Plundered Chronicles_Skyblade's Claim

by Robert Dahlen

  She hoped that the taverns being fuller would mean the cafes were emptier. She had no desire to have anyone look over her shoulder as she wrote a letter to Victorie, let alone one as explicitly detailed as she planned. She grinned with mischief as she checked her coat pockets for the fifth time. Everything was still there--envelope, paper, pen and ink, stamp.

  She stopped as she felt her fingertips tingle. They were resting lightly against the parchment piece she had taken from the Svendaran ship. She had forgotten it was there, and she pulled it out to move it to a different pocket, in case the ink leaked.

  The parchment was glowing, bright as a candle.

  Annabel tucked the scrap away and moved out of the midmorning sun, into a shadowed alcove between two shops. She turned to face the alcove, took the parchment out again, and stared at the glow. Seven devils, she thought as the pricking moved up her arm. What is going on with this cursed parchment?

  She moved her hand to her right, trying to ease the pricking. Instead, it grew stronger, and she winced. She saw the glow was brighter still; when she brought her hand to her left side, the glow dimmed.

  You are a mystery, Annabel thought. And it’s time I got to the bottom of it. She slipped her hand, holding the parchment scrap, into her pocket and left the alcove, heading to her right as the tingle grew stronger again.

  ***

  It had not been the most comfortable journey for Victorie. Masque in place, she had managed to book one of the last spaces available on the airship from Cerindel City to Kirtorf, and had spent the night in an uncomfortable bunk in a cabin with seven others, most of whom snored quite loudly. Still, it was preferable to go undercover than in a Cerindel Navy airship, so she had gritted her teeth and slept as best as she could.

  Her mood had brightened when the airship had reached Ristadt. She had had a large, late breakfast, and strong coffee to offset any sleepiness from her meal, at a restaurant near the port. When done, she set off into the crowded streets, thinking over what to do next. There were Cerindel agents on Ristadt, as on every sky realm, but the two countries were on friendly terms and the agents had very little to do, so checking with them could wait.

  Victorie had another challenge, one that she recognized over breakfast was affecting her concentration. Annabel’s letters had come from Ristadt. Victorie had already checked the dock, and she had not seen the Peregrine or the merchant airship masque that had been used to hide it in the past. Still, Victorie held out hope, faint though it was, that Annabel would be there, that she’d round a corner or enter a tavern and see that charming smile, hear that familiar voice.

  She was trying her best not to be distracted by her thoughts, by her desire. I have to keep my mind on why I’m here, she thought as she walked through the crowd. Do what I can to untangle the mystery of this parchment.

  Victorie stopped in the mouth of an alley, checked to be sure she was alone, and took the shard out of her pocket. So what secrets do you hold? she thought. What is it about you that those Svendarans were ready to kill for…

  Her thoughts scattered when she saw the parchment glowing faintly. What the devil? she thought as she backed into the alley, standing off to one side to best see the glow. Is this...some sort of trap?

  As Victorie watched, the parchment’s glow grew stronger and stronger, lighting up the gloom around her. She heard footsteps stop, then come down the alley, but she couldn’t get a look at who was approaching because of the light from the parchment.

  Victorie held the hand with the parchment behind her back. Her free hand dropped to her side, by her holstered pistolere. “Who’s there?” she said softly. “Show yourself, and state your purpose.”

  The footsteps stopped. There was a startled gasp, and a voice that made Victorie’s heart jump.

  “Torie?”

  Victorie had difficulty believing her ears. “Annabel?” she said, not trying to hide her shock.

  The figure in the alley snapped her fingers. Her masque vanished. “Aye,” Annabel said, her voice shaking. “It’s me, Torie.”

  Victorie snapped her fingers in turn. Before she could lower her arm, Annabel shot down the alley. The pirate grabbed her and kissed her, a kiss filled with all the passion in her heart. Victorie returned the kiss with the same passion, holding Annabel as tightly as she could.

  The kiss broke, and Annabel pressed her cheek against Victorie’s. She could feel Annabel’s tears, and the corners of her own eyes were moist as well. “Annabel…” she said, so torn with emotion that she could barely get the one word out.

  “Shush.” Annabel kissed Victorie, and that kiss led to another, and many more, until it felt as if all the breath had left Victorie’s body and her heart was set to burst from the joy.

  Victorie finally stepped back. Her face was flushed, and her knees were trembling. She brushed some stray hairs off her forehead. “You clever scamp,” she said with a smile.

  Annabel broke into laughter, bending down, her hands on her knees. “You make it sound as if I planned this,” she managed to say.

  “You didn’t? I’m actually shocked.”

  Annabel laughed again. “Ah, Torie. My plans would have involved somewhere more private than this. And a comfortable bed.”

  “We'll have to discuss that part later.” Victorie smiled warmly.

  “But what the devil are you doing on Ristadt? Business?”

  “Yes. And an odd sort at that.” Victorie pulled her parchment piece from her pocket. “I doubt you can make anything out of this, though.”

  Annabel’s jaw dropped. “I’ll be damned,” she said as she reached inside her coat and took out her piece of parchment.

  “So will I,” Victorie said. “How did you get your hands on that?”

  “It was in a treasure chest my crew and I acquired from a Svendaran ship,” Annabel said. “Yours?”

  “I took it from two Svendaran agents disguised as visitors from Ristadt--” Victorie stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening. “Castleton said that he thought that my piece was part of a larger parchment,” she said slowly. “If that’s true, then…”

  Annabel nodded and unfolded her parchment. “They’re about the same size,” she said as she tried to line her piece up with Victorie’s. “And...they do seem to fit together on the long side.”

  “But why do they glow like that?”

  “My shard has some enchantment on it, and perhaps…” Annabel touched Victorie’s parchment. “Aye. Yours does too. I can tell by the tingling in my hand.”

  Victorie raised an eyebrow. “You can tell that?”

  “You know I have a bit of a way with magic. I’m guessing that if one doesn’t, their hand won’t tingle.”

  “Does it always tingle when it contacts something magical?”

  “Let me check.” Annabel reached behind Victorie and rested her hand on the major’s bottom. “Aye,” she said with a wicked grin. “It’s tingling now.”

  Victorie laughed. “You little scamp! Save that for later!”

  “I will, believe me!” Annabel paused and held up the parchment scraps. “I think that part of the enchantment I’m sensing causes these pieces to glow when there’s another piece nearby. The brighter the glow, the stronger the light.”

  “So now that they’re together, they’ll glow.”

  “Aye, but…” Annabel stepped away from Victorie and walked down to the end of the alley. “The glow is getting stronger again.”

  “Which means…” Victorie smiled. “There’s another piece of this here on Ristadt.”

  Annabel nodded. “But why would someone go through all this effort over a blank sheet?”

  “I could hazard a guess...but the important thing is that the Svendarans are after this.”

  “And anything those bastards want so bad is worth keeping from them.” Annabel scowled. “So what’s your next move?”

  “Our next move,” Victorie said. “We need to find that piece.”

  “So we’re working together again, are we?”


  Victorie smiled. “I had longed to see you again, Annabel. I suppose we can team up until this mystery is cracked.”

  “Aye.” Annabel took Victorie in her arms. “We’ll have to see where this takes us.”

  “Somewhere more private than this, I hope.”

  “So do I.” Annabel grinned and kissed Victorie. “Shall we?”

  ***

  “Here?” Victorie squinted as she stared at the busy beer garden across the street from where she and Annabel stood. “The Weiskeller?”

  The pirate glanced inside her coat, where she had stored the pieces of parchment, and winced at the glare. “They’re glowing stronger than ever,” she said. “It’s the most likely spot.”

  “But why there?”

  “See the tavern?” Annabel pointed at the five-story building that stood at the rear of the beer garden. “I’ve heard that there’s a special room on the fourth floor where the owner shows off some of his favorite souvenirs from his travels. It’s possible that what we’re looking for is being displayed or stored there.”

  “How did you know that?” Victorie asked.

  “I know some people who have had business in that room.”

  “Should I ask what sort of business?”

  “You might as well, since we need to stop by there anyway.” Annabel turned and started down the street. “Come along.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Victorie asked as she hurried after the pirate.

  “We need to get in without attracting suspicion. And to do that…” Annabel grinned. “I have the perfect disguise.”

  ***

  “You have got to be joking,” Victorie said for the fifth time as she stared at her masqued reflection in the mirror in the dressing room of the Peglegged Pussycat. The green skirt she wore came down just to her knees, and the suspenders that went with it hung off her shoulders. “This?”

  “Aye!” Annabel tapped the matching masque that the Pussycat’s wizard had cast on her as she spoke. “What better way of getting into the Weiskeller than pretending we’re barmaids hired to help during the festival?”

  “I suppose.” A faint blush tinged Victorie’s cheeks. “But must the tops be so…”

  “Low-cut?”

  “Revealing.”

  “That’s the standard for barmaids here on Ristadt, Torie.” Annabel grinned. “It would cause the staff to wonder about us if we didn’t show the goods.”

  Victorie scowled. “But why show the...goods...in the first place?”

  “Because most of the customers are men. And, as the saying goes, ‘The bigger the tits, the bigger the tips.’” Annabel winked.

  “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

  “Am I? Well…” Annabel walked over to Victorie, turned around, and lay back in the major’s arms. “Even if it’s just a masque, you can enjoy it as well.”

  Victorie’s blush grew as she glanced down. “A very realistic masque spell,” she murmured.

  Annabel smiled sweetly. “My dear primrose.” She pulled Victorie’s lips to hers. As the kiss broke, she added, “But we need to get going before the afternoon rush.”

  ***

  The Weiskeller was already packed when Annabel and Victorie returned. Every table, and there were many, was packed with patrons sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, mostly humans and dwarves, mostly male, and all with mugs and pitchers of beer within arm’s reach. There were plates of sausage and sauerkraut and bowls filled with pretzels, and people ate and drank and sang, sometimes all three at once. The only empty spots at the tables were due to patrons running to the privy or passing out.

  “This seems to be popular,” Victorie said, nodding towards the long line of people waiting at the front gate.

  “It’s a good thing we don’t have to worry about being trapped in that line.” Annabel set off down the street. “Come along.”

  Victorie followed Annabel as the pirate rounded a corner, then another, stopping in the rear of the beer garden. There was a large, sleepy-looking man guarding a gate there. He saw the women approaching and seemed to wake up. “Afternoon shift?” he said.

  Annabel nodded. “Hired just for the festival,” she said, bending forward just a little. The guard swallowed very faintly. He stepped aside, his eyes fixed on Annabel as she and Victorie hurried past.

  “You little tease!” Victorie whispered.

  “He’ll have happy dreams tonight...but that’s all he’ll get from me.” Annabel pointed at a counter where other women in green skirts and low-cut tops were gathering pitchers and plates of food. “We’ll check in there and get to work.”

  “You know more about this than I expected.”

  “I’ve had to do this before.”

  “And that’s all you’ll say about that.”

  “Aye.” Annabel winked. “Follow my lead and try to look busy. We’ll need to convince the others we’re here to work before we can slip inside and look for the parchment.”

  ***

  Victorie sat down on the bench and flexed her legs. “That is some bloody hard work,” she muttered. “Thank the gods they gave us a break.”

  “Aye.” Annabel stretched. “That’s why I always leave good tips for the barmaids.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “Rest for a few minutes. Then, we’ll see if we can sneak into that that fourth floor and get that parchment.”

  Victorie raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think it’ll be that simple?”

  Annabel grinned. “Easy as pie, Torie.”

  Chapter Three

  “Pie?” Victorie snapped at Annabel as they ran through the streets of Kirtorf.

  “Is the bouncer still following us?” Annabel said. She was holding a glowing piece of parchment in one hand and an empty beer stein in the other. Her barmaid masque, along with Victorie’s, had been stripped away when they had grabbed the parchment from its display case in the Weiskeller tavern, triggering a magical alarm.

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “I’m trying to keep us from getting caught, arrested and tossed in some dungeon!”

  Victorie looked back over her shoulder as she and Annabel rounded a corner. “He’s still on our tail.”

  “Persistent little bugger, isn’t he?” Annabel said with a faint sigh.

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t have kicked him in his manhood.”

  “I’m still surprised I hit it. It was a rather small target. Besides, he was about to tear your head off.”

  “That’s only because I had those barmaids holding me down,” Victorie said.

  “I felt bad about having to hit them.” Annabel shook her head. “I hope they don’t miss any work.”

  “Miss work?”

  “The tip money this time of year is quite generous. Is he still there?”

  “Getting closer.”

  “Hold on for a moment.” Annabel stopped, spun around, and flung her beer stein at the bouncer.

  The glass mug struck him in the forehead, cracking open and slicing the skin. The blood trickled down his face, stinging his eyes; he fell to his knees and screamed in pain.

  Annabel vaulted over a fence and sprinted through a narrow backyard. “No sympathy for him?” Victorie asked as she followed.

  “He worked for a few weeks at the Peglegged Pussycat.” Annabel scowled. “The girls there said he treated them like dirt.”

  “Ah.” Victorie jumped on a garbage bin to scale another fence. “At some point, I suppose I should ask where exactly we are going.”

  “Where else? Back to the Peregrine.”

  “To hide?”

  “To set sail.” Annabel held up her parchment. “This is the same size as the other two we’ve found. There’s one more out there.”

  “And you know where to find it?”

  “Valois at the Pussycat said one of the girls saw it on Mezara. Duke Gaviscol's summer palace. The library.” The pirate stuck the parchment in a pocket.

  “You must be joking,” Victorie said slowly
.

  Annabel grinned as she ducked through a large hole in a fence, emerging in an alley. “If you can’t trust a fence who works out of the back room of a bawdy house,” she said, “then who can you trust?”

  “I see,” Victorie said as she followed the pirate, though Annabel could tell that she might not. “So where do we go?”

  “Turn left here, then right when you see the sign with the giant sausage. That’ll get us back to the wharf.”

  “A giant sausage?” Victorie shook her head. “They tend to be boastful here, don’t they?”

  “It’s an actual sausage, Torie.” Annabel winked as they neared the sign. “Get your head out of the gutter.”

  “Why should I? Am I crowding you out?”

  “You’re supposed to be the modest one--”

  “You two! Hold it right there!”

  Annabel and Victorie stopped and glanced back over their shoulders. Two Kirtorf city guards in imposing red and black uniforms were pointing crossbows at them. Standing between the two men was a rather busty Weiskeller barmaid with an irate gleam in her eyes. “That's them!” she shouted.

  “How the devil…?” Victorie said half to herself.

  “Never underestimate a pissed-off barmaid,” Annabel said.

  The older of the guards glared at Annabel and Victorie. “You two are under arrest for theft, breaking and entering, and assault.”

  “And seeking employment under false pretenses!” the barmaid added.

  The younger guard sighed. “That’s not really a criminal offense, Maria.”

  “It should be! Those two cheated other barmaids out of their tip money!”

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