Plundered Chronicles_Skyblade's Claim

by Robert Dahlen

  “Nay,” Annabel said firmly. “You can’t deny me any more, Torie. There’ve been too many sleepless nights, too long a wait. I want you so much. I need you, Torie.”

  Before Victorie could say another word, Annabel was kissing her again. Victorie could hear herself say, The job! The parchment!

  Those thoughts fell away as Annabel’s hands caressed her. Victorie closed her eyes and gasped. “That’s right,” Annabel said. “It’s time to let me pluck you, my primrose.”

  Victorie opened her eyes. “Annabel?” she said slowly.

  “Aye?” Annabel answered as her hands started to slip underneath Victorie’s dress.

  “Your cleavage.”

  “You want to see more of it, then?”

  “I want to know why it’s glowing.”

  Annabel jerked away from Victorie and glanced down. “The parchment,” she said. “That’s where I hid it. But why is it glowing now?”

  Victorie looked around the room. In the parchment’s glow, she could see the outlines of bookshelves, chairs and desks. “We’re in the library,” she said softly. “The other piece has to be here. You didn't notice that your pieces were tingling?”

  “I did. I was enjoying it--”

  Annabel stopped as, all around them, candles and torches and crystals blazed to life. “Who’s in there?” a voice shouted from outside the room.

  Victorie glanced at Annabel. “Blast,” she said. “If they catch us and force us to leave before we can find the parchment--”

  “Shhh.” Annabel grabbed Victorie and pushed her into a chair near one of the towering bookshelves. “Close your eyes, act like you’ve fainted, and follow my lead.”

  Victorie shut her eyes tightly and slumped down, her head dangling over the back of the chain. The doors swung open, and a guard strode in, followed by a footman. “What’s all this about?” the guard bellowed.

  Annabel’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, no!” she gasped. “No!”

  “Your pardon?”

  “She’s been so weak lately, but she insisted on dancing!” Annabel said in a trembling voice. “I went along with her, but she started to feel faint afterwards! She said she needed to get away from the crowds!”

  “Madame--”

  “I brought her here, and now look at her!” Annabel shrieked. “Look! Oh, Gods, when the Consulate finds out what I’ve done--” She spun and ran away from the doors, into the maze of shelves. “I’m ruined!” she wailed.

  The guard looked at the footman and sighed. “Go get a doctor,” he said. “I’ll stay with her.” Victorie heard the footsteps running down the hall as she kept her eyes tightly shut.

  ***

  The doctor was summoned, but by then Victorie had started to feign recovery. She persuaded the doctor that she had just fainted after too much exertion, and that her aide-de-camp had a tendency to exaggerate, and that she’d be fine with a nightcap and some sleep.

  During the doctor’s interview, the guard had gone into the shelves and found Annabel. He led her back to Victorie, and Annabel apologized for being such a bother, dabbing at her eyes and sniffling all the while. The footman led them back to their carriage, and they set off back for Barjois.

  As they passed through the gate of Gaviscol’s estate, Victorie looked at Annabel in the dim light of the carriage’s cabin. “That was quite unexpected on your part,” she said.

  “Pirates always need to think on their feet.” Annabel grinned.

  “But did you…?”

  “They didn’t even have it under lock and key.” Annabel pulled up her skirt. A glowing piece of parchment, tucked in her garter, lit up her shapely legs. “You should hold on to it.”

  “Why?”

  “We don’t know what could happen when we put all four pieces together. It’s best to wait to do it until we’re back on the Peregrine.”

  Victorie rested her hands on Annabel’s thighs for a moment, slowly stroking the soft skin, before she slid them towards the garters. “This is only making it harder,” she said.

  “Aye.” Annabel lowered her skirt as Victorie pulled the parchment scrap free. “I want to be with you so much, Torie.”

  “As do I.” Victorie tucked the parchment away. “Someday, Annabel.”

  “Someday soon, I hope.” Annabel smiled and took Victorie in her arms. “And we will make it a time to remember,” she whispered as their lips met.

  ***

  Annabel and Victorie returned their borrowed outfits and were soon back aboard the Peregrine. They were seated at the table in Annabel’s cabin, the captain’s three pieces of parchment in front of her. Most of the crew had crammed into the room with them, eager to see what the secret of the parchment might be. Pilfor the ship’s wizard stood next to the table, flexing his fingers as he waited.

  “Pilfor?” Annabel said. “None of us knows what will happen when all the pieces of the parchment are put together. Keep a sharp eye out.” The wizard nodded.

  Victorie took the last piece of parchment from her coat pocket. It shined like a miniature sun as she unfolded it and handed it to to Annabel. The captain set it on the table and squinted as she slid it into place.

  The glow vanished. “That wasn’t what I expected,” Victoire murmured.

  “Well, maybe--wait,” Annabel said, pointing at the parchment.

  The gaps were glowing faintly. The pieces pulled together, the cuts reknitting. The parchment started to float above the table. “Captain?” Pilfor said. “Should I--”

  The glow from the parchment flared bright enough to light every corner of the cabin. Annabel and the others squeezed their eyes tightly shut for a moment.

  As the glow faded, the parchment dropped to the table. “That was a lot of...nothing,” Big Tom said.

  “Belay that, Tom,” Annabel said. She took the parchment and flipped it over.

  On the parchment was a drawing, two ragged ovals connected by a thick curved line. There were marks inside the oval on the left that resembled trees, and the right had one small circle with curved lines inside. Along the right edge were drawn a number of points and a filled-in black hole. “What the devil?” Victorie said.

  “Look here.” Annabel tapped the right side of the parchment. Another drawing was coming into focus.

  “I think it’s...some sort of cave.” Victorie squinted at the drawing. “And the dotted line’s supposed to be...a path?”

  “I’ll be damned.” Annabel smiled. “Hardwicke? Do you recognize this?”

  The helmsman pushed his way to the table. “I think I do,” he said as he studied the map. “I’ve never been there, but I’ve known airshipmen who have.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Twynbey.”

  “The island?” Victorie said.

  “Aye.” Annabel tapped the parchment. “It’s four days sail from here. We’ll stock up on supplies and cast off tomorrow.”

  “But why in the world would we want to go to Twynbey?”

  “You haven’t figured it out yet, Major?” Annabel’s smiled widened. “It’s a map. And I’d bet my last gold piece it’ll lead us to treasure.”

  Chapter Four

  It was a four-day trip, and it seemed like four months for Annabel. The Peregrine’s crew had worked together long enough, and kept the airship in good enough shape, that the sailing was smooth. Annabel’s only concern along those lines was making sure that the glashtyn didn’t give in to boredom and try to break into to the storage room to steal the grog.

  The biggest problem, the one that loomed above them all, was the presence of Victorie. Annabel could tell that even though they had worked together before, the presence of the Cerindel naval officer was still chafing most of the pirate crew. Even though Annabel rarely left her side, the others were still glaring openly at Victorie, ignoring her, muttering under her breath after she passed.

  Victorie took two meals a day in the infirmary, but dinner was with Annabel in her cabin. Even then, there were other crewmen there, and they almost never
had a safe moment to themselves. Victorie kept a steady head, and even told a few stories and jokes, but every so often she would glance sadly at Annabel, and the look in her eyes tore at the pirate’s heart.

  Every night, they would get the briefest of moments alone, as Annabel locked Victorie in the infirmary. They would kiss quickly, softly, silently. Annabel would shut the door, turn the key, and hurry back to her cabin before the first tear came.

  So close, Annabel would think as she settled in her bed. So close to finally loving her as she deserves. But the moment’s gone...and it may be gone forever. We may never get another chance.

  ***

  It was the morning of the fourth day when Hardwicke saw, through the enchanted telescope, the first sign of land. Annabel stood at the bow with Big Tom and Victorie as the Peregrine began a slow, steady descent. “There are humans on Twynbey?” Tom asked. “I thought only the selkies lived there.”

  “It’s a research group,” Victorie said, “a joint project of Cerindel, Ruegal and Farrasper. There are about twenty people.”

  “Cerindel?” The troll furrowed his brow.

  “It’s not a military operation. It’s scientific. They’re studying the selkies.”

  “There could be a supply ship coming. Or a warship.” Tom glared back at Annabel. “We need to be careful.”

  Victorie started to speak, but Annabel held up a hand. “We will be, Tom,” she said. “I’ll have Pilfor put up a masque. Have the glashtyn keep a sharp eye out for any other ships nearby.”

  Tom nodded. “Cap’n...a word with you.”

  “Major? Stay here until we return.” Victorie nodded and fixed her stare straight ahead.

  Tom took Annabel’s arm and led her down the deck. They stopped just out of earshot of Annabel, and the troll said, in a low voice, “I don’t like this, Cap’n.”

  “I don’t think there’s much to worry about, Tom. We can handle research scientists in a fight.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

  “I don’t think the Major is going to betray us--”

  “Annabel,” Tom said sharply. “I still don’t trust Brassfeld. None of the crew does, even if she did help get you out of that mess on Svendar.”

  “Tom,” Annabel said, “it’ll just be until we get this mystery with the map sorted.”

  “I wish I could believe that.”

  “Tom…”

  The troll scowled at his captain. “You have feelings for Brassfeld, don’t you?” he said. “Any fool could see it.”

  “That’s none of your damn business,” Annabel snapped, her face reddening.

  “It’s my damn business if I think it’s affecting your judgment. You could be putting all of us at risk just because she helped you find a damned map that could be nothing.”

  “If it’s nothing, then why did someone go to such effort to hide the pieces? There has to be something there.”

  “There had better be. Or else some of the crew might lose their heads.”

  “And you, Tom?” Annabel said, cutting into him with her sharpest glare.

  Big Tom was quiet for a moment. “Not me,” he said at last. “There’s been too much between us.” He placed a hand, with surprising gentleness, on Annabel’s arm. “I don’t want you to be hurt, Cap’n. But sooner or later, you’re going to have to choose. You know that.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Annabel said. “But you know I’ll be there for you.”

  Tom turned and walked away. “I hope so,” he said over his shoulder.

  ***

  The crew eagerly crowded into the Peregrine’s bow as it closed in on the island. Annabel and Victorie stood back from the rail and watched the approach, and the excitement of the glashtyn. “Why the selkies?” Annabel asked.

  “Pardon?” Victorie blinked.

  “Why is Cerindel so interested in them?”

  “Officially, it’s to study how they’ve adapted to ocean life. But the real story…” Victorie smiled. “It has to do with Princess Marina. She thinks selkies are adorable, and persuaded King Archibald to have them studied.”

  “She’s got Archie wrapped around her finger?” Annabel grinned.

  “Someone has to, I suppose.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this.” The women glanced at Big Tom as he peered through a telescope. “Those trees look different than the ones that grow on the sky realms.”

  “Palm trees,” Victorie murmured.

  Tom ignored her. “And some of them have big green or brown things growing from them.”

  Annabel grinned. “They’re coconuts, Tom.”

  “Can you eat them?” Lickfoot shouted from his perch in the rigging.

  “Aye, but just the brown ones. You have to crack them open. Then, you can drink the milk and scoop out the innards.”

  “Yummy!” Lickfoot said as the other glashtyn cheered.

  Tom squinted. “I wonder if the people on the island eat them.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” Annabel said. “We’ll hold the Peregrine here and take the windjammer down.”

  “We?” Tom said as he lowered his telescope.

  “You’re with me, Tom, along with Major Brassfeld.” Annabel set off for the stern, Victorie on her heels. Tom rolled his eyes and muttered to himself as he followed them.

  ***

  The windjammer had been part of the spoils from one of Captain Skyblade’s earliest raids, when the crew had relieved a naval base of certain supplies and a case of whisky. It sat three, in a straight line front to back, and Victorie was in the center seat between Annabel and Big Tom. Annabel touched the argent embedded in the railing as Tom heaved the ballast overboard. With a whirl of propellers, the small airship rose from the Peregrine’s deck and set off towards Twynbey.

  The windjammer had a flat bottom, which made it far more suitable for landing than the Peregrine, and Annabel guided it down. It settled on a beach, near several large rocks. “So how do we keep this from floating off?” Tom asked.

  Annabel glanced around for a moment. “Someone drilled some hooks into those rocks,” she said, pointing towards an eyehook. “The supply ships must use those for docking.”

  Victorie jumped off the windjammer. “I'll handle that,” she said. “Might someone toss me the rope?”

  Tom glanced at Annabel, saw the stern expression on her face, and sighed quietly. “Here,” he said, grabbing a skein of rope and throwing it to Victorie.

  “Thank you, Tom.” Victorie started to slip the rope into the hook. She looked over to one side and paused. “Captain?” she said.

  “Aye, Major?” Annabel said.

  “We seem to have company.”

  Victorie pointed down the beach. Three people were walking up to them. They were dressed rather casually, in plain white garb, straw hats and sandals. “Good morning!” one of them, a slender man with a thick gray beard, said cheerfully.

  “Good morning,” Annabel said cautiously.

  “Welcome to Twynbey!” The man rubbed his hands. “I'm surprised to see you here early.”

  “You are?” Annabel raised an eyebrow.

  “We weren't expecting a supply ship so soon.”

  “They’re not with a supply ship, Alvin.”

  Annabel turned to see the man striding down the beach towards them. He was tall and dark-skinned, with sharp eyes, a bald head and a pointed goatee. He wore a Cerindel naval uniform with a patch she didn't recognize on his right shoulder, two crossed wooden dowels set atop a sunburst. She felt a faint shiver in her spine, not of attraction but of an odd sort of recognition.

  “The next supply ship isn't due for another two weeks,” the man continued. “I haven't received any word of an early arrival.” He fixed his stare on Victorie. “I think we need to find out more about you and why you're here before we let you dock.”

  Annabel risked a glance at Tom, and saw that the troll was sitting quietly, holding back any concern or anger. They had
discussed this with Victorie earlier, what they would do if they were confronted, but in that moment, Annabel held her breath. If Victorie was ever to betray them, to betray her, now would be the time.

  Victorie saluted. “Major Victorie Brassfeld. Naval intelligence. My credentials?” She pulled an envelope from her pocket and handed it to the man.

  The envelope started to glow. The man returned it to Victorie with a nod. “Can't be too careful,” he said as he saluted. “Connor Wirth, Sargent with His Majesty’s Magical Operations Corps.”

  “A pleasure, Sargent,” Victorie said. “My companions are Captain Annabel Gallagher and her first mate Tomasund.” Annabel breathed a soft sigh of relief at Victorie’s use of her birth name; she realized that the shiver she had felt was her sensing that Connor was a wizard.

  “Call me Connor. We're not that formal here.” He lowered his voice. “You're with Intelligence?”

  “I am.”

  “Which means you're not here for the scenery.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Right.” Connor turned towards the others. “Navy business!” he said with a smile. “I'll need to discuss it in private. Can you tie this windjammer up, Alvin?”

  ***

  Connor led Victorie and her companions away from the beach, into a wooded stretch where the palm trees towered above them. “I had a feeling there was more to this than just a social call,” he said, stopping and leaning against a tree. “What brings you here, Victorie?”

  “Well--” Victorie started to say.

  “Wait a minute.” Connor glanced at Annabel and Tom.

  “We can speak freely,” Victorie said. “They already know why we’re here.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “We came into possession of several pieces of enchanted parchment. When put together, they merged into what we believe is a treasure map.”