Chapter 6
Camron sailed through the air, his arms and legs flailing. He’d been launched over the ship towards the great beyond.
He was going to miss the starboard rail.
Duardin were heavy folk. Made solid. Made to stand on solid rock. Not made to fly.
Fear coursed through him and he screamed, his voice echoing in his helm even above the sound of the storm. Just as he was passing the rail, his right hand caught one of the endrin cables and he grabbed tight. It felt like his arm was going to rip off his body, and it nearly did. He heard the pop even over his screaming as his shoulder came out of its socket. His scream went up an octave but he managed to hold on tight.
His body whipped around the endrin cable like a sling shot but he kept his grip. He slid down the cable and his ass landed on the solid metal deck. Camron nearly wept tears of joy, he was about to kiss the deck plating when he remembered why he had left his post in the first place.
The flight deck hovered right next to him. He sprang forward and grabbed the wheel and heaved. He screamed again as he tried to use his right arm. Arm dangling by his side, he ducked under the wheel and wedged his shoulder into one of the spokes. Then he strained with his back and legs, trying to stand up. He felt the tremors through the wheel as the captain and navigator heaved as well.
It felt like he was trying to move the mountain, and nothing was changing. Except for the mountain which was fast approaching. The ship wasn’t changing course.
Until all of a sudden it did. In what felt like a lifetime but was probably only seconds, his strength added to the others’ proved the difference, and the ship started to swing out, even against the storm.
The mountain loomed up ahead, so close now that it was visible even without a flash of lightning.
The three duardin strained against the wheel. Sweat ran down Camron’s face and dripped into his eye. His teeth gritted. They were almost there, but it was not quite enough. They were not going to make.
With a gigantic, wordless yell, the captain heaved one last time. A prayer to grungni felt, rather than heard, by the others.
The ship inched a few degrees more, and then the mountain was upon them.
A rocky outcrop claimed one of the flux capacitor rods, and then they were beyond and in the lee of the mountain.
Immediately the wind died down as the shelter of the mountain provided a bulwark against the worst of the gales.
The snap of the capacitor rod echoed in Camron’s head. In his mind’s eye that was the sound his neck would have made had they not turned the ship in time.
“Heave to port!” Captain Bondson yelled. Navigator Firebelly pulled on the wheel and Camron assisted with his good arm. Bondson let go as he moved to the flight controls, pulling a few levers and twisting a dial. The main endrin switched to reverse acceleration as the back endrin flared to port and the front one flared to starboard.
The Wind's Oath was pulled into a 180 degree turn as the stern swung out and around and soon they were facing the backside of the mountain, with the cave entrance lit with red, green, and gold aetherlights directly in front of them.
Bondson looked distinctly pleased as he placed his hands on his hips. “Take ‘er in Firebelly!” To Navigator Firebelly’s credit, and probably in appreciation of Camron’s help, she didn’t force Camron to let go of the wheel. Though Camron did let go as soon as he realized he wasn’t needed anymore.
Firebelly made a few minor adjustments as the ship coasted towards the entrance.
As soon as they entered the cave, the wind died considerably. They’d gone from being pounded by the wind from all six sides to only having some minor turbulence come from behind. With only one exit from the cave, the wind’s ferocity was severely blunted.
The Wind's Oath glided bumpily into the dock. Although the Captain looked like he was itching to grab the wheel back, he let Firebelly bring the ship in.
The cave itself was big enough to fit four Wind's Oaths prow to stern and still have a little space before the ship stuck out of the cave. There was probably room for a dozen ships in there, but they were no other ships. Just the Wind’s Oath.
A dock stretched the length of the back of the cave. On either side of the dock, a large sky cannon perched in a rotatable sconce.
Camron whistled. Two sky cannons could catch any onrushing ship in a crossfire. If they didn’t want the
He hadn’t had time to notice before, but Camron’s stomach was upside down. He was about to wretch but caught himself in time, the bile in his mouth giving lie to his image of unflappability, at least to himself. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. “Marines don’t get nauseous.” He whispered quietly to himself as he stood up straight.
Thankfully, with his helm on, nobody would have seen his expression. His face had probably been green. Camron glanced over at the captain, who was the picture of calm as he stood there and watched the docking process.
He looked back out the entrance of the cave. Outside the sky was dark with clouds, torn apart by lightning, and riven with charged metal pockets.
They glided close to the dock and several crew jumped out to secure her.
Yerdun came to check on him and Camron had the old marine jam Cam’s arm back into his shoulder stop. The pain, though intense, was mercifully brief.
Camron watched the crew work as Yerdun set his arm. He’d need nearly been launched over the side of the ship, thrown overboard on his first mission. “Grungni’s pants but that was close.”
Yerdun looked up. “Huh?”
“Nothing. Just remembering we need to tell the captain about the shapes in the storm.”
“Aye. Your arm is in. Let’s go talk to him.”
The captain was already at the gangplank and was chatting with the two duardin standing there. They were dressed in the midnight blue and beige of Barak-Mhornar.
The sergeant was approaching from aft. She reached Camron just before Camron reached the Captain. “Camron, Yerdun,” she began, “go…”
“Sergeant Nesbred,” Camron said, cutting in, “I have news for the Captain, I must share it with him.” He looked at the sergeant. Tried to imagine what she would say to this. “Sir,” he added belatedly.
“I…” the sergeant began before she was cut off again. This time by the Captain’s raised hand. He was negotiating with the Barak-Mhornar duardin, and Camron and Sergeant Nesbred were interrupting him.
Camron felt his cheeks colour within his helm. As much as he would have preferred a different captain, one focused less on profit, he would never want to get in between his captain and a business deal. He shut his mouth and tried to move slightly closer to hear the Captain’s discussion. He half wondered whether Nesbred would order him away, but he noticed that she had also moved closer to the captain.
“You ask what?” Captain Bondson demanded, his voice incredulous.
“Half your cargo, captain.” Said the taller of the two Barak-Mhornar duardin.
“That’s insane.”
“That’s market rate.”
“That’s not market, that’s extortion.”
The shorter Barak--Mhornar duardin shrugged. “The market is simply a matter of supply and demand. Right now we have the supply, and you have the demand.”
Captain Bondson stood there in silence and glared at the two duardin. Camron couldn’t see the Captain’s face under his helm, but he was sure the glare could have cut through a rusted endrin-bolt.
To his surprise, neither of the Barak-Mhornar duardin backed down.
“What about the code? What about not pissing off your clientele.”
“Nothing in the code forbids this. And you know as well as I do that people only use this route when they have to.” The tall one said.
Then the short one puffed out his chest. “And if you’re so pissed off right now, you’re welcome to go to any of our competitors.”
Camron could hear the smile in the Barak-Mhornar duardin’s voice. Cam’s fist clenched and he felt the distinct urge to step forward and punch this duardin in the face. Before Camron could step forward, the captain spoke.
“We only have one piece of cargo.”
The two duardin looked at one another, expressions unreadable under their masks.
“Well then, we’ll need to round up. We can’t be sheltering for free.”
“My taller friend Tungevin is correct,” said the shorter one. “Artycle 3.2.6 of the Code, charge thy worth for thy services.”
“You want our entire cargo?!” The captain practically threw his arms up in the air.
Camron saw sergeant Nesbred step forward, and against his better judgement he reached out and grabbed the sergeant’s arm. She looked down at the arm and back up at Camron. Camron dropped his hand with a conciliatory nod. She said nothing but didn’t move forward anymore.
“As you said, you only have one piece of cargo that cannot be split. That’s not our fault. And you’re not yet home. As long as your ship is in one piece, you can get more cargo before you return. At this point, would you rather have your ship but not your cargo? Or your cargo but not your ship?”
“Plus,” said Tungevin, “as my friend Embis here said, you’re welcome to brave that storm until you can find one of our competitors.”
A moment of silence fell. Camron chewed his lip as he tried to figure out how the Captain would get out of this one. The silence stretched out.
Camron grunted to himself as he wondered if this silence was intentional. If maybe the captain had found a way to drink his ale and have it too. The best deal for the Wind’s Oath would be if they never reached a deal but spent the whole storm negotiating. It seemed duplicitous and Camron would never have thought he would have been able to stomach that, but then again he never would have thought someone would demand an entire cargo just for safe harbour from a storm.
The Barak-Mhornar duardin looked at one another. The taller one tilted his head. It seemed like the weren’t going to let it get that far.
The shorter one spoke up. “Your answer please captain. We have things to do, and if you’re not going to stay we ask that you be on your way.”
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