Axl thought for a moment. ‘I need to get the ship as close to the shore as possible.’
Lacretia grunted and headed aft to consult with the helmsman. Twenty minutes later the anchor had been raised, and the ship was being carefully manoeuvred closer to the island. Ahead of the ship, a boat had been sent to sound the depth of the seabed, to ensure The Peregrine did not run aground.
The anchor was dropped at a signal from the small boat minutes later, and Lacretia returned to Axl. ‘What now?’
Axl had asked that a table be brought up on deck and he stood at it with a length of parchment. He had set about designing the new ship so that all who wished could visualise his aim. He looked up as Lacretia approached.
‘We need to build a pulley system from here to the island so that we can winch parts of the airship aboard The Peregrine.’ He pointed to a plan he had drawn for a simple a-frame pulley. ‘Take that with you to the island, and build it for me please.’
‘Right away.’ Lacretia took the parchment and went in search of the ship’s carpenter.
❖
Three weeks later with Axl driving the work, the crew had successfully converted The Peregrine into an actual flying bird. All that remained was to fire up the furnace that would in turn heat a boiler. The hope was that the great envelope would fill with hot air and provide the necessary lift.
Below decks, much of the non-load bearing structures had been ripped out to make way for the huge boiler and make space for the storage of coal that had been painstakingly moved from the damaged pirate vessel to The Peregrine.
Hur’al looked at his new ship and smiled, select memories of his younger days as a pirate returning. ‘Lacretia,’ he bawled. ‘Let’s get this bird in the air.’
Lacretia crossed to a hatch in the deck and disappeared below. Coinin, who was standing nervously next to Hur’al, could hear her shouting orders. The ship began to vibrate, and a dark smoke began to belch from the new chimney constructed at the rear of the ship. An hour later the hissing sound of steam deafened all in the vicinity, and a few faces looked petrified. Slowly and surely the envelope began to fill with hot air, and three hours later it had inflated fully. It strained at the guide ropes securing it to the deck. The Peregrine pulled against its anchor, but it had worked, there was a great sucking sound as the ship left the sea, and floated a few feet above the water.
‘You did it Axl! You did it!’ Coinin congratulated.
Axl beamed back at him as Aniol wrapped her arms around him.
‘We aren’t out of the woods just yet,’ a voice behind them grumbled, and they all turned to the sound of Draken’s dull tones. ‘If this thing fails, it’ll be a long way down.’
‘Uncle, now is not the time,’ Coinin snapped.
Draken was undeterred. ‘I am merely making an observation.’
‘Then make it on your own time,’ Jericho said, taking him by the arm and leading him from the deck. Draken glared at him and said nothing.
Jericho returned a moment later. ‘Well done Axl, really well done. We might have a chance of catching Lordich thanks to you,’ he praised.
‘I just hope my modifications will hold up to the strain.’
‘I’m sure they’ll be fine,’ Hur’al said. He cupped his hands to his mouth. ‘Weigh anchor. Helmsman set a course for Pin’r.’
The helmsman spun the wheel that in turn altered a new set of rudders that Axl had added. He designed them to channel the air and guide them, while a rotating blade provided forward movement. This ingenious addition was powered by a series of wooden cogs. If power failed, it could be turned by hand instead of steam.
With a clanking, the anchor was raised, and Axl released a lever that started the cogs that drove the blades. Almost immediately, the ship lurched forward, and they were off.
‘Let’s get some height on this thing!’ Hur’al ordered.
More coal was shovelled into the furnace, and the ship began to rise, leaving the island far behind. At this rate, they would make Pin’r in considerably less time than by sea.
❖
Axl had done his job well, and the ship held up to the strain even through a ferocious storm they encountered the second day into their trip to Pin’r. The ship was tossed around, and he and many of the other non-seafaring folk were left seasick.
Pin’r was in sight, a large group of islands far from the coast of Lushan. It appeared as a dark smudge on the horizon, and as they neared, Axl had begun to release air slowly from the envelope that held them aloft. After a time it was obvious to all that they were losing altitude and soon they would be able to land.
Axl had catered for this too. During their flight, he had instructed the crew to build landing skis attached to struts on the bottom of the vessel, and this would permit them to land safely. He felt it was better that they touch down on solid ground rather than in water since their sails had all but been replaced by the leather patchwork envelope towering above them.
An hour later they were coming in for land. Everyone was tense and nervous. This manoeuvre had never before been performed, even experienced sea pirates preferred to throw an anchor and hope it would stop them in mid-air. There was a chance that the ship could roll and crush upon its own weight and catch fire from the furnace, so the furnace door had been bolted shut and most of the steam vented. Now all they could do was pray to Rindor.
At their approach, a garrison of men had gathered outside of a fortress of grey stone, built on a craggy hilltop. Fully decked in armour, they had weapons at the ready. Any experience these men may have had with flying ships would otherwise have been hostile.
Narrowly missing a row of stone houses built below the hill, the ship landed with a great creaking and a solid thump. It rose a few feet into the air and skidded along on its skis until the anchor was thrown. A few heart stopping moments later, it found purchase and the ship halted.
A handful of children peered at it warily from the windows of their homes, and residents of the village closed shutters against the supposed invaders.
While Axl maintained the flow of heat to the envelope, Jericho gathered the remainder of his men and accompanied by Coinin and Aniol they clambered down the side of the ship to greet the island’s defenders.
The island itself was enormous, similar in size to Rosthagaar. Known for its sheep and cattle farms, it was the dominant exporter in the kingdom, supplying all of the outlying lands and even shipping livestock to the New World.
Although the island was windswept and mostly featureless, its grasses were so luscious and sweet to the animals that the residents accepted it as their home and did their best to make it such.
Armoured up, and with a flag bearer beside him, Jericho marched forward to greet the Captain of the garrison.
A solitary figure on a horse cantered down the slope of the hill to meet the newcomers and ascertain the reason for their arrival. A minute later, the white-cloaked figure, a Captain, halted her ride and dismounted. Upon seeing General Jericho and The Brotherhood of The Wulf standard, she saluted and dropped to one knee, her hand held out. Jericho took the hand.
‘General, I offer my life in your service,’ she said.
‘And I accept it. Rise, Captain,’ replied Jericho.
The Captain rose, embracing Jericho briefly. ‘Dalia, I thought you’d been shipped to the Bad Lands with Cru’ne?’
‘I was,’ she said, ‘though they brought me back some months ago when Colonel Rogle fell off the battlements, inebriated.’
Jericho shook his head. ‘Such a shame. That man had too much misery for one man to bear alone. Excuse me a moment; I need to introduce you to someone.’ He turned to signal Coinin waiting for him with his men not too far away. He beckoned, and they approached.
‘I thought you were pirates coming to invade,’ said Dalia as they waited for the new arrivals.
‘Be glad I wasn’t. However, I am impressed with your readiness.’
‘Thank you.’
At the sign of approaching
footsteps, Jericho swung his arm grandly in Coinin’s direction. ‘Captain Dalia, may I present Curator Coinin Wulf.’
Dalia looked shocked for a moment. She removed her helmet, and long fiery red hair tumbled about her shoulders. She again dropped to one knee and held out her hand. ‘Curator, I offer my life in your service.’
Coinin took the hand, familiar with the ritual. ‘May your service be pure of heart and for the good of The Brotherhood. Please rise, Captain.’
Dalia rose and still appeared to be shocked. She was humbled that the Curator would visit her island and felt a deep sense of honour.
‘But what of Curator Menin?’
‘Archmage,’ replied Jericho.
‘Oh, of course. News travels this way slowly,’ said Dalia and then looked sad, for that meant Orodor had passed from this world to the next. ‘What brings you to our island, Curator?’
Coinin studied the tall, grey-eyed, forty-something woman for a moment. ‘I don’t think this is the best place to discuss the matter. Perhaps we could convene at the fortress?’
‘By all means, yes.’ Dalia tipped her head favourably.
‘Will there be room and food for all?’
‘Of course, Sir.’
‘Very well. Will you send word to the ship that all who wish it can join us in the fortress?’
Jericho clicked his fingers and instructed the flag bearer to give those onboard the news.
❖
Months at sea had ingrained dirt and salt into his very pores, and Coinin was happy to be able to scrub himself clean in a warm bath. A change of clothes had been provided, and he felt a little more human.
Since arriving on the island he had been shown a degree of respect he had only known at the temple, and he was happy to know that even in outlying provinces his authority was to be respected.
After his bath, the shore party met in a small dining hall. It was an austere room, functional and dull, yet it served its purpose. High windows let in enough light to see by that candles were not necessary. They enjoyed their meal, the best the island could offer. It was mostly mutton, cabbage soup, and thick crusts of bread.
Hur’al and the ship’s crew politely refused to attend the gathering, preferring to stay onboard.
Aniol and Axl sat together and enjoyed some quality time, something they had missed over the past two weeks. Draken sulked quietly in one corner of the room while picking meat from his teeth.
Dalia was deep in conversation with Jericho, nodding at all the right moments and laughing heartily as he told one joke or another.
Soon the food was being consumed hungrily and satisfyingly. After sea rations, what had been laid before them was delightful, if only for the change.
Coinin stood and knocked a tankard on the thick oak table for attention. The silence was almost immediate, and eager eyes looked to him.
‘May I start by thanking Captain Dalia for this excellent meal, and for her hospitality at such short notice? I am honoured. Though now we must discuss the reason for our visit. I trust this room is secure?’ Coinin began.
Dalia nodded politely that the room was indeed secure.
‘Good. Our mission is to locate and bring to justice Lordich Secracar.’ Coinin witnessed a confused look spread across Dalia’s face and continued nonetheless. ‘This dark wizard has vowed to destroy The Brotherhood, and it is our sworn duty to stop him. However, there is one more task we must complete. This warlock has abducted my brother, General Wulf, and is holding him captive. Our obligation is to rescue him also, except we need your help to do so.’
‘How may I be of service, Curator?’ Dalia asked.
Coinin nodded to Jericho that he should take over, and took his seat.
‘Our number is few; we have suffered casualties along the way. We have lost good men and women in our pursuit of this man. We need as many men as you can spare, and fresh armour and weapons so that we can take the battle to this former brother,’ Jericho finished.
Captain Dalia stood and faced her guests. ‘This island can function with just five men. You may have as many men and weapons as you can cram into that flying ship of yours. Although it may not be as many as you’d hope with the additional space needed for extra supplies. Tell me how many you can carry and they will be yours. I do have one request, though.’
‘Yes?’
‘I wish to join you on this quest.’
‘What of the island?’
‘I will leave the most experienced officer in charge. He is more than capable,’ Dalia reassured.
Jericho looked to Coinin who nodded his agreement. ‘Then it is settled. Tomorrow we leave for the pirate stronghold.’
There was not much left to say or do after that, and Coinin was shown to Captain Dalia’s quarters.
‘You may bed down here for the night, Curator,’ she told him.
‘Whose room is this?’ Coinin replied.
‘It is mine.’
‘I cannot take your room, Captain.’
Dalia looked a little affronted. ‘I would consider it an honour.’
Coinin looked to Aniol who was nodding furiously at him. ‘Very well; it is very kind of you, and I accept graciously.’
Dalia smiled warmly. ‘I will bid you goodnight then.’
After Dalia had departed, Coinin turned to Aniol. ‘You can go and get some proper rest too. You will not sit out here all night.’
‘But I—’
‘No buts, do as I say. I need you fresh in the morning. A garrison of soldiers surrounds me. I am in safe hands. Now go.’
Aniol pursed her lips and strode away. She knew exactly to whom she was headed.
Coinin shook his head and opened the door to Dalia’s chambers. It was plain and functional also, with only a few feminine touches around the room. Fresh cut flowers on a high windowsill and an unfinished cross-stitch lay on a dressing table. He picked it up and studied the design in the low candlelight. It was in the shape of a heart, and within, two sets of initials. One he suspected belonging to Dalia. This must be a piece made for her beloved, he thought.
He replaced the item carefully and studied a simple bookcase. Three books sat gathering dust. ‘The Function of Armour in Warfare’, ‘The Passage of Time’ and ‘Mylarks Rumblings’.
He had never heard of any of those books, so he left them and lay down on Dalia’s bed. It was soft and pleasant, and almost immediately he fell asleep.
THE PIRATE STRONGHOLD
The crew of The Peregrine waved goodbye to the Pin’r islanders. They had left early in the day after spending time loading new supplies aboard the ship. The Peregrine was heavier than it had been before they arrived. Nevertheless, Axl had squeezed every bit of lift from the envelope as possible, and they were sailing high and free. He had insisted that they double up on the ropes holding the bladder to the ship and he had, with the aid of the village blacksmith, reinforced the connection between the air sac and the boiler air pipe.
The ride was pleasant, the motion calmer than that of the sea, although the breeze was colder at height and the crewmen had to be vigilant to keep the rigging free of ice.
Several days into their journey, Coinin, Hur’al and Jericho were crammed into the small Captain’s cabin where a fire took the chill from the room. They were poring over a map drawn by Axl a week ago, on Hur’al’s guidance, that depicted a rough drawing of the pirate stronghold.
The stronghold combined a horseshoe-shaped harbour and a smaller central islet. Defensible in design, there was only one way into the inner sanctum for regular ships. Airships had free access and the ability to float down into the bay.
Hur’al pointed to the centre of the cove on the map. ‘This islet houses the main headquarters for my former brethren. The Pirate King Mathius Thuun resides in a secure keep. Within the cliff walls surrounding it, the pirates have cut dwellings into the rock for their families. It’s all quite organised for a bunch of murdering, thieving scum.’
‘How big is this place?’ Jericho asked.
‘Large enough for several flotillas of ships.’
‘That could pose a problem if we have to hunt for Marrok or Lordich there.’
‘Not necessarily. Lordich, I am certain, will be secreted in the main hall of the King.’
‘You expect us to sneak into the headquarters? It was bad enough seeking out the stronghold, but that is sheer madness,’ Coinin objected.
‘I don’t see how. Pirates pay a monthly tithe to the King from their spoils. We only need to dress and act the part; we have an airship so will fit right in. We will need to offer a tithe, and after that, we will have nearly free reign of the headquarters to seek them out.’
‘And then what? We can’t fight a whole army of pirates.’
‘We wait for them to leave, follow their ship, and capture Lordich away from the others.’
‘Waiting could take months,’ Coinin groaned.
‘I’m not sure about that,’ Jericho said. ‘Lordich has a plan, and I don’t think it means staying amongst pirates forever. He has a goal and a reason for taking your brother. I believe that this is the best chance we have of stopping him.’
Coinin’s eyes met the General’s. ‘I hope you’re right; we haven’t had much fortune so far.’
‘Too true, yet I have a feeling our luck is about to change.’
Hur’al got to his feet. ‘We have a lot of preparations to make, not least making this ship look like a true pirate ship and decking the men out in garb befitting my former brethren.’
‘That should be easy for you,’ Jericho remarked.
‘Well, my past certainly gives us an edge. There is a particular way a pirate must behave. I’m not sure if we have enough time to show your men how to pull it off.’
‘My men are the finest warriors in all of Rosthagaar. They have, before now, indulged in their fair share of subterfuge, and are masters at the art of disguise.’
The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 57