Prodigal Son 4
During the day Hiccup dressed himself in a loose tunic and baggy leggings under a set of nondescript brown robes. They were getting a little threadbare, but he could pass through the sweltering, dusty streets like any other resident. The flight leathers would attract attention, and were far too stuffy in any case. He kept himself busy during the hottest parts of the day, when Toothless dozed. The air was too sizzling hot, and the sky too clear to take the Dragon out in the daytime regardless.
Instead Hiccup amused himself by exploring Eskendereyya. The city had plenty to offer an inquisitive mind. There was the Library, of course, which he perused at will. There was the museum as well, the public gardens, the amphitheatre, the various mosques, churches, and temples. The City was rife with ancient ruins from earlier Greek and Egyptian eras, brought to their fates by war and changing times.
Today Hiccup's morning was spent at the Amphitheater. Prometheus Bound was being performed. A rather brutal Greek tragedy about the punishment exacted upon the titan who brought fire to Humanity. Hiccup felt a great deal of sympathy for Prometheus, and admiration for the Titan's steadfast defiance. Prometheus was truly a character who would rather die on his feet than live on his knees. Hiccup found that the titan's punishment was as undeserved as it was horrific. In the play, the titan had done so much for the human race, teaching them everything from metallurgy to medicine to mathematics. It was unfair that someone so devoted to the health and learning of others should be punished.
After the Amphitheatre, Hiccup browsed the markets for a little while. He bought some fruit at the same shop he'd stolen from the previous night. The shopkeeper was there, sporting a foul temper and, judging by his stiff walk, a bruised bottom. Hiccup didn't mind too much. The bolt the man had fired at them had passed within a yard of Toothless.
In the afternoons he worked at a Smithy in the Agora, the town square across the bay from the Pharos, the great lighthouse of Eskendereyya. Built entirely of limestone blocks with an oven at the top capable of throwing light a solid mile across the ocean, the lighthouse was the tallest structure in the world, but height had long ago ceased to impress Hiccup. He loved looking at it, though. It was a testament to the brilliance and ingenuity of Sostratus, its architect. It was also an important civic symbol for the citizens. Julius Caesar himself, when he had conquered the city, had cited it as an important strategic location. In his book (which Hiccup had studied and thoroughly enjoyed), he said that those who controlled it, controlled the harbor of Eskendereyya. And those who controlled the harbor, controlled the city.
It was visible from the window of the Smithy. The forge itself was a small place, yet bustling with activity. It was owned and operated by a Gaul named Yanick Erwan, a former slave whose owner had 'employed' him at a forge in Constantinople, the capital of the Byzantine Empire. He had worked there for thirty years and eventually escaped. He stowed away on the first ship headed south, and settled in Eskendereyya.
The man was harsh, but honest, and Hiccup got along quite well with him, even if they did drive each other crazy at times. He reminded Hiccup of Gobber, though Yanick was far narrower across the shoulders, and far less burly. He also was not missing any limbs.
Hiccup entered quietly through the back of the forge, and hung his robes on a nearby hook, trading them for a leather apron and thick gloves.
The Gaul was at the bellows, huffing and sweating in the intense heat. His body dipped as he pumped air into the forge. You're late again." He called out, catching sight of Hiccup. "You were due in at midday."
"Sorry. Had a late night."
"Up with a woman?" the wiry Gaul asked gruffly, pumping the enormous handle downwards. The coals flared a bright, vicious red, and heat billowed out from the forge's open door. An enormous puck of iron lay in there, growing red hot.
"Up with a book."
"And here I was all ready to forgive you. You need to get your priorities straight, Hiccup."
Hiccup glanced around the shop. "Where's Alan?"
The man's other apprentice was frequently absent.
"Dead grandmother." Yanick grunted.
"That'd be his third this year." Hiccup picked up a shovel and added more charcoal to the forge.
"Ha! And seventh total."
"Strange family, he has."
"Here, pump the bellows." Yanick handed his task off to Hiccup, who took it without complaint. He watched as the sinewy forgemaster circled around and used a pair of tongs to lift the hot chunk of metal out of the oven. He lay it down on his anvil and gave it a harsh pounding, drawing it out. Then he flipped it over and placed it back in the heat.
Technically Hiccup wasn't the man's apprentice. He had marketed himself more as a… consultant. There were plenty of mechanical problems to be solved in and around the city, many of them not just metallurgical in nature. It was a market Yanick wanted to break into, and he paid Hiccup a respectable sum to repair mechanical problems on his behalf. A week beforehand the young man had been sent out to fix a sluice gate in the city's canal. He had, in record time at a reasonable price. As a result, Yanick's Smithy was top in the running for a long-term contract with the city's public works committee.
Yet Hiccup knew his way around a forge. He had worked in Gobber's smithy since he was small, and during the quieter days he did more than his fair share helping Yanick and Alan as they crafted tools for the citizens of Eskendereyya. It had been a startling discovery for Hiccup, when he'd first started traveling. The smithy on Berk had crafted an incredibly disproportionate amount of weapons. Most Smithies in the rest of the world created far more tools than arms. The rest of the world, however, wasn't under constant threat of dragon attack.
"What is that going to be?" Hiccup called out as he pumped the bellows.
"A plow for Vasilis Argyris. He said his old one's got a nasty crack in it. Ain't going to last much longer." Squinting in the forge's light, Yanick grimaced down at his creation. "It's too soft, though."
"Add more charcoal." Hiccup suggested over the roaring flames. "It'll harden it a little."
"I was getting' there." The Gaul grumbled. He lumbered over to his coal pile and shoveled a few more into the fire. A few sparks flew out and lit upon his greying, gristly beard, promptly relighting themselves. He patted the fires out absentmindedly and kept watching the forge.
"So when are you gonna look into getting'a young lady, Hiccup? Can't spend all your time around books."
"Can't spend all your time in bed, either." Hiccup grunted, straining on the bellows, "Gets you lazy."
"You actually lain with one?"
"Not your business, Yanick."
The smith joined him and together they thrust the handle up and down. "A girl up north, then?" Yanick grinned, "I hear the Scandinavian women are all blondes."
Unwilling images of Astrid flitted across Hiccup's mind. He worked hard to suppress them; it wasn't worth the heartache. Or the headache. "Some are, some aren't."
They fell into five minutes of silence.
"What the hell are you always reading anyway?"
"History, philosophy, mathematics, geometry, architecture, astronomy, poetry…" with each word, Hiccup pumped the bellows rhythmically.
"Too much." Yanick shook his head. "It's too bloody much. All you need to know is right here in this forge, Hiccup. Ain't no point in reading."
"Want and need are two different things, Yanick."
"Maybe." For all his gruffness, there was an undertone of jealousy and admiration in the Gaul's questions. The man was capable of the basic computation required to run a business, but Hiccup knew his employer couldn't read at all.
"Do you want to learn how?"
Yanick shook his head sourly. "Past my time, I think. Can't teach an old dog new tricks, Hiccup. You can only watch him get slower."
"Aw, c'mon Yanick. You're not that old." Hiccup smirked, "Very dogged though."
"Smartmouth."
They worked for a good two hours, Hiccup rotating between the jobs of striking and pumping as required. In due course, a plow began to take shape. They were interrupted several times by various customers requiring everything from chains to nails to horseshoes. Yanick always headed to the front counter to assist them while Hiccup stayed back, working the bellows. Another half hour passed without incident.
Yanick and Hiccup worked in tandem, shaping the curve of the new plow and adding more heat where necessary. The forgemaster was called away once again, this time by an olive-skinned man with a goatee, a wrinkled face and a pale, sun-faded bandana. He would have been unremarkable were it not for two things.
The first was his familiarity with Yanick. The moment he spotted his customer, the Gaul beamed and let out a jubilated whoop. The man replied in kind, and the two shared an embrace over the counter, greeting each other as old friends would.
The second striking feature was the young woman following him. A slim, olive-skinned beauty with wide brown eyes and sweeping curls of dark hair. Her eyes found Hiccup's as the older man –her father, or so Hiccup hoped- was occupied with Yanick. As he met her gaze he smiled, his hands momentarily slipped off the bellows. The thick wooden handle rose to smack him in the face. He fell backwards, crying out in surprise and pain.
"What in God's name are you up to back there, Hiccup?" He barely heard Yanick's shout over the throbbing in his nose. He could feel warm blood beginning to flow down onto his upper lip. Half-blinded, he stumbled over to the bench and felt around for a rag, which he found in short order and clamped over his nose.
"Hiccup, get over here!" Yanick hollered.
The young Viking scrambled over to the counter, one hand pinching his nose. Lovely. What a wonderful introduction.
Yanick gave him an impatient, exasperated glare. "How many times have I told you never let go of the handle? Do that enough times and it'll turn you simple."
"Well at least then we'll be able to think on the same level." Hiccup shot back snidely, his voice muffled and nasal. Well… more nasal.
Yanick cuffed him smartly and turned back to the duo. The young woman was biting her lip, trying not to laugh. Her associate looked equally as amused. Hiccup noted the wheelbarrow they were toting behind them. They had moved it under the cloth canopy which served as a storefront, mostly to avoid the jostling crowds of people. The Barrow looked to be full of rope and broken mechanical devices. He raised his eyebrow, his interest piqued.
"This here's Anton Pandev." Yanick patted his friend on the shoulder. "And his daughter."
"Shahira Pandev" She thrust a hand forward, which Hiccup shook, well aware that his own hand was covered in soot. Hell, he was probably covered from head to toe. It came hand in hand with working in a forge. Sure enough, when she let go, her hand came away covered in black streaks. She didn't seem to mind, wiping it absentmindedly on her pant leg.
Hiccup addressed Yanick first. "How do you two know eachother?"
"This sea dog was the one who carried me south from Constantinople. It's thanks to him I have my freedom."
"We've heard a lot about you, Hiccup." Anton chortled merrily. "Yanick wrote to me not two months ago. Said a verified genius had waltzed right into his shop, looking for a job."
"I don't know if genius is the right word…" Hiccup said, shrugging. "I just fix things I guess."
"Wow." Yanick murmured. "Try not to oversell it. You'll drive the customers away." He turned to Anton, "He's pretty brilliant. Works hard, can fix damned near anything I hand him. When he shows up on time, that is."
"Hey, I've had no grandmother's funerals yet."
"Let's keep it that way."
"We hear you can fix everything. All kinds of things." Anton replied, still in that jovial tone.
"What's the problem, exactly?" Hiccup eyed the barrow.
"The problem, my boy, is Pirates. They keep trying to raid my boat and steal my catches. I've outrun them, but it's been close. And the last time…" he gestured down at the wheelbarrow.
Hiccup leaned over the broken pulley system. "Your rigging broke?"
"We need better tackle blocks." The woman said, moving up to stand beside her father. "I rub wax on them, and they've been treated with oils but they keep seizing up when we pressure them too much."
"And then they crack." Hiccup nodded, "I've seen the problem before."
"What we need is to get a message to Constantinople and tell them to kick the Saracen pirates off of Crete." Anton declared.
"Not bloody likely." Yanick said sourly. "They took Crete from us, remember? The Byzantine Empire is crumbling. Everyone knows it. Too many high-paid bureaucrats, not enough soldiers."
Hiccup took a moment to check his nose. It was still throbbing, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Anton was talking.
"Well something has to be done! They're raiding towns all along the coastline now. If those pirates get any further into the Mediterranean, they're going to be nosing around the Pharos Lighthouse!"
"Sorry to interrupt, but how did you get away last time?" Hiccup asked. "I mean, if your rigging broke…"
"We still had our jib sail." Anton said.
"And enough of a lead to get into the shallows." The girl added.
"It was Shahira's idea, actually." Anton laid a proud hand on his daughter's shoulder. "We had to dump our catch to lighten the boat, but it worked. The Saracen ships have a deeper draft than ours, and they don't know the waters. They got stuck!"
"And we got a clean getaway." Shahira added smugly.
"That's really smart." Hiccup said earnestly. She beamed.
"We still had to limp back to the harbor, though." Anton said. "My ship needs to be able to take more than she does right now. Fix my pulleys, boy. Make'em work like I want'em to."
"You shouldn't work them too hard." Hiccup warned. "Even if the pulleys can take more pressure, it doesn't mean the mast or the shrouds will take it."
"Don't worry, boy." Anton waved a hand. "I know my ship. Just solve the problem. You'll be paid handsomely. I can promise you that."
"It's half-price." Yanick said.
Hiccup gave him a confused look; it wasn't often the Gaul slashed prices. Yanick clarified. "That'd be your half, Hiccup. I'll do my part Pro Bono."
Anton grinned. "That'd be why I keep coming back to you, my friend."
Hiccup sighed and shook his head. "Alright then."
The sailor nodded in satisfaction. He bid Yanick farewell and strode into the crowd, headed towards the harbor. His daughter lingered a moment longer, and gave Hiccup a wave which he awkwardly returned. She headed out into the crowd after her father.
"Good man, that. Especially for a Macedonian." Yanick said thoughtfully. He crossed behind Hiccup and grabbed the barrow handles. "You know he found me stowed away on his boat and just gave me free passage? Helped me get set up here. Moment he found I'd escaped he did everything he could to help. Just didn't believe in slavery I guess."
"Sounds like a good man." Hiccup agreed thoughtfully, "I wonder if he'd pay me in fish…"
Yanick gave him an incredulous stare. "You are an odd one, Hiccup Haddock. C'mon, let's get this stuff into the shop."
I almost feel like I should separate this out into two stories. I'd rather not have any mood whiplash going on.
15/03/03- Changed 'Moor' to Saracen for consistency, and made a few small edits.