious benefit to the national interest of Karsa, there are increasingly loud calls from some that all construction efforts on the
Prince Alfra
be ordered to halt to await the outcome of the inquiry. Questions have been raised as to the safety.

Katriona stopped reading. She looked at page four again. Holdean had failed to hold his tongue. Today was not a good day to be a Kressind.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said.

“Begging your pardon, goodlady, your eleven o’clock appointment is here.”

“Show him in, Hollivar.”

“You may go in now,” she heard Hollivar say.

A moment later Trassan came in. He shut the door quietly behind him.

“Old Demion’s got you working for him, has he?” said Trassan.

“Something like that. Do take a seat, brother. Will you take tea?”

“No thank you,” he said. Trassan was wearing his formal engineer’s garb. It was exceedingly smart, the buttons and badges of it polished to a bright shine. But he looked haggard and woebegone, and consequently the overall effect was one of shabbiness. He sat down.

“I have been reading the paper.”

Trassan picked it up. Fury flickered over his face.

“It’s a bit of a fucking coincidence, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“Faulty glimmer rods the day of the demonstration. The only reasonable conclusion is that I’ve been sabotaged.”

“Persin,” said Katriona, tapping at the man’s name in the paper.

“Persin. Probably. Who knows? Could be anyone. Vand doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends. And now he’s absolutely livid with me. I’ve got my magister on it, but he insists the glamours on the ship are all intact. It has to be an inside job, but who?” Trassan flung the paper down. “‘An engine of my own devising’. My own words accuse me from the page.” He took his hat off and rubbed his scalp.

“If you look on page four, brother, you will see that I am also featured.”

Trassan picked up the paper again, flipped through. He skimmed the article.

“Holdean Morthrock,” said Katriona. “He had been stealing from the company for some time. I had hoped to keep it quiet. I will of course have to have him arrested now.”

“It seems we are both in a bit of bother.”

“Father will be so pleased.”

They smiled shamefacedly.

“Perhaps we can help each other, then. Family should stick together,” said Trassan.

“Quite. But how?”

“I want Morthrock to come in with me. The problem with the engine is not a problem with the design. Goodman Banruthen was distraught, let me tell you.” Trassan leaned back and plucked a model steam engine from a shelf of many such by the desk. He placed it on the desk and began to fiddle with it. “No, the problem is with the fuel rods. The majority worked as intended. The explosion was caused by two inferior rods, and this despite assurances of quality from Kollis and Son, my contractors.”

“A deliberate flaw?”

“I reckon so, sis, but I can’t prove it. And it might not have been them, someone else could have got to them or switched the rods. Who knows? Either way, they are worthless as a supplier to me.”

“You will be suing them?”

“I
am
suing them. But that does not provide me with a replacement supplier. And I was thinking on that, and it so happens I have a Tyn in my employ, by the name of Gelven. He told me to come to the Mothrocksey Tyn, as their realm is that of iron.”

“In conjunction with water, yes,” said Katriona.

“He said something about that.”

“The fortunes of this mill are built on both,” she said. “Oh do sit still, Trassan! You are an inveterate fiddler. You will break it.”

“Sorry.” Trassan put down the model. “Well then. I have designs, as you will have read,” he said bitterly, “that utilise a new form of glimmer rod, one that incorporates iron. It boils water. Your little goblins should be fucking perfect.”

“You want me to manufacture it for you,” she said. She raised her eyebrows. “Well.”

“Are you sure we should not include Demion in this conversation? Shouldn’t he be involved from the start? This is important to me. And it will be a big contract. It would be better if I discussed it with him first-hand.”

“Men of business will not deal with a woman of business. That is why my husband’s name stands prominent over all things. However, dear brother, if you wish to buy our services, it is with me you must negotiate. Not him.”

She wondered, was this what her father had felt like? This small avalanche of triumphs as he exercised his power. It was a fine feeling.

“Wait...” Trassan looked about dumbfounded. “This is
your
office sis? You
run
the company?”

“It was the office of Demion’s father’s chief-of-staff. I have taken it for my own use.”

“Now that is something! Congratulations!”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it! You always were the smartest. Who’d have thought it would be old Demion who was smart enough to see it, and let you have your head.”

“He is not letting me have my head, brother,” she said levelly.

“Right. You’re not going to take old Morthrock’s room? Or Demion’s’?”

“Demion’s office remains his, when he chooses to come to the mill. I admit that is not often, but still. And to take old Morthrock’s place?” she shuddered. “Ghoulish, and presumptuous. But I reiterate, it is me you must deal with. I am in charge.”

Trassan watched her carefully. “Be careful, dear sister, that your new power does not go to your head.”

“Now we have got that out of the way, let us talk more freely. The inquiry into whether you should be granted a Licence Undefined has not yet concluded.”

“This is true.”

“This accident will not help your cause.”

“Of course not!” He swiped at Katriona’s paper. “It’s all in there.”

“Are you going to the Sotherwinter whether you get it or not?”

Trassan looked shifty. “If I can’t trust you, who can I trust? Yes, I am going to the Southern Ocean. That is the primary purpose of the
Prince Alfra
. It is the only vessel that could possibly make the voyage.”

“The other ships of iron all sank.”

“The riverboats of the Olb work perfectly.”

“The ocean is not a river. You are taking a grave risk.”

Trassan sighed. “I am, but not how you think. This ship will function. Besides, I do not have time. Persin will get there before me if I am not quick. I can brook no more delay.”

“Do you really believe this city still exists?”

“Vand had a seeing. That was in the paper too, back when we were flavour of the month.”

“Seeings are unreliable.”

“Our magister is reliable.”

“I am sure he is. Still, brother—”

“My captain,” said Trassan, his voice rising in volume and pitch as he interrupted his sister. “He knows someone who has seen it. A long time ago, and at distance, but this sailor has seen it, and it still stands. Naturally, this was all dismissed as the ravings of a lunatic. The poor fellow had been adrift for quite some time, but we know better. The problem is, that it will not be long before everyone else knows. Time is running out.”

“I see. That’s all very exciting, Trassan, if it is true. But you have been explicitly told not to go there. The paper says there are calls for you to stop.”

“I have not been told to stop.” Trassan leaned back. “In any case, the creation of fuel is preparation. And if you choose to manufacture rods to my design, and test them in an engine similar to the one we will use aboard the
Prince Alfra
, then what concern is that of mine? My partners are under no such ban.”

“I see.”

“Will you do it?

Katriona rearranged the items on her desk, moving the model well out of Trassan’s reach before she answered him. “I will consider it. First of all, how are you going to pay for all this?”

“You will not stand me the favour? This could make us all wealthy beyond the dreams of the Old Maceriyans!”

“I cannot afford to perform charitable duty for anyone, let alone family. We have a liquidity problem ourselves. I need money now. Your venture is in some trouble. If I am seen to back a project already under scrutiny then it will make my own investors nervous. Especially with these revelations so kindly provided to the broadsheets by Holdean. I cannot commit to an expensive and dangerous process on the promise of wealth unheard of dreamed up by a mad sailor, and an Ishmalan at that.”

The mill’s whistles blew, signalling a change of shift. The endless rumble of engines quieted. Doors opened outside, disgorging the workforce. The hubbub of voices penetrated the windows.

“Have you thought of asking father?” she asked. “You were always his favourite.”

Trassan grimaced. “That’s not true. He tests me heavily.”

“That is because you are his favourite. There is no rancour to what I say, brother. I love you dearly. I simply state the truth. He has you in mind for an heir.”

“He would never lend me a penny.”

“You do not deny it?” she pressed.

“‘A man has to make his own way in this life. When I’m dead, you might have my wealth my boy. Not before!’” He mimicked him perfectly. “Now imagine what he might say if he learned the money was passing to you to spend playing industrialist, instead of sitting at home like a good wife.”

“I am not playing, Trassan. I am in deadly earnest.”

“I don’t doubt it, but he would not see it that way, and he’d be furious with both of us.”

“More importantly, he would recall the loan.” Katriona bit her lip. “Is there no more money to be had from Vand?”

“He is trying to keep his distance,” said Trassan. “He is due to make an announcement soon on his work in Maceriya. He poses as an investor and advisor. He won’t back the whole project. He is wealthy, but his purse is not bottomless. And he and I have our own disputes.”

“Go on.”

“He is fond of appropriating my ideas as his own.”

Katriona tapped the desk with her outstretched fingers. “A fine mess. How much do you need?”

“To finish? That depends on how much
you
need. But I’d say three hundred thousand thalers. Then there are legal costs, for the inquiry and the ongoing case against Kollis and Son. I should imagine I’ll get that back, but it might take years.”