“They escaped.”
“Good,” Captain Karlsson said with a nod. “Very good indeed.” For a moment, they both stood staring at the cutter being prepared. “So why don’t you tell me how you came to be aboard that warship and then we’ll start our little tour.”
Esther shook herself mentally and turned to Captain Karlsson. “Yes, sir.”
They walked about the quarterdeck as she recounted her experiences over the past several days, beginning with the attack on Tewksbury, her attempt to save her family and friends, and her subsequent capture. She told the captain about how she was forced to shoot the man at the Wilstead farm and cut Suraj’s harness, causing him to fall to his death. She relayed to him how she had fixed, and then sabotaged the Madrausan’s propeller gears and her reckless escape. It all seemed so surreal in the retelling. The effect killing those men had on her must have been apparent because Captain Karlsson turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I know how difficult it must have been to do the things that you were forced to do, but just remember that we are also defined by why we do things, and not just what we do.” Esther nodded. “You are a remarkable young woman, Miss Kelley.”
Esther looked down at her hands, embarrassed.
“Well, let’s move on to something a little more light-hearted, shall we? From what I have gathered, you know quite a bit about the workings of an airship. How about we take that tour now and I can actually show you how an airship works?”
“That would be wonderful,” said Esther, grateful for the change in topic.
“Nathanael,” Captain Karlsson said, turning to Mr. Graham, “The deck is yours.”
“Aye, sir, the deck is mine,” he replied.
The Captain turned back and headed below. Esther followed the captain below deck and over to where the mainmast protruded out of the floor and into the ceiling of the upper deck. Just forward of the main mast was a rectangular box about two feet wide and as high as Esther’s waist with a chimney that ran up along the mainmast into the ceiling. A crewman stood next to the box with a bucket of what looked like sand and a small handheld shovel.
“This,” said Captain Karlsson, “is a Saug gas station. There are many of these throughout the ship that are used to fill the various bunkers with Saug gas to keep us afloat.”
The captain opened the front of the box, hinges on its side creaking as he did so. Inside stood a large kettle, covered by a lid with a hole in the top of it. The captain pulled the lid off of the kettle. Deep inside, Esther could see an amber colored liquid. Refined Saug oil, she recognized.
“There are two basic methods for an airship to ascend into the air,” the captain explained, “We can drop ballast—typically in the form of sandbags—or, if we’re traveling over the ocean, we’ll often fill our ballast tanks with water as well so that we can drop it later to ascend quickly. We typically only use this method in emergencies. The second method is much slower, but provides greater flexibility for descending later. We simply increase the amount of Saug gas in our bunkers.”
The captain turned and grabbed the small shovel out of the bucket. He scooped a little bit of the sandy substance onto the shovel and dumped it into the kettle. That must be the mineral that produces Saug gas when combined with the refined Saug oil, Esther thought. The liquid in the kettle immediately started to bubble, rapidly releasing a green gaseous vapor that rose swiftly up into the chimney.
“And that, my dear, is Saug gas, the heart of any airship,” said the captain. The captain returned the shovel to the bucket and put the kettle’s lid back on.
“Normally,” he continued, “the attendant will simply feed the kaolin mineral through this feeder,” he gestured to an opening in the front of the rectangular enclosure, “and that drops into the hole in the lid of the kettle. This helps keep the refined Saug oil from sloshing out of the kettle during battle and extreme maneuvers. One other—”
The captain was interrupted by the sudden ringing of alarm bells. A shout of “general quarters” was sounded throughout the ship. The captain reached out and grabbed Esther’s shoulder. “Come!” he shouted and then ran aft towards the companionway leading up onto the quarterdeck.
Esther ran after him. When they arrived on the quarterdeck, a flurry of activity surrounded them. Mr. Graham, the sailing master, and a few of the other officers were standing along the back rail of the ship, peering aft. Mr. Graham was using a telescope. The captain walked over to him.
“Three enemy warships sighted sir,” said Mr. Graham, handing the Captain his telescope.
The captain peered through the telescope for a long minute.
“Signal the transports to put on all sail and turn propellers at maximum speed,” said the Captain, “We’ll need to come about and draw them off, then have the transports scatter. The question is, can we wait until the cover of darkness?”
“It might be better to have them scatter now, sir,” said Mr. Graham, “If those ships get too close, the enemy will have a better chance of finding them, and given the current winds, they’ll be almost on top of us by nightfall. If we can disable one or two of those ships, that will give the transports the best chance of survival.”
An idea began forming in Esther’s mind as they spoke. She opened her mouth to say something, but then faltered. They had likely already thought of her idea and dismissed it.
“Agreed,” said the Captain, “As soon as the ship is ready, Nathanael, bring us about and signal the transports to scatter, then—”
“Captain,” said Esther, deciding that she had to at least voice her idea, “If I may, there may be another option?”
The captain looked at her with a puzzled expression, obviously surprised at her interruption. “Yes?”
Trying not to let their difference in ages and experience intimidate her, she continued, “The risk of waiting for cover of darkness is that the enemy will be right on top of us. However, this may be advantageous. If we are able to confuse the enemy and have the Nautilus slip away when it gets dark, bringing her about to surprise the enemy, we might be able to disable all three ships before being destroyed ourselves.”
“The problem with that, Esther,” said Mr. Graham, “Is that the enemy will be so close by then, there’s no way the Nautilus will be able to slip away.”
“That’s why we use a shell game, Mr. Graham,” said Esther, grabbing a roll from a nearby plate of food and breaking it into four parts, placing them side by side back on the plate. “When the enemy draws close enough to fire their bow cannon’s, the Nautilus and the three transports will begin shifting positions, moving around each other, but in a predictable pattern. The big transport will always stay in the rear and only shift from side to side, but the other ships will switch-off being in front and then shift to the side, then back. As soon as it’s fully dark and the Nautilus is in front of the big transports, we’ll extinguish all of our lights and drop back to ambush the enemy. When our cannon’s fire, the transports will extinguish their lights, descend to the ocean, and scatter. At sea level, the air will be thicker and those on the propeller oar shafts will be better able obtain a better speed. That will give them the best chance of survival.”
No one spoke. They all just stared at her with looks of surprise and contemplation. She felt her face flush under their gazes and she bit her lower lip nervously.
“You know, Captain,” said Mr. Graham at last, “That just might work. The chances of the Nautilus’ survival are extremely low, but the transports might escape.”
“That they might, Mr. Graham,” replied Captain Karlsson, “After the transports increase their speed, we’ll need to calculate how fast the enemy ships are closing. If they get too close before it gets dark this evening, then this isn’t going to work.”
The Sailing Master nodded, then turned and shouted orders to the signalman. He turned back to the Captain and Esther. “The enemy will be expecting us to extinguish our lights before its even dark. If we don’t, they’re going to wond
er why.”
“It won’t matter,” said Esther, regaining her confidence, “The only downside of leaving our lanterns lit is it makes it easier for them to follow us. At first, we want them to. And having the transports lights remain lit will make it more difficult for them to notice when Nautilus disappears. Having them wonder about why we left them lit won’t hurt us.”
Mr. Graham nodded.
The Captain turned to Esther. “I’m sorry Esther, but collecting the names of the rescued survivors from your village just became low priority. I’m going to have the longboats tether themselves to the big transport and use their propellers to help pull it faster. That might give us a little more time before the enemy can close with us.”
“I understand.”
“If you’d like to transfer to one of the transports first, I could wait—”
“No thank you Captain,” Esther said. “You need every hand you’ve got and I’d much rather help out here and possibly make a difference than become a slave if the transports are re-captured.”
“But they may escape…” he said. He didn’t have to finish saying ‘and we won’t’.”
“I know. Thank you, sir, but my place is here.”
The Captain clapped her on the shoulder. “Very well then. I’m sure the riggers could use a good hand.”
Esther smiled, nodded to Mr. Graham, then turned and headed for the rigging.
- - -
Captain Karlsson watched her go. He was surprised by Esther’s intuitive understanding of strategy and tactics—like when she had suggested that the transports descend after putting out their lights. An equally in-experienced airman would likely have suggested that the transports ascend in order to keep the tactical advantage, but that would have been a mistake. The transports were trying to avoid detection and combat at all costs. By ascending, their chances of being detected against the night sky would be infinitely greater than if they descended to the ‘deck’ of the ocean where they would be much more difficult to spot—and he hadn’t even considered that the air was thicker at sea level and better for the rowers before she mentioned it to him.
Strategy didn’t seem to be her only strength, either. She moved with a grace he had rarely seen. Her every move was precise, with no wasted effort. He had seen her on deck, cornered by a Madrausan. She had dodged his attacks with ease. Though her unarmed counter attacks had had no effect and it was clear that she lacked training, the way she had dispatched the Madrausan who had attacked him after she’d gotten hold of a knife had been downright astonishing. That level of fine motor control was unheard of.
Perhaps he would spend some time with her later in the day, after things settled down somewhat, and teach her how to use a sword properly—he’d be interested to see how fast she could learn the skills. Who knows, maybe she’d even live long enough to use them.
CHAPTER 12
Battle
In the short amount of time I’ve been aboard this ship, I’ve really come to care for the crew and officers. I would never have thought that they’d make me feel so welcome, as if I was one of their own—but they have.
The evening sun had dipped below the horizon, taking the fiery glow of sunset with it. Dusk had settled in and a cool breeze began to blow across the deck of the Nautilus. Airmen sat along the gangways around the main hatch, sipping their ration of rum from tin cups, lantern light illuminating their faces as they faced their own mortality. In a couple of hours, the Nautilus would turn and make its suicidal charge against the pursuing Madrausan warships. Right now, however, the captain had ordered the men to rest, relax, get some shuteye, and prepare themselves. The sound of a harmonica could be heard, a melancholy tune wafting in the wind, played by one of the airmen. Quite a few of the men lay on the deck, eyes closed. Some sleeping, some just lost in their own thoughts.
Esther—standing by the side railing of the ship—thought that it would have been far more comfortable down below on the berthing deck in a hammock than out here on the hard wood, but they all seemed to want to be near each other and see the stars—to draw on the strength of their combined brotherhood. The thought gave Esther comfort as well, for these men had made her feel welcome and had quasi-adopted her into their brotherhood as well. She had continued to work alongside the riggers, learning as much as she could and helping trim sails, secure lines, and anything else she was asked to help out with.
Captain Karlsson had even asked her to meet with him earlier in the afternoon and had taught her some basic skills with the sword. She liked the extra reach that the sword gave her and it seemed a much more elegant weapon than her dagger. She was just a novice and only knew the basics, but she felt she was learning quickly and the Captain never had to show her anything more than once. Still, she thought, her hand tightening around the dagger’s hilt buckled to her waist, I don’t ever want to ever be weaponless again. The dagger gave her that extra sense of security.
She leaned back against the railing, her thoughts turning rapidly in her head. She understood the men’s melancholy mood. Their thoughts were focused inward on friends and family who they were never likely to see again. If they went into combat like this, however, it wouldn’t take the Madrausan’s long to overwhelm them and then they might not even succeed in their primary mission of providing a distraction so that the transports could escape. Believing you were going to die was a sure way to make it happen.
She was a sixteen year old girl onboard a naval warship. It was ridiculous for her to try and put some backbone into these men. They weren’t going to listen to her. But, not knowing what else to do, she had to try. Failure wasn’t an option. She wasn’t going to let self-doubt and anxiety hold her back from at least trying. She stepped forward and nervously cleared her voice.
“Gentlemen!” she shouted, trying to keep her nervousness out of her voice. She waited for a moment as men sat up and looked at her. “Gentlemen!” she shouted again, feeling a bit bolder at the sound of her own voice. A thought popped into her head all of a sudden and she shouted, “What’s the matter with you?!”
A few more men looked up, some seeming to be a bit upset at having their self-absorbed thoughts interrupted by her accusing voice. “You are far too melancholy for my tastes!” she continued, “It is time to pick yourselves up!” She paused a moment. “I know you’re not going to let a young woman lead the charge against these butchers alone, are you?! We may be going to our deaths tonight,” she said, her eyes surveying the crowd, “and thoughts of home and family pervade our minds, but are you going to go quietly to your death?!” She paused again and heard some grunts and grumbles.
“Some may ask, ‘What else would we do?’ And my answer is that we should celebrate! You may ask yourselves ‘What do we have to celebrate?’ Well, I’ll tell you! We must celebrate the lives that we have been given…and celebrate the lives that we will save!” She saw heads nodding in agreement now and she continued more confidently, “Although we may be called upon to die tonight, we have lived the lives that we have chosen and we are pursuing a worthwhile goal—the preservation of our homes! The survival of all of the people on those transports! And gentlemen,” she said, looking at them individually in the eye, “we cannot give up hope, for however dim the night, however far away the dawn may be, that dawn will come! The night will fade. That gentlemen, is a promise. So if we are asked to sacrifice our lives,” she said, shouting as loud as she could, “then I say we do so with a glad heart and a hope for the dawn!”
Shouts of approval echoed Esther’s words as the men stood, clapping.
“Now I feel like dancing!” said Esther, “Any who wish to join me are welcome! But to dance, I need some music. Sir,” she said, turning to the airman with the harmonica, “will you provide me with a lively tune?”
The man adjusted his hands and lips on the harmonica and began playing an upbeat, jovial tune. Smiling, Esther began to jump up and down to the beat of the music.
“Who will dance with me?!” she yelled and was answered by a ru
sh of nearby airmen. Esther grabbed the man nearest to her and started dancing. Soon, most of the airmen were up and dancing and the mood turned festive as they began to celebrate.
The captain walked forward from the aft rail where he had been studying the enemy ships through his telescope to stand next to the sailing master at the fore quarterdeck railing and watched the festivities.
“Amazing,” said Mr. Graham as they watched Esther breathe new life and vigor into the crew.
“Yes,” said Captain Karlsson, “she is.”
- - -
Two hours later, the complete darkness of a moonless night had descended upon the small group of ships fleeing from the Madrausan squadron. The Nautilus had beat to quarters silently and everyone stood at their duty stations. Esther’s station was up in the rigging, tending to the sails. She watched the Captain giving orders from her vantage point aloft, until he gave the signal to extinguish all the lanterns at the same time. Then the waiting began. She could feel the ship turning beneath her and the muffled sounds of orders being relayed.
Esther looked back at the pursuing Madrausan ships. They hadn’t extinguished their lights either. Esther didn’t know if it was a result of the Ardmorran ships not putting out their lights or simply because the enemy didn’t care. One way or the other, it made their current scheme much easier. It appeared that Captain Karlsson was maneuvering to target the Madrausan ship on the left flank of the formation. She tried to wait patiently, but the brisk wind raised gooseflesh on her skin, and again she wished she had grabbed the midshipman’s jacket from her cabin—even if it was an officer’s jacket. It would have made the long wait easier.
Providence was with them as the Nautilus closed with the Madrausan ships and remained undetected. Finally, when they had drawn parallel with the enemy formation’s left flank at a distance of only a few hundred yards, Esther gauged each ships relative speed and thought, we should be getting ready to fire right about…now! And, as if Captain Karlsson had heard her thoughts, he ordered the cannons to fire.
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