Dead Dukes Tell No Tales

by Catherine Stein

  “I’ll be right out,” Sabine called.

  She slipped into the little black dress Effie had designed. Functional hooks, laces, and buckles ornamented the bodice, and the skirt had useful slit pockets, but it was otherwise entirely unlike Sabine’s usual style. Low cut with tiny cap sleeves, it left swaths of skin bared to onlookers. All her worst scars were visible, as well as the top of her chestplate, inviting rude stares and ruder questions. She’d had no intention of ever wearing it in public until she’d worn it in front of Cliff.

  He’d gaped for a moment, then grinned at her, eyes shining with undisguised lust, and said, “Damn, Sabine, you’re the sexiest fucking pirate who ever lived.”

  She was now reconsidering her fashion choices.

  Sabine pulled on a pair of dark gray hose—the skirt only barely hit mid-thigh—and her usual rugged boots, then headed for the deck. Cliff stumbled after her, unable to walk and button a shirt at the same time.

  “Ah, Capitaine!” Jules called. “Come! See!”

  Sabine and Cliff hurried to the rail where the navigator stood with Lola, holding her tight as she peered down at something.

  “At last we have been able to maneuver through these mountains and reach your coordinates. We were puzzled that the numbers had led us to this place of nothing, but then as we flew closer…” He gestured for them to look over the rail.

  Sabine stepped beside Lola and followed her gaze down.

  “Bits of wall!” Lola announced. “There’s a secret city in the jungle!”

  Sabine stared. There below her, in a saddle between two rocky peaks, evidence of a by-gone civilization poked through tangles of greenery. Her eyes traced the overgrown structures. A wall here. A corner of a building there. Terraced slopes, carved from the hill by human hands. A city, once alive, now ravaged by the forces of time and nature. It took her breath away.

  “Jesus,” Cliff swore. “That’s your map. How did he ever find this place?”

  “I don’t know. But we need to go down there.” A strong gust of wind buffeted the ship. “I don’t think we can land.”

  “No,” Jules agreed. “Nor can we hover for long. The wind is picking up and the sky in the distance is not as fair as that above us.”

  “We’ll have to go now. Only Hartleigh and myself. The rest of you remain with the ship. Circle nearby and watch Lola. I’ll need a signal flare, tools for digging, and a bag of provisions. We may be some time, trying to walk through all that vegetation.”

  The clouds had already thickened by the time Sabine and Cliff stepped off the cargo hoist and into the ruins. Sabine unfolded the map and checked that her sword hung properly at her hip. She’d need it to cut through any particularly obstructive plants. Cliff adjusted the small bag of provisions he’d slung across his body.

  “Here goes nothing,” he said.

  They started off, side-by-side, heading for a high point where they could survey the area and locate their position on the duke’s treasure map. Cliff stepped carefully, watching the ground as he walked.

  “You should have a specialist look at your eyes,” Sabine suggested. “A biomechanologist, perhaps.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t think you see straight, even with the glasses. You tilt your head frequently, and you walked straighter when wearing an eyepatch. Maybe it’s not something fixable, but it can’t hurt to try.”

  “Are you saying you don’t like me clumsy?” he teased.

  “Actually, I love you just the way you are, but I wouldn’t be upset if you were able to make small changes that could make your life easier.”

  He hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her in for a sudden kiss. “I will never forget that you first said you loved me on a mountain top in the Andes with a sword strapped to your waist. It’s the most romantic thing I can imagine.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Mmm. And you probably love that too.”

  She did. She let him sneak one final kiss, then paused to orient herself with the map.

  “Here. This looks like that steeply terraced section off to the right. Which makes that bit of wall ahead of us this.” Sabine jabbed a finger at the map.

  “I agree. Which means that other section of wall…” He pointed. “Is here.” He dragged his finger over the paper.

  “Putting the treasure ahead and a tiny bit to the left!”

  Sabine raced through the bramble, leaping from high areas to lower ones, matching landmarks to the lines on the map as she ran. Cliff crashed noisily through the undergrowth behind her, occasionally swearing, but never giving up. She loved his awkward stumbling. She loved his determination to keep working at tasks that didn’t come easily to him. She loved every damn thing about him, and the thought that she got to keep him forever made her dizzy with glee.

  Or maybe that was the altitude.

  “Not long now.” She slowed, checking the map carefully against the ruins surrounding her. “Follow this wall here.” She drew her sword and hacked away at some branches clogging her path. “Then we should be able to climb down.” She hopped over a wall to the ground below, twigs snapping beneath her boots.

  Cliff landed beside her and leaned over her shoulder to look at the map. “So our treasure should be…” He scanned the area, one finger extended, then suddenly froze. “Well, look at that. Nineteen hundred and two. Someone left us a convenient date.”

  Sabine ran to the wall where the date had been carved, her whole body shivering with excitement. “This is it! This is the X.” She examined the ground at the base of the wall, kicking aside bits of rock and stick with the toe of her boot. “Time to dig.”

  Cliff opened the bag and produced a pair of spades, handing one to Sabine. They knelt, plunging the trowels into the earth, laughing and exchanging smiles as they worked.

  “No wonder you like treasure hunting,” Cliff said. “This is like being a kid again, digging on the beach, hoping to turn up the shiniest rock, or maybe even a penny that someone once dropped.”

  “It won’t be so fun once we’ve been digging for forty-five minutes with no results.”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic.” Cliff thrust his spade deep, and it clanged on something hard. “That sounded like metal.”

  Dirt and leaves flew as they tore into the earth, uncovering the object concealed beneath. A square metal box emerged, speckled with rust spots, but whole and sealed. Cliff wedged his trowel beneath it and levered it loose. Sabine grabbed for it, lifting it out and setting it on the ground between them.

  “Would you like to do the honors, Duke? After all, it’s going to your daughter.”

  “You should open it,” Cliff replied. “You began the quest. You should finish it.”

  Hands trembling, Sabine unfastened the latch on the front of the box. She took a deep breath and lifted the lid.

  For a moment, they both stared at the contents, dumbfounded.

  “Son of a bitch!” Cliff swore. “If the bastard wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him! Another clue? After all this?”

  Sabine removed the single piece of paper from the box and unfolded it, hands still shaking, though now with anger and frustration. Her eyes swept over the paper. Pictures, not words jumped out at her. Diagrams. Carefully numbered and labeled.

  “Oh!” Her heart buzzed in her chest as her pulse jumped. “Cliff, this is it!” She spread out the paper in front of him. “It’s not a device, it’s a design! These are the plans for creating the Heart of Ra. Everything. Measurements, diagrams, lists of all necessary parts. We can make two—for Lola and for me!”

  Cliff embraced her, crushing the paper between them. “My God, Sabine, we did it! We’ll hire an engineer, work with the best biomechanologists in the world. We’ll make both my ladies indestructible.”

  She pushed him away and carefully smoothed out the paper. “Not if you ruin the plans, we won’t.” She gently refolded her treasure, unlaced her bodice, and tucked the paper into a special hidden pocket. Effie thought of everythi
ng. A quick retying and she stood up, brushing the dirt from her skirt and trousers. “Bring the box. Peculiar as Hartleigh was before you, he might have meant that to be important, too.”

  Cliff collected the spades and stashed them away before picking up the box and rising himself. “Looks like a wholly ordinary box to me, but can’t hurt to be safe.” He kicked the loose dirt into the hole. “It’ll be obvious someone dug here, but since this place doesn’t seem to get many visitors, I don’t think anyone will care.”

  “Who’s going to come here except to study the ruins? They’ll be digging anyway.”

  “Good point.” He put the box in his right hand and held out his left to her. Sabine twined her fingers with his. “Let’s hike back up to higher ground and signal. I can’t wait to show Lola.”

  Sabine looked up to the sky. “Just in time, too. The clouds are getting thick and that definitely looks like rain.”

  The trek back up took more effort than their wild run down to where the treasure had been buried, but Sabine’s heart was so light that the burning in her muscles felt glorious. She scrambled up to the top of a wall and set her flare. Her ship would be here in no time. In a week, they’d be home. They would still have to consider the problem of Redbeard, but in England they would be safe. Especially after they reported all they knew about Barton and his Bandits to the authorities.

  Sabine found herself a comfortable spot and sat down beside Cliff, leaning on his shoulder, happy simply to be with him. Pirate partner, lover, beloved.

  A metallic grinding noise above made her look up. Out of the clouds dropped the most warlike balloon she could have envisioned. The envelope was red as blood. Giant thorns protruded from all sides of the metal creature that hung below. A pair of enormous pincers jutted from the front, and a barbed tail swayed behind. As the landing craft drifted down, the thorns opened, sprouting three pairs of segmented, insectoid legs that settled on the ground. The tail rose, then stabbed deep into the earth, anchoring the balloon in place. The scorpion’s snapping claws spread apart, making way for a tall, swaggering man with a long white beard. Three hulking men followed, swords at their hips and malicious grins on their faces. They spread out to flank their leader.

  “Ah, my wayward daughter,” Redbeard said, baring his perfectly reconstructed teeth. “So good of you to lead us to the treasure.” He drew a revolver. “Please hand it over, or I’m afraid your darling duke will meet his end here on this lovely mountain.”

  49

  Cliff was moving before the pistol even swung in his direction, scrambling to the top of the wall, treasure box in hand. Behind the wall, the ground fell away, a craggy slope of eroded terraces and broken rock. He dangled the box over the edge. Droplets of rain splashed him as the sky darkened.

  “You shoot me, this tumbles down the mountain with me, and you’ll never see it again,” Cliff threatened.

  Redbeard studied him with narrowed eyes before lowering the revolver to point at Sabine, who stood on the ground below, sword in hand.

  “And if you shoot her, I throw it, then kill you.”

  Redbeard gave a slow, disappointed shake of the head. “Your lover thinks he’s clever, daughter. You can’t help but chase the clever ones, can you?”

  “How do you get Sabine to spread her legs?” taunted one of Redbeard’s goons.

  “Let her catch you reading a book!” chortled the man beside him.

  “Unfortunately for the two of you, it doesn’t work if you’re holding the book upside down,” Sabine retorted.

  Redbeard motioned to the two men. “Go get him.”

  As the men came at him from both sides, Cliff inched along the top of the wall, mind racing, considering his options. The rain came down harder and the wind whipped at his clothing. He glanced to the sky, but saw no sign of Sabine’s ship. His foot skidded on a patch of wet moss and he teetered.

  “Stop!” Sabine shouted. She took a deliberate step forward. “I’ll make you a deal. You let us go, unharmed, and we’ll give you the Heart of Ra.”

  The two goons slowed, looking to Redbeard for instructions.

  Cliff let the box slide down to his fingertips. “Might want to listen to her. The rain is making things slippery.”

  Redbeard’s men froze, glancing at one another. One of them shrugged. Redbeard remained unflappable.

  “You’re bluffing, daughter,” he sighed, sounding so much like a disappointed parent that Cliff shivered. “You wouldn’t give up a treasure so easily. Not after all you’ve done to find it.”

  Sabine took another step forward. She kept her body at an angle, the left side closer to her opponent. She was primed for attack, but her chestplate couldn’t protect her from the power of that revolver.

  “He means more to me than the Heart. Let us go and we’ll hand it over.”

  Redbeard smirked. “Thank you for clarifying. Grab him.”

  Cliff shuffled along the wall, but the two men were converging quickly. He could stall no longer. He glanced down at the precipitous slope behind him, then back to Sabine. The men lunged. Cliff took a deep breath and jumped.

  Sabine looked back just in time to glimpse colliding bodies toppling over the wall. A scream of helpless terror echoed from the mountain peaks, only to be drowned out by the sharp bang of a nearby thunderclap.

  “Cliff!” His name tore from her throat. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him. He’s alive. He’s well.

  She willed it to be true. To believe anything else would render her unable to function, and she wouldn’t allow that to happen. Cliff had given her time and removed two enemies. He needed her to defeat the others. Somewhere in the skies above, Lola needed her.

  Another clap of thunder shook the air, making Sabine look up. The rain was steady, but not a downpour, and the clouds weren’t the heavy gray of a thunderstorm. Her stomach turned over. Cannonfire. Redbeard had allies in the sky.

  “You have a high-altitude ship,” she guessed. It explained how he had followed her so stealthily. She rarely flew more than a mile high. A ship that could conceal itself high in the clouds could watch from above, especially with good telescopes.

  Redbeard grinned that horrible, smug smile she’d come to despise. That smirk of condescension. The tyrant, sneering at his inferiors. The silent lackey standing at his shoulder mimicked the smile, though not as effectively.

  “I do. Exquisite vessel. Enclosed, pressurized deck. Painted a mottled white and gray to blend in with the clouds. Large cargo doors underneath to release my landing balloon and other devices.”

  Those bird bombs that had destroyed Die Fledermaus. He would pay for that.

  Another cannon blast sounded. “Thirty guns,” he added.

  A bead of sweat trickled down Sabine’s back. Fledermaus Zwei had no guns. She would need to flee. She was fast, especially stripped down as she was. Any ship large enough to hold the scorpion balloon and thirty guns would be lumbering. Sabine’s crew could escape. If they left her and Cliff behind.

  They were too loyal. They would run, but only to hide, waiting for a chance to return and rescue their missing crewmates. Sabine admired them for it. In their position, she would do the same thing. No man left behind. Perhaps she had never truly been a proper pirate.

  Redbeard made a little beckoning motion with his pistol. “Hand over the Heart of Ra, my dear, and perhaps we can make arrangements to spare your friends.”

  “Hartleigh has the Heart. You saw it in his hands.” He is alive, she told herself once again. He is alive and waiting for you.

  Redbeard considered himself too civilized to snort, but his abrupt huff of laughter sounded suspiciously like one. “Now, now, daughter. We are not fools. We both know you would never trust him to carry your treasure.”

  “I would trust him with my life,” Sabine vowed. She had trusted Cliff with her heart, and that was the riskiest of all.

  Redbeard sighed. “I should have put a stop to this fondness for men when you were still a girl. By the time you started trading your fav
ors for piloting lessons, it was too late.”

  “I paid for the piloting lessons with jewels,” Sabine retorted, taking yet another step forward. “It was the sword fighting lessons that I bought with sex.” She lunged and her sword flashed, smacking into his hand hard enough to throw him off balance. Another flick of her wrist and the gun went flying. “They were a bargain.”

  Redbeard danced backward, out of the way of her blade. Still agile for a man of sixty-ish years. The taciturn lackey drew his own blade, a rapier better suited for gentlemanly fencing competitions than battle.

  Sabine parried his attack easily, despite the longer reach of his thin blade. They both regrouped, swords at the ready, watching one another. Sabine shuffled around to put herself between Redbeard and the gun. As long as she could keep the contest to swords only, she could win this.

  Her opponent moved gracefully, and his fighting stance appeared relaxed and confident. He’d had formal instruction. Good. She knew how to handle that.

  She slapped his blade hard with the flat of her cutlass, doing no damage to either him or the sword, but disrupting his technique. His scowl of annoyance made her smile. She repeated the attack.

  The lackey took a step backward, setting himself up to thrust at her with his longer weapon. Sabine simply backed away, edging closer to the pistol. Redbeard realized what she was doing and darted toward the gun, but a vicious slash forced him back. Sabine hadn’t fought multiple opponents at a time since the raid three years prior that had liberated The Kestrel, but she’d learned early on how to fend off two and three attackers at a time. Franz, her teacher, had been a good lover and an even better instructor. Since the day he’d died in the blast that had left her scarred, she’d done her best not to think of him, but today his memory brought her comfort. He lived on in each step she took and each slash of her blade. And she would do him proud.