“Shh,” Sukina said. Although there was no sight or sound of an airship, we were worried that Cini might have set some patrolling without propellers and lighting.
“But I’m hungry, thirsty, and my bottom feels like I’m sitting on an iron maiden.”
“Faso, you designed this armour,” I pointed out. “Why didn’t you put cushioning on?”
“Safety was my paramount concern at the time, not comfort. I kind of expected you’d factor plenty of breaks into our trips.”
I shook my head. “Faso, we’ll land when we get to the Five Hamlets. The more you complain the longer it’s going to be.”
Admittedly, I just wanted to get home as soon as possible. For all I knew Cini might have had an execution lined up for my parents.
“Suit yourself,” Faso said. “But don’t expect me to be able to walk easily tomorrow.” Which stopped him talking for the rest of the trip, but it didn’t stop him groaning every time we hit a bit of turbulence.
Admittedly, I did find it a little cramped in the seat as well. The way Faso had installed it, I had to push my knees up to my chest, and I missed the feeling of my legs dangling off the sides, able to stretch them out whenever I pleased.
Eventually, we reached the Five Hamlets. I felt Velos want to let out a roar, and instinctively, a soft song came out of my mouth to calm him. I knew why Velos had felt a little angst. Usually, the Five Hamlets had a little charm about it. They kept oil lanterns lit in the streets, so that we could see the stucco on the walls and the cobblestones on the street as we came in to land.
But this night, no one had bothered to light the lanterns at all. All the better for us, I thought, since it decreased the chances anyone would see us approach. Something rustled behind me and I heard Sukina taking a swig from hipflask. “Automatons. Just because we can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see us.”
“Your blend helps you see in the dark?” Faso asked. “Why, I wish I’d thought of that…”
“Here,” Sukina said. “Ladies first.” She pushed something cold into my hip. I took the flask and took a sip from it. The night ghosted into a speckled green, the buildings of the Five Hamlets visible in a way I’d never seen them before. At the same time, energy coursed through my veins and all the stiffness left my muscles.
“This is good stuff,” I said.
“Fortress Gerhaun’s blend,” Sukina said. “It will improve your strength and agility amongst other things.”
I passed the flask back to Sukina. Behind me, Faso was reaching down towards the spigot.
“Faso, no!” I said and he looked up at me, even though I doubt he could see me. Fortunately, I’d managed to stop him in time. “If Velos is glowing green, we’ll be spotted in an instant.”
He crossed his arms and sat back in his seat, then took the flask off Sukina and knocked back a swig. I wiped off a bead of sweat off my forehead.
We followed the coast, then I veered Velos inland a little to sweep past the town hall. If I saw it was unguarded, then I would break right in with Velos to rescue my parents immediately. But two mean looking lithe automatons were scanning the horizon rhythmically from the entrance. I swept Velos upwards before we entered one of their lines-of-sight.
We flew over Papo’s vineyard then. I tried to make out if anything had been saved from amidst the rubble, but I could only make out outlines, even with my augmented eyes. If I dared get a little closer, I might have seen more, but I had no idea what Cini had posted there.
In the distance, to the north, a faint glow rose up from the horizon. Faso’s workshop, no doubt.
“We should set up in the forest,” Sukina said and so I cast off to the northeast for a while. Velos picked up a little speed just before I brought him in to land. He couldn’t quite see what I could see, and quite a few times I had to steer him away from crashing into pine trees.
Pumped up on secicao oil, there was no way we’d be getting any sleep that night. And it was so dark, that it was a perfect time to act. We left Velos there between the trees. I sang a song to calm him and reassure him that we’d be back soon. Honestly, I’d got the hang of these songs pretty quickly. But then, it seems, I’d known how to sing them all my life.
Velos understood perfectly his need to be quiet. So, he put his head against the ground, to stay low. But I knew that he didn’t intend to sleep. Instead, he’d keep watch and fly in to rescue us at first sign of any danger. I could rely on him for that.
20
Once we’d left the forest, Sukina put up a hand to halt us and she scanned the village using a pair of binoculars. We’d taken another dose of Sukina’s secicao oil, which meant I could still see everything in speckled green. We waited a while to give Sukina a chance to survey the scene. Faso also had a little eyepiece, that he also used to keep track of what was going on. Ratter stood guard on his shoulder in case anything came close.
Sukina turned to me and handed me the binoculars.
“I’ve been watching out for troops or automatons,” Sukina said. “But I’ve seen nothing nearby. I would have thought Cini would post a sentry here.”
I shook my head. “He’s expecting us to break into the holding cell, so he’s probably posted all of his forces there.”
“Most likely,” Sukina said.
Faso stirred and groaned. He bolted upright, immediately looked at his pocket watch. Sukina waved a bread roll at him, and he walked over and snatched it. “Now I’m here, I need to get some things I left behind here.” Then he dashed off in the direction of his workshop.
“There’s no stopping that fool sometimes,” Sukina said.
“I guess not.” I looked over at Velos who was also still fast asleep. “Do you think Velos will be okay here?”
“As safe a place as any. Besides, he’s a big boy who knows how to fight for himself.”
True that. And those ugly Gatling guns on his sides would at least offer extra protection. We’d left the armour running so Velos could activate the guns himself, and also so he didn’t fall asleep.
“We should probably start rescuing my parents.”
“Via your farm, of course,” Sukina said. “We might find some indication there of what we’re up against. But I’d understand if you wouldn’t want to go.”
And see my farm ruined, of course I didn’t want to go. “It’s okay,” I said. “I mean, some things are better done than not done.”
“Indeed.”
We moved towards Papo’s vineyard. The ground was a little soft underfoot, as if it had rained a couple of days ago. It took a good twenty minutes before I saw the ruined wall of my parents’ farmhouse.
A hole had been blown into the stonework and you could see right into my parents’ bedroom. That would have destroyed the painting created and handed down by my great, great grandmother, which would have made my parents furious. I felt my stomach lurch and I retched but didn’t vomit. My heart was beating heavy inside my chest and my legs became weak all of sudden.
Sukina put a hand on my back and supported me. Then we moved forward. I saw my cottage, completely reduced to rubble, looking just as it had in the photo, and probably worse. A cold breeze crept through the blackened charred vines, rows of destruction leading towards Old Drani.
I stepped closer to see torn bookshelves; every single book had been burned. Sukina Sako reduced to ashes. The sofa that I’d love to sit on and read a mess of torn cloth and scattered foam.
The place had been torn apart as if Cini wanted me to see his cruelty… wanted me to suffer for what we had done at Fraw. It was almost as if he’d known about me being a dragonseer all along. And now, he wanted to display to me the cost of changing sides.
One thing was for sure: the king had changed his stance and wanted to display to the public he could be just as ruthless as his father.
“He will pay,” I said.
“You’ll have your chance,” Sukina said and we heard a voice coming from behind, male. I turned sharply to see Faso running down the path. “
They left me nothing,” he said once he’d arrived. “All the secicao fuel salvaged. Every single automaton ripped apart from the joints, rendered irreparable. Cini stole my technology and the worst insult is this. He left me nothing.”
He looked up at me. I was in tears. “Oh, I see your place got shook up pretty bad as well, huh?”
“Would you shut up, Faso, for wellies sake. No one cares about your stupid technology. My parents built a life here, so much hard work put into these vineyards. And now…”
Faso crossed his arms. “So, you understand how I feel, then?”
“No, I don’t understand how you bloody feel.” I wanted to punch him again, but Ratter was perched precariously on his shoulder looking menacingly at me and I didn’t want to get sedated. “My parents are in danger for wellies sake, Faso.”
Faso puffed some air out of his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he said, like a rebellious schoolboy who’d just been told to apologize.
I sighed. “I guess we’ve both lost something important to us.”
Sukina walked over. She held something in her hand, a thin piece of an automaton, a shoulder guard perhaps, torn off with thin brass pipes running through its cross section. The thing glowed green. “I guess that’s what we’re up against. It must have got caught in the crossfire.”
Faso looked at it, biting his lip.
“We should get going,” I said. “Faso, if you know anyway to disable these things, now would be a good time to say.”
“I designed the engines, for the dragonheats, but the device around it could be assembled in millions of different ways.”
“Then to the town hall,” Sukina said. “Maybe, Faso, you’ll work something out.”
He huffed and crossed his arms. “If the opportunity arises, I’ll let you know.”
We augmented before we set off towards the town hall. Again, after a little discussion, we decided Sukina’s blend of secicao seemed the best idea. The extra strength, agility and ability to see in the dark seemed handy against these automatons.
The wind lifted the dust off the ground and blew the smoke from the chimneys eastward. I raised the collar of my neck to keep out the chill. We’d expected to see at least guards posted on the narrow streets, but these were strangely deserted.
We did see a couple of Cini’s red-coated guards when we passed the airfield however, standing on the only airship stationed there and smoking their secicao pipes. They didn’t seem particularly on alert, sitting on deck and playing poker.
“It doesn’t look like Cini’s brought a large force here either,” I pointed out.
“Chances are, we got here so quickly that he’s not managed to send an adequate force here yet,” Sukina said. “To be honest, I doubt Cini realised we’d react so fast.”
This made a lot of sense. But how exactly had Cini enforced this curfew with so few troops? “There must have been something he threatened the village with.”
“Maybe,” Sukina said.
We were just about in sight of the town hall, visible through a thick mist that had just developed, when a door opened to our side. We jumped startled, and both Sukina and I drew our pistols.
But we saw only the ruddy face of the mayor, his eyes expressing surprise behind his wide glasses. “Pontopa, Miss Sako… It’s just me.” He looked over his shoulder. “Please, you must come in at once.”
He opened the door just a crack so I could squeeze through. I started to move forwards before Sukina put a hand on a shoulder to still me. “How do we know it’s not a trap?”
“Trust me,” I said. “I’ve known Mayor Sandorini for years. He’s been like an uncle to me. If it was a trap, I would have seen it on his face.” I squeezed inside then beckoned Sukina and Faso onwards.
“You sure?” Faso said. He kept scanning the street from left to right with a sense of urgency, as if part of him wanted to get inside as well.
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Good enough for me,” Faso said, and he followed suit.
Sukina shrugged and entered behind him. We all huddled into the narrow hallway. This wasn’t in fact the mayor’s house – he lived in the town hall.
“Where’s your son and wife?” I asked the mayor.
“Upstairs sleeping. But naturally, I’ve had bouts of insomnia lately.” He closed the door behind us and then adjusted the glasses on his face. “Pontopa, I’m glad you’re safe. Is it true what they said – that you murdered an officer at Fraw?”
“I can’t remember actually killing anyone,” I said. Although I had no idea what had happened to those guards after Sukina had knocked them out. “We did what we needed to get Sukina out of there.”
“Quite rightly too,” the mayor said. “The king putting us under martial law is out of line.”
“But there are no troops on the street,” I said. “How come you’re not planning your escape?”
“Because our homes are here, and the curfew is only at night time. We’re free to go about our duties during the day. But now, there’s sniper automatons posted in the hills that can kill from two hundred yards. I’m surprised you made it in alive.”
“Me too,” Sukina said. “This makes me wonder if it’s really as dangerous out there as the king let on. Mayor Sandorini, did anyone dare test the king’s threats?”
“King Cini has cut off all means of communication within the village. As far as I know, no one’s dared go outside.”
I peered down the corridor to see that the windows here were boarded up. The whole place was lit by one of the same oil lamps which was used to light the streets, now flickering from its perch on a stool. “Well, I see now why none of you have just opened the window and just looked down the road. But how did you know we were coming?”
He took hold of a device that stuck out from the door. He gave it a twist, then pulled it out of its hole. It looked like a simple telescope, with intricate metalwork across bronze facade. But when he twisted the handle again, the front part of the telescope bent out to one side. “This simple modifiable teleperiscope,” the mayor said. “Has been a family heirloom for hundreds of years.”
“Impressive,” Faso said. “How technology used to be so primitive.”
“Sometimes the best of designs is the simplest,” the mayor said. “And this one does what I need it to do.”
“Ah, but if you could get a recording of what’s happening out there by Hummingbird, then you could cast it via projector onto a screen in here.” Faso put his hand on his chin, smugly.
“Then Cini’s snipers will shoot the Hummingbird and he’ll send in extra troops to quell such an operation at once.”
“But no one’s tested this theory,” Sukina pointed out again.
“Miss Sako, if you’ve known Cini III for as long as I have, you’d know he doesn’t make false threats.”
“I can believe that,” Sukina said. “Although, something’s wrong. If they had those snipers posted, they would have seen us come in.”
“Or perhaps they didn’t see us through the fog,” Faso pointed out.
“Your parents are at the town hall,” the mayor said. “That’s what I brought you in to tell you.”
“We know,” Sukina said. “But do you know anything that will help break us out?”
“I’ve been watching the patrols. They threw me out of the town hall so they could take the whole building. But fortunately, a kind couple let my family and I use their unrented place as a safehouse
“One of Cini’s officers came in a week or so ago, with around thirty troops and these fierce sniper automatons. He brought one into town and said the rest were posted in the hills. Its thin head had a long muzzle the length of a yard pole and a low four wheeled base that looked heavy enough to keep them secure. And there was a green sheen which kind of washed over them. The officer showed it shoot the heads off some scarecrows five fields across from the town centre. Then, he threatened to kill anyone who stepped out of their houses at night. The same if anyone tried to leave the village.”
Again, it was another sign that Cini had changed his stance.
“As I thought,” Sukina said. “Cini only sent a smaller force as he probably doesn’t think he needs a larger one. It’s possible that there’s only perhaps one sniper automaton, posted more as a deterrent than something that wants to kill.”
“But why would Cini do that?” I asked.
“Because he wants to take us alive.”
“That may be,” the mayor said. “But there’s still a large enough guard to be a threat. I watched what happened through my teleperiscope here. Last night, a troop of twelve redguards and several war-automatons marched towards your father’s farm with torches. I thought the officer was going to kill them, but I saw the troops bring them back towards my town hall. Fortunately, your parents moved willingly without resistance.”
Panic rose up in my chest. “You mean you don’t know if they’re still alive in there?”
The mayor put one hand on my shoulder. “Put it this way. I’m a pretty light sleeper and wouldn’t have missed it if there’d been gunshots.”
But there were knives, poison, gassing, drugs, anything could have happened to them. “We have to go in,” I said, and I moved towards the door.
Sukina held out her arm to stop me. “Wait a moment,” she said and turned to the mayor. “You mentioned you’d been studying their movements. Did you manage to ascertain how many there were?”
“There’s three regular redguards in there, as far as I can tell. Or at least three come out at regular intervals. And the automatons, from their movements I’m guessing there’s around four of them. But honestly, all this I don’t know for sure.”
“How often do the guards pass?” Sukina asked.
The mayor looked at the pocket watch dangling from his breast pocket. “Yes, the redguards seem to always pass on schedule. I’m pretty sure they’ll pass here in five minutes and then won’t return for half an hour or so.”
Sukina looked at me. “Then soon might actually be a good time to move. How often do the automaton guards rotate, Mayor Sandorini?”
Dragonseers and Airships Page 17