Foundling (38 page)

Freckle
glamgorn bogle;
small, tough and friendly-seeming.

Frestonia
a small collection of
Soutland
states, the chief among these being the
city-state
of Frestony. They have formed their loose confederation in answer to the rising power of the inland states of Castoria, Pollux, Maine, Axis, Isidore and Haquetaine.

frigate
smallest of the dedicated fighting
rams
and the middle of the three rates of cruisers, usually of twenty or twenty-four
guns-broad
, with only
gun-drudges
being smaller. Nimble and fast, they are considered the “eyes of the fleet,” running messages and performing reconnaissance. Despite being the smallest
rams,
the largest frigate can be almost as long as a
drag-mauler
. These oversized frigates are called heavy-frigates, having up to thirty-two guns on one broadside.They are popular among pirates and privateers. See Appendix 6.

frock coat
coat normally worn by men, with a long hem reaching the knees and often flaring out jauntily. With more and more women seeking adventure, it has become fashionable for them to wear frock coats too, often more gorgeously decorated and trimmed, the hems flaring even more extravagantly than the male version. Frock coats for either sex are almost always
proofed
.

fulgar(s)
said “fool-garr,” also astrapecrith (“lightning-holder”); a
lahzar
whose surgically inserted organs (known as the systemis astraphecum) allow him or her to make, store and release immense charges of electricity. Fulgars have several tricks up their sleeves, which together are known as eclatics. These include:

Fulgars get their name from the artificial organ known as the Column of Fulgis, a jellylike muscle that produces the electrical charges they wield. Most fulgars mark themselves with the
spoor
of a diamond, which is the universally recognized sign of their kind. See
fuse
and related topics
, lahzar
and
thermistoring
.

fulgaris
said “fool-ger-riss”; two poles of differing lengths used by
fulgars
to extend their reach and give a
thermistor
control over bolts of lightning. The longer pole is the
fuse,
the shorter being the
stage
. Both fulgaris are wound tightly with copper or iron fulgurite wire and capped at each end with ferrules of the same metals.

Fundarum non Obliviscum
motto of
Madam Opera’s Estimable Marine Society for Foundling Boys and Girls,
writ large across the top of the main entrance; a
Tutin
phrase which means “found [but] not forgotten.” Very touching.

fuse
six- to twelve-foot pole of cane or wand-wood, tightly coiled along its entire length with copper wire and capped with copper, brass or iron fulgurite; the longer of the two
fulgaris
, the shorter being called the
stage
. A fuse extends the reach of
fulgars,
allowing them to deliver their deadly jolts while staying out of reach themselves. The second, and more bizarre, use for them is an aid in
thermistoring
—the calling down of lightning bolts from on high. This can normally be done only on overcast days, as clear weather does not provide the necessary conditions for the generation of lightning. The
fulgar
sets an arc in the fuse to “call down a bolt from the gray,” that is, to encourage a lightning strike. When the bolt hits, it travels down the fuse and into the
fulgar
and is either stored within (but only very temporarily, for risk of bursting asunder) or redirected through the hand or the
stage
, which gives greater control in determining the final direction of the
levin-bolt
. Fulgars who
thermistor
often do it at great risk to themselves, and are often called
thermistors
or thunderers. See
fulgar, fulgaris, lahzar, stage, thermistor.

Gainway, the ~
very old road and the main way between
Winstermill
and
High Vesting.
It continues farther north beyond
Winstermill,
heading far into
Sulk
and eventually finding its way to
Proud Sulking
. These days the southern stretch of the Gainway is often considered a part of the
Wormway
. As the Gainway approaches
High Vesting,
it becomes a beautiful broad avenue lined with tall ancient oaks and a marvel of the region in autumn, when people might travel just to see the red and golden glory.

Gallows Night
traditional night for many executions by hanging, prisoners being kept specially for then. A great public spectacle, it is not to the taste of some.

gander
slang for a
guise
, the smallest denomination of
money
in the
Soutlands
, and used mostly in
Brandenbrass
and its neighboring areas. A play on words:
guise
sounds just like “geese,” while gander is a male goose.

gastrine(s)
engines that turn the
screws
(propellers) of
rams
and other vessels. A gastrine is a big box of wood bound with metal, inside of which great musclelike organs (called gastorids) have been grown about a metal section of treadle-shaft (what we would call a “camshaft”) or shaft-section within the box. On the organ deck of a vessel these boxes are put in a row, their shaft-sections connected by great pins, making a whole treadle-shaft that runs the length of the vessel. Each line of gastrines (know as a “gastrine pull” or just a “pull,” which includes its accompanying
limbers
) is attached to a set of gears and great levers called a dog-box, which allows the
gastrineer
to determine the level of power of each pull and where it is used: all on one
screw
or two
screws,
or even three for the biggest
rams
and
cargoes
. The muscles of a gastrine are made by learned people known as viscautorists (“gut-growers”) especially for this purpose. They are raised inside each gastrine box from basic living matter, like a kind of senseless animal. Inside the box are many wooden protrusions called bones, onto which the muscles fix as anchor- and leverage-points. Once a gastrine is “fully grown,” the muscles inside and the whole box itself are one complete organ. To open the box is tantamount to surgery. In this fully grown state the gastrine is taken from the test-mills (“laboratory-factories”) to the dockyards to be lowered into the bowels of the receiving vessel. There its shaft-section is fixed to those of the gastrines on either side as each is integrated into the pull. When stimulated by their
limbers,
the gastrines’ muscles begin to move, gaining momentum until they work on their own to push and pull at the treadle-shaft, which turns the gears, which turn the
screw
and so moves the ship. Like ships themselves, gastrines are often referred to as “her” and “she.” Through special chutes and hatches a gastrine is fed a series of “meals” each day, comprising a nutritious, lumpy soup called pabulum. Beneath the pull is a sluice-way that allows the waste expelled from the gastrines by discrete pipes to wash down the middle of the vessel into the bilge to be pumped out into the sea.With all this pabulum soup and waste sloshing about, the organ deck can smell almost like a butcher’s shop. Nadderers (sea-
monsters
) love the taste of gastrines and are attracted by the slick of grime and effluent that trails in the wake of a gastrine-run vessel. A large part of a vessel’s crew is devoted to the care of the gastrines, their
limbers
and the pull they are a part of. In fact gastrines and the rest have precedence over the men serving them, being fed first and cared for first; without your gastrines the crew quickly becomes irrelevant. In the course of its working life a gastrine might die from disease, old age or from damage sustained in a fight or a storm. Sometimes when this happens, the gastrine seizes up, interfering or even stopping the movement of the
screw
. This is known as clearing, and when it occurs the
gastrineer’s
mates grab great axes hanging from the walls, chop into the side or top of the gastrine box and, up to their armpits in
ichor
, hack the stiffened muscles away from their part of the treadle-shaft to allow free movement of the
screw
again. As you would expect, this is to the ruin of the gastrine itself, which must be replaced as soon as possible. It is best to replace all the gastrines of a pull at once, but this is expensive both in money and time; it is far more usual for single gastrines to be replaced as needed. When this happens, the remaining gastrines behave sluggishly for a while. Some say it is because they are mourning the loss of a fellow. Others say this is daft. The longest a gastrine will live is about twenty years, if its life is easy and its work even and steady—like a
cromster
on the river
Humour
. A gastrine working in the pull of a vessel like a drag-mauler—speeding up, slowing down, stopping abruptly as something is rammed, enduring mountainous seas, taking shocks as the vessel is hit by
cannon
balls or assaulted by sea-
monsters
—such a gastrine will survive only about five years before needing to be replaced. There is almost no sound made by a working gastrine, more a silent
pound-pound-pound
that throbs right through a person’s body. When a gastrine vessel such as a
ram
passes you by, all you will hear is the hiss of the water parted by the bow and running down either broadside, and feel a faint throbbing in the air about. Just as a vessel under the power of sails is said to be “sailing,” so a vessel under the power of gastrines is said to be “treading,” the past tense being “trod.” When a vessel is at anchor, it will usually have its gastrines treading over slowly without the
screw
being engaged, keeping them ready for a quick start if a threat or startling news makes it necessary. See
gastrineer
and
limbers
.

gastrineer
petty officer on a vessel, of the same rank as a
boatswain
and in charge of the healthy running of the
gastrines
and
limbers
. On large vessels the gastrineer will have a sizable crew under his command, the most senior of these being the gastrineer’s mates, all working to make sure the
gastrines
are fed, healthy and working well. Even a half-decent gastrineer will be well aware of the strange quirks of his
gastrines
, even naming them, knowing for example that No. 3 is sluggish on extremely cold days, that “Lillith” (No. 6) is inclined to work too hard, making Nos. 5 and 7 lazy, and so on. He passes this knowledge on to his mates so that they might learn the ways of a
gastrine
pull and go on to serve their own vessels. A gastrineer earns about fifty to seventy
sous
a year, not including
prize money
.

gastriner
any vessel powered by
gastrines
.

gater
or gatekeeper; person who guards and watches a gate, allowing or refusing people thoroughfare.

Gates, Battle of the ~
considered the great battle of the current age, fought in
HIR
1395 (the last year of the Sceptic Dynasty) between the armies of the
Empire
, the Soutland
City-states
and the
Turkemen
. The battle forms part of a time known as the Dissolutia, where one dynasty fell and another rose to take its place. At the time the southern
city-states,
known as the
Soutlands,
had gained such power and relative independence that they formed a league, the Stately League, to petition the
Emperor
, Moribund Scepticus III, for greater say in the running of the
Empire
. This petition was denied and consequently the Stately League or Leaguesmen determined to gather a grande
army
, march the dangerous miles north and force a “yes” from the old stinker. Moribund Scepticus III caught wind of this and knew his own
army
of eighty thousand, though tough and experienced, was no match for the League’s
army
of several hundred thousand citizen-soldiers and mercenaries. So, as the
peers
and marshals and soldiers of the Stately League started on their great enterprise, the Sceptic
Emperor
called for help from the only source of sufficient strength, his great rival the Püshtän, the Lord of the Omdür and
Emperor
of the
Turkemen
. The
Turkeman Emperor
eagerly took the chance to aid his anxious cousin and rapidly mobilized a grande
army
of his own, conveniently camped on the northern border of the wildlands dividing the two powers. This duly arrived, ahead of the Leaguesarmy—as the Stately League forces were being called. With gratitude and rejoicing the terrified people of
Clementine
lowered the gates of the great bridges that guard the crossings of the
Marrow,
the mighty drain that protects the northern borders of the
Empire,
and let the
Turkemen
across. It was a great day for the Püshtän, for no
Turkeman army
had ever won across the
Marrow,
and now they were being invited like so many guests. No sooner had his soldiers completed the daylong crossing of the bridges (such was the size of his
army
) than they immediately stormed the outer walls and districts of
Clementine
and put the middle and inner city under siege. The battle raged all night in the suburbs and along the walls as
Turkemen
infantry and their horrifying bolbogis, giant
monsters
bred for war, wrestled from street to desperate street with the
Empire’s
elite regiments. Moribund Scepticus III had been betrayed. Heralds were sent by the dozen to the approaching Leaguesarmy, though only three made it through alive to tell them of the
Emperor’s
distress and the threat of defeat by the hated
Turkemen
. What had begun as an expedition of conquest had now become a quest of salvation, not just of the
Imperial Capital
but of all the Stately League held to be distinctly their own. Without rest the Leaguesarmy night-marched the final miles. By the dour, gray afternoon of the next day they were deploying their first battalions for assault upon the rear of the
Turkemen
force. With
Clementine
skillfully invested, the confident marshals of the Püshtän turned their attention to defending themselves against the arrival of the Leaguesarmy. Moribund Scepticus III, his family and attendants watched from the highest minarets as the two great
armies
faced each other across the field before
Clementine’s
famous gates. Both he and the
Turkemen
marshals below were amazed at the size of the Leaguesarmy. Almost half a million soldiers of the proud
Soutlands
had arrived, and before their trailing columns had even arrived upon the field, the Leaguesman marshals began the attack. The massive artillery parks of the
Turkemen
roared, sending hundreds of Leaguesmen to an immediate end. The terrible bolbogis were sent forth bellowing, barely restrained by their panicking
beast-handlers,
musket ball and
cannon
shot of the Leaguesarmy stopping only a meager few. Strutting proudly behind these
gudgeon
beasts came the
Turkeman
infantry—the heavy-armored ghirkis and musket-wielding infantis. To meet them strode two hundred thousand
haubardiers
and
troubardiers
, hundreds of
skolds
and
scourges
and with them a company of
lahzars,
only recently arrived in society and used for the first time in war. Wherever the
Turkemen
bolbogis were left unchallenged by
scourge
or
lahzar
they prevailed, destroying whole battalions of their enemy. But where they met a knot of
scourges
or a lone
lahzar
, there they ultimately met their end. The
Emperor
watched in horrified wonder as the first deadly bolts of lightning stuck down, summoned by the
fulgars,
startling everyone but the
fulgars
themselves. And though the
scourge Haroldus
is credited as the great hero of the day, it was these newcomers, the
fulgars,
who most quickly bested the bolbogis, while the
wits
dismayed whole companies of
Turkemen
under the agony of their frission.When the two
armies
were fully engaged, the
Emperor’s
survivors, who had remained quiet till then, stormed from sally ports with
Haroldus
at their head, besetting the besiegers and attacking the right flank of the
Turkeman army
. Surrounded, the hard-pressed
Turkemen
fought valiantly on. Their most mighty bolbogis, the
Slothog
, still stood and shattered one hundred men with every blow. The Leaguesarmy line began to falter where the
Slothog
raged. The few
lahzars
that remained were not near enough to help, the rest all gone to their dooms and with them all the
scourges
and any
skold
who could make a stand. Even as the right and center of the Leaguesarmy began to crush their enemy, the left was on the verge of crumbling. In the nick of time
Haroldus
and the
Clementine
elites struck home, rolling up the
Turkeman
right flank and driving them in on the center in a rout. Though the legend has it that the “great
skold
” challenged the
Slothog
alone, he was in fact supported by the doughty battalions of both
Clementine
and the Stately League. There, after a grisly struggle,
Haroldus
sent the
Slothog
to its doom, losing his own life in the process. But the deed was done and with the death of the
Slothog,
the Leaguesmen pushed forward and the
Turkemen
, their last gambit played and ruined, ran headlong into the ravine of the
Marrow
or fled into the wildlands that surround the capital, and few ever made it back to their homes or the smiles of loved ones. The
Empire
had won—or had it? The original order of business had not been settled, the League had not had its demands heard. Their marshals conferred with their ministers and their peers and offered parley to the
Emperor
if he would just hear them out. Here now was an opportunity for Moribund Scepticus III to save himself and his own dynasty, to share some of his power and remain on the three thrones. For no matter what reformations the Stately League would force, the
Empire
would survive. But, with his remnant
army
looking to him to be still strong in the flush of first victory, while the Leaguesarmy seemed exhausted, at an end, Moribund became obstinate. He was not going to be some lapdog to the states, bending and twisting to their whims: he was the
Emperor
Supreme, as his sires had been before him. He ordered his troops to the attack, shut the gates and went to the baths in a glow of false security.With surprise in their favor the
Emperor’s army
prevailed for a time, but as they pushed the Leaguesmen back, they encountered a third of the Leaguesarmy’s strength, including twenty battalions of
troubardiers
, held in reserve. With a rataplan of drums and the cry of war these reserves pressed into the fight, the Imperial
Army
breaking against them like so many waves. With their force on the brink of annihilation, the Imperial marshals quickly capitulated and their entire weary
army,
still forty thousand strong, were taken captive. They did not stay captive for very long. The next day, and unknown to the
Emperor,
a delegation did arrive at the tents of the lords and marshals of the Stately League. In its number were many disaffected and jealous ministers and
peers
who, either fed up with the flaccid corruption of their incumbent master or wishing to rule for power’s sake alone, had formed an uneasy alliance against their Imperial master. They received the complaints of their southern brothers and a compact was quickly made: if the Leaguesmen backed their cause and their candidate for a new dynasty, then their new
Emperor,
once safely installed, would make sure their needs were answered. Till all this was accomplished, the southerners would remain as
Clementine’s
and the new
Emperor’s
guard. Thinking he was loved by all his subjects, convinced of the unfailing loyalty of his ministers, Moribund Scepticus III sat secure in his inner palace, confident of the impregnability of
Clementine’s
ancient walls. Yet that very night, as the Leaguesmen upstarts were let tamely into the city, he was violently slain by agents of the new compact, and their chosen replacement, the conniving Menangës of the family
Haacobin
, thrust into his place. Moribund Scepticus III’s sons and daughters, granddaughters and grandsons, brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews and distant cousins too were arrested, to be either slaughtered, imprisoned in the deepest dungeons and so forgotten or sent into distant exile. Over two hundred people suffered or died that night, each one of them of the same family line. So began the reign of the
Haacobin
Dynasty. So ended the line of the Sceptics.