Plundered Chronicles: Skyblade's Gambit (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Skyblade Saga Book 1)

by Robert Dahlen

  Annabel followed Victorie's gaze over the side. “Damn,” she said.

  The fog below them had concealed a galleon class airship, but unlike the Peregrine, the deck had a roof made of wood and canvas, with holes cut for the masts. The airship was painted black from stern to bow, with black sails and rigging. Annabel could barely make out the man in the golden mask as he glided through a hatch in the airship's roof and vanished. “Shall we give chase?” she asked.

  “We'd be no match for them,” Victorie said as the galleon sailed off. “It would be better to guess where they're headed.”

  “Back to the Peregrine, then,” Annabel said as she turned the windjammer around. “We'll need to sift through some clues before we set our course.”

  Victorie glanced at the rear passenger's seat. “It appears our foe left a clue behind,” she said, smiling as she saw the battered thunder gun.

  Chapter Four

  “So what do you make of this?” Annabel pointed at the thunder gun on the table in her cabin as she sat down.

  “Well...” Pilfor sat down across the table from his captain. Big Tom stood near Annabel, his gaze flickering back and forth between the thunder gun and Victorie, who had taken a seat at one end of the table.

  Pilfor glanced at the weapon. “It's a fancy pistolere?” he said to Annabel, grinning weakly.

  The captain sighed. “Pilfor...” she said.

  “Not the time for jokes.” Pilfor stared at the thunder gun, his eyes narrowing. The weapon glowed green for a moment. “Enchanted,” the mage said as the glow faded. “There's another crystal in the barrel. It focuses the energy.”

  “How is it charged?” Annabel asked.

  “The wielder does it.” Pilfor pointed at the stock. “See the brass inlay? The charge is magnified by the crystals in the gun butt.”

  “Similar to the pistolere, but it shoots lighting and not pellets.”

  “So who would make something like this?” Big Tom said.

  “I would guess the ones who would have made the first pistoleres,” Victorie said. “The gadgeteers of Svendar.”

  “No doubt under the direction of Emperor Gylfard.” Annabel stared at the thunder gun. “I don't like this,” she murmured. “Far too easy to miss your target.”

  “But what would Svendar want with the amulet?” Big Tom said. “A chance to humiliate King Archibald and Cerindel? An old debt to settle?”

  “What matters,” Annabel said, “is that they have my amulet.” She grinned as she saw Victorie raise an eyebrow. “And I will get it back.”

  “Captain...” The troll glared at Victorie.

  “No time to drop her off anywhere,” Annabel said, “and she's too useful to throw overboard.”

  “I suppose I should take that as a compliment,” Victorie murmured.

  “She sails with us,” Annabel said firmly. “Have Hardwicke set sail for Svendar, top speed. Dismissed.”

  “Aye, Cap'n,” Tom said as he headed for the door, Pilfor behind him.

  As Victorie followed them, Annabel said, “Major? I would have further words with you.”

  Victorie stopped and nodded as Annabel got up and closed the cabin door. “Yes, Captain?” she said.

  “Is there anything you can tell me, in confidence, about the thunder gun? About Svendar's intentions?”

  “The weapon, no,” Victorie said as she sat down. “But Svendar...Cerindel defeated them in battle two hundred years ago. We've lived in an uneasy peace since then, but we're starting to suspect that tensions might flare again.”

  “Because of Gylfard?” Annabel asked.

  “Yes. The Admiralty is certain the old Emperor's death was no accident, despite the official story.”

  “I know Gylfard doesn't care for pirates.” Annabel grinned. “We had a close call a few months ago.”

  “Perhaps you should have left the imperial uncle's private airship alone,” Victorie murmured.

  “Why?” Annabel walked over to Victorie. “Was it our fault our pockets were empty and our throats were dry?”

  “Out of deference to my host,” Victorie said, “I shall not answer that, Captain.”

  Annabel bent down, her face close to her guest's. “I'll remind you again,” the pirate said, “that while you are here, in this cabin, you have leave to call me Annabel. Does that make you uncomfortable, Victorie?”

  The major stared at Annabel for a moment. “Is that your game, then?” Victorie said softly. “Keep me on edge? Keep me too distracted to turn against you?”

  “Perhaps.” Annabel stared at Victorie. “Or perhaps you need to be taken down a peg.”

  “Many others have tried, you know.” Victorie returned Annabel's stare. “They all failed.”

  Annabel smiled and straightened up. “You are a tough nut to crack, Victorie. Shall I have dinner brought in for us? I have a bottle of Mezaran wine I've saved for a special occasion.”

  The big difference between Annabel and Victorie's lunch and dinner was the wine, a fine and slightly sweet merlot of a noted vintage. After the first glass, and some prodding from Annabel, Victorie had started to talk about some of her adventures, redacting as needed, exaggerating only slightly. To Victorie's surprise, Annabel seemed caught up in her tales, though the major noted to herself that part of that could be chalked up to the wine.

  After Victorie had told the harrowing tale of her escape from Ruegalan bandits, she started to hint that it was Annabel's turn. The pirate promptly told a rather bawdy tale about how she had infiltrated a Mezaran frigate, posing as a wine steward, and had barely escaped with her life and four bottles, three of which had fetched a healthy sum. “And the fourth?” Annabel said. “We've been drinking it.” She grinned.

  “Again, this comes as no surprise.” Victorie smiled slightly. “I suppose I should be concerned about this.”

  “Drinking stolen goods?”

  Victorie covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. “That might be one way to put it.”

  “Aye.” Annabel gazed out the window at the stars. “You've seen my files, Victorie. Have I ever killed anyone except in self-defense?”

  “Not as far as we can tell,” the major answered.

  “And all the merchants and nobles I've plundered. How many of them have I truly ruined?”

  “Well...”

  “None.” Annabel shook her head. “I may have inconvenienced them, but when I steal gold, I'm only taking a fraction of their wealth. That wine merchant? Lost four bottles out of three hundred.”

  “It's still theft,” Victorie said. “And it's still wrong.”

  “More wrong than the way the noble class oppresses the poor and the laborers?” Annabel said. “The nobles you defend?”

  Victorie flushed. “I don't defend them,” she said softly. “I work for them, but I defend the people you say they oppress.”

  “The people of Cerindel?”

  “Yes. At least I try my best to help them.” Victorie reached for the bottle.

  “Stolen goods!” Annabel said.

  “You have already opened it,” Victorie said as she filled Annabel's glass. “Why waste it?”

  “We'll make a pirate out of yet, Victorie,” Annabel said with a grin.

  “That'll be the day.” Victorie started to fill her glass, but only a trickle came out of the bottle. “And there goes the last of the evidence.”

  Annabel looked at her full glass and her guest's nearly empty one. “We can't have that,” she said.

  She picked up her glass. Victorie was expecting Annabel to just pour some wine from one glass to another, but the pirate reached across the table and held the glass to Victorie's lips. “Rather impractical,” Victorie murmured.

  “But more fun,” Annabel said. “Open that mouth of yours, Victorie.”

  The major parted her lips and closed her eyes. She felt herself shuddering as the wine flowed past them into her mouth. As she swallowed, she felt some spill out of the corner of her mouth; she instinctively licked it away.

 
; Victorie opened her eyes and saw Annabel staring at her. She felt, to her surprise, the blush creeping up her cheeks. “Captain...” she said.

  “It's Annabel,” the pirate said. She sat back in her chair and sighed. “Such a proper little primrose. And here I thought you were finally coming out of your shell.”

  “Why does that matter to you?” Victorie said. “Is this whole show just to convince me to let you have the amulet at the end?”

  Annabel's eyes widened. “I...”

  “Is that what this game is all about, Annabel?” Victorie said gently. “Is that what truly matters to you?”

  The pirate turned away. She grabbed her wine glass and drained it. “It's late,” she said quietly. “We should find you a place to bed down for the night.”

  Victorie nodded. “Forgive me if I overstepped my bounds.”

  “It's the wine,” Annabel said. “Let me talk to Tom.”

  Annabel stood and walked to the door. She tried to keep her face away from Victorie, but for a moment, the major could see Annabel pouting and blushing furiously. Did I catch you at your game? Victorie thought. Or...am I wrong? Have I been wrong all along about you?

  The major had been given a bunk in the Peregrine's infirmary; it was not the most welcoming of beds, but Victorie remarked that she'd slept in worse places. Annabel extracted a promise from Big Tom that Victorie would be left alone, and had locked her guest in the infirmary to be sure.

  Annabel returned to her cabin, telling her crew she needed her rest. Instead of retiring, she sat by the cabin window, staring out at the stars, her mind racing as she reached for Victorie's wine glass. What the devil is Victorie doing? she thought. Is she trying to win me over with her words? Is her duty all that she cares about?

  She looked at the wine glass, and the last drops it held. And why I am reacting this way to her? She thought I was playing a game. Maybe I was…but it doesn't feel like one any more.

  Annabel finished the wine and closed her eyes. I don't know how it feels. I just know that I've never felt this way before.

  The Peregrine caught a lucky current, and was within sight of Svendar by the time the sun rose. Svendar was the northernmost sky realm, and the largest, with tall forested peaks and lush valleys. Its skyport was along the western edge, not far from the Emperor's palace and the great shipyards.

  Annabel had unlocked the infirmary and let Victorie out, and they stood at the bow, mugs in hand, as the Peregrine neared Svendar. “It's a pretty view,” Annabel said as she sipped her coffee. “Have you ever been to Svendar, Major?”

  “Several times. Pity I never had time to sightsee,” Victorie said with a smile.

  “Ah. Business.” Annabel grinned. “I've spent a little time in the city. The people there are quite friendly.”

  “If only that could be said for the imperial family.” Victorie took a sip from her mug. “And for their gadgeteers.”

  “They seem like decent people.”

  “Up until the time that you steal their pistoleres.”

  “There is that...wait.” Annabel eyed Victorie. “I only stole two for my use. How many did you steal?”

  “Not me. My father.” Victorie hid her smile behind her coffee mug. “And he only needed to get one to our Navy crafters to have them duplicate it.”

  Annabel laughed. “Full of surprises, aren't we, Major?”

  Pilfor had put up the colors long before the Peregrine reached Svendar's skydock, and she appeared just to be another airship, coming in to drop off passengers. As Victorie stood by the stern, watching as four glashtyn set the gangplank into place, Annabel spoke softly to Big Tom. “Cast off as soon as we're offboard,” she said. “I have one of Pilfor's charms, and we'll signal him as soon as we're ready to be picked up.”

  Tom nodded. “We'll be ready, Cap'n. But...” He stared down at Annabel. “I'd be a lot more comfortable about leaving you here if I was with you.”

  “I know, Tom.” Annabel laid a hand on the troll's forearm. “But I need you here.”

  “To watch the others?”

  “Nay.” Annabel glanced at Victorie as the gangplank was set into place. “Should the worst happen, I need you to avenge me.”

  Annabel had activated her personal masque spell, and Pilfor had cast a matching one on Victorie, before the women disembarked from the Peregrine. The masques made them appear to be tourists from Ristadt, in powder blue dresses and frilly coats, taking a vacation. As they walked through the streets of Svendar, the women passed humans, goblins, and a few dwarves, all going about their business, mostly involving rich food and frothy ales. Svendar was in the path of a polar current, so even in summer, the locals dressed warmly. Annabel and Victorie did attract some stares, but only lecherous ones, as their “dresses” were somewhat low cut.

  At Annabel's insistence, they had stopped at a pastry cart for thick slices of kringle. “These are so good,” Annabel said as she bit into hers.

  “Bit of an indulgence, isn't it?” Victorie said as she nibbled at her kringle.

  “It is, but there's more to it.” Annabel swallowed. “You've been landbound for a while, haven't you?”

  “I have.”

  “Those who are take some things for granted. Being able to walk outside, have a hot meal, enjoy a pastry. Not for me. It's a rare moment to get to do this, and I miss it sometimes.”

  “One does, yes.” Victorie idly flicked a crumb off her cheek. “Are you from here?”

  Annabel raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask that?” she asked.

  “Your hair.” Victorie smiled.

  The pirate nodded. “I was born in Tarleton.”

  “Down below?”

  “Aye. My family had saved up to move us to Wondala when the first news of the Swarm came, but we were delayed over and over as Tarleton's wealthy kept outbidding us for seats. We finally secured passage, but we were separated at the skyport, and I wound up on an airship headed for Ristadt.”

  There was a hint of wistfulness in Annabel's voice as she continued. “I managed to stow away on another ship as a cabin boy. By the time the crew realized I was a cabin girl, I realized it was a pirate airship. One thing led to another.”

  “You haven't seen your family since you were separated?” Victorie asked gently.

  “Nay.” Annabel finished her kringle and fell silent as they walked along.

  Victorie decided not to pry any further. “So where are we heading?” she asked.

  “To my part of town.” Annabel grinned.

  “This is your part of town?” Victorie murmured as she and Annabel walked through a run-down neighborhood.

  “When compared to the gilded towers of Cerindel?” Annabel said. “Aye. This is filled with life!”

  “Of a sort.” Victorie glanced over her shoulder at the two burly, crudely dressed men who were following them at a distance.

  “Are you afraid of those two?”

  “No, but I do worry about blowing our cover when they try to assault us.” Victorie smiled. “Tourists aren't supposed to be so well armed.”

  Annabel nodded. “No matter,” she said as she stopped in front of a pawn shop. “We're here.”

  Victorie opened the door and followed Annabel inside the shop. The shades were only partway open, but as Victorie's eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see the swords and shields hanging on the walls, the jewelry behind the thick glass cases. There were no customers, but two large men stood behind the counter, eying the women suspiciously. “Can we help you?” one of the men, who had a jagged scar on his cheek, said slowly.

  “Aye,” Annabel said. “I'm looking for a Ornithian longbow.”

  The men looked at each other. “Orinth only produces crossbows,” the man with the scar said slowly. “If this is some sort of joke...”

  “Ah, Thalven.” Annabel sighed. “Have you forgotten already?” She snapped her fingers, and her masque vanished.

  “Captain Skyblade.” Thalven shook his head. “I should have realized this was another of yo
ur tricks.”

  “You should remember that no one with my reputation goes anywhere without a disguise,” Annabel said. “And before you ask, my companion will not be shedding hers for you or anyone else.”

  “No surprise. Why are you here, Skyblade?”

  “Information.” Annabel placed her hands on the counter and looked up at the pawnbroker. “A rather fancy amulet, seven sapphires set in silver, was taken from the Cathedral of Glory on Cerindel yesterday. We believe it was brought to Svendar.”

  “I haven't heard a thing about it,” Thalven said.

  “Then who would have?”

  The pawnbroker looked away. “I understand there is someone with connections to the Emperor's Navy who could help,” he said. “Go to the Pounded Nail tavern. Ask for Heidor. Tell them I sent you.”

  “We'll try that, then.” Annabel took a coin from her pocket and set it on the counter. “For your trouble.”

  She turned and left the pawn shop, followed by Victorie. “Why did you send her there, Thalven?” the other pawnbroker said.

  “To see Veccha,” Thalven said.

  “He knows Skyblade?”

  “Put it this way...” The pawnbroker picked up the coin the pirate had left. “One of these is good, but the bag of these Veccha will give me for delivering Captain Skyblade to him is better.”

  Annabel, her masque spell back in place, and Victorie stepped inside The Pounded Nail. It was a typical Svendaran tavern, with bearded bartenders, large steins filled with ale, and barmaids with very low cut tops and good right hooks. Even though it was early, several patrons were already deep in their cups, and there was a crowd in one corner where cards were being dealt. “Charming establishment,” Victorie said softly.

  “We won't be here long,” Annabel said. “Stay with me.” She walked up to the bar, Victorie trailing behind her.

  The bartender smiled as they approached. “What can I get you fair lasses?” he said.

  “Two pints of the dark,” Annabel said.

  “Coming up.” The bartender grabbed two steins and headed for the cask.