Chapter 3
Cam climbed the ladder and emerged onto the deck. He walked over to the edge and peered out below. Chamonic hills stretched away as far as his eye could see. A stream of molten bronze cut its way through the countryside, glinting silver in the light.
He removed his helm and placed a hand on the railing looking out. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply. The high air was crisp and fresh, and helped put his mind at ease. He’d lived his six decades up in the clouds of course, but the air in the middle of a sky city and the air from the side of a frigate were two very different things.
Clean air went in, and some of his doubt went out. Gripping the railing tightly, he allowed himself a tight grin. He stood there a few more moments, letting the air cycle his thoughts and emotions.
“Enjoying the view?”
Camron looked over. Captain Bondson had joined him. The captain reached up and removed his helm, a slight hiss of pressure adjustment the only accompanying sound.
He turned to regard Camron. Camron realized that despite serving with and under the man for the better part of six days, this was the first that he’d seen his face.
The captain was clean cut, his beard neat and trimmed, short enough to be comfortably manageable in a helm but long enough to fit in with the conservative crowds of Barak-Torin. His hair was cut short and parted at the side. The captain had an easy smile, and a confidence in his gaze that was impossible to fake. There was an air about him that ensured everyone knew when he entered the room.
Camron clearly wasn’t on duty, but he also wanted to show some respect. He tilted his head towards the captain. “Captain.”
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”
“Yes it is sir.”
A breeze gusted caressed Cam’s face. Cam tugged on his beard gently. He wore his beard longer than the captain, but that was partly to seem older than he was. It was only recently that other duardin had stopped asking how old he was.
“It’s tough sometimes.”
“Sorry sir?”
“It’s tough sometimes. Learning the ropes. Fitting in.”
“Yes it is sir.”
He clapped Camron on the shoulder, an amiable smile on his face. “You’ll do just fine. After all, you’re your father’s son.”
Camron grunted but said nothing. His father was an innkeep. His father thought of profit like all other kharadron. Almost all other kharadron, he corrected himself. He was from Barak-Torin after all, where not everything revolved around profit, and not everyone worshiped it above all else. His grandfather hadn’t. Nor his grandfather’s friends. It was a somewhat progressive sky-city. By duardin standards at least. If the captain had told him he was his grandfather’s grandson, he would have felt better.
“Sir,” Camron said pointing, hoping to change the conversation. “There’s a storm on the horizon, dead ahead of us.”
“That there is marine.”
The storm was resolving itself on the horizon. It was huge - filling the sky from side to side and from the earth below to the realm’s edge above. The clouds were near black as pitch and lit up by lightning, far enough away that it seemed like stars smeared across the sky.
“Looks like a strong storm captain.”
“That it does marine.”
Silence stretched between them as Cam let the unspoken question hang there. Should he just ask it? A slight smile tugged at the captain’s face. Camron didn’t want to overstep his bounds. Even more annoying, he could tell the captain was enjoying this. As if he was testing Camron. But what was the right way forward? How to pass the test?
Cam’s heart thudded in his chest. He just didn’t understand this duardin.
“Thanks for the chat marine, I’ve got a ship to run.” Bondson turned to go.
Curiosity got the better of him. “Captain?”
“Yes?”
“Why are we heading straight for a storm of that size?”
“Simple. That’s where the realmgate to Ulgu is.”
And again the silence stretched.
He realized that he actually didn’t know the trading route they were on. Later he would reflect on that and realize it’s because he’d believed that good grundcorps didn’t care what route they were on. After a moment, the captain turned to go.
Camron cleared his throat.“Why are we going to Ulgu?”
“Marine, if you’re going to ask anyway, in future please ask right away and stop wasting our time.” He managed to say this with a smile on his face.
Camron stammered. Of all the responses, he hadn’t been expecting that. Camron had no doubt the captain was being serious, but he managed to say it in a way that didn’t make Camron feel like a dolt. At least, not too much of one.
“Sorry captain,” he said. “Why to Ulgu captain?”
“Why, to go to Barak-Mhornar of course.” And with that, the captain wheeled on his feet and walked away, not giving Camron a chance to ask another question.
Captain Bondson hollered at a nearby deckhand to scrub a little harder, that he couldn’t quite see his face in the reflected metal yet. Cam could hear the smile in the captain’s voice as he did so, and a quick glance over his shoulder told him that the deckhand hadn’t minded the comment at all. He was a good captain. It was almost infuriating. A scowl crept across Camron’s face.
And Barak-Mhornar? Why go there? Of all of the stories he’d heard in his father’s inn, and of all the travellers he’d met, all agreed that you didn’t trust a Barak-Mhornar Kharadron. And what was it doing in Ulgu? Camron had thought all sky-cities floated in Chamon where aether-gold was most plentiful. How did they get enough to keep the skycity afloat?
Camron growled at himself as thinking of aethergold and how much one needed got him thinking about profit.
His father… he would never badmouth an ancestor, but he was sorely tempted right now. Why would his father have put him on this ship to learn from this captain? He didn’t care to learn anything of profit, at least not anything more than he’d already learned. He wanted to learn of adventures. How to be a soldier. Maybe that was his father’s whole point.
Camron had grown up helping in his father’s tavern. He’d heard all sorts of stories. Stories of profit and loss, of trade deals struck and rare cargo found at a discount. But most of all, he’d heard stories of adventure - particularly from his grandfather.
Camron didn’t give a tin of beardoil for any of the profit or loss. That was why he’d signed up for the grundcorps. That was why he’d lied about his age to sign up. The only chapter of the Grundstock Corporation on Barak-Torin was the Burnished Silver chapter. They had been hiring but they had a 70 year age minimum. Unable to wait another decade, he’d lied about his age and enlisted. Unusually, the Burnished Silver Grundcorp didn’t just hire academy grads, they also hired promising recruits and allowed them to do mission placements as they attended the academy.
Camron’s was to start at the academy immediately upon their return. His service with the Rifleheads was a mission placement. A placement his father had arranged. Camron grunted. His gratitude had turned to annoyance all-round.
A commotion to starboard had him look over. A large cave was set into a mountain. Camron could see the green, gold, and red aether-lamps surrounding the cave, directing the ships where to fly. A khazak of some sky city.
Camron had never been in a khazak before, but he’d heard of them. A few rooms to billet. A few supplies - aethergold, munitions, and foodstuffs mostly, and a harbour to put port when needed. Meant to allow skyships to refuel and restock, if necessary. He grunted to himself. He couldn’t see a flag or rune on it identifying what skyport it belonged to. He would try to ask the captain about it if he found him. The only other person who might know that he knew well enough to ask was Sergeant Nesbred, and Grungni would take him before he asked her that. Before he showed the sergeant anything other than obedience and dedication. Good soldiers weren’t curious. He couldn’t afford to do anything that might drill a hole into the endrin of his grundcorp career before it had had a chance to sail.
He glanced down at his suit’s wrist chrono. It was out of fashion to have a built-in wrist chrono, but his grandfather had always had one. Sworn by it. Cam had always wanted one of his own.
And now he had one, and it was telling him he was already a minute late for his next shift. Sergeant Nesbred would be waiting for him.
His eyes widened as he scrambled to put him helm back on.
“Grungni’s unwashed garments.” He muttered to himself as he raced across the deck.
~~~
It was a few hours before they were in the storm. All mirth was gone now. Everything was battened down tight, including crew, and all hands were on deck. It wasn’t just the weather, there were creatures that lived in storms like these.
But more about storms like these later.
Because Grungni’s luck was with them. None of those creatures materialized and the ship weathered the storm well enough. They didn’t lose any crew overboard and the ship managed to avoid serious damage.
A few hours later and their readings started to pick up the realmgate. It was a massive black cloud, several times taller than the Wind's Oath and many times wider. Glowing light seemed to emanate from its core.
With rain lashing the deck, and lightning striking the ionized endrin and the lightning-rods, the Wind's Oath plunged into the cloud and through the realmgate.
And that was the first time that Camron went to Ulgu.
~ Go to Chapter four here.
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