Episode XLII - An Heroic Couplet

            Ellis woke up slowly, groggily, to the sound of hammer and metal.  It wasn’t very loud, as hammering went, and it was the only sound he could hear, but it was sharp and incessant and it had punctuated his dreams – dreams of summer in Larksborough – with alarming precision.  He stretched, yawned, rubbed his eyes and then took a look around him.

            He was surprised, at first, to discover that he was not in his room in Larksborough, then further surprised, as his memories returned to him, that he was not even in his room in the Grand Chateau Von Spektr, number seven Tentacle Lane.  Instead he was in the basement laboratory, surrounded by the flickering light of Bunsen burners and that irritating sound.

            He sat up straight, noticing the small puddle of drool he had left on the bench where he had apparently fallen asleep, and turned his head to find the source of the noise.  It was the Former Baron, standing in a corner, leaning over a large sheet of brass, methodically hammering it into shape one blow at a time.  Aside from this the laboratory was empty.

            “Where is everyone?”  Ellis asked once he had located his tongue again.

            “What?  What?” the Former Baron replied, looking up in surprise and staring at the ceiling, as if Ellis’ voice had emanated from there.

            “I’m behind you.”

            “Oh, oh I see,” replied the Former Baron, turning on the spot to finally catch sight of the sleepy young man, “Oh, I see!  I didn’t know you were still here, Ellon, my boy.”

            “Where did everyone else go?”

            “To bed, I imagine, oh… quite some time ago, I think.”

            “And they left me here?”

            “Apparently.  As I said, I hadn’t noticed.”

            “Thanks for that.”

            “Let sleeping interlopers lie – that is what my Granny Hester always used to say – mind you she was talking about Shoggoths and the like and they were only sleeping because she had just peppered them with rock salt and herbs from her trusty blunderbuss, Viola, which I think is in the museum somewhere; I really must look it out again…”

            “I’m sure.  Well, maybe I should retire as well, then.”

            “Oh, yes, yes of course.  Lots of work to be getting on with tomorrow, eh?  Can’t do that on no sleep!  No, no, no!”

            Ellis started to get up.

            “Mind you, since you’re here and you’re awake, perhaps you can give me a hand with this.”

            Ellis’ shoulders slumped.  He stared bleary-eyed at the Former Baron for a moment which seemed to stretch on into minutes, and then he stepped forward, barely achieving a gait which would register above ‘shambling’.

            “That’s my boy!  Now, if you’d like to take hold of this end of the sheet and hold it steady – steady mind – then I can whack it more efficiently from this end and-”

            The Former Baron unleashed a rapid flurry of blows which shook the sheet of metal, and by extension Ellis’ weary arms, so violently that it almost seemed to blur.  And then as quickly as it had started the hammering stopped and the mad old Philosopher was staring down at his handiwork with a thinly veiled pride.  Ellis looked down at the curved piece of metal.  It resembled an upside-down bird’s beak.

            “What is it?” he asked.

            The Former Baron glanced at Ellis, then at the piece of metal, then at Ellis again and then his thin grin turned into a frown of uncertainty.

            “You’re right.  You’re right!  It’s worthless”  He slammed the hammer down on the piece and instantly bent it out of shape.  “Time to start over.”

            Ellis gazed at the crumpled piece of brass, shrugged, sighed and then turned towards the staircase.  It was definitely time to go to bed.  The Former Baron resumed his hammering and didn’t even notice as the youth climbed the stairs and slipped out into the hall.

            Upstairs, in the east wing, Ellis found that his bed was otherwise occupied by a lanky Gulliver wearing nothing but a pair of white boxer shorts with a skull and crossbones design in black upon them, lit by the fluctuating glow of the medallion.  Ellis tried not to laugh out loud at the sight until he remembered that he had a very similar item of underwear in a drawer in Larksborough.  He found a spot on the floor, stole the quilt which Gulliver apparently didn’t need anyway and was asleep again in moments.

            Most of the next couple of days passed in a similar, disjointed fashion.  If Ellis had felt that his first few days in Shadow had somehow lasted for months, then the days which followed were quite the opposite, filled as they were with much hard work and brief interludes in which he got to know some of the people he was working with a bit better.

            Felicity Barkcastle, Toby Pontificus and M. Marveille all arrived throughout the course of the next day and each was given a specific task by the Former Baron.  Miss Barkcastle turned out to be an excellent engineer, despite all appearances to the contrary and so she worked alongside Von Spektr and Rockspark on revising the plans and working out what materials would be needed.

M. Marveille was expert in tactics, logistics and iambic pentameter and so he began to work on plans to procure resources and, ultimately, to decide how they might best assault two pirate ships with whatever force they ended up with.  Siren stayed close to the diminutive tactician, lending both her nautical expertise and her experiences working alongside and against Harker Blake.

Toby, bearing descent from a Philosopher the Former Baron had greatly respected as his only qualification for being there, just helped out where he could, carrying books, hammering metal and making tea.  Ellis sympathised greatly with the youth.

In fact they were of a similar age and disposition and, when they were between jobs, found they had a great deal in common for two young men of completely different worlds.  Ellis found their conversations very enlightening and Toby helped him to learn a great deal about the world he now inhabited.  He looked forward to such moments immensely.  Unfortunately, Gulliver usually accompanied them.  He had sent out messages to the remnant of the crew of the Ebony Crest, but the replies he had got back had made it clear that none of them would be able to meet for at least a week and, until then, Gulliver just didn’t know what to do with himself.  Occasionally he was summoned to the laboratory for some further investigation or utilisation of his medallion, but otherwise he spent much of his time impersonating a spare part, lingering in the background and caressing that trinket as if he expected it to give him the knowledge and understanding required to make him useful.

Ellis realised that he was gradually finding the lanky pirate’s presence to be something of a nuisance, especially when he caught him staring after Siren with a look of unsuppressed longing.  Gulliver also had a tendency to view every situation in the most negative way possible and any time Ellis suggested some course of action, it would be Gulliver who would be first to mention some possible flaw, however minor.  The more time they spent together – a lot, since they continued the unfortunate room-sharing arrangement – the more it seemed they were both growing to hate each other.

If Siren noted this sudden enmity between her two friends, she showed no signs of it, but then Ellis hardly saw her, as she spent so much time in the dining room with M. Marveille, occasionally disappearing into the basement to check up on some detail of the planning and manufacture stages.  Any chance Ellis did have to speak to her was relished, but usually marred by the presence of Gulliver, or of Toby.

So it was, then, that on the evening of the third night since they had begun the operation (which the Former Baron had apparently codenamed ‘Shoalstrike’, to judge by some of his hurried mutterings), he deliberately waited up until Toby had gone home and Gulliver had retired to bed – as the gloomy pirate never did seem to be able to stay awake much past ten o’clock.  He knew that Siren and M. Marveille were still working busily in the dining room, so he entered cautiously, found a seat and sat and listened.

“I sink it best we approach from ze flank,

For we none of us want to be walking ze plank.”

M. Marveille was pointing at a sketch map of the harbour, his chubby little hands prodding vigorously at some feature which Ellis couldn’t quite make out.

“But there is no obvious way to flank someone in open water, not whilst taking them by surprise, anyway,” Siren replied.  She sounded tired, exasperated even.

“It depends on the place which we choose for our fight

And whether we start in ze day, or ze night.”

“I agree with that, but where could we attack but the harbour or the open ocean?”

“A ruse could be used to lure zem away

To a place of our choosing.  A trap we could lay.”

“So how do we create such a ruse?  Do we need to make sure extra units are created just for that purpose?  Can we possibly have the materials for that?”

“I will sink on such sings srough ze course of ze night,

Getting plenty of sleep often ‘elps wiz such sight.”

The diminutive tactician hopped down from the stool he was using and walked over to where he had dropped his hat, scarf and cloak sometime that morning.  He nodded to Ellis as he passed before vanishing out into the hall.

“What was that all about?”  Ellis asked as Siren rolled the map up and took a seat opposite.

“M. Marveille is good with tactics, there’s no denying it, but he’s not used to working a campaign at sea and I don’t think he’s ever dealt with machines like the ones Frank, Felicity and Rockspark are working on.  Every day is a struggle to overcome new obstacles.  This is about our fifteenth plan in five days.  It’s wearying.”

“All that rhyming can’t be helping much, either, I suppose.”

Siren cracked a smile, “Ugh, tell me about it!  I’ve noticed he never uses my name at the end of a sentence.”

“You should try making him talk about something purple, then,” he added with a laugh.

“Or maybe a silver plinth, with an orange on it.”

“You have oranges in Shadow?”

Siren nodded and laughed again.  “It’s good to talk to you again, Ellis.  It’s been funny us not having the time just to chat this week.”

“Yeah,” he replied, trying not to sound too wistful.

“”What have you been up to anyway?”

“Oh, just helping out where we can, picking up materials, holding pieces of paper, getting in the way.  It never feels like a very valuable contribution, but it takes forever.”

“I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”

“I just wish…” he trailed off, suddenly uncertain about what he was about to say.

“What?”

“I don’t know.  The stuff we were doing before.  It was terrifying and wild and probably completely nuts, but it felt different than this.  I’ve spent more time in Shadow now as a gopher than anything else and it just doesn’t feel quite right.  Plus I’ve got Gulliver hanging around all the time.”

“He’s harmless.  Don’t worry about him.  As for this week?  Planning and preparation has to happen sometime, right?  But once we get my ship things will get back to normal.”

“And what is normal?”

“You tell me?  What would you want to do with a sailing ship in a strange land?”

Ellis eyes lit up, “Do you mean – we could go exploring?”

“If you wanted to.”

“What did you plan to do?”

“I don’t know.  I’ve been without the Ebony Crest for so long now that it’s hard to tell how I’ll react when I get her back, but I’m sure I’ll want to go sailing as soon as possible.  I miss the wind in her sails.”

“I’ll go with you, then.  No doubt about it.”

Siren gave him her warmest smile, but then her expression darkened, “But then… what about finding you a way home?”

Ellis felt his heart sink, “Can’t we do that on a ship?”

“Franck’s your best bet, I’m sure.”

“Then he can come with us!”

“Can you imagine Franck at sea?  I certainly can’t.”

Ellis sighed.

“Don’t worry about it, Ellis.  I’m sure we’ll work something out once we get the Crest back.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway,” Siren said, suppressing a yawn and stretching her arms, “I should really go to bed.  It’s another long day of planning and poetry tomorrow.”

“Yeah.  I should go too.  If I get to sleep now I might be able to avoid the worst of Gulliver’s snoring.  I’ll walk up with you.”

Together they left the dining room and made their way up to the landing.  Siren’s room was to the right, Ellis’ to the left.  They stood there for a moment, in the gloomy twilight of the unlit stairwell, staring at each other.

Ellis surprised himself by making the first move.  He leaned, caressed her cheek with his hand and let his lips brush hers.  His heart was suddenly beating madly, trying to burst from his chest and, for a moment, in the stillness of that landing, he thought she was going to pull back.  She did not.

It was the best kiss he had ever had.

Minutes or hours later, he wasn’t sure, Ellis took a breath, opened his eyes and saw that Siren was staring back at him, a look of uncertainty on her face.

“That was incredible,” he said, unable to believe that what he had been secretly dreaming about had just happened for real and yet desperate to fill a silence which was no longer quite so inviting.

There was a flash of something in her eyes – anger maybe? – and then she turned on the spot and vanished into her room.

Ellis staggered backwards in the direction of his own room and the growing snores of his pirate roommate as he wondered,  Did I do it wrong, somehow?  She seemed so into it and then…  He couldn’t finished that sentence.  He didn’t know how.

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