Revenge of the Mad Scientist (Book One: Airship Adventure Chronicles)

by Lara Nance

  “Through an act of betrayal, the dagger was stolen from us.” Shouts of anger accompanied this proclamation. “Then we suffered. Our crops and animals died. Our children became sick with a strange illness and many died. Rival tribes attacked us and carried off our women.”

  Solmin motioned to Benji who came to his feet. “But the dagger has returned to us, praise God.”

  Benji raised the dagger high over his head to the deafening shouts and cries of the tribe. Benji glanced down at Belle and grinned.

  After several minutes when the cheers had died down, Solmin continued. “Now the Mandagol can return to our former glory. We give the dagger our blood and our promise to serve it. We commit our lives serving each other and defeating our enemies.”

  The cheers broke out again and people lined up at the platform. Each one stepped forward and solemnly took the dagger and made a cut on their arm. Even the children participated, eager and unafraid. Drums beat a steady rhythm as the line of people passed by the blade, giving their blood.

  “Can you believe this?” Rett whispered.

  “The dagger has a lot a meaning to them,” Belle said as the joyful people wiped their blood on a white banner with the Mandagol tribal symbol painted on it.

  When all the Mandagol had given their blood, the real celebration started. The music and drum sounds soared into the night, the rhythm increasing, pounding and intense. People danced around the bonfire, leaping and cheering. The women released their long hair from their braids and the strands whipped around their bodies as they twirled and stomped their feet.

  Soon some of the tribe came to the platform laughing and tugging on Belle and the others until they joined the crowd. The fire of wine in her blood and the pounding beat of the drums led Belle to join in the steps of the women around her. Crazy laughter welled up in her chest as her feet pounded the sand and she spun around, arms in the air. The bodies of the tribe pressed together, sweaty skin rubbing against sweaty skin, she couldn’t escape it.

  She caught glimpses of her companions among the dancers. Even rigid Jasper bounced up and down in time to the drum beats. A wild laugh escaped her lips. She imagined what it would be like if staid, proper Aereopolis saw her now, dancing in abandon, hair spilling wildly around her shoulders. Now this was a ball. She tilted her head back and laughed again, loving the freedom of the moment.

  A hand ran up her arm, sending a shiver through her and she turned. Rett. Sweat beaded on his face and his eyes flashed in the firelight. His body pushed into hers, thrust by the dancers, and he put an arm around her waist to keep her from falling backwards.

  They moved together, circling the bonfire following the flow of the others. She could feel the hardness of his muscles pressed against her breasts. His strong arms encircled her and kept her upright. Their gazes locked and her heart pounded in her chest. The dancers around them touched and kissed each other, celebrating life and the joy of having the dagger among them.

  The heady atmosphere enveloped them all in a sense of unreality. They were in a moment out of time when nothing mattered but the sparks in the darkness, the reverberations of the drums in their veins, and the heat of bodies pressed together.

  Rett’s arm moved from her waist and his hand snaked around her neck, fingertips stroking her skin. He searched her face and then lowered his head until his forehead was against hers. The breath left her chest as his lips met hers, hot and searching. Allowing the kiss was crazy, and she didn’t care. Her arms wound around his neck of their own volition and her fingers stroked the hair at his nape. Other women called to her in approval.

  Men lifted women up on their shoulders and the women joined hands, laughing and pulling each other around. A few couples toppled over and they laughingly rolled out of the dancing mass then hurried away with their arms around each other. Then a few more fell. Belle realized it was a ritual. Those pulled over who fell, were out of the dance and it wasn’t like losing because it meant they could leave and go back to their tents and…

  Panic washed over her. All the fun and abandon left her in a swoop of chilling dread. She pushed against Rett’s chest, forcing him to release her. He laughed until he focused on her face. She ran from the circle of dancers leaving him standing in their midst staring after her.

  She rushed to her tent, heat flaming her face and her breath coming in gasps. Oh, God, what had she done? That stupid dance and the wine. Too much wine. She had let Rett kiss her and she had actually kissed him back. God! What an idiot she was. How could she have let something like that happen? Embarrassment flushed her in a hot wave.

  She collapsed on the bed of pillows and pounded one with her fists. No, no, no! She could not let him hurt her again. She burst into tears. All the despair of the trip, fear for her father, and unresolved pain of the past washed over her in wracking sobs. It took several minutes for the emotion to flow out of her as she pressed her face into one of the pillows and pushed all thoughts of Rett from her mind.

  Chapter 17

  Rett rolled over on the rug and groaned. His head throbbed and his mouth was as dry as the desert. He struggled to sit up, knocking pillows right and left. A pitcher on a nearby table held a cool refreshing juice. He drank from the jug instead of using a cup, letting the coolness run down his throat.

  After quenching his thirst he looked around the tent and it appeared to be empty. Seems Sam had found another place to sleep last night. Ahh, last night. He fell back on the pillows as flashes of the evening passed through his mind. God, Belle! He’d kissed her and she’d seemed to like it at first. What happened? She’d run off with no explanation.

  That kiss was not comparable in any way to the chaste pecks they had exchanged during their young engagement. The kiss last night was hot and full of passion. His body responded to the memory and he shifted uncomfortably. Damn it. Clearly she didn’t want that sort of relationship. But he wasn’t imagining how she’d responded initially. Maybe she still didn’t trust him. Could he blame her?

  He cursed and stood up, weaving on his feet until his head cleared. Then he noticed a lump of clothing on the far side of the tent.

  “Sam?” he called. The bundle moved and moaned.

  “Hey mate, time to rise and shine,” he said as he poured water into a basin and splashed it on his face. “Come on, get up and let’s go check on Gambit.”

  The body beneath the clothes moved and he burst out laughing as Jasper’s head emerged. The butler’s face appeared a bit green and pasty. Rett poured a cup of juice and handed it to him.

  “Thank you.” Jasper squinted at Rett. “Where am I exactly?”

  “I’ll break it down for you, mate. The good news is, you’re alive. You’re in Carabarras, in a tent. Remember?”

  “Ohh.” Jasper put a hand to his head and drained the juice cup. “Dear God! Lady Arabella?”

  Rett frowned. “She’s fine. Don’t worry.”

  They were interrupted when a woman came in bearing a tray of food and a pot of some type of steaming beverage. She gave Jasper a suggestive look over her shoulder and giggled before she left. Jasper turned red under his pasty green pallor, much to Rett’s amusement.

  Rett poured two cups of the hot liquid and handed one to Jasper who finally stood up. Several sashes and filmy women’s scarves were draped around his neck and he had to unwind them to be able to move. He divested himself of the tokens, looking even more embarrassed, and came over to the tray, a little unsteady on his feet.

  “I fear I may have participated in a bit of impropriety,” Jasper said.

  Rett chuckled. “Don’t worry. The whole camp was with you.”

  Jasper looked only slightly relieved and picked up a toasted roll stuffed with meat and took a bite. “That’s hardly reassuring. I can only hope Lady Arabella did not find my behavior reason to cast me off.”

  “You can always get a job as King Benji’s valet.” Rett laughed.

  “I’m afraid such a position would be quite beneath me.” Jasper sniffed. “A butler is hard
ly on the same level as a mere valet.”

  “I don’t think Belle has any intention of getting rid of you. So pluck up, mate.”

  “What are our plans now?” Jasper stuffed the rest of the roll in his mouth, his color a little less green.

  “To find out what these Mandagol know about the citadel of Manu Picca. We need to form a plan of attack.”

  Jasper nodded. “Very well. Lady Arabella will be pleased.”

  Rett studied the older man. Just like Benji, Jasper worshipped Belle. It went way beyond being her butler. He was beginning to understand why people were so drawn to her and gave her their loyalty.

  “Uh, Jasper, can I ask you something?” Rett scratched his head.

  “Yes? What is it?” Jasper picked up another roll and took a bite.

  “Well, it’s about Belle,” Rett said.

  Jasper stopped chewing and looked at Rett, frowning. “Yes?”

  “Look, I did a really bad thing eight years ago leaving her like that. I had no idea what I was doing. It seemed all I could do was run away. It had nothing to do with Belle really. I just didn’t know what love was back then. But now…”

  “You think you’re falling in love with her,” Jasper finished for him.

  He looked at the ground and nodded. “I don’t know what to do about it. Is there a hope she could forgive me, give me another chance?”

  Jasper put his cup down and drew himself up. “If you aspire to Lady Arabella’s hand, you will have to prove yourself to her. She deserves the very best man on the face of this world, if you don’t mind my saying so. If you are not that man, then you don’t stand a chance.” He straightened his tunic, retied his sash and walked out of the tent with as much dignity as a blazing hangover would allow a man.

  Rett ran fingers through his hair. What did he expect? They loved her. No one would be good enough for her—certainly not someone who had given her such disappointment in the past. He wished he’d never met up with her again because it looked like this time he would be the one to be hurt. He tossed back the contents of the cup and found his weapons. Then he left the tent to look for Benji and Solmin. He would busy himself in plans to attack Manu Picca and put Belle out of his mind.

  ###

  Belle walked through the camp in the early morning. She had so many thoughts in her head she couldn’t sleep any longer. Most of the tents were silent and flaps closed—understandable after the revelries of last night. She had slept fitfully with disturbed dreams, scenes of her father at the ball, and Rett as he had looked at her before he kissed her last night.

  She found the grandest tent and assumed it must the one they had given Benji. Two guards stood outside but they motioned for her to enter. She was the kefmam after all. But did she dare go inside? What if Armani was there? She didn’t want to know. There was enough trouble on her plate without adding a budding romance that was bound to end badly for both parties.

  “Belle?”

  She turned around and breathed a sigh of relief as Armani approached her.

  “Are you okay, Armani?”

  “Yes, one of the other girls took me back to her tent when I started feeling dizzy last night. I’m afraid I had a little too much of the wine.” She giggled and put a hand over her mouth.

  “Well you weren’t the only one,” Belle said, touching her temples with her fingertips.

  “But it was quite a celebration. I’ve never been involved in something like that,” Armani said, eyes wide.

  “It’s not the sort of parties we have in Urbannia either.” Belle motioned to her. “Let see if Benji’s up. I’d like to talk to Solmin about how we can get into that citadel.”

  Belle pulled back the flap of the tent and they entered. No lamps had been lit in the dim interior.

  “Benji?” Belle called. As her eyes adjusted she made out the mound of cushions that must be where he was sleeping. At her voice the mound began to move. To her astonishment, two young women squirmed out of the nest and came to their feet stretching their arms and yawning. Benji pushed the pillows away and sat blinking at them.

  Armani’s mouth fell open and then tears welled in her eyes. Before Belle could say anything the girl turned and ran from the tent. The two young women giggled and ran out trailing brightly colored scarves.

  “And just who are your two companions?” Belle asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Benji blinked several more times and then came to his feet. “Well, blast it all, Belle, I don’t really know.” He stared at the flap they had exited with a puzzled expression. “I’m not even sure where they came from.”

  “Just as I was thinking I would not have to deal with this,” Belle murmured to herself.

  “What happened to Armani?” Benji asked as he found his tunic and slipped it on over his head. Fortunately he had not lost his pants overnight.

  “Benji, you’ll have to figure that one out on your own,” Belle said, handing him the sash for his tunic. “We need to find Rett and the others and start making a plan to get into Manu Picca.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Benji pushed his dagger into his sash. “Let’s go.”

  They headed to the tent opening and as they exited, Rett and Solmin approached. A quiver ran through her stomach. She and Rett shared an uncomfortable glance before both looked in another direction. She couldn’t imagine what he thought of her after her behavior last night. That kiss had reached deep inside her, awakening an unfamiliar passion. To him, the kiss probably meant nothing—just a bit of drunken revelry.

  “Come inside,” Solmin said. “I have arranged to have food and drink brought to Kef Benjamin’s tent. It will be the best place to discuss our campaign.”

  They returned to the dim interior and settled on cushions. Solmin lit some oil lamps scattered around the tent. Only a few minutes later, several women entered bearing trays filled with rolls, meat kabobs, and creamy goat-milk butter. Another carried an urn full of a spicy hot beverage that cleared Belle’s head immediately.

  “You said you know a way into the citadel,” Belle said, not wanting to waste any time.

  “Yes. It won’t be easy though. As I said, Manu Picca is carved into the face of a stone wall. But, a few years ago we discovered there were cracks in the top of the mountain and steam rose out of them. One of my men, Gesic, climbed down a rope into the crevice and found a chamber where the steam engines that run the stronghold are located.”

  “So we could climb down ropes and sneak in through the engine room?” Rett asked.

  “Gesic went no further than to see where the crevice led, but yes, for a small number of people, I think it’s possible.”

  Belle frowned. “But then what? Do you think we can find my father and bring him out the same way?”

  “All things are possible, Kefmam. In my mind a small group is the only chance of success. It is certain we cannot attack the citadel successfully from the outside,” Solmin said putting up his hands.

  “But a diversion on the outside could help distract their attention long enough for those inside to find Sir John and help him escape,” Benji said, glancing between Solmin and Belle.

  “What do you have in mind?” Rett asked.

  “Remember the long range cannon I built when we entered the Durbon Mountains?”

  Rett’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I do.”

  “We can convert more of the cannon and carry them with us on camels to Manu Picca. Then while one group sets up a long range offensive, the smaller group lowers themselves into the mountain and rescues Sir John.”

  A thrill of excitement swept through Belle. The plan was dangerous to be sure, but it might actually work. “I think it’s a good idea with the least chance that any of the Mandagol will be hurt.”

  Solmin’s eyes narrowed. “Kefmam, we have been given an honorable quest. Our blood means nothing. We must pay tribute to the return of the blade.”

  Belle didn’t say it, but in her heart she didn’t want to put anyone at risk other than herself.

&n
bsp; “I’ll go in and get Sir John,” Rett said. “Benji is the best person to set up the cannon attack.”

  “Wait a minute,” Belle said. “I’m going in to get my father.”

  “Belle, it’s too dangerous. You don’t know what you’ll be facing in there,” Rett said. When he looked at her she was surprised at the genuine concern coloring his eyes.

  “You don’t know either. He’s my father and I’m going in, end of discussion.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Solmin let out a series of their tribal hoots. “The kefmam is brave and does honor to the blade. She is a true Mandagol.”

  Rett took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, but I’m going with you.”

  “Rett…”

  “No, end of discussion. I’m going.”

  Belle threw up her hands in defeat. It was pointless to argue. Secretly she was glad. Although she didn’t want to place him in danger, it would be good to have him with her. Despite her conviction to be the one put at risk, it was still frightening to think about going into that strange place alone.

  “Alright. How soon can we leave?” she asked.

  ###

  While Benji, Sam and Rett dismantled the airship cannons and loaded them on camels, Belle and Jasper helped the others loading up supplies for the trip. Solmin said it would take a full day to reach Manu Picca. Since they could not leave until afternoon, that meant they would need to spend one night camped out to rest and feed the animals.

  She had not seen Armani since the incident in Benji’s tent. The girl must be somewhere nursing her wounded feelings. Belle decided she’d better find her and smooth over the impact of seeing the other women with Benji or their trip would be filled with tension.

  After asking among the tribe’s women, she finally located Armani in the kitchen tent where meals for the Mandagol were prepared. She welded a large knife, energetically chopping up some sort of tubular root, a grim line to her lips. Belle was pretty sure she saw Benji’s face on the root.