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Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
Chapter 2 – Hop Topics
Chapter 3 – Twists of Fate
Chapter 4 – The Old Man
Chapter 5 – A Matter of Perspective
Chapter 6 – Storm Watch
Chapter 7 – Riders in the Sky
Chapter 8 – Changing of the Watch
Chapter 9 – The Jaws of Death
Chapter 10 – No Retreat
Chapter 11 – The Maze
Chapter 12 – Thief
Chapter 13 – Daily Bread
Chapter 14 – The Sound of Music
Chapter 15 – Disappearing Act
Chapter 16 – Life in the Clouds
Chapter 17 – Citizens
Chapter 18 – Seeing Red
Chapter 19 – Whispers in the Dark
Chapter 20 – Not on the Menu
Chapter 21 – Passages
Chapter 22 – For Whom the Bells Toll
Chapter 23 – Many Happy Reunions
Epilogue – Beyond the Blue Horizon
About the Author
Chapter 1 – No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
Askaro spooned the hot gruel in as fast as he could without burning his mouth. He’d seen clouds on the horizon on his way to breakfast and he wanted to have a little time before duty to study them. A loud shout from across the room distracted him. He looked up. Master Gilus was leading some of the new slaves into the mess hall. Their chains clanged as they stumbled forward.
Kelor moved to intercept them. “It’s about time. Breakfast is almost over.” He took the lead chain and led them to the benches across the narrow board from Askaro.
Master Gilus smacked one who tried to sit down before the others in the line. “Had no end of trouble with this lot. These Grasslanders have nothing but stuffing between their ears.”
Kelor got the bunch seated. He rapped on the board to get their attention. “You’re already on short time. Behave or you’ll go without.”
A slave across from Askaro huffed quietly. “Considering the slop they feed us, that might be better.” He pointed at Askaro’s bowl. “How can you stand to eat that?”
He finished his last spoonful. “It’s food.” Askaro got up.
Kelor chuckled. “I still says ship-born make the best slaves.” He patted Askaro on the shoulder and turned to the newcomers. “You should learn from those already here. This is a good life. You’re fed three times a day, you’re clothed, and you have a dry place to sleep. From what I saw of where you lived before, that’s a big improvement.”
Askaro waited for the crewman to finish speaking. “May I go now, sir?”
Kelor nodded and Askaro took his bowl to the bucket, washed it, and added it to the drying rack. He looked back as one kitchen slave set bowls on the board and another ladled the gruel into them. He had never really eaten much else in his life other than a few meals while on collecting parties or occasional things his mother passed to him quietly. He knew what was in the gruel because he’d worked in the kitchen when he was younger. It was just the scraps of what the crew and officers ate with congealed fat added. Slaves needed the extra energy. His mother told him that it was cooked down into a gruel so the fat mixed better.
Askaro peered into the galley but his mother wasn’t seated at the counter where she usually ate her breakfast. She must have finished early as well. She had talked about making rolls for the Master’s Mess while they walked to breakfast that morning. Maybe that’s where she was now.
He climbed several flights of stairs until he came out onto the main deck. The sun was just cresting the horizon. The yellow glow reflected downward from the massive dirigible over head. A stiff breeze ruffled the coarse fabric of his tunic. He tightened his belt. The deck was damp with morning dew but his bare feet were used to the cold dampness.
He moved to the starboard railing and scanned the clouds piling up on the northern horizon. He pulled in a deep breath, smelling the tang of the salty sea but also the sweeter touch of fresh water. The clouds held rain. He glanced down at the waves far below and could make out white caps of foam on their crests. The ocean was restless.
They were still on a westerly heading. He looked across the shrouds and noticed the men scrambling through the riggings, adding sail to take advantage of the wind from the north. He missed sail duty, especially when the weather was fine. He loved the feeling of freedom when he moved across the riggings. He stretched his fingers, preparing them for a duty shift with rope. The warning bell for watch change rang. The last thing he wanted to be was late. He turned and started walking toward the bow.
The sudden whirl of a pulley startled him. He followed the sound upward. The main course sail top rope was loose. He could see the end headed for the pulley attached high on the side of the dirigible almost 60 units above. Askaro jumped to the railing, gauged the distance of the moving rope, and launched toward the trailing end.
He focused on his hands reaching for the rope. The wind pushed against him but his aim was true. His fingers wrapped around the rope. He was less than an arm’s length from the pulley. Gravity pulled him downward. He felt the jerk of the rope as the slack hit the pulley. His arms strained against the sudden yank. His fingers slid on the rope. He tightened his grip.
Men shouted from the riggings. His weight and the angle of his leap carried him outward, away from the deck, and toward the main mast yard platform almost 40 units away. He could see the canvas rippling as his passage pulled tension into the sail.
Askaro adjusted his decent with a twist and landed on the platform. The heavy sail battled with him for control of the rope. Master Elvarian was calling orders and others came to join the fight. They got it temporarily belayed to a cleat until it could be hauled back to it’s proper place.
Askaro took a moment to breathe. The men around him, all slaves, were staring at him. Master Elvarian came down the riggings and called the others away. He put a hand on Askaro’s shoulder. “Get air back into you. Now let me see your hands.” Askaro held them up as directed. The Master let out a deep sigh. “No burns. That’s luck for sure.”
Yarnel, the second watch main starboard mast crewman, appeared next to him. He saluted the Master. “The watches have changed, sir.”
Master Elvarian looked up and waved to Master Soret who stood on the sky deck then patted Askaro on the back. “That was damn crazy, boy, but a good job none the less. Saved us all kinds of grief. We sure miss you up in the riggings. These boys just don’t have the knack that you do.”
Askaro watched the next duty shift taking their places on the ropes. “Thank you, sir, but with your permission, I do have to get to my duty station.”
A shrill whistle called their attention to the main deck. Master Bruvano stood there with his hands on his hips.
“Ass! Get over here now!”
Askaro gritted his teeth. Only Bruvano could get away with calling him that. He sighed. “I’d better go, sir.”
The Sails Master chuckled. “One of these days the Captain is going to catch him calling you that and he’ll be going to hell in a hand basket. Let’s go.”
Askaro jogged down the main mast toward the deck. He could hear the Master’s footsteps behind him. He got to the deck and stopped in front of Bruvano. “Reporting as ordered, sir.”
Master Bruvano scowled at him. “You’re late for your duty shift in the rope pit.”
Master Elvarian put a hand on Askaro’s shoulder. “Asko was otherwise detained. You may not have heard, but he saved the main course sail top rope.”
“I don’t give a rat’s balls what he was doing. He’s late for his duty shift.”
Askaro stared at the deck boards. He’d made a promise to his father to never let his temper get the better of him but he was challenged at the moment. He swallowed down his hatred of the Slave Master. “With your permission, sir, I’ll be on my way to my duty shift.”
“You have more freedom than you deserve. You should be locked up in the pens with the others.”
“Bru, that’s quite enough.” Master Elvarian’s voice was quiet but stern.
Bruvano’s face darkened. “Mind your own!” He grabbed Askaro by the shoulder. “Maybe a shift in a hot room will remind you how a slave is supposed to behave.”