The Codex of the Witch: Fantasy Novel
Page 8
“We’ll come close to the Scourge,” Silla comments.
“I know. But I’d rather keep far away from those unknown gentlemen,” Kasia grumbles.
“North, Northeast, three hundred and four degrees,” Silla reports.
Lili turns the rudder and the fuselage sways again.
“One of those cones changed course,” Alina interrupts. “It’s closing in on us. It’s… it’s fast. It’s damned fast!”
“Silla, transmit on all frequencies: ‘Keep your distance, emergency maneuvers in process: avoid invading our navigational space. We are not hostile, but we are armed.’ Repeat it three time. Alina, estimated distance?”
“Around two thousand feet. They’re closing in on us something terrible, it must be a hundred fifty knots.”
Kasia open the top button on her blouse. An unknown ship, with unknown technology.
“Riger, prepare the twelve cannon.”
“The Scourge is retreating toward the coast,” Silla interjects, interrupting radio communication.
“We should turn back, Captain,” Guild Poe whispers at her back.
“Silence on the bridge! Hansi, if our passenger opens his mouth again, put a gag in his mug.”
“Yes, Captain,” another trembling little voice at her back mutters.
Kasia needs to think fast. Regardless of how swift the unknown ships may be what interest could they have in an armed encounter with them? They certainly didn’t come from America planning on firing cannon at everyone they met.
“Guild Poe,” Kasia twists her head a bit, “why would these foreigners attack us? Answer me truthfully, otherwise I might make the wrong decision and get us all killed.”
“Because we saw them. They don’t want witnesses to their arrival.”
“And what is the end goal of their plan?”
“What a foolish question, Captain. What’s the goal of every plan in the world? Survival, domination, prosperity for their species.”
“Species?”
Silence from the back row.
“Captain, they’re a thousand feet away. Maybe less,” Alina interrupts them.
“Silla, message that we’re about to fire a warning shot.”
“Done, Captain,” the other responds after a brief speech into the microphone.
“Alina?”
“They’re still coming. No change in course.”
“Warning shot. Fire.”
Riger presses the wrought metal trigger, letting the muted rumble of their main cannon ring.
“Silla, transmit the message again. No communications?”
“I have a message from the Scourge. It says, ‘Captain Santuini, turn back to solid ground; it’s your only option. Over and out.’”
“Auntie, they’re six hundred feet away!”
Kasia would like to rebuke Alina for her informal address, but now is not the time to teach good manners on deck.
“Shoot, Captain!” Guild Poe interjects from behind her. “Sho—hmpf.”
Agitated noises behind her seat, of men elbowing each other.
“One doesn’t shoot at people one doesn’t know, Mr. Poe. Hansi, let him go.”
Kasia feverishly checks the nautical charts. Given the relative speed of that thing there’s nowhere they can escape to. At least not without attempting a desperate move.
“Lili, climb two hundred feet. Engine at eight eighths. Alina, strap in!”
“Valves closed, ascending.”
“Hold on,” Kasia commands, hoping the young witch hasn’t forgotten for the umpteenth time to secure the lookout station’s hook. The clouds leap towards them as their blood sinks to their feet, gluing them to their seats. The engines rumble faintly, fighting against the magnetic wind picking up as they gain altitude.
As soon as they pierce the first clouds, Kasia shouts over the din of the planks rattled by the storm: “Valves stable, helm straight ahead!”
If they manage to stay near the edge of the storm clouds, maybe they can maintain navigation. Maybe they can cover their tracks.
“Graydar?”
“It’s still blind, Captain!” Silla answers, overcoming the clamor.
The airship rides the wind, beating against it like a swallow in a hurricane. Frightening spikes in pressure make them jerk dozens of feet higher and lower, testing the quasi-aluminum cage that holds the vacuum controlling atmospheric buoyance.
“The pressure indicators are off the dial, Captain,” Lili shrieks, clinging to the helm’s wheel.
“Let’s descend forty feet.”
“They’re behind us!” Alina interrupts. “They’ve fired. It’s a grappling line!”
A muffled blow upsets the hull, pulling it off course.
“They want to board us!” Kasia shouts. “Riger, machine gun the line.”
Confused thoughts run through Kasia’s mind. No one should be able to follow them in the clouds and no one should be able to throw a boarding line with such precision in the middle of this mayhem. That maneuver smells of magic sight.
The heavy machine gun fire surpasses the clashing of thunder above them.
A sound of splintering wood tears through the cabin and Kasia feels the chair give way below her back. She harpoons the armrests with all her might while the sea appears in the front window approaching swiftly. Jumbled shouts fill the bridge. Kasia extends her arm and grips the red steel lever, the one she’s never had to pull in decades of flying.
The rod is tough as stone, but Kasia, with the force of desperation, manages to lower it completely while the foam waves grow closer, eager to swallow their bodies.
The explosive charges placed at the cabin’s peak open the parachutes, which slow their descent with a violent tug. Kasia hits her head on the headrest and the taste of blood fills her mouth.
“Riger!” Kasia screams. “Realign the cannon!”
“Captain, helm vacant!” Silla shouts, her mouth spitting out both blood and words.
Lili lies collapsed against the rudder’s wheel, unconscious.
A blast shakes the cabin. Kasia strikes the belt’s clasp with the palm of her hand, trying to reach the fainted witch.
“Status! Who fired? Riger, the cannon?” Kasia needs to cross the dangerously sloped deck on all fours.
Another roar, further away.
“It’s the Scourge!” Alina screams at her, still gripping the binoculars. “They’re firing at that damned cone-shaped vessel.”
Kasia manages to grab hold of the wheel. She tries to delicately rest Lili’s head against the floor. The hand she pulls back is streaked with blood, but she has no time to tend to her sister.
“Hansi! Come here, damn it! Help me; see what’s wrong with Lili. Riger, talk to me.”
“I can’t manage to line up this son of a bitch. The wheel’s been hit, it’ll only turn a few degrees.”
“I’ll lend you a hand myself. I don’t intend to sink without leaving those nameless bastards a souvenir.” She turns the rudder, and the hull swings until it’s lined up with the prow of the enemy ship. It’s so large they can’t fail to hit it, unstable as they are.
“Fire!” shouts Kasia.
The cannon booms over their heads and through the window. Kasia follows the white trail of their shell, anticipating its impact against the dark flank.
When the shot seems as if it’s about to reach its target, the enemy ship sways and the shell deviates a few degrees, as if caught by a sudden gust of wind, going off to die in the distance.
“But…” Kasia mumbles.
“Missed,” Riger reports immediately. “I don’t believe it.”
Another blast is added from behind them, followed by the white trail of a projectile which speeds a dozen yards from the side of their cabin, towards the huge enemy vessel.
The shot reaches the ship’s external structure burying itself in its defenses.
“The Scourge jabbed it,” Silla says. “I have a transmission.”
“Send it through,” Kasia commands.
Kasia curses and turns the whole steering wheel, lining up the prow with the Scourge. “To hell with it! Let’s retreat. Riger, spin round the machine gun and fire the whole clip full of shells. It won’t make a big difference, but it will slow them down a bit.
The airship teeters forward, shaken by the sea winds and the discharge of shots the prow’s weapon spits at their strange foes. The Scourge continues to fire its own shells at regular intervals.
“They’re moving away,” Alina says. “They’re turning toward the open sea. We did it.”
“Right,” Kasia remarks. “We managed to hand ourselves over to the Dutch; a great outcome. Hansi, speak to me. How’s Lili?”
“She’s breathing,” the boy answers, pitiless.
“Guild Poe, expert in emergency medicine, get off your behind and help him.”
“Captain, I can’t be sent back to the Dutch,” Guild Poe sighs, strapped to his chair.
Kasia tightens her jaw. “I understand; I’ll do whatever’s possible. But right now help my sister.”
“Captain, if you go with them, you’ll have no other choice. You’ll have to deliver me to the baron. Reverse course, let’s attempt the crossing.”
“We can’t. In this condition we’ll never make it. The quasi-aluminum frame is damaged, I have just one balloon to sustain us; the other two have been pierced.”
“Let’s try all the same,” he answers.
“No. We’ll fall back to solid ground. Listen, Guild Poe. If you help Lili, I swear to you I won’t hand you over to the Dutch. I’ll come up with something, but I won’t hand you over. Leonardo sent you to me, right? Do you know why? Because Kasia Santuini keeps her word. If you don’t want to trust in me, trust him.”
After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Guild Poe unfastens his belt. “You swear, Captain?”
“I will not hand you over to the Dutch. I swear it, I’ll sooner blow the entire damned dock into the sky, what the devil do I have to say to you? Now move it!”
“We’ll see what the words of a witch are worth,” Guild Poe remarks, with a grimace. He heads stumbling towards Lili, stretched out on the floor with her face striped with blood, dry and brown.
“Eight hundred feet to terra firma,” Silla announces. “What should we communicate?”
“Ask that genius aboard the Scourge. Let them take care of the bureaucracy. Tell him we have a medical emergency onboard.”
Silla once again mutters into the communication microphone, trying to smooth out the difficulties of port authority authorizations and requirements.
Kasia adjusts to the Scourge’s course, within their firing range. Prisoners of the Dutch once again, years after the war’s end, set in their weapons’ sites. She consults the map, but she doesn’t need calculations to figure out where they’re headed. Den Haag, the Hague, the capital of the Palatinate.
PART FOUR: WE ALL FALL DOWN
“She’ll make it. She has some cerebral swelling so she needs to rest, at least until it goes down. The next forty-eight hours are crucial; she absolutely has to stay still without being shaken up.”
Guild Poe secures the bandage around Lili’s skull with a small aluminum hook while she’s stretched out on the rude table of the medic’s room, cluttered with all sorts of instruments.
“Thank you, my friend.” Kasia extends her hand and pats one of his arms. “You’re on the ball. My ankle hardly hurts at all anymore.”
The man stares at her with his dark eyes, silently reminding her of her promise. The Dutch seem dead set on putting her passenger in shackles and stopping them could cost them everything, if they decide to go all out.
“Captain,” Silla’s voice, hoarse from exhaustion, over the intercom. “The port authority wants to come aboard to inspect the cargo.”
“Refuse them, we’re in the middle of a medical emergency and the airship’s conditions aren’t stable. Ask them if they know the Navigation Code. The one they wrote; they don’t have the right to come aboard.”
“I also have a message from the Scourge.”
“What do they want?”
“'Captain Host Van Thieg welcomes you to Den Haag and congratulates the crew of the Needle for docking in conditions allowing for poor maneuverability. If the Needle needs medical or shipwright’s assistance we will be happy to send our experts on board.' End of transmission.”
“So,” Kasia adds, “the baron isn’t eager for the whole world to know you’re here, Guild Poe. It seems he wants to keep the information confidential, and this could play in our favor. Let’s try to buy for time in order to learn more. Silla, politely answer him that the crew is worn out and we’ll be on stand-by for six hours. Also, respond politely to the port authority, forget my earlier remarks, but don’t let them come on board.”
“Captain,” Guild Poe interjects, “the baron has strong ties with the Palatinate. Don’t think he wants to keep a low profile because he isn’t backed up by the Dutch government; that would be an ignorant mistake. He simply wants to keep it away from indiscreet ears. English ears. If you’re clever, you’d make the fact I’m here as public as possible.”
“You think? Well, we’ll hold back a few hours on the public celebration of our American cousin’s arrival at the prestigious international port of Den Haag for two reasons: right now I’m not sure it’s a good idea and secondly it’s been twenty-three hours since I’ve slept and twelve since I’ve eaten. Let’s push back the life and death decisions until we all have clear heads and full bellies, okay? Come now, let’s go to the pantry.”
Moments later, tired faces gather around the light wood table of the Needle’s narrow mess hall. Riger chews a mouthful of bread, with disheveled hair and eyes gazing off into space.
Alina stares at her cup, shoulder to shoulder with young Hansi, who plays around with a bottle cap on the table.
“How is Lili, Auntie?” Alina asks.
“She took a nasty blow to the head, but our new medic says she should pull through without major problems. She needs to rest.”
From the door leading to the bridge Silla appears. “We’re on stand-by, Captain. The port authority complained a bit, but in the end it should all be settled. No communications from the Scourge.”
“Sit. Everyone sit down. Have you anything prepared?”
“There’s bread,” Riger gripes. “And cured ham, some apples. No, we haven’t cooked anything, Captain.”
Feeding themselves decently has always been one of the privileges of her ship’s crew. In part because to pass the hours in flight, they often occupied themselves preparing delicious dishes.
“I’ll make some soup. We should eat something warm, to regain a bit of strength,” Kasia says, heading toward the burner.
“No, Captain. I’ll do it,” Silla answers.
Kasia decides to follow her companion’s suggestion. The weariness around her is like a lead blanket and furthermore there are a few rules aboard ships that have withstood the passing of decades and navigational regulations. One, that has been followed since the first airship lifted itself from solid ground, is that the Captain doesn’t cook.
“Sisters,” Kasia begins, “our situation is a troubled one. The top priority is obviously to repair the airship. We first need to take stock of the damages. The grappling hook they threw at us damaged the quasi-aluminum frame, so repairs will be long and costly. As soon as we have the full picture, I will go to the local bank branch, to find out if and how they can finance us.”
Gloomy silence at the table. More incoming debts, more years of payments and installments to be added to all those they’ve already taken on. The hope of restoring their fortune and their independence withdraws into the fog of the distant future.
“Anyway,” Kasia continues, mercilessly, “that may be the least of our proble
ms. Baron Dietrich who, according to our guest, acts directly on the Palatinate’s behalf, persists in wanting to put his mitts inside our ship to pick this strange, exotic fruit.”
Kasia pauses to stare at Guild Poe who returns her gaze, his lips pulled tight.
“I intend to keep my word, and I won’t hand over our passenger. On the other hand, if I want to be able to negotiate I need to have more information. Don’t you agree, Guild Poe?”
“You’re no fool, Captain. You know the only weapon left to you in negotiation is my life,” Guild Poe objects.
“A rather weak weapon. I’m not in the habit of making threats I cannot carry out. If I were forced to kill you, we’d no longer be of any concern. We wouldn’t even have time to jump ship. No, I have another idea. Let us share the burden. Give me something useful, a pretext, an argument, anything. I’m a merchant, my job is to create a need to buy what I possess. Tell me about those ships. Who mans them?”
“There are people who’ve killed for this information. They’re not topics to speak about lightly.”
“No? Very well; participating in my airship’s war counsels isn’t a topic to be taken lightly either, as you said. Do you want to behave like a guest? I can satisfy you right away! Silla, Riger, accompany the gentleman into the cargo hold and put him in the stocks.”
“Captain!” Guild Poe rises to his feet like a spring, but before he can raise a finger, Silla’s hand stabs towards his chest, stopping the point of the blade between the threads of his expensive camel pullover.
The man freezes and gives a hint of a smile. “Captain, this isn’t what we agreed to. The stocks? It’s a colossal waste; I’m your best resource.”
“As you said, it’s a desperate situation and in desperate situations I try first and foremost to save the hide of my crew. There are new conditions, my dear Guild Poe. I won’t deliver you to the baron, unfortunately I swore an oath, regardless you’ve slid down the social ladder from passenger to prisoner. Take him below deck. Oh, and then bring me up that leather suitcase of his, I’m very curious to discover its contents.”