by Raven Bond
“Ching Shih sends her love and respect Grandfather, even as I do,” Jinhao replied with a bowed head. They were talking in an old way familiar to them both, a way that outsiders could not overhear. “Your plan for the Emperor is too late, I fear. The Dowager Empress has long-since crushed from him all that remained of human feeling.”
The old man hissed between his teeth at the unwelcome news.
“Then you feel we must replace the line? I dislike having to do that.”
“Perhaps,” Jinhao allowed. “It was while I was coming to relay such unhappy news that I came across another plan that unifies us with the Anglos.” She nodded towards him, “Owen Strong.”
“The Magian?” The old man finally looked at her. “I like his spirit, but I fail to see it.”
Jinhao’s lips made a small moue, as she offered her thoughts to her grandfather.
“He only requires a small bit of guidance, grandfather, and he could be the name that both Han and Anglo would raise up as a shield against any evil.”
The old man grunted in reply. There appeared to be some contention from the Europeans below, something about a correct challenge to legal dueling. Even the Austrian leader was shouting. Jinhao found the English tongue confusing when speakers started shouting at once. Quickly Jinhao told the old man about the Austrian threat of war, and their powerful vibration weapon.
He listened to her report impassively, only stopping her when the Imperial Governor whispered in his other ear. She could see him straighten up at the news.
“It would seem that your intelligence is correct,” he murmured. He straightened the crease of first one sleeve then the other. “Your sister sends that there is a European fleet sailing towards the city, and it is flying the Austrian flag.” He turned, looking at his youngest grandchild, who saw the red glowing in the back of his eyes.
“You understand that I cannot let this go unchallenged,” he said sternly.
Jinhao again bowed her head.
“Of course not, Grandfather,” she answered. The old man’s glance lingered for a moment at her bowed head.
“Do not try to follow me. Your sister shall provide what help I require. That is a command, do you understand?”
“Yes, Grandfather,” she replied, head still bowed.
He nodded in some private satisfaction, turned and ghosted from the room. Jinhao raised her head, looked below and frowned. She had missed something. The officials were marking out the boundaries of a Western dueling circle. It appeared that Owen Strong was in trouble.
Chapter 18
Owen Strong was in trouble.
He’d lost the argument for a regular trial once Mistress MacAllister had raised the ancient challenge. As the accuser, Owen would have to fight. Why the Duke was allowing a three hundred year old law to be played out now, Owen couldn’t begin to guess. Unless Caldwell had an interest as well? Gregg was still attempting to stop it, all gods bless him.
“My Lord,” Gregg bellowed. “The crimes that the woman is accused of occurred under Hong Kong law. She should be tried under the law by the Hong Kong courts.”
“We do not see it that way Inspector,” the Duke said evenly. “We assert that this is an internal affair of the British Empire, and as such it should be dealt with by British laws. I’m sure our peer, the Imperial Court Ambassador concurs.”
The Chinese official spread his hands, unwilling to cause even more of an incident.
“Of course. Inspector you have done good work today, but I perceive you are weary now. Perhaps some rest is in order.”
Owen had neither time nor thought to spare for the argument. If he was fighting, as he knew he was five minutes ago when the Duke had entertained Mistress MacAllister’s ravings and challenges, then he needed to focus on the fight, not to mention get ready for it.
Formal duels were one of the few times that a Magian was required to be naked. Owen suspected that it was so the Magians could show off their sigils like peacocks, but there were two sigils that Owen had no desire for anyone to see, as they would be if activated. Those were the sigil of the Obsidian Order, and the sigil given to him by the otherworldly being. He began to remove his clothes slowly while some Magians in the ducal party laid out the formal circle.
He had just handed his suit coat and cane to one of the Duke’s boys, when a mighty roar shook the very stones of Peachtree House. Everyone crouched down in alarm as a huge hot wind blew over them. Owen looked up, his heart catching in his throat. There was the most magnificent sight he had ever seen. The Dragon rippled through the air, away from him, glowing golden in the azure sky. As he watched, Jinhao’s familiar whisper came to his ear. He never could catch her sneaking up on him.
“There is an Austrian fleet in the waters,” Jinhao said. “He goes to warn them off, I hope. How can I help you?”
Owen went back to undoing his cufflinks.
“Hold these,” he said dryly. Jinhao took them and looked him in the face. “I do not think that you should do this thing,” she pronounced.
Owen gave a small laugh. “I don’t think so either,” he said. “They,” he tilted his head towards the delegation, “seem to have a different idea.”
“But why,” she asked, puzzled.
“Well, I would guess that someone in the government sees this as an ideal way to rid themselves of both a troublesome former agent, and silence whatever deal they may have offered MacAllister there.” Mistress MacAllister had already stripped down. She was currently performing a series of postures and breathing patterns that were supposed to increase focus, much to the attentive regard of many of the males present. Owen was grateful her antics would distract from anyone looking too closely at the sigils on his own naked body.
Jinhao raised an eyebrow at his summation.
“I see,” she slowly hissed. “The British would kill one of their own?”
Owen shrugged.
“I honestly have no idea, but I would offer her an embarrassing deal as well, to try to turn her against her Austrian handlers, that kind of thing.” He slipped off his shirt and stood naked before her, sigils faintly glowing against his torso and arms. He reached out a hand and the boy placed his cane in it. “Well, best be about it then.” He smiled at her a madcap grin.
“Shouldn’t you be doing those postures and things,” Jinhao asked.
“What, those…” Owen replied. “They look pretty don’t they?” He raised his cane, and a dome, almost like a heat haze, rose from the places where the Duke’s people had energized the circle they had laid out.
MacAllister quickly stopped what she was doing, and grabbed her wand from where one of the Duke’s men had tossed it to the ground before he quickly stepped outside the perimeter of the dueling circle.
Owen looked up to where the Duke stood, expectantly. If he was thrown off by Owen’s sudden gesture he tried not to show it. What nearly undid him was Strong’s younger pup catching his eyes just for a moment. Those cold eyes of his seemed to say, “I’ll play your game and then I’ll come for you”. The Duke had reports that Owen was a reprobate and dissolute, but those eyes could have belonged to his father.
The Duke wet his lips.
“By ancient law and custom, Mistress MacAllister seeks to defend her honor on the field of Magia, against Owen, Lord Strong, on the charge of murder. May the Gods watch and render judgment.”
MacAllister began as Owen knew she would. There was nothing subtle about her temperament. A stream of fire blossomed outward from her wand. Owen was ready, his water sigil burned for release. The onlookers were astonished that Lord Strong should employ such a beginner’s counter with the corresponding beginner’s result; when the fire stream met his waterfall, the resulting steam quickly filled the dome, making it impossible for anyone inside or out, to see anything.
Chapter 19
“Do you find the accommodations to your liking, My Queen,” asked Captain de Vega.
They were aboard his sky ship, the Wayfahr, crammed into a basket de Vega had c
alled the Captain’s lookout, on the underside of the craft. As she was sitting in a comfortable chair with silk cushions, and expensive furs around her legs, Ching Shih could not complain.
In fact, she would not, under any circumstances, let a word of complaint exit her lips. It would never do if it were known that the Terror of the Western Isles, the Dread Pirate Queen, was afraid of heights. She kept her hands firmly clenched beneath the furs and gritted her teeth.
“Yes, de Vega”, Ching Shih said crossly, “I am fine, and don’t call me that! How long before we sight the Westerners?”
De Vega shrugged. “It seems only appropriate for the Pirate Queen of the Eastern Seas to have that title. We should sight the Westerners at any moment now, provided your informant’s information is correct. There is a tea that many find most soothing for those unaccustomed to heights…”
“My sister’s information usually turns out to be depressingly accurate,” she growled at him. “Nor can I be cloudy-headed when there’s a battle afoot.”
“True.” Di Vega waved a purple-gauntleted hand. “Nor, I submit, can you be frozen in one spot. To direct a sea battle from the air has never been done before. You will need to move about without distraction.” His eyes met hers, “I have no doubts about Madame’s courage, nor her wisdom.”
Ching Shih laughed, a low throaty sound. “I knew there was a reason that I made you my Second,” she declared. “Very well, bring me your potion. I only pray that Jinhao’s paramour has it wrong about what that vibration bomb can do.”
De Vega started to reply when he was interrupted by the cry of one of the lookouts, “Dragon, two points to starboard! Dragon I say! Two starboard!”
“What is that,” De Vega said crossly. He strode angrily to the left side of the nest. “I have strict rules on drinking while… Madre Dios! He is right!”
Ching Shih was by his side in a moment. Her heritage made her eyes unusually sharp, so she needed no spyglass in order to see clearly. She hissed at what she saw.
The dragon was moving through the air, body rippling like a serpent, shining like molten gold. It was a common mistake to attribute wings to dragons. Their long serpentine bodies did not require them. Ching Shih’s heart skipped a beat. Lohan went to war. That would be the only explanation for him being in dragon form.
“I have never seen such a magnificent thing in my life,” de Vega breathed, his eye on the Dragon. He swung his glass forward of the golden form. Look,” De Vega pointed, while handing her the spyglass. “There are the Austrians.”
Ching Shih took the spyglass, her eyes raking over the Austrian formation.
“They only have one sky ship, a spotter I suppose.” They had six themselves, a tribute to de Vega’s abilities to make raiding from the sky profitable.
De Vega smiled wolfishly.
“And now we shall teach them how foolish that is, as well as whose skies these really are.” He began shouting orders to the crew. The ship slowly turned to take up position behind the dragon.
Ching Shih knew that the spines of the sky ship were really long poles, each tipped with an alchemical solution that repelled the ship from the ground, so that it floated like a cork on the water. She also knew that the ship moved by repositioning the poles so that the ship was pushed along. De Vega calculated the required pole placements in his head, a feat which made Ching Shih admit she was simply an old sea pirate. The future belonged to men like de Vega, air pirates, but for now, he belonged to her.
She quickly stalked around the command nest, all thought of heights irrelevant.
“Signal the other sky ships to follow us in. We’ll attack the fleet; keep them engaged until the sea ships can close.”
De Vega nodded.
“It shall be so, My Queen!”
“And don’t call me that,” she snapped at him.
Neither they, nor their lookouts spied the small craft that detached itself from the Austrian flagship, now moving slowly towards them.
Suddenly a great wave of vibration came sweeping over them. The ship shuddered, stopped suddenly in place. Far below, Ching Shih could see the ripples the vibration device made in the water.
The Golden Dragon set forth a mighty roar which seemed somehow to quell the vibrations. He hovered like a humming bird for a moment, studying the small craft. With another roar, he swooped down, lifting the light boat and its deadly box-shaped passenger.
He ended the threat of the vibration device by the simple expedient of crushing it between two claws, the remnants of the device falling harmlessly into the ocean.
De Vega shouted for the ships to attack, and the Wayfahr dived towards the Austrian flagship under de Vega’s direction.
The flagship was flanked by two destroyer-class ships. All three ships began firing their deck cannon, in an attempt to ward off the aerial attackers. At de Vega’s command, the sky ship began firing back with the new aether cannon, concentrating fire at one of the destroyers. The hot bolts of Magia-fueled fire reached some vital magazine and the ship blew up with a blinding flash.
Ching Shih felt a rush of air, and saw the Dragon streak past them. He grabbed the other destroyer by its main mast and lifted it into the air. At an attitude of a few hundred feet, he let it fall back into the ocean, where it became a pile of wreckage when it hit the plane of water.
The Wayfahr meanwhile, hovered over the Austrian flagship. De Vega bellowed for boarding, firing his aether pistols as quickly as he could. Ching Shih, grinning like a mad woman, was the first over the side, waving the large broadsword that had made her fearsome reputation.
She landed lightly on her feet, beheading one of the grey uniformed Austrians as she came up off the deck. Muttering curses de Vega shot the two that were coming up behind her, then drawing his own rapier, jumped to land near Ching Shih. For long moments there was only the sound of harsh breathing and the ring of broadsword and rapier against boarding cutlass.
Finally de Vega panted, between engagements.
“You know, you are supposed to wait until the rest of the boarding crew can jump with you.”
“Bah,” Ching Shih replied, “Where’s the fun in that?” With a deft twist of her wrist, she gutted her next opponent, inching ever closer towards the raised area that held the bridge. “I want the damned admiral before he slips away!”
As the rest of the boarders jumped over, gradually the way to the bridge became clear. As de Vega shot the steel lock out of the bridge hatchway, Ching Shih kicked it in. Inside, amid the gleaming instruments of the ship’s bridge stood three masked figures. For Ching Shih it was not difficult to pick out the admiral, whose black uniform was covered with gold braid.
She raised her dripping sword to aim it at him.
“I am Ching Shih, called the Pirate Queen of the Seas. I order you to surrender your ship and your fleet before we kill more of you.”
The Admiral stared at the bloody apparition before him. He did not lack for personal courage. He had been born into a military family, and had been chosen by the Priestess of the Sun herself to lead this mission. He knew that the Holy One would say that he should keep fighting, but being a military man, Horst von Stuben could not abide the waste of men and ships that would follow his pointless defiance.
“I surrender,” he said between gritted teeth. “Tell the fleet to stand down.”
“No,” one of the other masks exclaimed. “We shall fight on to victory!” He clawed at his holster. A gunpowder shot rang out before Ching Shih could react. The officer slumped to the floor, Admiral von Stuben raised his smoking pistol in a gesture of surrender. He placed it on the deck.
“Now,” he said. “Perhaps we can deal with the surrender more quietly.”
“Very well,” Ching Shih said. “Communicate with your ships and have them raise a white flag of surrender.” They all winced as they saw the dragon drop another of the Admiral’s ships from a great height, only to have it shatter like scrap iron and kindling as it hit the water.
“I would do so qu
ickly, before the Dragon leaves you no ships to order.”
The Admiral gave orders and signal flags were raised and secret messages sent away.
De Vega prodded the Admiral outside, and they all stood in horror at the remains of the once-powerful fleet. Of the twelve ships of the task force, barely half were somewhat intact. They watched as the undamaged ones tried to save their comrades with the help of the boats and sky ships of Ching Shih’s fleet.
“Mein Gott,” the Admiral breathed.
“Aiya,” Ching Shih said. “Now you can carry back home the message that Hong Kong, that China, will no longer be any European conquest.”
As if for emphasis to her words, the Golden Dragon roared as he passed overhead, making his way back to the city.
Chapter 20
Everyone was startled when the walls, the floor, and even their stomachs began to vibrate. Their attention had been on the duel, even though the only thing visible through the fog-like steam was an occasional flash like lightning.
As quickly as they had started, the vibrations stopped. Everyone was so busy talking about the strange vibration, looking at the walls in askance, that many missed the dome of the dueling circle being released. Their attention was drawn back to it by the cries of the other spectators.
What they saw was the protective circle down, the steam dissipating like morning mist. Owen Strong strode proudly from it. He held out a hand for his clothes. Jinhao wordlessly handed him his pants. Two of the Duke’s servants ran to a crumpled form that lay on the ground. They bent to examine the fallen. After arguing among themselves for a time, they both stood up, and one called up to the Duke.
“She’s still alive, your Grace. We are not sure what has been done to her, but she is breathing.”
The Duke scowled.
“The Duel was to be to the death! Lord Strong, fulfill your duty!”
Owen had just replaced his evening jacket.