Plundered Chronicles: Skyblade's Claim (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Skyblade Saga Book 2)

by Robert Dahlen

  “Officers…” Victorie walked up to the guards. “I’m sure there’s been a minor misunderstanding.”

  Annabel gaped at Victorie. “‘Misunderstanding’?” she murmured.

  “My partner--” Victorie pointed at Annabel. “--and I were on an assignment for the Cerindel Navy. We needed to pose as barmaids.”

  “Barmaids?” The guards looked at each other; as they did, Victorie glanced back at Annabel and winked.

  “Aye,” Annabel said as she joined Victorie. “Top secret assignment.”

  “Classified,” Victorie added.

  “Hush-hush.”

  “Eyes only.”

  “So we had to take the tips. If we didn’t, we would have been exposed.”

  “We were already quite exposed in those masques, thank you,” Victorie said.

  Annabel pulled a small coinpurse from her pocket. “This should cover those tips and more,” she said smoothly. “If I may pass this on to this lovely woman, she can get back to work and we can discuss the rest further with you gentlemen.”

  The older guard sighed. “If it gets Maria out of our hair, go ahead.” He lowered his crossbow; the younger guard followed suit.

  Annabel smiled as she stood to one side of the barmaid. Victorie moved to the other side as Annabel held up the coinpurse. “Oh! How clumsy of me!” she said as she dropped the pouch.

  Maria reached down with both hands to catch the coinpurse. Her low-cut barmaid’s top slipped as she bent over, and both guards gaped at the sight. “Now,” Victorie said.

  She spun towards the older guard and punched him in the jaw; he dropped his crossbow as he hit the ground. Annabel kneed the younger guard in the groin. As he sunk to his knees, the pirate grinned at Maria. “Sorry for the trouble,” she said as she sprinted off towards the wharf, Victorie on her heels.

  ***

  “No sign of the captain yet?” Hardwicke said as Big Tom walked up the stairs to the Peregrine’s helm.

  Tom shook his head. “At least it was just the one casing that needed replacing.”

  “Good news for once.” Hardwicke drummed his fingers on the ship’s wheel. “It shouldn’t take her this long to find them.”

  “She could have stopped for lunch.”

  “Lunch?”

  Tom grinned. “As long as she brings back some sauerkraut, I’m happy.”

  “Damn it, Tom. Now I want…” Hardwicke paused and stared towards the wharf. “There’s two women running towards the ship. I think they’re being chased by a barmaid.”

  “Someone forgot to leave a tip?”

  “Wait.” Hardwicke squinted. “Be damned if one of them isn’t the captain.”

  “I think you’re right,” the troll said. “And the other one…”

  “She looks familiar.”

  Tom’s jaw dropped. “I think it’s Brassfeld.”

  Hardwicke groaned. “What the seven Hells is the captain doing?”

  “I guess we’re about to find out.” Tom headed for the stairs. “So much for sauerkraut.”

  ***

  Annabel stepped on the deck of the Peregrine. “Cast off!” she shouted as several glashtyn gathered around her. “Hardwicke! Time to set sail!”

  “Cap’n?” Big Tom said as he reached the main deck. “Did you get the replacement casing?”

  “Aye.” Annabel pulled a sack from her pocket and handed it to Sourtongue. “Get this to Ursel. Tell her to let me know when the repair’s done.” The glashtyn saluted and flew off.

  “So…” Tom folded his arms and glared past Annabel at Victorie as she boarded the airship.

  Annabel sighed. “Get Pilfor. We’re holding a meeting in my cabin in five minutes.”

  ***

  The three glowing pieces of parchment lay on the table in Annabel’s cabin. “What new information do you have on these?” Pilfor said.

  “They fit together,” Annabel said. “They glow when they’re near each other, and glow more brightly when they’re near another piece. There are faint impressions on the paper, barely visible even through a jeweler’s loupe.”

  “And the Svendarans are apparently very interested in these,” Victorie added.

  “I still wonder why,” Pilfor said, “but I was mistaken when I said that the one you took from that Svendaran ship was unimportant.”

  “Leaving that aside…” Annabel tapped the papers. “I have it from a reliable source that we can find the last piece in a duke’s palace on Mezara. That’s our destination.”

  Big Tom cleared his throat. “I take it that Brassfeld sails with us?”

  “She does,” Annabel said, “and if anyone lays a hand on her, they’re going to lose it.”

  “She’ll be in the infirmary again?”

  “Aye. Feel free to post a guard.” Annabel had to hold back a blush as she looked across the table at Victorie, who was watching the conversation impassively. “She’ll be accompanied by me, or another crew member, at all times.”

  Tom nodded and rose. “I’ll tell the crew to cast off,” he said. “We should reach Mezara tomorrow.”

  “Places, then. I’ll be along shortly.” As Big Tom and Pilfor headed out of the cabin, Annabel closed the door behind them and turned back towards Victorie. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Victorie rested a hand on the captain’s arm. “There’s no need to apologize,” she said. “I understand that the rest of the crew still doesn’t trust me.”

  “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” Annabel swallowed. “I wish you could be with me, that you could share my bed tonight.”

  “So do I.” Victorie stroked Annabel’s cheek. “We’ll make that happen someday.”

  Annabel laid her hand on Victorie’s. “Aye,” she said. “And I hope that day comes soon.”

  Victorie smiled. “There’s one other thing I need to tell you about the parchment.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I had a Navy wizard examine it before I left Cerindel. She couldn’t tell me anything of certainty about it, but she did have visions of clockwork and chaos and blood.”

  “Sounds like our last adventure.” Annabel grinned for a moment. “Why didn’t you share this with the others?”

  “It was supposed to be confidential, and…” Victorie scowled. “I don’t trust Pilfor. Not in the slightest.”

  “Neither do I. That’s why the only safe place for these--” Annabel scooped up the parchment scraps and tucked them in her pocket. “Is here.”

  “Mezara, then?”

  “In a moment.” Annabel pulled Victorie’s face down to hers and kissed her tenderly. “Let’s solve this mystery,” she said as they embraced. “Then, we'll find a quiet place and leave the world behind for a while.”

  “And the crew as well, I hope.” Victorie smiled.

  ***

  Barjois was not the most glamorous of skyports. Unlike some of the other sky realms, such as Cerindel or Ruegal, Mezara felt no need to overwhelm visitors with grandeur as soon as they had stepped off their airships. That time came when they had traveled inland enough to behold the palaces of the royal families, which were designed and decorated with a total disregard for budget and taste, and the quaint and lovely villages that surrounded them.

  After the Peregrine had docked in Barjois, Annabel and Victorie had off-boarded, masques in place. They split up to check with their Mezaran contacts about how best to sneak into Duke Gaviscol’s summer palace. After an hour, Annabel returned to the outdoor cafe where she was supposed to meet Victorie; she saw the Navy agent at a table off to the side, a small cup of coffee in front of her, gazing into the distance.

  Victorie turned her head when she heard the footsteps. She smiled, and even through the masque, the sight was still enough to set Annabel’s heart pounding. “There you are,” she said. “You're in for a surprise.”

  “The coffee here is actually good?” Annabel said.

  “It is an acquired taste.” Victorie scowled. “But we have a way to get in to the p
alace.”

  “How the devil did you manage that?”

  “Coincidence, and connections. Navy intelligence has a small and discreet presence here, since Cerindel is supposed to be on friendly terms with Mezara. The agents here do keep an ear to the ground, though, and they've found out that there's going to be a midsummer ball tonight...at Gaviscol’s palace.”

  “I'll be damned.”

  “And the best part is…” Victorie tapped her coat. “One invitation for a visiting protocol official and her aide-de-camp, thanks to the consulate.”

  Annabel nodded as she sat down. “I don’t like having to hobnob with all those stuffed shirts, but at least there'll be a great deal of wine.”

  “And food.”

  “You have your priorities, I have mine.” Annabel grinned.

  “I suppose.” Victorie tapped her fingertips together. “There is one major problem. We are not properly dressed for the job.”

  “How so?”

  “It would be a major faux pas were we to arrive in dresses that cost less than what I earn in a year.”

  “What about masques?”

  “No,” Victorie said firmly. “The staff will be able to detect them. They turn away people with them, for security reasons. We'll need to find someone to get us outfitted quickly.” She cocked her head.

  “You're giving me an odd look,” Annabel said.

  “Well...this is the point where I expect you to say that someone here owes you a favor and will lend us the dresses and get us the makeup and hair styling we need in time to be fashionably late.”

  “You know me better than I thought.” Annabel grinned. “Finish your coffee and we can go.”

  ***

  The next three hours were a storm of fashionable activity for Annabel and Victorie. The salon owner greeted the pirate like the old friend she claimed to be, as opposed to the former business partner she was. It was at her suggestion that Annabel and Victorie were taken to separate rooms, where they were measured, brought dresses, and sewed and laced and fitted in. The stylists added just a touch of makeup, but put an astounding amount of time into their hair. For the finish, new simple masques were cast upon the women, and they were helped into a waiting carriage and whisked away.

  “I thought you had said that masques were not allowed,” Annabel said to Victorie as the carriage left Barjois.

  “That’s only when we enter the palace,” Victorie said. “We’ll remove them when we arrive.”

  “And surprise each other with our outfits?”

  “And the other attendees.” Victorie smiled. “Mezara’s elite does dress to impress.”

  “I’ll wager you’ll find my outfit quite impressive.” Annabel winked. “You did find out where the library is?”

  “I have. And you brought the other parts of the parchment?”

  “I did. They’re...somewhere safe.”

  “I should hope so.” Victorie took Annabel’s hands. “Do try to be on your best behavior when we’re not robbing the Duke’s library.”

  “Even when no one is looking?” Annabel said as she pulled closer.

  “You little scamp.” Victorie smiled and gave Annabel a quick kiss.

  ***

  They soon arrived at the palace, and Victorie had to admit to herself that it was an impressive sight. The gates and towers were all highlighted with gold, and the hedges surrounding the castle were all trimmed down to the last leaf. She could see Annabel grimacing faintly at the sight, and she could understand why - the splendor of its royal class accentuated the sharp divide between the rich and the poor of Mezara, and Annabel’s sympathies clearly lay with the poor.

  Victorie set those thoughts aside as the footmen helped her and Annabel out of the carriage. She showed them the invitation, and then drew Annabel aside. “On the count of three,” she said.

  Annabel smiled playfully. “I hope you’ll be able to recover from the sight.”

  Victorie chuckled. “One...two...three!” They snapped their fingers.

  Annabel’s masque disappeared, and Victorie blushed. She knew that low-cut outfits were almost required party dress on Mezara, but Annabel’s red gown, trimmed with gold and silver, was as revealing as a dress could get without causing the wearer to be arrested. The necklace Annabel wore, with a pendant that dangled into her cleavage, only served to pull Victorie’s attention further in that direction.

  Victorie had been expecting Annabel to joke about that, but then she realized that the pirate’s attention was fixed on her bust. Her blue and white gown was cut a little less low than Annabel’s dress, and she had less to display in any case, but Annabel seemed pleased with what she could see.

  The pirate glanced up and smiled. “So prim and proper,” she whispered as she bent down slightly, exposing just a bit more to Victorie’s view.

  Victorie swallowed. “We should head inside,” she managed to say.

  “Aye.” Annabel extended an arm, Victorie took it, and the two women walked through the palace gate.

  ***

  They were announced to the crowd and entered the ballroom with a minimum of ado. Annabel kept quiet as she and Victorie wound through the other partygoers, stopping for occasional bursts of small talk with various functionaries, some of whom had already started drinking to make the ball more tolerable. They finally reached the buffet table, and while Victorie filled a plate with appetizers, Annabel flagged down a waiter and was rewarded with two glasses of red wine.

  “Is this such a good idea?” Victorie whispered as Annabel handed her a glass.

  “This is Mezara. We’d be looked at oddly if we weren’t drinking.” Annabel smiled. “Besides, the job will only take several minutes. We should look like we’re here for the party.”

  “Enjoy ourselves, you mean?”

  “Aye.” Annabel popped a hors d’oeuvre in her mouth. “It would be a shame if we let all this go to waste.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Victorie glanced across the ballroom, where an elderly man in a scarlet robe was shuffling towards a stage by the far wall. “And it will help keep us awake during all the speeches we’re about to hear.”

  Annabel winced as the man began to drone. “Maybe this is when we start the job?”

  “We wait here.” Victorie picked up a canafe. “Interesting looking cheese on this one.”

  “Why wait?”

  “Because no one is paying attention to the speaker. We’d attract too much attention leaving the room.”

  “Plenty of time for wine, then.” Annabel grinned and took a sip.

  ***

  One hour later, Annabel and Victorie had gone through four speakers, endless praises for the nobility of Mezara, two plates of appetizers, one eclair each, and a healthy amount of wine. “This had better end soon,” Annabel said, stifling a yawn.

  “I think it is.” Victorie nodded towards the stage. The last speaker had shuffled off, and several musicians had taken his place. As they settled in and started to tune up, she added, “The dancing is about to start.”

  Annabel’s face lit up. “Torie?” she asked. “Might you be thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “That perhaps the dancing will provide the distraction we need to slip out of the room and get the job going?”

  “Actually…” Annabel swallowed faintly as the musicians started to play and some of the partygoers stepped out of the crowd. “I was thinking about asking you to dance.”

  Victorie took a sharp breath as she looked at Annabel, the light in her eyes, the nervous smile on her face. In that moment, even though they had a task to carry out, her heart told her mind it could wait for just a few more minutes. “Not if I ask you first,” she said.

  Annabel nodded and took Victorie’s hand. Without another word, they walked onto the dance floor. “I may not be the best at this,” Annabel said. “I’m used to dancing by myself.”

  “We shall have to do our best.” Victorie smiled as they joined in. The music was at a medium tempo, and many of the dancers w
ere just as untrained as they were, so their lack of skill did not stand out as they moved about the floor. Victorie noticed Annabel studying the others and copying their moves, taking the lead as the musicians moved to a faster pace.

  Victorie scanned the crowd herself, and was relieved that there were other pairings with two women, and some with two men. There were places among Aldarre’s sky realms where any hint of romance between two of the same sex was frowned upon, censured or even forbidden. As far as Victorie was concerned, those places could all go to the seven hells. It was no one’s concern whom she chose to be her lover but her own.

  The musicians paused, and the women stopped to catch their breath. “We should start making our way towards the doors,” Victorie said softly.

  “Nay, Torie. Not yet.” Annabel looked up at her dance partner as the next number, a slow song, started. “Just one more dance,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Victorie could see so much in Annabel’s eyes, the desire, the need, the fear that she would be pushed away. Without a word, Victorie pulled Annabel close and let her lead them into the dance. Such odd behavior, Victorie thought for a moment. A fearless pirate acting like a lovestruck schoolgirl.

  Their bodies pressed together, and all thoughts fled Victorie’s mind. She could feel Annabel breathing, feel her heart beating, and something in her started to stir. She tried to fight it down. There’s work to be done, she reminded herself.

  Annabel moved gently in her arms, from side to side. Victorie felt Annabel’s hand stroking her back as her lips pressed on her neck. Annabel sighed, just loud enough for Victorie to hear, and it sent shivers through her body.

  The music stopped, and the dancers paused to applaud. As they did, Annabel stepped back from Victorie, took her arm, and pulled her out of the ballroom.

  ***

  They walked swiftly down a hall, stopping in front of a set of double doors. “Well, that was pleasant--” Victorie started to say.