“Who is this Suhail?” she asked me. “An Akhian, clearly—but how did he come to be here?”
I gave her a précis of my dealings with Suhail, from our partnership in Namiquitlan to our chance encounter in Seungdal, and all that had followed after. “Do you trust him?” the princess asked when I was done.
“Yes,” I said. The word came forth without any need for my brain to approve it first. “I do not know his lineage, but he is a gentleman in every other sense of the word, and very brave. I am certain he will help us if he can.”
Hannah looked unconvinced. “Miriam, to reveal your identity to a foreigner…”
“The alternative is to remain a prisoner, or to risk the Yelangese using me as political leverage. But it is a moot point if escape is impossible regardless.” Miriam focused her attention on me once more. “Tell me what you can of this caeliger.”
Under other circumstances—when I was rested, perhaps, or at least had not been subjected to one of the more harrowing days of my life—I might have been able to make a more considered decision as to what I should communicate to the princess, and what might best be retained as a secret. But I was not rested, and my day had been harrowing; and so I sat there in that small, airless room and told her very nearly everything.
The only reason “very nearly” did not become “all” was because the princess remained attentive enough to draw us back to the purpose when I strayed too far into digression. She did not hear the tale of how Jacob and I had discovered the secret of natural dragonbone preservation, nor much of what had transpired in Vystrana. But I told her of Frederick Kemble, the chemist I had hired to continue Gaetano Rossi’s research; of the break-in, which I believed to have been orchestrated by the Marquess of Canlan; of the Va Ren Shipping Assocation, which was now profiting from that research. And I told her of the recent interest in the hunting of dragons, which seemed to have military backing.
“Then they likely have more than one of these,” she said. I knew from her quiet tone that I had just added another few kilograms to the burden of her worries. “It seems, Mrs. Camherst, that you also have a pressing need to speak with the admiral. He must know of this at once.”
I did not contradict her, but neither did I share her enthusiasm for the notion. While it was true that Scirland needed to be apprised of this Yelangese innovation, I did not much relish the prospect of explaining dragonbone preservation to men who were likely to immediately begin planning how to exploit it for their own benefit.
Regardless, it was true that escape needed to happen, for the princess’ sake if not my own. And limited although its range must be, the caeliger seemed our best prospect for doing that.
If escape were to happen at all, it must happen soon. The Scirling delegation had been kept in friendly captivity, insofar as such a thing is possible; the Keongans felt no animosity toward the princess or her people. They only held her because she was their best bargaining chip for getting Waikango back. House arrest had been imposed when the warriors saw the caeliger approaching, because they did not know what it portended, and it continued now because of the Yelangese. “They were reluctant to lay hands directly on me,” Miriam said, when I asked how she had gotten free earlier. The rest of the time, the Scirlings were permitted to move about in small groups—albeit under guard to ensure that no one attempted to slip away into the interior of Lahana.
“There has been no need to keep us under closer watch,” Hannah said. “What good would it do for the men to overpower the guards? They put us on this side of the island because there are so few settlements here, and what few are nearby have had their canoes taken away. We could escape this location, but we would still have no way off the island. They would find and stop us well before we could steal long-distance vessels from anywhere else.”
The caeliger, of course, changed that. Our bad landing would not have inspired the Keongans to believe it was capable of travelling very far, but even if they did not think that craft a danger, the Yelangese most certainly were. Messengers had been sent; soon additional warriors would come and take the princess to a more secure location.
It could not spirit us all to safety, though. Only a few could go; the question was which few those should be.
From the start of her captivity, the princess had insisted upon sharing meals with the rest of her crew. This violated the tapu which said men and women should eat separately, but Miriam had thought it wise to preserve opportunities for conversation with Captain Emery, precisely for eventualities such as this one. The Keongans permitted no fire that evening, but did allow us out of our huts to share a cold meal of cocoanut meat, bananas, and taro paste, which gave us a chance to speak.
The men had spent their time questioning Suhail, much as Miriam had questioned me, and had unsurprisingly lit upon a very similar notion. Under the guise of asking one another to pass platters of food, Hannah and the captain arranged the plan. Four would go in the caeliger: Suhail, for his previous experience and knowledge of hot air balloons; one Lieutenant Handeson, who knew balloons and engines both; the princess; and myself.
I would have argued this last point if I could have. The full range of the caeliger was unknown, but would certainly be improved the less weight it carried. My presence might mean the difference between Princess Miriam reaching Kapa Hoa (which was the closest island outside the archipelago) and Her Highness drowning in the sea. But she considered it vital that my knowledge of the Yelangese caeligers be shared as soon as possible; and so I must go. I could not dispute it too strenuously, not without the Keongans noticing something amiss. They did not speak Scirling, but they could recognize the sound of an argument.
“They are good people,” the princess said to me quietly, as we waited for the moment to strike. It must come soon; the island was falling into dusk, and soon there would not be enough light to see the caeliger’s controls. “I do not applaud their actions, of course—they should not have taken me prisoner. But I have a good deal of sympathy for their position. By all accounts, Waikango is not only a gifted war-leader—a gifted king—but a just and decent man. I would rather have him for an ally than the Yelangese emperor.”
I looked at her sidelong. “Do you intend to speak on their behalf, once you have returned? Despite what they have done?”
She gave it due thought. Unlike myself, the princess was a woman who considered everything before she committed to it. “I do,” she said at last. “There must be repercussions for the ones who kidnapped me; we cannot let that go unanswered. But I think the men responsible knew that they would ultimately be punished for what they have done. I am not held in the same esteem as a princess of their own people, but they have violated proper behaviour nonetheless. Such actions have consequences. They accepted those consequences, for the sake of their people.”
Her tone was one of quiet respect. In her shoes, I do not know that I could have been as forgiving. The Labane who took me prisoner in Mouleen were loyal soldiers of their inkosi, and they knew that by venturing into the Green Hell they risked death, but that did not make me any more charitable toward them. Then again, the Labane had not treated me half so kindly as the Keongans had treated Miriam.
The princess caught my gaze and held it. “Remember that,” she said.
Before I could ask her precisely what it was I should remember, the men sprang into action.
It was not an easy fight. The Keongan guards were all large men, and armed; the Scirlings and Suhail were unarmed, and moreover were attempting to avoid killing anyone, on Miriam’s orders. But they also outnumbered the islanders, with so many having been sent away on various tasks. Nor did they have to achieve permanent victory: they only had to occupy the guards sufficiently that we four could run for the caeliger.
We pounded across the sand toward that distant craft, tipped askew on the beach high above the breaking surf. Lieutenant Handeson took quick stock of the machinery and then all but threw two containers at me. “Quick! Fill those. Salt water is not the best, but—
” I did not hear the end of his sentence, for Miriam had taken one of the containers, and we were already moving toward the sea.
While the two of us worked, the lieutenant and Suhail banged about the caeliger, cursing steadily. It seemed that something had broken, and must be wedged. “A branch!” Suhail shouted as we returned with water. “About this long—no thicker than my thumb—”
The beach was a bad place to look for branches; every tree in the vicinity was a palm. But Miriam and I ran up the slope and began rooting around in the fallen leaves, trying to find one whose stem was of a suitable size. In the middle distance, the knot of men was still deep in their scuffle around the huts. Someone had begun running toward us—a Keongan, by his size—but the engine of the caeliger was going; as soon as we found a wedge, we might take off and leave him behind. My hand closed on one at last, and I sprinted for the caeliger, calling for the princess to follow me.
From behind me, I heard a cry.
The messengers had gone for reinforcements; now the reinforcements had arrived. Two had come out of the trees, and they must have overcome their reluctance to lay hands on royalty, for they had Miriam in their grasp. I stopped dead in the sand, palm leaf clutched in my hand. I could not possibly free her from them, and if Suhail and the lieutenant came to my aid, the Keongan running toward us would stop the caeliger from taking off.
“Go!” Princess Miriam called, her voice more steady than I would have believed possible. Steady, and commanding. “Go! Find the admiral, and tell him where I am!”
To this day, I do not know if it was obedience or cowardice that turned my feet toward the caeliger. Suhail helped me over the edge; I tumbled to the floor, and a moment later that floor swayed beneath me as we left the beach behind.
EIGHTEEN
Over the sea—Something in the gondola—Sails on the horizon—We flee—More sails—The wishes of the senior envoy—The Battle of Keonga
“She expected that to happen,” I said dully, staring up at the web of ropes that held the caeliger’s balloon. “She did not think she would get away with us.”
“I think it would be better to say, she planned for the possibility.” Suhail took the palm leaf from me, stripped it, and jammed it in among the recalcitrant machinery.
Lieutenant Handeson helped me to my feet. “She gave the orders ages ago, not long after we were taken. If anybody had a chance to escape, they should go. The Keongans won’t hurt her, and this way, we can send a rescue.”
Whereas if she came with us, they would move heaven and earth to retrieve her. I wondered suddenly if she had ever intended to get on board the caeliger. It would fly farther and faster with only three passengers—and if we were lost at sea, she would not be lost with us. No, I thought, not that last; she had shown no fear of drowning. But our chances were indeed better without her, even if Hannah and Captain Emery would have preferred to have her away from the Keongans at once.
Of course, any rescue would depend upon our speed. The Yelangese did not yet know that the missing princess was on Lahana, but no doubt they would wonder at the failure of their caeliger to return. Furthermore, the Keongans must assume that we would reach other territory and pass word along to our people. They would move Miriam, and soon.
THE CAELIGER
I rose to my feet, moving carefully in the gondola. Dragonbone might be highly resistant to impact, but its light weight made the whole structure feel alarmingly flimsy. “What can I do to help?”
The answer was, very little. Between the two of them, Suhail and Lieutenant Handeson had sorted out the controls; the caeliger did not need three people to operate it. “Ordinarily I would say that flying at night is very hazardous,” the lieutenant said dryly. “But there is nothing out here for us to hit except the sea, and perhaps the occasional gull. So long as we keep a reasonable altitude, we should be fine. You should get some rest, Mrs.…” He trailed off, plainly realizing he had no idea who I was and why I had been included in the escape group.
“Camherst,” I said. We had a brief discussion of our plans; they amounted to “fly toward Kapa Hoa and hope we do not crash before we get there,” which did not leave much to discuss. Then I attempted to bed down, for I was indeed very tired.
There was a straw mat in one end of the gondola that I thought was intended as a place for crewmen to catch naps. When I settled into it, however, I found something else occupying the corner: the petrified egg from Rahuahane. Suhail had untied it from his body while we flew across to Lahana, and it had been overlooked in the crash.
I angled myself to hide the egg from Handeson’s eyes. This, too, was a secret, and one I could yet protect. If the Scirling navy learned there was an enormous cache of firestone on Rahuahane, the princess would not be the only thing they brought home from Keonga. I did not want the island raided for its treasure, and especially not before it could be properly studied.
Fortunately Handeson was busy with Suhail. They seemed quite impressed with the engine, which was, I gathered, a substantial improvement in smallness over the ones to which Handeson was accustomed. I wondered if that, too, had dragonbone components in it. (I later discovered that it did.) I tucked the egg into a coil of rope and then lay before it, hoping I could smuggle it off the caeliger without anyone else seeing. It did not look like firestone—the outer shell was dull rock—but I did not want it to attract any curiosity.
My thoughts would not permit me to rest. It was all too much, and too rapid; our discoveries on Rahuahane had been knocked clean out of my head by the encounter with the princess, let alone my breathless experience riding the sea-serpent. I wanted a moment somewhere quiet to ponder what I had seen, and paper on which to sketch it before the details slipped from my memory. But the gondola of the world’s first truly effective caeliger was not the place for such things, and our flight to obtain a rescue for the king’s niece was not the moment. I lay in the darkness, looking at Suhail’s profile against the brilliant background of the stars, listening to him murmur belated prayers in Akhian. I could not remember the last time I had prayed. I hoped Tom, Jake, and Abby were not too worried for me. Had anyone told them we had been found on Lahana?
And so the hours passed, until dawn came, and with it, sails on the horizon.
* * *
I had risen as soon as the light began to grow, having slept only in the most fitful snatches. Suhail had not slept at all, and looked as drawn and weary as I had ever seen him. He and the lieutenant were growing concerned about fuel; the wind was not entirely cooperating in our efforts to reach Kapa Hoa, and their best guess at reading the Yelangese navigational instruments said we were at risk of falling short. It was a pity, I reflected, that no one had thought to make the gondola watertight, for dragonbone floats quite well. Cut away the balloon, and we might have had ourselves a perfectly serviceable canoe—albeit one without a sail or paddles.
Because they were occupied with the caeliger’s machinery, I was the one who first spotted the sails. “Come look,” I said, breaking into their low-voiced discussion. “Are those not ships in the distance?”
They were both at my side in an instant. “They are,” Handeson said, bright with relief. “We’ll have to fly into the wind to get at them, but that’s better than hoping to make Kapa Hoa. Let’s come about.”
The hope of rescue put new life into our limbs. We brought the caeliger about, its propeller beating against the wind, and made our way toward the sails. Now, with the wind in our faces, I felt our speed at last, as I had not when we flew over the featureless nighttime sea. The engine truly was a remarkable achievement, and although the Yelangese had been partly responsible for putting us into our current predicament, I must own that without their engineering, we would not have come out of it alive.
Even with that speed, the sails drew closer but slowly. I went into the prow of the gondola and peered toward them, as if squinting would lessen the distance between us. There seemed to be quite a lot of them—three ships? No, five. Quite a fleet, to be in thi
s part of the Broken Sea. And the shape of their sails was odd, to my Anthiopean eye …
“Suhail,” I said, loudly enough for him to hear. “Lieutenant. I am not a sailor, nor terribly familiar with this part of the world—but I believe that style of sail is common on Yelangese ships, is it not?”
Once again they rushed to my side, studying the ships in tense silence. Then Handeson swore (proving that a man may be both a gentleman and a sailor, but when the spurs bite home, he is more sailor than gentleman). “Those are junk sails, all right. The Yelangese aren’t the only ones who use them, though. Those might be from Seungdal, or—”
Something was bobbing alongside one of the vessels in that little fleet. A large, ellipsoid shape, which did not seem to touch water. At this distance we could not see the gondola below, but it was impossible to mistake for anything but another caeliger.
“It’s the Yelangese,” Suhail said, in that remarkably calm-sounding voice I had come to recognize as a sign of great tension in him. “And they are coming this way.”
The three of us looked at each other. No one had to put the question into words: would we allow ourselves to be taken by the Yelangese, or would we risk death in the open sea?
“Regardless of the princess’ situation,” I said, “they will be exceedingly displeased to know that we have discovered the secret of their caeligers.”
“Discovered, and stolen,” Suhail added.
Handeson swore once more and lunged for the caeliger’s controls.
To this day, I wonder what the Yelangese thought when they saw one of their own caeligers first approach, then turn tail and run. Whatever discussions took place on their decks at the time, however, it did not take them long to correctly interpret the significance of our behaviour. As we put the wind to our backs and began to fly away with all haste, the second caeliger rose majestically into the air and gave chase.
Voyage of the Basilisk : A Memoir by Lady Trent (9781429956369) Page 27