“It has everything to do with him,” Rue Meridian cut in sharply. She gave him a slow, mocking smile. “What’s the matter, Black Beard? Have you grown old and timid?”
For just a moment, Walker thought the burly shipbuilder was going to explode. He stood there shaking with fury and frustration, his big hands knotted. “I wouldn’t let anyone else alive speak to me like that!” he hissed at her.
A knife appeared in her hand as if by magic. She flipped it in the air above her, caught it, and made it vanish in the blink of an eye. “You used to be a pretty fair pirate, Spanner Frew,” she prodded. “Wouldn’t you like the chance to be one again? How long since you’ve sailed the Blue Divide?”
“How long since you’ve ridden the back of the wind to a new land?” her brother added. “It would make you young again, Spanner. The Druid’s right. Come with us.”
Rue Meridian looked at Walker. “You’ll pay him, of course. The same as you’ll pay Big Red and me.”
She made it a statement of fact for him to affirm, and he did so with a nod. Spanner Frew looked from face to face in disbelief. “You’re committed to this, aren’t you?” he demanded of Walker.
The Druid nodded.
“Shades!” the shipbuilder breathed softly. Then abruptly he shrugged. “Well, let it lay for now. Let’s sit for breakfast and see how we feel when we have full stomachs. I could eat a horse, saddle and all. Hah!” he roared, pounding his midsection. “Come along, you bunch of thieves! Trying to drag an honest man off on a voyage to nowhere! Trying to make a poor shipbuilder think he might have something to offer a clutch of madmen and madder women! Spare me, I hope you’ve not picked my purse, as well!”
He wheeled back in the direction of the settlement, shouting out epithets and protests as he went, leaving them to follow after.
They ate breakfast in a communal dining hall assembled beneath a huge tent, the cooking fires and pots all set toward the back of the enclosure where they could vent, the tables and benches toward the front. Everything had a makeshift, knockdown look to it, and when Walker asked Spanner Frew how long the settlement had been there, the shipbuilder advised him that they moved at least every other year to protect themselves. They were Rovers in the old tradition, and the nature of their lives and business dealings involved a certain amount of risk and required at least a modicum of secrecy. They valued anonymity and mobility, even when they weren’t directly threatened by those who found them a nuisance or considered them enemies, and it made them feel more secure to shift periodically from one location to another. It wasn’t difficult, the big man explained. There were dozens of coves like this one located up and down the coast, and only the equally reclusive and discreet Wing Riders knew them as well.
As they dined, Spanner Frew explained that those who worked and lived here frequently brought their families, and that the settlement provided housing and food for all. The younger members of the family were trained in the shipbuilding crafts or pressed into service in related pursuits. All contributed to the welfare of the community, and all were sworn to secrecy concerning the settlement’s location and work. These were open secrets in the larger Rover community, but Rovers never revealed such things to outsiders unless first ascertaining that they were trustworthy. So it was that Walker would not have found Spanner Frew if Cicatrix had not first assured Redden Alt Mer of the Druid’s character.
“Otherwise, you would have been approached in March Brume and a business deal struck there,” the shipbuilder grunted around a mouthful of hash, “which, come to think of it, might have been just as well for me!”
Nevertheless, by the time breakfast was finished, Spanner Frew was talking as if he might be reconsidering his insistence on not going with Walker. He began cataloguing the supplies and equipment that would be required, advising as to where they might best be stored, mulling over the nature of the crew to be assembled, and weighing the role he might play as helmsman, a position he had mastered years earlier in his time at sea. He reassured Walker that Redden Alt Mer was the best airship Captain he knew and was the right choice for the journey. He said little about Rue Meridian, beyond commenting now and then on her enchanting looks and sharp tongue, but it was clear he believed brother and sister a formidable team. Walker said little, letting the garrulous shipbuilder carry the conversation, marking the looks that passed between the three, and taking mental notes on the way they interacted with one another.