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

by Robert Dahlen

“And your assistance.”

  “With what?”

  “We need to find a man named Heidor,” Annabel said as she laid several coins on the bar. “Thalven sent us.”

  The bartender set the steins down on the counter and glanced at the coins. As he scooped them up, he said, “I'll see what I can do.” He stepped out from behind the bar and into the rear of the tavern.

  “Do you think this Heidor can help us?” Victorie said as she carried the steins to a table.

  “I hope he can.” Annabel sat down. “I've actually never been here before.”

  “There's a surprise.” Victorie smiled playfully.

  Annabel shrugged. “It's been a while since I've been to Svendar.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The fences on Cerindel and Mezara pay better.” Annabel grinned as she reached for her stein. “And there is someone here who claims I owe him five hundred krenkevs.”

  “Five hundred?” Victorie raised an eyebrow.

  “There was a slight disagreement between us.” Annabel took a very small sip of her ale. “And that may be why I've never been here.”

  “The disagreement?”

  “The ale.” Annabel made a face. “It's been watered down.”

  “That's the least of your concerns, pirate,” a voice shouted.

  Victorie turned in her chair. “Bugger,” she said quietly.

  Three men were entering the tavern. Two were very tall, very muscular, and had battleaxes at the ready. The third was shorter and more rotund, with a bald head, a long goatee and a sneer fixed in place. “Skyblade,” he said. “It's been a while.”

  “Skyblade?” Annabel said. “Don't be foolish. My name—”

  “Do stop pretending,” the man said with a sigh. “Your masque spell may hide your face, but not your eyes or your voice.”

  The pirate nodded and snapped her fingers. “What do you want, Veccha?” she said as her masque vanished.

  “The money you owe me.”

  “That debt was paid in full,” Annabel said.

  “When and how?” Veccha spread his hands. “There were no witnesses.”

  “You insisted on business being conducted privately!”

  “Five hundred krenkevs. Plus interest.”

  “What!” Annabel jumped to her feet.

  “Perhaps you should have insisted on a receipt,” Victorie murmured as she picked up her stein.

  “You're not helping,” Annabel snapped.

  Veccha's eyes narrowed. “Who's your friend, Skyblade?”

  “A tour guide I met,” Annabel said quickly. “She doesn't know anything about this. Leave her out—”

  “If she doesn't,” Veccha said, “she should go mind her own business.”

  “Tour guide?” Victorie started to stand. “I have a surprise for you, I fear.”

  “Does she owe you money too?”

  “Not exactly.” Victorie moved behind Annabel and snapped her fingers.

  Annabel looked back at Victorie as the major's masque spell faded. “What the devil are you—”

  She stopped as Victorie wrapped her arm around the pirate's neck. “I am Major Victorie Brassfeld, Cerindel Navy. Captain Skyblade is under arrest.”

  “For what?” Annabel said.

  “I'm afraid I don't have enough time to list all the charges,” Victorie said. “Stop struggling.”

  “The laws of Cerindel don't apply here!” Veccha snapped. “Turn Skyblade over to me now.”

  Victorie shook her head. “I'm afraid I can't.” She laid her left hand on Annabel's thigh.

  “Then pay me what she owes me.”

  “I think not. You see...” Victorie slid her hand up Annabel's leg, towards her hip. “We made a deal.”

  Victorie grabbed Annabel's pistolere, drew it and fired towards one of Veccha's guards. The pellet ricocheted off his axe with a loud clang. As he staggered back, Victorie released Annabel and spun towards Veccha, kneeing him in the groin. The moneylender doubled over.

  The other guard raised his battleaxe, but Annabel had already drawn her rapier. She stabbed the guard in the shoulder; he dropped his axe, and she kicked him in the knee.

  Annabel turned and saw Victorie punching her opponent in the face. He toppled over, and Victorie grabbed Annabel's arm. “Come on!” she shouted. Annabel nodded, and the women ran out the tavern's rear door.

  They sprinted for several minutes, through busy streets and alleys, finally stopping behind a fence to catch their breath. “That was a bit more excitement than I expected,” Victorie said, handing Annabel her pistolere.

  “Aye, it was.” Annabel sheathed her sword and holstered her pistolere. “I suspect that Thalven set us up.”

  “It seems he did,” Victorie said. “Annabel? Do me a favor.”

  Annabel tensed. “What would that be?”

  “Next time, let me choose the tavern.” Victorie smiled.

  Annabel bent over and laughed loudly. “You had me worried there,” she said.

  “How so?”

  “I thought you would abandon me to Veccha and find the amulet without me.”

  Victorie shook her head. “We did make a deal, Annabel. And besides…”

  “Aye, Victorie?” Annabel said softly.

  Victorie looked at Annabel. She saw her deep green eyes, her full red lips, the noontime sunlight shining on her red hair, and for the first time in many years, Victorie set caution aside. “The truth is...I think I'm starting to grow a bit fond of you.”

  Annabel's jaw dropped. “You are?”

  Victorie nodded. “It's not what I expected...” She looked away. “But neither were you.”

  Annabel stared at Victorie for a moment. She grabbed the major's shoulders, spun her around and craned her neck.

  Their lips met.

  The kiss lasted for just a few moments, but even in that brief time, Victorie felt her heart pounding, tasted the sweetness of Annabel's lips, fought off a sudden weakness in her knees. She started to blush as Annabel stepped back. “You...” Victorie swallowed. “You kissed me.”

  “You noticed.” Annabel grinned. “Very observant.”

  “I...” Victorie turned away again.

  “Victorie?” Annabel said, her smile fading. “Have I...offended you? Was what I did wrong?”

  “Annabel...” Victorie's head spun as she thought, She kissed me. Maybe...maybe it wasn't a game. Maybe she's starting to care for me?

  “Very well, then.” Annabel lowered her head and started to walk away. “I won't mention it again.”

  “But—” Victorie started to say.

  “Hold it right there, Skyblade!” Veccha rounded a corner and pointed at the pirate.

  Annabel grimaced. “You're bloody persistent,” she said. “But your guards—”

  “Aren't there,” Victorie said as she moved next to the pirate.

  “Not after you assaulted them,” the moneylender said.

  “Self defense,” the major said. “They were about to attack us.”

  “It was an unprovoked assault.” Veccha chuckled as three tall men with halberds and fur coats and hats came around the corner and lined up behind him. “And I'm sure these gentlemen will agree with me.”

  “Svendaran imperial guardsmen,” Annabel said, a grim look in her eyes.

  Victorie stiffened. “I'm sure they'll listen to reason.”

  “They'll listen to their coinpurses.” Annabel snorted. “I'm sure this toad has paid them off.”

  “Captain Skyblade!” Veccha spread his arms. “Are you saying that I committed illegal acts?”

  “Early and often.”

  “Fine talk, from a pirate and her accomplice,” Veccha hissed. “Guardsmen, arrest—“

  “I think not.”

  Veccha and the guardsmen turned and saw the older man in the red tailcoat and white breeches walking up to them. Victorie's eyes widened, but she kept quiet. “What do you want?” Veccha said.

  “Custody of the pirate and her companion,” the man sai
d.

  “On what grounds?”

  The man reached inside his coat and pulled out some papers. “Sebastian Woolcott, attache to the Cerindel Consulate. My credentials?”

  The guardsmen examined the papers. “They do seem to be in order,” one guardsman said.

  Woolcott nodded. “The blond woman is Major Brassfeld. She is here on special assignment.”

  “And the pirate?” Veccha said. Annabel swallowed.

  “She's with me,” Victorie said. “I required her assistance to get here quickly from Cerindel.”

  “Both of them are under my protection, then,” Woolcott said. “I formally request that they be released to my custody.”

  “Released?” Veccha started to turn purple. “What about her debt?”

  “That can be settled later.” Woolcott looked past Veccha, at the guardsmen. “Gentlemen?”

  The tallest guardsman shrugged. “He's got us. Can't risk getting Cerindel's back up over this.”

  “What about my five hundred krenkevs!” Veccha screamed as two guardsmen took his arms.

  “Another time, sir,” the tallest guardsman said as the others led the moneylender away.

  “I'll get you for this, Skyblade!” Veccha shouted over his shoulder. “You'll pay someday!”

  “I already have, you annoying sack of slime!” Annabel said with a grin, waving as Veccha was led around a corner and vanished from sight.

  Victorie tried not to sigh as she turned back towards Woolcott. “Thank you, Major,” she said as she saluted.

  “Think nothing of it.” Woolcott returned her salute. “It's good to see you again, Brassfeld.”

  “The same, I'm sure. I hadn't heard of you being assigned here.”

  “It was just last month. Put in charge of guard duty.”

  “Officially, that is.” Victorie smiled wryly.

  “On the record and all that.” Woolcott glanced at Annabel. “Did I hear correctly? You're the infamous Captain Skyblade?”

  “Aye.” Annabel stared at Woolcott. “I'm working with Major Brassfeld.”

  Woolcott opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and looked over at Victorie. “This should be quite a story,” he said.

  “It is,” Victorie told him. “And we may need your help.”

  “You shall have to tell me more,” Woolcott said. “Over a fine sausage or two, that is.”

  Chapter Five

  The women had put up their masque spells, and they and Woolcott found a quiet tavern with a good selection of wurst. They had sat with Woolcott at a corner table, and had just finished telling their tale to him as they ate. “The Amulet of Glena?” he said as he wiped mustard from his mouth. “I have trouble believing they'd trust anyone with that. No offense, Brassfeld.”

  “None taken,” Victorie said. “But we need to retrieve it, and not just because of the significance it holds.”

  Woolcott raised a bushy eyebrow. “You believe that rubbish the historians came up with?”

  “Rubbish it may be,” Victorie said, “but I recommend not leaving it to chance. We need to get that amulet back.”

  “Assuming we can trust your companion not to steal it for herself.”

  Victorie and Annabel exchanged glances. “We've decided to cross that bridge when we come to it,” Victorie said.

  Woolcott grunted and sipped his ale. “Trusting, just like your father. Has she told you about him, Skyblade?”

  “A little,” Annabel said.

  Woolcott stared into space. “Henry was a fine man,” he said. “Brilliant mind. A great loss.” He looked at Victorie. “I'm sure he'd be pleased with how you've done.”

  Victorie smiled slightly. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

  “Now what about this man you fought? A pellet bounced off him?”

  “It did,” Victorie said. “And I struck him square in the chest.”

  “But he didn't move like an armored man,” Annabel added.

  “And you stabbed him in the shoulder?” Woolcott asked.

  “I did. And there was no blood.”

  Woolcott nodded. “This next part is confidential,” he said softly. “I am trusting you two to keep it secret.”

  “We will.” Victorie glanced at Annabel, who nodded.

  Woolcott leaned forward. “Brassfeld...you remember the old Svendaran research complex? The one near the docks?”

  “I do. I thought they had converted that to an imperial shipyard.”

  “Publicly, yes. But I keep hearing rumors that there's more to it than Svendar is letting on. And not just with new airship designs and pistoleres.”

  Annabel cocked her head. “Are you saying the masked man we fought is some sort of experiment?”

  “Perhaps he was,” Victorie said. “And it also would explain that thunder gun.”

  “And if what the historians are saying has a grain of truth...” Annabel said slowly.

  “Our course is set, then.” Woolcott stood up. “Major Brassfeld, Captain Skyblade…fancy a bit of spying?”

  Victorie and Annabel kept their masque spells up, and Woolcott had one of his own; it disguised him as a Svendaran Navy official, with a gold and black dress uniform and a full, lush red beard. His cover story was that the women were from another noble family, and that they had asked for a tour of the shipyard. The trio was allowed to pass into the docks without question, but it took a heated discussion with the guard at the front gate to the shipyard before they were let inside.

  The shipyard was quiet, with only a handful of people walking around, hurrying between buildings or in and out of the front gate. Woolcott led the others behind one of the buildings, hiding between the back wall and the fence. “Svendarans,” Woolcott said. “Sometimes they'll only go along with you if you yell until they're deaf. What next?”

  “We should split up,” Annabel said. “We'll get the search done quicker that way.”

  “I'm not sure that's best,” Woolcott said.

  “I agree with Captain Skyblade,” Victorie said. “If one of us is captured, that gives another a chance to escape and get to the Consulate.”

  Woolcott looked back and forth at the women. “All right, then,” he said. “Skyblade, you're with me.”

  “It would be best if she stayed with me,” Victorie said. “We seem to work well together.”

  Woolcott raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I agree with that,” he said, “But there's no time to argue. We'll meet back here in an hour.” The women nodded and set off, keeping next to the fence, in the shadows.

  “You seemed quite anxious to get away from Woolcott,” Victorie murmured as she and Annabel slipped through the shipyard.

  “He seemed a little too eager to split us up,” Annabel said.

  “That was a bit odd.” Victorie pointed towards the far end of the shipyard. “That's quite a large hangar, isn't it?”

  “Suspiciously large,” Annabel said. “Shall we take a closer look?” Victorie nodded, and the two slipped through the shipyard. As they neared the hangar, Annabel asked her, “How well do you know Woolcott?”

  “A little,” Victorie said. “He served with my father. They got along well, except for an incident about a decade ago.”

  “What sort?”

  “There was a minor scandal with him and an admiral's wife.”

  “Navy men.” Annabel shook her head. “Can never keep it in their pants.”

  “So I've noticed,” Victorie said. “However, Woolcott took untoward actions to cover it up, including threatening witnesses. My father discovered what had happened and reported it to the Admiralty. It cost Woolcott a promotion."

  “And how did Woolcott take it?”

  “Better than Papa expected. But perhaps we should worry about other things.” Victorie pointed at the hangar. “Shall we see if someone left a door open?”

  Annabel snorted. “We won't be that fortunate.”

  “How did you know that would happen?” Annabel whispered, shaking her head with disbelief.

  “I've do
ne my share of time here on Svendar,” Victorie said quietly as she stood by the slightly ajar door. “The locals get sloppy after lunch. Let's get in.”

  Annabel nodded as Victorie carefully opened the door. The major stepped inside, glanced around, and leaned back out to wave Annabel in. “What are we looking for?” the pirate asked as she closed the door, glancing around the supply room.

  “The amulet,” Victorie said as she made her way through the shelves and crates. “If not that, then something linking Svendar to its theft.”

  Annabel followed her to a door that led into the hangar. “Or something unexpected?” she said.

  “Right,” Victorie said as she joined Annabel and opened the door.

  Annabel stuck her head out and glanced around. “Victorie...” she said slowly.

  “Yes?”

  “I think this counts as 'something unexpected'.” Annabel moved aside to let Victorie into the hangar. The major stifled a gasp.

  The airship was easily five hundred feet long from stern to bow, with three masts, four rear propellers, and four banks of propellers mounted under two pairs of side-sails. “Dreadnought class,” Victorie said. “I thought we'd scuttled the last of those after the war two centuries ago.”

  “This one has to be newly built.” Annabel pointed at the rigging. “The ropes are still glossy. No wear.”

  “And the payload's being inflated.” Victorie looked up at the balloon. “They must be readying a launch today.”

  “And the figurehead.” Annabel shook her head. “The bosom on that woman is ridiculously large. And...”

  “Yes?”

  Annabel stared at the airship's bowsprit, which was thicker than normal and rounded all the way to the tip. “What does that remind you of?”

  Victorie narrowed her eyes. “It looks like...the barrel of the thunder gun.”

  “Seven damned devils. What game are they playing?”

  “I don't know, but we need to get out of here. This is more important than the amulet.” Victorie clenched her fists. “We must get word to the Cerindel Consulate.”

  “If we can.” Annabel pointed across the hangar, her expression grim.

  Four Svendaran guardsmen advanced on the women. “Halt!” one said, drawing his sword.

  “Major...” Annabel reached for her rapier. “Get out. Find Woolcott. I'll hold them off.”