Shadow Raiders

by Margaret Weis; Robert Krammes

  The Cloud Hopper burst into the sunlight. The boat was well out of the harbor area now, approaching the Old Fort. Stephano looked back toward the harbor and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Merchant ships and barges rode at anchor, resignedly waiting for the authorities to come to their senses and lift the blockade. Naval vessels were spread out from the naval station on the southwest edge of the bay, along the southern Rim east to the main harbor area. The northern shore was dominated by the Old Fort and the artillery batteries. The Royal Lion, pride of King Alaric and flagship of the western fleet, floated near the mouth of the bay.

  “Dag, take the helm!” Stephano called. “Miri, take Gythe below.”

  But although Gythe was obviously in pain, she refused to leave. Shaking her head, she allowed Dag to help her to a chair on the deck, but that was as far as she would go.

  A gunboat, seeing the Cloud Hopper suddenly bob up out of the mists, was bearing down on them, though not with any sense of urgency. Trundlers could always be expected to try to slip past a blockade and were generally considered harmless, though the captain’s eyes must be opening somewhat wider at the sight of the Cloud Hopper’s two cannons, swivel guns, and the frog. Stephano could see no sign the navy had noticed anything out of the ordinary. The sound of the pistol shot fired down in the mists would have gone unheard, muffled by the Breath.

  The Silver Raven sailed up out of the mists, emerging some distance from the Cloud Hopper. The sight of the merchant vessel appearing out of nowhere caused the navy gunboat to shift their attention away from the Cloud Hopper. Stephano swept the deck of the Silver Raven with his glass. He saw Rodrigo’s lavender coat and he gave a sigh of relief. Wallace was there, as well, talking to the captain. By his emphatic gestures and belligerent stance and the fact that he was aiming his pistol at the captain, the discussion was not going well.

  “Flagship’s signaling, Captain!” Dag called.

  Stephano lifted his spyglass, trained it on the Royal Lion. He suspected this flurry of signals must have something to do with the sudden and unexpected appearance of the Silver Raven. He could not read the flags; the codes were changed frequently so as to confuse any enemy who might be watching. He waited tensely to see if the gunboat, Capture, would respond and how it would respond.

  The Capture fired a warning shot in front of the Silver Raven, ordering it to halt.

  The Raven ignored the warning, continuing to add on sail in an effort to increase speed. The Cloud Hopper—now forgotten—trundled along gamely behind. The merchant ship, the gunboat, and the Cloud Hopper were now rounding a corner of the Old Fort, coming in view of the battlements and the guard towers and shore battery.

  The battlements, made of magic-reinforced concrete and stone, were over a mile long. They ran along the northern Rim of the bay, up a cliff called the Short Step to the Old Fort, stretched along the shore until they reached the foot of the high, jutting cliff known as the Bastion. Beyond the cliff, the topography was wild and uninhabited, made up of hills covered with trees, outcroppings of jagged-edged granite, and spectacular falls of water where rivers cascaded off the continent and plunged into the mists of the Breath.

  Stephano could see the long, black muzzles of the cannons of the shore battery thrusting out from the side of the cliff. He waited tensely for the shot that would cripple or sink the merchant vessel.

  “Miri, bring us in close,” said Stephano. “We’re going to board the Raven. Dag, you’re with me.”

  “Captain,” said Dag. He had his spyglass to his eye and there was a strange, strangled sound to his voice. “Look at that.”

  Stephano had his pistol drawn and was standing by the port rail, ready to step onto the ship’s short wings. Miri was sailing the Cloud Hopper closer to the Silver Raven. Both of them turned to Dag, then shifted their gazes.

  A darkish gray cloud rolled over the hills, moving at incredible speed, lit from within by flashes of green fire and accompanied by an eerie whirring sound—the wings of countless gigantic bats. Hell’s Gates had swung wide. Aertheum had sent his legions to attack in force.

  Stephano was momentarily paralyzed by the astonishing sight. Then he looked at the naval warships, whose officers were watching the harbor, ready to stop smugglers. He looked at the fortress, at the guards enjoying the show. All unknowing, unaware of the horror about to break over them.

  Stephano had to warn Hastind, make him see the approaching danger. He ran to the storage locker on the deck where they stored such objects as signal flags, rope, and patching material for the balloons and sails. He flung it open and dragged out a flag made up of four blocks: red and white on top and white and red on the bottom. The flag’s message was terse and to the point: Standing into Danger. Stephano hurriedly attached the flag to the lines and ran it up the mast of the Cloud Hopper. The question was: Would anyone see it and, if they did, would they pay attention to a flag being flown by a Trundler.

  “Dag, fire a gun to get their attention. Miri, all hell is going to break loose, and we’re now right in the middle. We need to—”

  He paused a moment to look at the Silver Raven. The merchant vessel was ahead of them by several hundred yards. Rodrigo would understand the nature of the peril swooping down on them. So would Henry Wallace.

  The Cloud Hopper’s four-pound cannon fired with a boom that reverberated off the towering walls of the fortress. Stephano could imagine all the spyglasses on all the navy vessels now searching for the boat that had fired. He watched Wallace standing on the deck of the Silver Raven. The gunshot had caught his attention. He would be certain to think that the Cloud Hopper was firing on his ship.

  Wallace, his expression grim, aimed his gun at Rodrigo.

  Raising a speaking trumpet, Stephano bellowed through it. “Demons!” He jabbed his finger in the direction of the approaching swarm.

  Rodrigo heard and understood. He looked over his shoulder and even from this distance Stephano could see his friend’s horrified expression. This apparently convinced Henry Wallace, for he turned to see the demons closing in. The bats were no longer a homogenous mass. They were individuals, their mouths wide, fangs gleaming. Their riders with their hideous faces twisted in fury, orange eyes glowing, were raising the green-fire, handheld cannons.

  Stephano could not see Wallace’s face, but he could tell by the fact that he took an involuntary step backward and had to steady himself by grabbing onto a mast that he was astonished and alarmed.

  The naval ships had heard Stephano’s warning cannon shot and seen his flag. Most captains would summarily dismiss a small Trundler boat signaling danger. A few astute captains might take the signal seriously. Every lookout in the crows’ nests above and every officer on deck below would have their spyglasses sweeping the skies, searching for the threat.

  They did not have far to look.

  The heavy mists of the Breath below the ships shredded. More bats and their demon riders rose from below. The demonic forces were already causing havoc in the harbor, firing their green blasts at the helpless merchant vessels, which were essentially sitting ducks. Already flames were starting to rise from burning hulls and masts. Naval gunboats were racing to their aid, but the navy was now coming under attack, as well.

  A flurry of signals sailed up mastheads, captains asking the flagship what was going on. Beating drums on board all the ships sent the gun crews to their stations. The shore batteries were already prepared to enforce the blockade, their gun crews were at their posts, gunports open, guns ready to fire.

  “And we’re in their sights!” Stephano realized.

  Henry Wallace had reached exactly the same alarming thought.

  “Miri, take her up!” Stephano shouted frantically.

  “Gain altitude!” Wallace yelled.

  The ship’s balloons billowed with magical energy, giving them full lift capacity. A flag with a blue cross on a white background soared up the mast on board Wallace’s ship. The flag meant: “Break off your intentions and communicate with me.” Stephano
wondered what the hell Wallace was up to. Now was hardly the time to try to open negotiations with the Royal Navy! Probably a mistake, he thought. Some panicked sailor sent up the wrong signal. He was proved right in that the next moment, that flag came down and they sent up a distress signal.

  Stephano shouted. “Stay on Wallace’s tail! I don’t want to lose Rigo.”

  Miri tossed her red hair. “I’m supposed to sail through an army sent by the Devil himself, keep this boat from going down in flames, and all the while try to fly this boat fast enough to catch a ship that has three times her sail?”

  “I have every confidence in you,” said Stephano. He grinned as he ran past her.

  “You’re enjoying this!” she said accusingly.

  Stephano considered her statement as he crouched behind the swivel gun and looked down the sights. “Enjoy” wasn’t the right word. He didn’t enjoy the idea that their boat might come under attack or that innocent people were dying or that he and his people might be blown up at any moment. But he knew what Miri meant.

  This was danger he understood. Danger he could fight. No more hiding in the darkness, skulking about alleys or crawling over rooftops. No more getting slammed on the head from behind or sneaking out through wardrobes. No more of his mother’s sneaking, underhanded, lying way of doing business. This was war, plain and simple. Stephano knew what to do in war and he knew how to do it and he was damn good at it.

  Dag had loaded both the swivel guns. While in Westfirth, he’d found time to buy more canisters of ammunition, for they were stacked neatly on the deck. Dag had said nothing about it, of course. All part of his job.

  Stephano looked at Dag: steady, cool, calm, undaunted in the face of danger. He looked at Miri, her lips pressed together in grim determination, her hands flying over the brass helm, paying no heed to the demons or the bursts of green fire or the flashes of fire from the guns of the shore battery. He looked out across the widening expanse between their ship and the Silver Raven and saw Rodrigo, seated at his ease in a deck chair while chaos erupted around him. Stephano looked at Gythe, who was now crouched on the deck at the bottom of the mast, terrified nearly out of her wits, but refusing to hide, singing softly to maintain the magic that would protect the Cloud Hopper.

  Stephano’s eyes dimmed with tears, his throat and nose clogged. These were his friends, and he loved them. For a moment, he couldn’t see to aim his weapon. He gave himself a mental slap and wiped his eyes in time to witness an astonishing sight.

  The Breath boiled and out of it rose a ship. The vessel with its wide beam and a squared bow looked cumbersome and unwieldy. The short forecastle was overshadowed by a high sterncastle that extended out beyond the hull. The Estarans had built ships like this during the Bishops’ War, but that was more than one hundred years ago. He’d never actually seen one in person, only in books. Three masts rose from the deck, but none of them supported any balloons. Black sails flapped in the air. In the center of each sail, a human corpse dangled from a rope.

  Stephano grabbed a spyglass to get a better look. The ship’s hull was covered in leather marked with strange sigils. Glowing green lines ran from sigil to sigil, connecting them all in a grotesque construct. Green energy crackled along the black sails as the ship leveled off.

  Miri’s eyes widened at the sight. Her hands trembled and the Cloud Hopper’s forward speed slowed.

  “Miri, whatever that is, it’s not after us!” Stephano shouted, hoping he was right. “Keep up with Raven.”

  Miri nodded and turned back to her task. By this time, the Cloud Hopper and the Silver Raven had gained altitude and were floating above the Old Fort, looking down on the battlements with their shore batteries. The hapless merchant vessels in the harbor and the navy gunboats and warships were all under assault. Smoke and flames rose from the docks.

  Stephano wondered how the Trundlers were faring. Probably not well. Unlike the Cloud Hopper, few Trundler ships were armed and would be illprepared to fend off the demon attacks. Miri was worried about her uncle and family; he could see her cast agonized glances over her shoulder in a vain attempt to see what was happening far away at the Trundler village.

  A few demons had been flying toward the Silver Raven. The merchant vessel carried a score of large swivel guns to fend off pirates. They had manned their swivel guns and were ready to fire when, surprisingly, the demons broke off the attack and flew, instead, toward the Cloud Hopper, which was closing rapidly on the Raven.

  Sir Henry Wallace was on the deck of the Silver Raven with the captain (Wallace was no coward, Stephano had to give him credit for that) watching the demons; a puzzled expression on his face, as though wondering himself why they had not attacked the ship. He actually walked over and said something to Rodrigo, who shrugged his shoulders.

  Wallace gazed at the demons flying toward the Cloud Hopper another long moment, then he spoke to the captain. He may not have known why the demons had not attacked his ship, but he was quick to take advantage of the fact. The sailors were running to set more sail, increase Raven’s speed.

  Having fought the demons before, Stephano and his crew were better prepared to deal with them than the sailors on board the naval vessels; many of whom, Stephano guessed, must be in a state of mind-numbing panic. As it was, he and Dag had practice aiming and firing at the giant bats and their demonic riders.

  Green fire flared, racing toward the Cloud Hopper. Gythe’s magical defenses arced blue and the first shots did no damage—except to Gythe. She gave a whimpering cry and put her hands over her ears.

  “Gythe! Go below!” Stephano shouted.

  Gythe either didn’t hear him, or she was pretending she couldn’t hear him. He had asked her before what the demons were saying to her, but she had replied that while their words made sense at the time, they didn’t make sense when she thought about it. Like voices in a dream.

  Stephano watched an approaching bat, waiting for it to fly into his sights, a trick he’d learned in the last battle. Below the Hopper, the shore batteries had opened fire on the ungainly black-sailed ship, which was flying straight toward them. The ship was still out of range, and the batteries were trying to find their target. The demonic ship was armed with only a single gun mounted on the high sterncastle. The gun wasn’t very big, and Stephano wondered what sort of damage the fiends thought they could do with that.

  He fired the swivel gun at a demon and saw it veer rapidly off. He had no idea whether he’d hit it or not. Dag’s gun fired almost simultaneously. Dag struck his target; the giant bat shrieked horribly, flipped over, and bat and rider went spiraling down into the Breath. Before Dag could reload, a bat flew up from underneath the hull and dove at Miri. Dag grabbed his musket and fired, just as the demon shot green fire at her. Miri ducked behind the helm. The Cloud Hopper’s magic flamed blue. The demon flew off; one arm dangling useless at his side.

  Gythe slumped down onto the deck and moaned.

  “Dag! Take Gythe below!” Stephano yelled.

  Dag tried to persuade her to leave. She shook her head obstinately. Stephano reloaded his swivel gun and Miri left her helm long enough to race over to reload Dag’s. Stephano waited tensely for another attack, but none came. Bats that had been flying toward them suddenly veered and flew off. Dag, shaking his head, went back to the gun. Gythe, shivering in fear, remained defiantly on deck.

  Miri dashed back to the helm. The fight with the bats had cost them precious time. The Silver Raven, now with all sails set and its propellers whirling, was drawing away from the Cloud Hopper. Stephano had lost sight of Rodrigo.

  “Stay with them!” Stephano yelled.

  “I’m trying!” Miri yelled back impatiently. “Something is fouling the main yard control lines. I can’t set the mainsail! Port side.”

  Stephano ran to the port blocks. A quick examination revealed several large splinters of wood lodged in three of the main pulley lines. Stephano used the butt end of his pistol to knock the obstructions free.

  The port
mainsail filled with air. The Cloud Hopper surged forward.

  Stephano and Dag remained at the swivel guns, watching the bats and the demonic ship, which was crawling nearer and nearer the shore batteries. Its single gun looked like a child’s toy. The shore batteries were firing, attempting to hit the strange ship, but they were having difficulty targeting the vessel.

  Stephano and Dag both aimed their swivel guns at the demonic ship, though there was small chance of hitting it. Still, a lucky shot might do some damage. As Stephano stared down the sights, the ship flickered and blurred in his vision, shifting left, then right. The sight made him dizzy and he had to look away. He blinked and tried to aim again, but the same thing happened.

  “I can’t see to shoot at it!” Dag called.

  “Some sort of weird magic,” Stephano muttered.

  The Cloud Hopper was directly above the battlements, flying over them at about twenty feet. A man in a black cassock ran along the top of the wall, followed by a man in armor that shone in the sunlight. Stephano recognized Father Jacob and Sir Ander. Some distance behind the two, he could see their companion, the monk. Movement and the flash of sunlight on scales caught his eye and he looked up at the Bastion and his heart skipped a beat.

  A dragon stood poised on the top of the cliff, his wings spread, ready to soar down and join in the fighting. Stephano recognized his old friend, Sergeant Hroalfrig. Stephano waved to try to attract the dragon’s attention. Miri had caught sight of Father Jacob and was exclaiming in worry over him.

  A green beam shot out from the single gun mounted on the strange ship and struck the concrete bunker housing the guns of the shore battery. The beam was powerful, blinding as though one had looked directly into the sun. All Stephano could see for a moment was the afterimage, yellow tinged with red. The beam blazed for maybe a minute. Green light washed over the concrete and stone and magic walls of the bunker and then the beam went out.