Plundered Chronicles_Skyblade's Gambit

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Plundered Chronicles_Skyblade's Gambit Page 8

by Robert Dahlen


  The two goblin guardsmen had gotten the shaft. They were stuck on guard duty in front of the double doors, confined to their post while most of the crew was up on deck. “Did you hear all that cheering and yelling, Voot?” the taller, huskier goblin said with a sigh.

  “Right after the ship shook, Krinn?” the shorter goblin said as he scratched himself. “Hard to miss.”

  “Jonsson's new gun must have worked,” Krinn said. “And we missed all the fun.”

  “Stuck on guard duty. Dumb idea.” Voot waved his hand. “Who's going to break in here? Stupid demerit.”

  “I don't know why I was reprimanded,” Krinn said sadly. “You were the one who broke into the ship's pantry. I was just there to keep you out of trouble.”

  “I thought I heard mice!”

  “And you ate the captain's kringle.”

  “I had to keep the mice from getting to it!” Voot said. “And I didn't touch that brandy.”

  “The seal had been broken.” Krinn scowled. “I needed to make sure it wasn't poisoned.”

  “Is that why you called Lieutenant Makkelson a 'hair-brained mud hen'?”

  “Only when he tried to take the bottle—”

  Krinn stopped and nudged Voot, pointing down the hall at the two approaching guardsmen. Voot stood up straight and adjusted his hat. “What are those two doing down here?” he said.

  “They probably have the inspection report.” Krinn snapped to attention and saluted.

  “Glad you finally showed up, then.” Voot pulled a key ring from his belt. “Old Jonsson's getting crabby in there.”

  Krinn grinned. “Cats got your tongues, huh?”

  “Sorry,” the taller one murmured. “Late night. The noise is giving me a headache.” The shorter one, as if on cue, yawned.

  “I know the feeling,” Krinn said.

  “Wait a minute,” Voot said. “Those two are out of uniform, aren't they?” He pointed at the guardsmen's legs.

  “That's odd.” Krinn eyed the worn boots the guardsmen wore. “Didn't have time to change before we cast off?”

  “Not exactly.” Victorie smiled.

  Voot raised his head when he heard the voice and looked into Victorie's eyes. “Uh-oh—” he said, just before she punched him hard in the face.

  As he fell, Annabel kicked Krinn in the stomach, then struck him in the back of the neck as he staggered. He dropped to the deck next to Voot. “You knocked him out with one punch?” Annabel said to Victorie.

  “I did.” Victorie shook out her hand and grimaced. “Not one of my better ideas.”

  Annabel bent down and picked up the keys. “Best if I let us in, then.” She opened the door, and the women quietly stepped inside the room.

  They glanced around as Annabel started to close the door. The large room was lit on one side by torches, and on the other by a windows on either side of the bowsprit, but that light was hardly necessary.

  There was a large wooden panel trimmed with copper set below the bowsprit. Copper wiring connected the bowsprit with a crystal larger than a man's head, and a trigger mounted to the bottom of the panel. And in the center of the panel was an amulet, seven sapphires set in silver, glowing a bright but eerie shade of blue. A mesh of wiring had been strung from the amulet's gems to the crystal.

  A Svendaran gunner sat in front of the panel, watching the wiring, checking out the windows. Jonsson stood near him, arms folded, an impatient sneer on his face. Woolcott was leaning against a side wall, looking out the window into the horizon.

  Jonsson snapped to attention as the door closed. “There you are!” he said as he walked towards the women. “What's the report?”

  “Report?” Annabel said, trying to pitch her voice low.

  “Yes!” Jonsson stopped several yards from Annabel. “What do you have for me?”

  Annabel threw off her fur coat and drew her pistolere. “This, you bastard,” she snapped as she fired.

  Her first shot grazed the Svendaran's calf. Jonsson staggered, and the second pellet tore through his thigh. He fell to his knees, gritting his teeth as blood poured down his leg.

  The gunner had turned, but Victorie had shed her fur coat and was on him, sword drawn. She stabbed him through the arm, then hit him in the temple with the sword hilt. She stepped back as he toppled from his chair.

  “I wouldn't move if I were you, Brassfeld.” Victorie turned to see Woolcott pointing a pistolere at her. “Drop that sword.”

  Victorie tossed her rapier to one side. “Don't do this, Woolcott,” she said. “You're outnumbered.”

  Annabel raised her pistolere. “Two against one,” she snapped.

  “But is it really?” Woolcott said. “Svendaran pistoleres only have three shots. You have just the one shot left, don't you? What if you miss?”

  “You're still a dead man,” Annabel said coldly. Behind her, Jonsson crawled towards the door on his hands and knees, leaving a trail of blood.

  “Even if you strike me down, you'll never leave here alive,” Woolcott said to the pirate.

  “Maybe,” Annabel said, swerving her head back and forth, trying to keep her eyes on both Woolcott and Victorie. “I'll take that chance.”

  “But,” Woolcott continued, “I'll make you a deal, Captain Skyblade. If you use your last shot on Brassfeld, you will walk off this airship a free woman. I promise.”

  “Only until she's off the gangplank,” Victorie said angrily.

  “You can return to the Peregrine and go. We will not pursue you.”

  “I know what the promises of a traitor are worth,” Victorie said. “Nothing. Hot air.”

  “Listen to her rant!” Woolcott smiled. “You may not trust me, but Brassfeld is ruthless. She only thinks of you as a way to advance her career. Her father betrayed me, and she'll betray you..”

  “It’s not true, Annabel,” Victorie said. “Believe me, it's not.”

  “Can you take that chance, Skyblade?” Woolcott said. “Are you willing to risk your life for someone who’s just going to have you sent to the gallows?”

  “Annabel…” Victorie said softly. “Look at me.” Annabel turned to face Victorie, lowering her pistolere. “I know what he’s trying to do,” Victorie said. “I know you trust me, no matter what he might say. I know you care for me. I also know escaping this airship alive might be impossible.”

  “Torie…” Annabel swallowed.

  She saw Victorie staring at the thunder gun, the Amulet of Glena glowing, the giant crystal throbbing with the energy it was drawing from the sapphires. “Do what you need to do,” Victorie said. “Do what you must.”

  “Aye!” Woolcott pointed with his free hand at Annabel. “Decide, pirate. What is your choice?”

  Annabel slowly raised her pistolere, aiming it at Victorie’s chest. “No,” Victorie said to herself.

  “Who do you trust?” Woolcott shouted.

  “Myself, first and foremost,” the pirate said as Victorie lowered her head, eyes closed, a tear on her cheek. “And one other.”

  “Your crew?” Woolcott said. “Your ship? Me?”

  “Nay.”

  “Who, then?”

  “Torie.” Annabel spun towards the control panel and fired her pistolere.

  Her shot struck the crystal dead center, cracking it open. The eldritch energy inside flared, glowing like a small sun. Woolcott staggered and reflexively covered his eyes with his arm. “You little bitch!” he snarled. “I'll—”

  Victorie elbowed Woolcott's forearm. He winced and dropped his pistolere; she kicked it away and picked up her rapier. “Draw your sword,” she said with a quiet anger.

  “Honor, then?” Woolcott said as he pulled his broadsword from its scabbard. “No stomach for killing an unarmed man?”

  “I will win this fight, you traitorous bastard.” Victorie swung at Woolcott.

  He parried her and snapped his arm around; Victorie barely deflected his swing. “All talk,” Woolcott sneered as Victorie took a step back. “I've been practicing nearly ev
ery day. Waiting for this moment.”

  Woolcott stepped in and swung. Victorie parried his strike, pushing forward. Woolcott staggered back as Victorie thrust, her sword tearing through his coat. “You've been sitting behind a desk,” Victorie hissed, “while I've been fighting for my life and for the people of Cerindel. The people you've betrayed.”

  “Have at it, then.” Woolcott engaged Victorie, the clashing of their swords echoing through the room.

  Annabel shook her head as she watched. They're too evenly matched, she thought. I need to help Torie somehow. She saw Woolcott's pistolere near the far wall, and took a step towards it.

  “There!” Annabel spun towards the door and saw Jonsson standing there, held up by the two goblins. “Kill the women, Maldech,” Jonsson said, “but keep Woolcott alive if you can.”

  “Bring them on,” Annabel said, drawing her sword. “I can handle those goblins.”

  “I wasn't referring to them.” Jonsson smiled as Krinn and Voot recoiled in fear.

  The man in the golden mask pushed past the goblins and walked into the room, wordlessly pointing his greatsword at Annabel. “Damn,” the pirate said to herself.

  As Maldech moved towards Annabel, the two goblins ran off, carrying Jonsson with them. “Stop, you fools!” he shouted. “I wanted to watch this!”

  “We need to get you to the infirmary,” Krinn said. “You're losing too much blood!”

  “Regulations,” Voot added.

  “He won't miss much,” Annabel muttered as Maldech started to swing. She ducked to avoid the attack and slashed at the masked man's leg, cutting his trousers. She rolled out of the way as he chopped down at her. How the devil can I win this fight? she thought as Maldech lifted his sword. If he's armored, then I need to find a spot that isn't…

  Annabel nodded to herself as she parried Maldech's swing. As he swung again, she spun to one side and sliced at his head, catching the strap of his mask and cutting through it. She pulled back as the mask slipped off, reluctantly ready to go for Maldech's face if she had to.

  Maldech turned his head, and Annabel gasped. “Like what you see?” he said in his slow, raspy voice. His face was not human, except for the eyes and tongue. The rest was dull iron and shining brass, drilled onto his skull. His ears and nose were just holes, and his mouth was fixed in a cruel smile.

  He's not human, Annabel thought, frozen at the sight of Maldech's face. He's some sort of gadgeteer's nightmare. A clockwork monster…

  “Annabel!” Victorie's shout snapped the pirate out of her daze as Maldech brought his greatsword down at her head. Annabel jumped back, risking a glance at Victorie. She and Woolcott were still dueling; both had scored slight cuts on each other's limbs, but not serious wounds.

  Maldech seized the initiative, raining blows down on Annabel. She managed to parry them, but he kept driving her back. She glanced over her shoulder as they neared the thunder gun and the control panel. How do I stop him? she thought. Is it just his face that is…

  Annabel risked a quick stab at the clockwork man's throat as she remembered the fight on her windjammer, when she had stuck him in the shoulder with her dagger. It could work, she thought. It has to.

  Maldech parried the stab and swung, but Annabel spun to the side to dodge it. She could see Woolcott pressing down on Victorie, backing her against a wall, and Woolcott's pistolere on the floor. She gritted her teeth and kept dodging, trying to get Maldech to turn away from the control panel.

  “Ha!” Annabel looked over to Woolcott. He was grinning at the sight of blood on Victorie's left arm. She gritted her teeth, keeping her sword up as he said, “Shall I finish you now, or let you live long enough to see the pirate die?”

  Maldech brought his sword down. Annabel bent to one side; as the sword chopped past her, she dropped her rapier and pushed Maldech in the chest with both hands. He staggered and fell back against the control panel.

  Annabel grabbed Woolcott's pistolere. As Maldech straightened up, she fired twice, hitting the clockwork man in the chest. The pellets bounced off him, but the impact knocked him back.

  “Still alive?” Woolcott sneered, “We'll take care of that—”

  “Not today.” Annabel aimed at Woolcott and fired. The shot tore through his right shoulder; he dropped his broadsword, gasping in pain as he fell to his knees.

  Maldech turned his metallic head to look at Annabel as she dropped the pistolere and picked up Woolcott's broadsword. “Too much for you,” Maldech rasped. Annabel kept quiet as she marched towards him, holding the broadsword in both hands.

  He started to swing his sword, but as he did, Victorie picked up Woolcott's pistolere. She shot Maldech in the face, the pellet ricocheting off his forehead. As he reeled, Annabel drove the broadsword into his shoulder, out through his back, and into the crack in the power crystal.

  She let go of the sword and stepped back, her hands tingling. The energy the crystal had stored ran up the sword's blade and into Maldech. He shook uncontrollably as sparks flew off his body and the sword.

  Annabel reached behind him and tore the copper wiring free. She yanked the Amulet of Glena from the control panel and stuffed it in a pocket. “Mine at last,” she said to herself with a smile.

  There was a bright flare. Annabel looked up and saw that the energy had stopped coursing through Maldech and was building up in the damaged crystal. “You damned fool!” Woolcott said. “It's going to blow up, and take you with it!”

  “Half right.” Victorie leaped at Annabel, tackling the pirate. They slid across the floor as the crystal exploded, shards flying over their heads and into Maldech's back. Sparks landed on the wall and floor, some of them carrying flames from the torches.

  “Time to go?” Annabel said as she jumped to her feet and picked up her sword.

  “And fast.” Victorie started for the door.

  “Brassfeld.” Victorie turned towards Woolcott. He was still on his knees, clutching his shoulder, blood trickling through his fingers. “You won't win. You and Skyblade are dead.”

  “Not yet,” Victorie said.

  “Maybe not at my hand...” Woolcott gritted his teeth. “But I have associates. They'll know what happened.”

  “There were others?” Victorie's eyes widened.

  “Torie!” Annabel grabbed Victorie's arm. “We don't—”

  “Who?” Victorie shouted. “Who's with you? How high does this go?”

  “You'll find out someday.” Woolcott smiled as the flames reached the ceiling.

  “Damn your eyes!” Victorie said as Annabel pulled her towards the door.

  As the women fled the room, the gunner stirred. He took a deep breath and jumped to his feet, eyes wide with surprise as he looked around the room.

  His jaw dropped as he saw Maldech. The clockwork man braced himself against the control panel and pulled free of the crystal. He pointed at Woolcott and said, “Get him help,” as he walked out of the room, Woolcott's sword still jutting from his shoulder.

  The crewmen in front of the door fled in panic as Victorie and Annabel ran up, swords drawn. Victorie kicked the door open, and Annabel followed her into the hangar. “Get the hatch open,” Victorie said.

  Annabel nodded and ran to the far side of the room. The hatch was barred, but not locked; the pirate threw the bar aside and opened the hatch doors. As she did, Victorie walked over to one of the lifeboat airships and drew her pistolere. “Torie?” Annabel asked.

  “That fire won't be enough of a distraction. I want to be sure they won't follow us.” Victorie aimed her pistolere at the airship controls and fired. The pellet shattered the controls; she nodded and moved to the next airship.

  As she did, Annabel hopped in the pilot's seat of the airship nearest the door. She dug into her coat pocket and pulled out the charm Pilfor had given her that morning. She stared at it, chanting softly, and felt her hand tingle as the charm started to glow.

  Annabel tucked the charm away as another pistolere shot rang through the hangar. “Hurry!”
she shouted as she touched one of the argent inlays, casting the spell that caused the metal to float and carry more than its weight. She pulled the lever, and the twin propellers started to rotate slowly.

  “One more...” Victorie stopped as she saw the shadow in the doorway. “Damnation.”

  Maldech slammed the door behind him. “This ends here,” the clockwork man said as he pulled the broadsword from his shoulder.

  “What does it take to get rid of you?” Annabel shouted as her airship began to float.

  “More than you have.” Maldech took a step towards Victorie, pointing his sword at her.

  “Get out, Annabel.” Victorie holstered her pistolere and reached for her rapier. “I'll hold him off.”

  Annabel shook her head. “There's no way I'm leaving you here.” She yanked the lever that controlled the propellers; as they roared to top speed, she grabbed the airship's wheel and twisted it hard to one side.

  The lifeboat flew across the hangar, gaining speed. Victorie backed away from Maldech as he turned towards the airship. It smashed into him, pinning him against the door.

  Annabel jumped from the airship and ran. “I hope you remember which one still works!” she shouted.

  “This one.” Victorie jumped into the passenger's seat of the last airship. She pulled the lever as Annabel hopped in next to her and tapped the argent inlays. The airship came to life, and the pirate steered it towards the hatch.

  Maldech growled and grabbed the airship that held him in place. He threw it to one side, smashing it against the hangar wall. He started after Annabel and Victorie but stopped as their airship cleared the hatch, rocking as it hit the open air, picking up speed as it flew away from the Emperor Gylfard.

  Chapter Seven

  As the cutter soared through the sky, the clouds lit by the setting sun, Annabel looked back at the dreadnought. “The fire is spreading. Looks like we did a fine job on it,” she said with a grin.

  Victorie glanced at the airship. “I do hope no one gets hurt fighting that fire,” she said.

  “But at least it won’t fly again for some time.”

 

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