Thursday 4 November 2010

Morning Star

Prologue

Captain Inver of the ‘The Serene’ made his way slowly across her deck, his head kept low to defend against the worst of the wind and spray. The combination stung the unprotected parts of his face, but his parka kept him mostly dry and his beard kept him warm. It wasn’t a particularly severe storm – he’d experienced far worse in his long career – but he still offered up a quick prayer. A single harrowing night at sea was enough to make any man god-fearing, and you quickly learned to be thankful for small mercies.

‘Hah, try telling that to that lot down below,’ he thought to himself, furrowing his brow. As shipmaster, he far too often found himself playing babysitter to the First Class passengers, obliged to listen to their petty squabbles. Whenever it got a little too hard to bear he made his excuses and escaped to the deck, secure in the knowledge that none would follow him out in this weather. Fortunately they were approaching their destination and would be off his ship within a few hours, though doubtless there’d be someone ready to complain about the night-time arrival. ‘Bunch of miserable whingers.’

These days, it seemed like everyone wanted to go to Armoroad. It’d long been a major commercial centre, but with the advent of intercontinental travel via ocean liners such as his it had become a dream destination for thousands of young people who flocked there in their droves, looking to make their fortune or find adventure.

The poor fools, he thought, shaking his head. Of course, the sad reality of it all was that precious few managed to find anything but trouble, with the vast majority falling prey to the many unscrupulous and unsavoury types eager to exploit them. With their funds dwindling, the desperate immigrants often found themselves with no recourse but to turn to crime, perpetuating the cycle. After all, who better to lure in an unsuspecting newcomer to the land than a native from his own country?

Inver stroked his chin through his beard. The Serene was a good sized vessel, capable of housing 1800 or so passengers; of that number a little under half would be in Third Class, perhaps with big ideas about returning in First someday. He shook his head again to dispel the thoughts. He’d not come out to dwell on things out of his control, after all.

He made his way towards the prow of his ship and gazed out ahead, watching as the lights of the city slowly came into view. Off in the distance a lighthouse shone, guiding his craft and any other ships around safely to berth. The waters around Armoroad were notoriously treacherous, with many an inexperienced navigator often coming a cropper on the myriad concealed rocks. The many caves surrounding the cliffs were also infamous for being home to a great many smugglers, who made up the other half of Armoroad’s seedy underbelly.

The sheer number of caves made effective policing impossible, which meant that they had free reign to wreak havoc on the prices of legitimate goods such as the ones in his hold. Even if they’d had the manpower, Armoroad’s criminal element was so entrenched and influential that any politician who wished to remain strongly supported tended to downplay the problem... but there he went again, thinking about problems that weren’t his own.

Little by little, the storm began to recede. Keeping one hand on the rail to steady himself, he reached down inside his parka’s inside pocket and after a few moments fumbling with the detritus inside, he withdrew his cigar case. It had been a gift from his son who’d joked that “It should stop mum from tossing them out!” Joke or not, it had done exactly that. Smiling at the memory he removed one of the metal cylinders it held, tipped a cigar out of it, then replaced it and the case inside the pocket. He handled the cigar delicately, running his fingers along the dark wrapper. It was beautifully hand-rolled, with long filler leaves and an exquisitely sweet blend. Each set cost a significant chunk of his pay packet, which was probably the real reason his wife was so against them. He glanced around furtively at the thought of her, then immediately chastised himself. It wasn’t as if she was around to–
“Oh dear Captain, sneaking a smoke? Your wife isn’t going to be very happy!”

Inver gave a start and turned round to see who’d spoken, visibly relaxing when he realised who it was.  The approaching figure was wearing a long dark coat with the collars turned up, hiding his face, but from the effortlessly confident way he carried himself Inver could tell it was Lucien Bale, one of his first class passengers. Ironically enough, the gentleman was actually the cause of many of his woes; much of the harassment he received from certain “influential” women was due to them asking after him so that they might introduce their daughters.

Inver didn’t hold it against the lad though – in fact, he’d quite taken a liking to him, chiefly because he seldom asked for anything and always laughed apologetically whenever the captain played messenger boy for him. He perpetually had a faint smile on his face, as if he didn’t really take the world too seriously. 

 “Yes, well, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her,” said Inver, grinning sheepishly around the cigar he’d popped into his mouth after cutting off the cap. It was true though; he carried a packet of mints expressly so she wouldn’t find out. “Anyways, you shouldn’t go around sneaking up on your elders like that lad, nearly gave me a heart attack.’
“Oh please, you’re twice as robust as anyone else on this boat – your lovely wife excepted of course.” Lucien pulled to a stop next to the captain, rubbed his hands together and blew on his fingers, then jammed them into his pockets. He leant casually against the rail, facing the interior of the ship. “To tell you the truth, I’ve grown a little bored of their company.” 

Inver nodded while trying to light a match. “Aye, I hear that. Bunch of ingrates, always going on about their trials and tribula – Damn it all, why won’t these blasted things LIGHT?” Inver flung the third unsuccessful match to the deck, eliciting a small chuckle from his companion.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he offered, rising. He flicked his wrist in an impossibly fluid motion too fast for Inver’s eyes to follow; at the end of it Lucien was holding out a lit match towards him. Inver bent his head forward gratefully, rotating the cigar to get an even burn.  He took a drag and exhaled through his nose, savouring the smell. A deeply satisfied smile spread across his face as he returned to his position looking towards Armoroad, resting his elbows lightly on the rail.
“Ah, that’s the ticket! Wife can’t stand the things, says they’re going to drive me into an early grave.”

Lucien shook the flame out and casually flicked the match out into the waves, then went back to his position next to the captain. “Even so, a man’s got to have a little fun in his life, eh? Another name for a man with no vices is a bore, I always say. ”
Inver nodded his assent. “Well said lad! S’no way for a man to act, sneaking around in these ungodly conditions trying to enjoy a decent smoke.” He took another deep pull and sighed happily. “Hell of a trick by the way, with the match. That one of those sulphur-coated ones you can strike anywhere?”
“Ah, something like that. Just a little parlour trick I picked up on my travels I suppose,” said Lucien.
 “This your first time visiting Armoroad then?”
“No, but I haven’t been in a very long time,” came the reply. Inver glanced over to his companion and chuckled inwardly; the young man couldn’t have been much older than 30. Still, he remembered how he’d perceived time when he’d been that young – every year had seemed an age.
“Well, odds are it’s not changed much since then.”
“Mmm, and I’ve found that people are much the same everywhere you go.”
“Hah, too right. You visiting family there?”
Lucien made a face. “I’m afraid I don’t really get on that well with my family,” he confessed. “They’re all rather too severe and devout for my tastes; we’ve had something of a falling out because of it.”

Inver could sympathise. ‘It’s been a while since I heard from Thomas, come to think of it. Perhaps I should write, see how he’s doing,’ he mused. Aloud, he said “That’s family for you. Still, nothing wrong with a bit of piety.”
Lucien laughed aloud at that. “That’s one thing I can safely say I’ve never taken to excess!”
“Well,” asked the captain, “if you’re not here to visit family, what brings you here?”
Lucien winked and gave a crooked smile. “Business and pleasure; what other reasons are there?”

The captain gave a hearty laugh at hearing the young man echo exactly what he had been musing earlier. It was comforting to have the assurance that at least one of the youngsters would be able to succeed. Just then the ship suddenly lurched to portside, almost jarring the cigar out of his hand and into the briny deep. Lucien regained his balance just as quickly as the captain, his impressive sea-legs lending credence to the fact that he travelled a lot.
“What the hell are those blithering idiots playing at?” growled Inver, upset at almost losing his cigar.
“Trouble at the bridge?” suggested Lucien. The captain frowned; he and his crew had made the journey dozens of times before and they were still too far out besides, but there was the chance that something unexpected could happen.
“Hrm, there might be. You’ll have to excuse me I’m afraid, best I check up on them.”
 “Of course, don’t let me keep you. I’d have had to head back down sooner or later anyway; I’d promised both Mrs Camersham and Madame Beaumont that I’d consider joining them and their families for dinner upon disembarking. With any luck they’ll have fought it out amongst themselves by now.” He pulled out a watch while saying this, making to check how long he’d been away. Inver had been making to head off, but stopped and gave a low whistle when he saw it, problems momentarily forgotten.
“Hell of a timepiece you got there, must have cost a bundle!”
“Oh, this thing?” asked Lucien, putting it back in his pocket almost carelessly. “It’s nothing special. I daresay you’d be able to get one as nice with some cigar money. Ones those fine must have cost you an arm and a leg.”
“Hah, don’t you go listening to everything my wife says! At any rate, I’ll leave you to your philandering. Try to wait a few hours before causing mayhem with the debutantes, eh?”

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything,” said Lucien, grinning wickedly. With that, he gave a cheerful over the shoulder wave and headed back towards the stairs leading down to the ship’s interior. The captain smiled – he could see why the dowagers were all so keen. ‘Still,’ he thought, while the he hurried off to see just what in the blazes his crew were doing, ‘I can’t say I’d trust him with any daughter of mine...’