On Discord Isle (The Dawnhawk Trilogy)

by Burgess, Jonathon

  The assembled vessels of the navy almost seemed like a floating forest, with each mast a skeletal tree poking up at the belly of their airship. Ship after ship drifted by beneath, each one loaded with enough cannons and crewmen to sail to a far-off land, and conquer it. Thankfully, most of the sailors she saw were taking catnaps when they should have been on watch. Lina knew that would mean the lash if they were caught. Those that weren’t asleep played cards with their mates, or told each other rude jokes and stories.

  Past the harbor loomed the worked stone of the city wharf. More warships sat there at rest, quiet and ominous in the early gloom. Lina caught her breath at the sight of a lone watch officer striding up and down the nearest pier, directly beneath the Dawnhawk’s path.

  The officer whistled as he stalked the pier, clearly bored, not expecting anything unusual. Lina glanced at her crewmates. A few had of them had spied the soldier. Ryan Gae frowned. Tricia and Elly Minel shared a grimace. Rastalak watched with reptilian patience. There was little any of them could do. They passed overhead and the officer stopped his pacing, cocking his head. Lina was acutely aware now of the airship propeller’s whirr.

  He never looked up, however. The Dawnhawk flew past him and beyond the docks into the city. Somehow they had avoided notice. Lina sighed in relief and turned her attention to their destination, blinking in surprise as she took in the great barricades arranged to face the colony. It seemed that Breachtown was under siege, or at least considered hostile by the navy.

  The scents of old smoke reached Lina’s nose as they flew past the first dock buildings. Taverns, brothels, warehouses, and all those structures that were a common part of port life were burned and ruined wrecks. Some still stood after a fashion, charred timber frames jutting out of the ground like a burned matchstick forest. Most were simple piles of ash and rubble.

  Lina peered into the gloom of the colony, Runt sniffing past her head at the air. What happened here? Six months ago they’d passed through Breachtown on their way out of the Yulan Interior. They hadn’t bothered with any subterfuge then. Just flown through in the light of day as fast as they could, keeping their heads down to avoid any stray gunfire sent their way. They needn’t have even worried. The colony had been a chaotic mess, still reeling from the aftermath of an aborted rebellion. Apparently, news of that event had finally reached the King back in Perinault.

  The damage was less severe past the waterfront. A few houses had their windows broken and boarded up. None were ruined by fire. Though few lights burned in any of the houses she saw, they were far from empty. Lina spied a cluster of pup tents laid out in orderly rows across one lawn, campfire coals glimmering red in the dark. Other hints of occupation made themselves apparent. The Royal Marines were certainly present in Breachtown in force.

  Shots rang out in some distant part of the city. Shouts followed them, and then the sound of wooden doors being battered down. Lina frowned. It was a raid, not a cry of alarm at the airship’s passing. Still.

  Lina glanced up to Ryan Gae’s position near the bow. The older pirate watched the city curiously, not a hint of alarm on his rustic features. She glanced about the rest of the deck. Rastalak had climbed the rigging to peer at the human city. Near the equipment locker, Andrea Holt pinched her nose, more concerned about the stink of the aetherite’s spell than anything else. On the port side of the ship, the Wiley twins were seeing who could spit the farthest. No one seemed wary.

  Lina tried to relax. Is it just me? There was little that might happen if they were spotted, at least immediately. The navies of the world had yet to develop an effective countermeasure against the Haventown airships. Cannons were built to fire at other ocean-going vessels. Muskets did too little damage, though every pirate was wary of the stray ball. But the counting house raid hinged on surprise and remaining undiscovered. If the force occupying the town knew the Dawnhawk was here, they’d increase security on the streets to the point that breaking into the counting house would be impossible. And they had come so far….

  Movement up near the bow caught her attention. Maxim slumped and grabbed at the gunwales, coughing. Konrad shortly followed suit. Their arcane mist evaporated. Sarah Lome, pacing in her usual place, noticed. She walked over to them and bent over, asking short, sharp questions that Lina was too far away to hear. All she saw was Konrad, shaking his head.

  Lucian and Reaver Jane had noticed as well. They moved up to meet with the gunnery mistress as she stalked back to them, happily now within earshot of Lina’s post.

  “They say they’re spent,” said Sarah Lome.

  “Tell them that’s not an option,” replied Reaver Jane. “We need that mist.”

  “That won’t work,” said Lucian. He tapped his chin in thought, then shrugged. “It’s still dark out. We should be fine. Let’s push on through.”

  “Are you crazed?” asked Sarah Lome. She slashed a hand out at the night. “We’ve no cover, and the city is infested with Bluecoats.”

  “But what can they do?” asked Reaver Jane. “Point and us and shout?”

  “Yes,” said Sarah Lome. “Precisely. If we’re noticed then this whole plan fails. We won’t be able to sneak in over the counting house long enough to hoist the loot. You know that.”

  Reaver Jane snorted. “Perinese. Please. Let ’em try to stop us.”

  Sarah Lome made a fist. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Sarah,” interrupted Lucian. “We’re already this far in. What else can we do?”

  She stared at him, then shook her head. “This whole mess has been a bad idea from the start. We never should have gotten rid of the captains.” Sarah Lome stalked away back up the deck. As she went, she shot a glare at Lina, holding it until Jonas Wiley let out a hoot of laughter; apparently Nate Wiley had spit exceptionally far.

  Lucian watched her go with a shrug, then returned to where Henry Smalls held the helm steady. Reaver Jane kept her place, narrowing her eyes after the huge gunnery mistress.

  Lina took a breath and looked again to the city. Runt chirped and rubbed his face against her cheek. Great, she mused. Just great.

  The Dawnhawk kept its course for the jungles of the Yulan. They flew over cobblestone streets and narrow, tightly spaced houses. Nate Wiley gave a whispered cry on the far side of the deck and the crew gathered together to peer past his outstretched arm. From the excited, over-loud whispers, Lina discerned that they could see Breachtown Counting House up relatively close now, the goal of this whole trip. Lina realized that she didn’t care.

  A tall, three-story building appeared ahead on the starboard side of the airship. It was square with a bell tower atop the low, almost flat roof. From each of the four corners rose a turret, connected to each other by long battlements. The battlement walkways converged on the bell tower, forming a cross when seen up above. What windows the structure did have were thin and positioned high on the third floor. This could only be the Breachtown Armory.

  Lina peered at the building. The turrets were obvious watch posts, but she didn’t see anyone moving about upon them. At the same time, the Bluecoats didn’t exactly stand out in the pre-dawn dark that shrouded the city.

  Allen tromped up beside her, his boot steps louder than the whirring of the ship’s propellers. The young Mechanist still held the rockfruit in one hand. In his other he had a heavy wrench.

  “So,” said Allen, voice forcibly light. “I was wondering....”

  “Not now,” Lina hissed.

  He blinked. “What?”

  Lina glared at him. “We’re passing by the armory. Keep quiet, we can’t afford to be seen.”

  “Oh,” he said. He peered around into the night. “Aren’t we through the city yet?”

  She glared at him. “What? Look!” Lina gestured out off the edge of the airship.

  Allen leaned over and started. “Oh,” he replied. “I guess we are, then. I was down below helping with the boiler. Then I had to find a wrench for this fruit. Hello there.”

  Lina frowned, then she rea
lized that Allen’s last words hadn’t been directed at her. He was waggling the spanner back and forth in a wave down at someone down below. Lina felt her heart leap in her throat. She leaned over the gunwales to look.

  The Dawnhawk was just now passing the Armory. They were so close that she could see into the nearest parapet turret. As she’d expected, a watch-post was setup within. And in it was a Bluecoat, staring up at them.

  He was middle-aged and a little portly. Lina hadn’t seen him on the approach because he was laying down, napping with a small pony-keg breached next to him. He was awake now, though, and he stared back at the airship above him, giving a small, puzzled wave back to the young Mechanist. Then he scrambled to his feet.

  Lina yelled back at the helm. “We’re made!”

  Those who weren’t staring at the counting house on the far side of the deck ran over. Andrea, Rastalak, Sarah Lome, Tricia, Fat Thomlin, and Reaver Jane all appeared. Reaver Jane drew a pistol after a glance at the Bluecoat.

  “Put that away!” ordered Sarah Lome. “He’s not given the alarm yet. A shot from you and we’re sure to be noticed.”

  Reaver Jane glared furiously at her. “You daft bint, he’s about to sound that damned bell. Do you have some better idea?”

  Sarah pursed her lips. “That doesn’t matter. It’s not like you could even hit him at this distance.”

  Jane bared her teeth. “I’m a better shot than you are, you homely ogre.”

  The gunnery mistress stepped up to Jane, forcing the other committee-member back. “Say that again,” said Sarah Lome.

  “Officers,” said Ryan, voice taut and face wary at the conflict brewing before them. “He’s getting away.”

  Lina glanced back. The Bluecoat was dashing up the parapet walkway for the bell tower at the center of the Armory roof. He wasn’t yelling, but soon the whole city would know they were there.

  “Well, do something, then!” snarled Reaver Jane.

  Lina grabbed for the wrench in Allen’s hands. She missed, snagging the still uncracked rockfruit instead. It felt like a chunk of red stone. Why not? she wondered. Lina reared back, took aim, and let fly at the Bluecoat.

  The rockfruit sailed through the air in a long parabolic arc. Please make it, she prayed. The fruit flew farther than she would have thought, given its heft. Just before the marine could reach the bell tower, it connected with his head in a thump that echoed up to the airship. The marine crumpled to the rooftop battlement.

  Her crewmates all fell silent. Runt chirped in surprise. “I would have bet anything that you would have missed that throw,” said Tricia in an awed voice.

  Everyone watched to see if the Bluecoat would get back up. Lina winced, hoping that she hadn’t killed the man.

  “All right,” said Reaver Jane and Sarah Lome, both at the same time. “Everyone back to your posts,” they said again in tandem. Each glared at the other, then they turned away. The crowd dispersed, sensing the off mood of the committee-members. Lina and Allen watched them go.

  “Huh,” said the Mechanist after a moment. He shook his head and then looked back to Lina slyly. “You know, I’ve got some more of those down below,” he said. “And a half a bottle of wine I saved from dinner last night.”

  Lina rolled her eyes. Runt chirped and wriggled on her shoulder.

  The rest of the flight through the city was tense, but quiet. Lina didn’t hear any more Bluecoat raids, and by the grace of the Goddess no other watchmen seemed to notice them. She relaxed a little once they’d reached the edge of the colony. Sarah Lome and Reaver Jane were still ignoring each other. And they were in the Yulan now.

  Things were more rural at this end of the city. The carefully constructed Perinese architecture gave way to more practical considerations. Also, the buildings were built farther apart, with much more greenery between them. It was hard to tell in the pre-dawn gloom, but Lina thought she saw fields of sugarcane and ordered orchards of tropical fruit. To either side, north and south, climbed the Stormwall.

  The perpetual storm roiled. Lightning flashed in its depths and high up near its summit. For all its rage, though, the Stormwall was tamed here in the Breach. A gentle breeze played about the deck of the airship, and did little else.

  She peered south, marveling at its size. It seemed deeper now, thicker, than the last time they’d passed through. Too deep, in fact. It was taking much longer to pass through than it should. Lina frowned and looked over the gunwales to the plantations below. Hang on, we’re stopping. What’s going on?

  Allen coughed. Lina looked up just in time to see a sack flying through the air at her head. She caught it at the last second, falling back a bit at its weight. Runt chirruped in irritation. When she wrestled the thing away from her face, she saw Lucian smiling down at her.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “Clothes,” Lucian replied. “Part two of my new Plan. Found them down below a bit ago, in the silks we’d taken from that last merchant.”

  “All right?” Lina didn’t like where this was heading.

  The committee-member gestured at the stern, and the colony at their back. “I’ve decided that some of us need to go into the city, make sure things are quiet, and check out the counting house before we strike it tomorrow night.”

  His plan came to her in an instant. Lina looked at him sideways. “You want me to dress like the locals, sneak into the city, and spend all day watching over the counting house? By myself?”

  Lucian shook his head. “Of course not. You’ll have Runt.” He looked at the expression on her face. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’ll send a few more folks in to help you this afternoon. Meet them at that big statue we saw in the park. They’ll have further orders, once I’ve thought up what we need to do next.”

  “What park?” asked Lina, eyebrow raised.

  “The big one we flew over,” he replied. “Right in front of the counting house. Can’t miss it.” Lucian moved past her to the gunwales. He picked up a rope ladder and tossed it over the side. “There you go,” he said. “Time to be off. Now remember, you need to blend in. There’s a disguise in the satchel. Rather clever of me, if I do say so myself.” He abruptly walked away, preventing any rebuttal.

  Lina watched him go. She tried to think of something to say, to voice one of the many complaints she had. But her chance had passed; Lucian was already gone. She glanced at the crew. None of them were even looking at her, aside from Allen. The other committee-members were ignoring each other, and pretty much everything else now. Lina glanced down at the satchel in her hands, and felt her tension return.

  “I could help, if you like,” said Allen, too helpfully, too quickly. “You know, with changing.” He winked.

  Lina stared at him. Then she sighed and moved to the rope ladder dangling off the ship.

  Chapter Twelve

  Natasha pushed the frond of a thick green fern away from her face. She clambered over the plant, hurrying to keep up. Kalyon Mahmoud had few qualms about yanking the rope around her neck if he thought she wasn’t moving fast enough.

  Her noose tightened as he did just that. She coughed and moved faster, tugging at the rope to keep from choking. Soon enough, she vowed at his back. Soon enough. Just get us all back to your ship. Then I’ll show you whom you’ve crossed. Oh yes.

  The Salomcani travelled through the morning jungle in a long column, aiming for the opposite side of the isle from the Goliath, likely where their own ship waited. These raiders were a ragged bunch. So far, she had counted twenty in all. They weren’t proper navy, though; the Sheikdom’s fleet was an undisciplined mob only one step up from the pirates and cutthroats of her own home port. Whether real sailors or merely licensed privateers, they were desperate, hurt, and afraid. Natasha read it in the way they clutched their stolen building supplies, in the glances they made over their shoulders back at the Perinese side of the isle.

  To her great irritation, she’d been too exhausted from her swim to fight them off yesterday. Her father would h
ave berated her for that. She should have been ready for them, should have met them on her feet. The raiders had quickly subdued her, though, bringing her along as they fled from the site of their raid. Eventually they stopped to rest for the night and their Kalyon, called Mahmoud, made all the usual intimidating noises at her. Natasha was their captive now, their prize. She would warm their beds for them and be glad for it. Etcetera.

  Killing him would have been easy, but she restrained herself. Natasha decided to play along while the Salomcani slunk back through the jungle. There was weakness in the Kalyon. Fear. He blustered too hard and crowed too loudly to the dispirited crew about their recent victory over the Perinese. His grip on his men was tenuous, and he knew it. As soon as he showed Natasha his ship, she would kill him and bully those she could into place beneath her. It wouldn’t be hard. Mahmoud had left her hands free. He didn’t even watch her. As for the sailors, they’d be happy just to be led by someone with a spine. She was sure of it.

  That would show her idiot husband. She’d strand him here, then sail back home to teach the mutineers on the Dawnhawk what it meant to cross her.

  The jungle they moved through was much like the rest of the island. Thick mangrove trees rose up overhead, their draping branches impeding her path while wide leaves filled the spaces in between. Already the air was muggy and thick, unpleasant after the clean ocean breeze of the beach. Sweat beaded her forehead, collected on her face, and ran down her neck in rivulets. Her blouse was soaked.

  A faint tremor shook the earth. It sent the trees to shivering and the vines draping their branches to swaying between the shafts of morning sunlight. Natasha caught her balance on a young mangrove trunk to her left. The earthquakes had started late last night, but the tremors were still small and far apart, at least so far. They made the Salomcani uneasy, though so long as everything wasn’t falling on her head she didn’t care. She had more important things to worry about.