Twin Soul Series Omnibus 1: Books 1-5 (Twin Soul Series Book Sets)

by McCaffrey-Winner

  Ford thought for a moment. “If we turn, we can give chase but we’ll be firing our guns over the town, sire. We may end up doing more damage than good.”

  The prince glowered at him. “If we get beneath it, we can fire up.”

  “The balls, even if they hit him, will still fall to the ground, sire,” Ford replied slowly, using the same tone he’d use with a foolish child.

  The prince turned red. “Needless to say, I wish us to land at our proper dock,” the prince said. “Our mother will be waiting for us and there are laurels well won.” He paused for a moment. “I killed a wyvern, as all will attest!”

  “Begging pardon, sire,” said the captain of the number two gun, “but what about our guinea?”

  The prince took two quick steps toward the man and slapped him hard on the face. “There is no guinea! It was I who took the shot, —” and he hit the helpless airman again “— I who killed the creature —” another slap “— and I who will wear the laurels!”

  He turned to Ford and shouted, “Really, captain, what sort of a crew do you keep?”

  Ford locked his jaws and turned his head away to avoid replying to the tyrant in front of him.

  Nestor turned from him to shout at Reedis, “We’re landing at our dock!”

  “Ease off on the boiler,” Ford said to Newman. “Helmsman, come about and head us to the docks.”

  “Aye, sir,” the helmsman said, turning the wheel that caused the port side propeller to stop turning while feeding more power to the starboard propeller, causing the ship to turn to port in a leisurely manner. “Bow! Report when you have our dock in sight and lined up!”

  “Aye!” came the cry back from Marder. “Dock in sight. Another twenty degrees and we’ll be straight on.”

  Ford took a look around the deck and gestured for Jens to join him. When the lieutenant was within earshot he said, “Secure the guns, dowse the matches, and prepare for docking.”

  “Aye, sir,” Jens said.

  “I’m going below,” Ford told him. “You have the ship.”

  “Aye, sir, I have the ship,” Jens said loudly.

  Without another word, Ford turned to the hatchway and climbed out of the sunlight and into the cool darkness below.

  Chapter Four: A Bitter Triumph

  Twenty minutes later, he was called back to the deck. In the intervening time, Ford had sat at his chair, writing what he could in his log, and trying to forget the dying scream of Sam Havenam as he fell to his death.

  “Ah, you’re back,” the prince said when he spotted Ford rising to the deck. “We’ve managed quite well without you.”

  “I’m glad, sire,” Ford replied, ignoring the jab.

  “I’ve had some time to consider our next actions,” the prince said even as the ship lowered toward the dock below.

  Ford waved a hand palm up, before turning to the mechanic. “Mr. Newman, prepare to feather the propellers on my mark.”

  “Aye sir, on your mark,” Newman agreed.

  Ford looked beyond him to the mage. “Mr. Reedis, how are you?”

  “I’m well enough, captain,” the purple-robed mage allowed. “Could do with a rest, truth be told.”

  “Doubtless you’ll get it and much rewards from the King,” Ford assured him. He glanced forward and toward the ground below. “Is our descent steady now?”

  “Aye, sir,” Reedis replied. “We’re going down at about —”

  “Twenty feet a minute, by my guess,” Ford interjected.

  “Aye, sir,” Reedis agreed.

  “Good,” Ford said. Raising his voice, he called, “Mr. Newman, feather the propellers and prepare to stow them!”

  “Aye, sir!” Newman called back.

  “You know, sire, no one has ever docked an airship before,” Ford remarked calmly to the prince who was pacing nearby.

  “I’m sure you’ll do well at it,” the prince allowed. “When we get docked, I’ll want you take a party —”

  “A party, sire?” Ford repeated, brows drawn in a frown. He’d planned on securing the ship, making sure that the balloons were safe and not punctured, emptying the boiler, clearing the ash from the firegrill, and ordering more coal to be brought aboard.

  “You know where that beast fell,” the prince said. “I want you to find it and bring it back so that I can show everyone what I’ve done.”

  “Sire?” was all that Ford could say.

  “Get the beast, bring it to the castle, and we’ll have a triumph,” the prince said tartly. “Then everyone will be able to see what I’ve done.”

  “Surely, your word is enough —”

  “And then I’ll have it gutted and stuffed,” the prince continued, ignoring Ford’s words. “Perhaps we can eat the meat, Mother and I. I’m sure dragon meat conveys strength and health.”

  “It was the wyvern we hit, sire,” Ford reminded him gently. He’d had enough time to reflect that the only way to treat this prince — his future king — was very carefully.

  “I know what I hit, captain!” the prince growled. “And it’s your job to make sure that everyone on this ship, everyone in this kingdom, knows it as well!”

  “As you say, your highness,” Ford replied. He glanced toward the ground below and said, “If you’ll excuse me, we’re about to land.”

  “Have our pennants raised, break out the victory signal,” the prince commanded.

  “We’ve no masts, sire,” Ford protested, “so we packed no pennants.”

  “An oversight you’ll correct as soon as we make landfall, captain,” the prince said.

  “I could have our ship’s boy man the drums,” Ford suggested, “that’d get everyone’s attention. But I don’t doubt that reports of our encounter have preceded us.”

  “Hmmph,” the prince allowed. “I suppose you’re right. But do get your boy drumming just in case.”

  Ford gestured for the ship’s boy who ran off to grab his drum and, as the drummer beat a steady tattoo, the crew lined the railings to drop lines to hands waiting below and the ship was pulled down into its dock.

  The gantry was raised up from the ground and secured.

  “Sire, yours is the honor,” Ford said, gesturing to the gantry amidships. The prince nodded in acceptance of his due and made for the planks that led to the ground beside them.

  “Behold! I return in triumph!” Prince Nestor shouted from the top of the walkway. His white pasty skin was now red from the sun and covered in soot, and his brown hair was now wind blown and frizzy.

  “I, Nestor, Crown Prince, have slain the wyvern! I have frightened the dragon away from us! Never again shall our kingdom have to fear the air over our heads!”

  Queen Arivik rushed up the gantry and grabbed the prince in her arms, crushing him against her. She was cadaverous, her cheek bones prominent under her bronze skin. Her brown hair was braided around her coral crown.

  “Oh, my son, my son!” she cried. She glared at Ford. “How could you let him get into such danger?”

  “I followed the prince’s orders, your Majesty,” Ford said.

  “I must go tell father,” Prince Nestor said, pulling his head back from his mother.

  “He shall order a triumph!” the queen agreed, turning to head back down the gantry, the prince’s hand clasped tightly in hers. “He’ll have no reason to doubt you now, my son.”

  Nestor reddened and turned his head to catch Ford’s eyes. “You have your orders, captain.”

  “As you wish, your highness,” Ford said with a deep bow. He waited until the prince turned away again before rising upright. At which point, he called to the crew, “Three cheers for the Prince!”

  The crew cheered half-heartedly.

  The prince and his mother mounted the royal carriage and were whisked away in the direction of the castle.

  “Jens, I’ll
need a horse immediately and a wagon to follow,” Ford said. “Secure the ship, see to the men and then find me.”

  “Aye sir,” Jens said, saluting sharply. “And Mrs. Havenam, sir?”

  Ford sighed. “I’ll tell her when I can,” he said. “He’d want me to tell her personally.”

  “Aye sir,” Jens said in a tone which did not hide his relief at avoiding the odious task.

  “Mage Reedis?”

  “Captain?”

  “Are you up for a ride?” Ford asked the purple-robed mage. Reedis swayed on his feet and shook his head. “Hmm,” Ford continued, “perhaps you’d best make use of the bunk in my cabin and get some rest.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, captain,” Reedis agreed, tottering toward the hatchway.

  “Mr. Newman,” Ford said, looking for coal-grimed mechanic. Newman bobbed up beside him. “Will you see to your gear, douse the fires, clear the ash, and get more coal aboard?” Newman looked at him in confusion. “I can’t say when we’ll next need to fly, so I’d like us to be ready.”

  “Of course, captain,” Newman agreed. “After, can I let the men take leave?”

  “Of course,” Ford agreed. “I would be surprised if we’re called to action again this day.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, captain,” Newman replied.

  “I’ll leave you to it, then,” Ford said, moving toward the plank gantry and to the ground below. He could see a seaman leading a pair of horses. He turned back and shouted, “Mr. Knox?”

  “Sir?”

  “What would you say to a ride in the country?”

  “If it’s to see where that devil fell, I’d relish it, sir,” the boatswain returned, moving to follow his captain off the ship. He glanced over his shoulder. “My mate can manage here.”

  “Aye, no problem,” the boatswain’s mate, Needles, called back, easily. “And then I’ll join the others ashore.”

  Ford waved his assent to that and jerked his head to Knox, to hurry him up to the horses.

  They mounted and found the easiest way out of the cobblestoned streets and into the roads outside the city proper.

  “Did you get a good bearing on where the beastie fell, sir?” Knox asked as they eased their mounts into a slow trot.

  Ford nodded and held up a hand, pointing. “That way.”

  “And Mr. Havenam, sir?”

  “Also that way,” Ford replied. “That’s part of the reason for the wagon.”

  They rode for a while in silence before Knox said, “Did you understand what her majesty said, about the king and her son, sir?”

  Ford grimaced. “I’ve heard a rumor or two.” He glanced at the older man. “And you?”

  “There’s many a tale told about the queen,” Knox allowed. “And not so many about the king before he married her.”

  Ford’s lips twisted upwards. “I’d heard something like that myself.”

  “There’s some that say that the prince is not the king’s natural son.”

  “He’s the prince, Knox, and it will never do to forget that,” Ford said reprovingly.

  “Aye, sir,” Knox agreed in a low voice. “I won’t.”

  They rode for many minutes in silence. Captain Ford spent the time thinking. He was the first airship captain, he doubted he’d be the last. When he’d sailed on the sea with a letter of marque from the King he’d made a good living, taking the ships of warring nations and selling them and their cargo at good prices. He’d made a name for himself: a fair rise for an orphan child whose first memories were of the hard life at sea. What sort of money would he get ridding the skies of dragons? Particularly if the Prince would claim them as his own?

  And what would have happened if the dragon had managed to flame their ship? There was no convenient, if raging, sea in which to fall — merely thousands and thousands of feet of thin air. Havenam’s death made it clear that falling from an airship was fatal.

  Ford felt trapped. He couldn’t just give up his ship: he was tied to it. Without it, he was merely a penniless seaman with a few good tales to tell. He’d hitched his fortunes to king and kingdom, he would pay the price or fail utterly.

  Which meant, Ford’s mind reasoned on, that he would have to find a way to work with the prince — who would one day be King — and work well enough that he kept his head on his shoulders and food in his belly. More than that would be asking too much, he feared.

  A whistle in the distance startled him out of his reverie and he looked up to see a train passing by them on the way out to the outlying villages. He waved at the fireman and the passengers who looked out at them. And then the train turned northwards while he continued toward the west.

  They crested a hill and saw a farm not too far in the distance and several fields.

  “There,” he said, pointing toward a valley full of blue flowers. “That’s where it fell.”

  Knox grunted in acknowledgement and the two of them turned their horses toward the valley.

  It was a large valley and the flowers were tall. Ford had expected to see the gold of the wyvern easily and was surprised when he didn’t. He and Knox rode all around the valley, scouring it for any sign of the dead beast. Captain Ford was just beginning to wonder whether the beast had been as injured as they’d assumed — perhaps it had slunk off to some lair and was licking its wounds — and wouldn’t that be the sort of news he’d hate to deliver to the Prince — when Knox called from uphill and waved him over.

  “What is it?” Ford asked when he neared enough for his voice to travel the distance to the other’s ears.

  “There,” Knox said, pointing toward a mound of newly-turned earth.

  Captain Ford peered down from his mount at the mound. He frowned and jumped down from his horse to examine the ground close up. “It’s too small for something that big.”

  “Maybe,” Knox allowed. He glanced around the far end of the field and pointed. “There’s the wagon, maybe they’ve got a shovel.” He pointed to another spot. “And look here, sir! There’s crushed flowers like something large fell and there’s a path from it to this mound.”

  “You think to dig it up?” Ford asked. “It looks like a grave, fresh dug.”

  “Dug today, I’m sure,” Knox agreed. “If it’s not the wyvern, whoever dug this would know where to find it, wouldn’t they?”

  Ford thought about it and nodded. He pointed to the large depression with its crushed flowers and said, “That looks about where the wyvern fell.” With a frown, he added, “But I didn’t see it land. I was too busy watching Havenam’s plunge.”

  “And the best way to find out who dug this is to find out who’s in the dirt,” Knox said.

  “You’re a ghoul, boatswain,” Ford grumbled. With a deep sigh, he added, “But I suppose we’ve little choice, the prince is expecting a triumph.”

  They shouted for the wagon and saw that it was manned by Marder, the lookout.

  “Came as soon as I could, Captain,” Marder said as he pulled the wagon to a halt.

  “Have you got a shovel with you?” Ford asked.

  “I do,” Marder replied. “I figured we’d want to do the honors for the lieutenant.” He pointed at the mound. “Is that him? Did you find him already?”

  “It could be,” Ford allowed with a shudder. “But we found this mound, we don’t know what’s in it.”

  “A body, I imagine,” Knox said. He gestured to Marder. “Throw us that shovel and we’ll see.”

  It took them twenty minutes to dig down to the corpse. It was a woman. She was naked except for a cloth someone had laid over her.

  “We should cover her back up,” Marder said after a moment. “It’s not the lieutenant and it isn’t a flying beast, either.”

  “But look at her,” Knox urged. “See how she lies.” He pointed toward her leg. “Her leg’s been shattered and she was bleeding
when she was put here.”

  “Over here!” Marder called to the others. “There are tracks here,” he said, peering down and pointing toward a line of footprints. “A girl’s.”

  “And a man’s here,” Ford said.

  “They weren’t together,” Knox said. “The grass is recovering from the girl’s tracks, she was here just over an hour ago, I’d say.”

  “Just when we were fighting the wyvern,” Ford noted. He pointed toward the grave. “So who is this person?”

  “Magic got us in the air, sir,” Knox said. “Perhaps magic is at work here, too?”

  “If you look at her legs, she’s injured just about the way the wyvern was,” Marder said.

  “So you’re saying this woman was the wyvern?” Captain Ford said.

  “Maybe,” Knox said. “It would explain the tracks. The body was dragged from that great depression — where the wyvern might have landed — to this spot where the woman was buried.

  “The Prince is not going to accept a corpse for his triumph,” Ford said sourly.

  “Perhaps we should look for poor Lieutenant Havenam?” Marder suggested.

  “There’s a farm nearby, we should go there first,” Captain Ford said.

  Chapter Five: The Young Apprentice

  They were met by a surly young man who insisted that he hadn’t heard a thing.

  “I was in town,” he said. “I’m the apprentice here and my master is resting now. He won’t wish to be disturbed.”

  “Did he see anything?” Captain Ford asked.

  “No,” the lad said, shaking his head firmly. “He was with me.”

  “Was there anyone else who stayed here?” Ford asked.

  The lad’s eyes widened fractionally but he shook his head in vigorous denial. “No one saw anything.”

  “We found a body,” Ford persisted. “A woman’s body. She was recently buried.”

  “That can’t be anyone from around here,” the lad declared. “I’ve heard of no one sick in these parts for the past sennight.”

  “Very well,” Captain Ford said. “We thank you for your time in the name of the Prince.”