by A. C. Cobble
“Well, it… it matters a lot,” explained Sam. “It’s all the difference.”
The boxer snorted and glanced back at his boss.
The baron shrugged. “I have no idea who she is, but she’s with the duke, so don’t kill her.”
Jack grinned and turned back to Sam just in time to see her spin, her foot whipping through the air and cracking the big man on the side of the head.
The former boxer stumbled back, and Oliver straightened unsteadily, watching in awe as Sam darted after Jack, her fists a blur, peppering the giant’s sides until he howled in pain, hunching over trying to protect himself. She grabbed his bald head, holding it in place with one hand while she unleashed three lightning quick blows with her elbow. Jack’s nose crunched underneath the onslaught and a waterfall of blood was pouring from his nose by the time Sam released his head.
He raised his hand to wipe the blood from his face, but she didn’t relent. Spinning, she swung the back of her fist into the side of his head again and clipped him above the ear. Jack fell to the side, crashing against the carriage and grasping at the large back wheel as he tried to stay on his feet.
Sam took two quick steps forward and leapt into the cold night air, swinging one booted foot up and catching Jack full in the face.
The big man was flung back from the impact. He bounced off the carriage and then collapsed onto the cobblestones in a motionless heap.
Sam landed lightly and looked between the duke and Baron Child. The baron’s jaw was hanging open, resting on his chin.
“What do you think, Duke?”
He stretched his neck, wincing as it cracked and throbbed with pain. No doubt he was going to be sore from the truncated beating the former boxer had dished out, but it should have been worse.
He glared at Baron Child. “If you want satisfaction, next time, challenge me yourself. I will still grant the two percent of the expedition, but in the girls’ names. You and your panderer brother will do without. If I catch wind of you ever trying to exploit the girls in this way again or sniffing around Company shares, I will crush you, Nathaniel.”
Baron Child worked his jaw, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists, but then finally he relaxed. “I miscalculated and I apologize. I should have taken your offer and left it at that. If it matters at all, I do have the girls’ best interest at heart.”
“That’s the only reason I’m not dragging you off to my brother’s gaol where he’d be certain to drape the hangman’s noose around your neck,” declared Oliver. He pointed a finger at the man. “We agree, then, you’ll let it drop? I have your word? I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder. If this comes up again, Nathaniel, you will regret it.”
“You have my word, on the Child family name,” offered the baron with a quick bow. When he rose, he allowed a small smile onto his lips. “I miscalculated tonight, but perhaps my brother did not. I’m sure the girls will be eager for your company when you return, Duke Wellesley.”
Oliver grunted and watched as Baron Child vanished into the night. He glanced at the carriage, the open door, and groaned. He considered running after the baron, requesting he take his niece with him, but it didn’t feel right. A gentleman finishes what he starts.
“What should we do about him?” asked Sam, nudging the unconscious Jack with her foot.
Oliver touched his throbbing cheek and forehead where he could already feel the swelling starting. “Leave him. Hopefully by morning he’s robbed but not killed. Do you know how to drive a carriage?”
“No,” she responded. “Why would I know—”
“I’ll drive then,” barked Oliver, and then he climbed up on the driver’s bench.
Sam shut the carriage door and followed him up front to the bench. She settled beside him as the vehicle lurched into motion. “A duke who can drive a common street carriage. You’re full of surprises.”
“So are you,” he replied.
He drove the puttering four-wheeled contraption out of the alley onto King’s Row, the broad boulevard that ran from the theatre to his brother’s palace. He winced and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as the carriage jerked hard when he tried to shift gears. He owed the girl for saving him from a beating, and perhaps worse.
“I learned to drive these things years ago. I was in Finavia, studying under a famous tutor there, supposedly. Most of the time, I was getting drunk with my fellow students on the sparkling wines the place is so famous for. When we’d leave the cafes at night, we’d pay the carriage drivers to let us operate the contraptions and we’d race the vehicles back to the house I’d rented. We did it every night for weeks until someone ended up wrecking one of them. Shortly after, I was sent home.”
Samantha laughed. “Who wrecked the carriage? You?”
He shifted gears again and grinned when she yelped as the mechanical carriage lurched ahead. She kicked her feet up on the footboard in front of them, and he relaxed as the wheels rumbled through the empty street. They drove down the quiet boulevard, passing through the islands of light provided by the street lanterns, rolling in and out of darkness. An hour and a half before dawn, they had the city to themselves.
“Was the man right?” asked Sam after several blocks. “Will you see the girls again when you return? For a share of your expedition, it seems like they’d be eager…”
“They’re not like that,” muttered Oliver. “Their father and his brother have grand visions. The girls want a good time. Perhaps someday they’d be interested in more but not now. Now, I’m just their favorite entertainment while they’re at court in Westundon.”
“So, you will see them?”
Oliver didn’t answer.
Sam left it alone for several more blocks before commenting, “I don’t blame you, you know. That girl is sculpted like a statue and she was on you like a dog on a bone. I can’t say I’d be able to turn her down if I was in your trousers. One thought, though, if you want my advice…”
“Why not?” asked the duke with a sigh. “You’re not going to be quiet until you give your opinion, are you?”
“Is a headache bothering you already, m’lord? That man did ring your bell, and of course there’s that little bit of drink you had last night. Seems it has already got you snippy.”
Oliver grunted. “Go on, then. What’s your advice?”
“Instead of both twins, why don’t you try sleeping with just one of them?”
Slowly, Oliver turned to stare at her.
“Beautiful twins,” said Sam, shaking her head. “Of course you’ll sleep with them both. Why wouldn’t you, even after their uncle sends some bruiser to crack your skull? Surely no further complications will arise from you splitting time between two sisters, right? The uncle won’t renege on his deal. Your brother won’t find out, and naturally, no jealousy will come between the girls. What could go wrong?”
He did not have a reply to that.
“I cannot believe men,” declared Sam. “You are all so stupid.”
Looking straight ahead, Oliver adjusted the gears, and the carriage lurched again.
The Priestess V
The sun bathed Westundon in a warm, orange glow. Sam’s jaws creaked with a barely contained yawn. She blinked her eyes, struggling to focus. She hadn’t slept a minute the night before, and after depositing the baroness with her initially sleeping and then enraged sister, they’d barely made it to the airship bridge when the first shards of daylight appeared on the horizon. The climb up the ten flights of wooden stairs to the top of the flat-topped structure had had nearly done her in, though with a glance at Duke, she thought it could be worse.
The man was leaning against the railing of the platform, ignoring the precipitous drop below or, more likely, still so drunk he was unaware of it. His eye was already swollen and by afternoon, she guessed it would be a vibrant shade of purple. His forehead was puffed up like he was growing a horn out of the center of it. He reeked of liquor and sex, but in the open breeze on the platform, she guessed no one c
ould smell the latter. They didn’t need to smell the former. One look at the man made it clear he’d had an adventurous night.
“How much longer, Captain Haines?”
The airship captain glanced over the railing to where piles of provisions were being efficiently loaded onto the pulley platform, the platform they could have taken instead of the stairs if it wasn’t loaded with freight. Duke had suggested they make the freight wait, and she’d talked him out of it, though she quickly began regretting it as they’d climbed higher and higher.
“Half a turn of the clock, m’lord.”
Duke grunted.
“I apologize for being tardy, m’lord,” continued the captain. “We’d supplied for a journey to the Westlands. For Archtan Atoll, we need a different kit. The tropical climate there—”
“I know, I know,” muttered Duke. “It’s not your fault, Captain. I’m, well, I’m hungover.”
“I can tell, m’lord.”
Duke shot the captain a glance, and the man busied himself pretending to oversee the loading of his airship, the Cloud Serpent.
Men cranked on the pulley, and far below them, the platform rose with another pallet of provisions. Atop the ten-story airship bridge, men were formed into a line, passing sacks from a half-empty pallet that had already been brought up with the pulley. The sailors continued up the gangplank and then into the hold of the ship. Their line was an efficient way to load, but it required every pair of hands on deck.
Sam watched them work and then forced herself to look the airship over. She hadn’t been on one in nearly two decades, and she’d been a child then. The sense of nervous excitement she’d felt long ago on her first journey had changed into just nervous.
The airship appeared the same as a seagoing vessel in construction, except it was floating ten stories above the ground. A series of thick hawsers kept it secured to the platform they were standing on so it wouldn’t drift away. She swallowed, watching it rock with the gentle breeze.
Three masts sprouted from the center of the deck, and when they lifted off, those masts would be hung with billowing canvas sails. On the sides of the ship, she could see portals where cannon could be rolled out, and a deck below were similar portals where wide canvas paddles would be extended to try to stir the air if the ship was becalmed or needed to maneuver in tight quarters where the wind couldn’t be trusted. Becalming was a rare occurrence, she was told, but one that could have terrible implications on an airship.
A gust of wind blew across the airship bridge, stirring her hair and catching the side of the ship. It pulled, ropes creaking, against the platform. She shivered, telling herself she’d only imagined the entire structure tilting.
“First time on an airship?” asked the captain.
She nodded, her eyes still locked on the vessel. “First time in a long time.”
“Here,” he offered.
She turned and saw he was holding a set of leather-wrapped glass goggles. “When we move fast or through the clouds and the rain, you’ll want these. Otherwise, your eyes get wet or teary and you can’t see for the blinking.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“It’s nothing, m’lady,” he said. “I have plenty. And don’t be worried. These ships have been in service for over twenty years now. They’re tested and safe.”
“She’s not a lady,” grumbled Duke.
Both Sam and the captain turned to look at him. He was drooped against the railing, head buried in his elbow.
The captain raised an eyebrow at her.
“He’s right,” she admitted. “I’m a representative of the Church. Do you want your goggles back, knowing I’m not a lady?”
The captain grinned. “No, ma’am, I do not. Crown, Company, or Church — someone paid the sterling to get you passage, and that means you’re an important person. I’m just a simple airship captain trying to make my way in the world.”
“A simple airship captain?” she laughed.
The man winked at her.
“He’s trying to sleep with you,” croaked Duke. He leaned over the railing and coughed.
She worried the nobleman was going to be sick, showering the hard-working laborers ten stories below with his bile. “Perhaps the other side of the platform…”
“You’re probably the only woman on this thing,” mumbled Duke. “The captain’s trying to make a claim.”
She glanced at the captain.
He shrugged sheepishly. “You’re not the only woman aboard, but…”
“The rules are different outside of Enhover,” continued Duke, still leaning precariously over the railing. “Your standing amongst the peers or within the Church doesn’t mean as much. Just because you’re a priestess, don’t expect special treatment.”
“Company colonies, Company rule,” agreed the captain.
“I’m not a priestess, not really,” reminded Sam. She looked to the captain. “I’ll keep your offer in mind.”
“Bunk her with me for now,” instructed Duke, shifting and squeezing his head between his hands. “If she decides to sleep elsewhere, that’s up to her.”
“Fair enough,” agreed the captain. He looked to Sam. “Shall I show you your room, then?”
“I’d appreciate that. Ah, do we need to...” She waved a hand at Duke.
“He’s been on the Cloud Serpent enough to know the layout, but, m’lord, perhaps you should have someone assist you up the gangplank? It’d be an inauspicious start to our journey if you toppled over the side before we even left the bridge.”
Ignoring the foul string of curses and rude gestures from the nobleman, Sam followed the captain up the gangplank, staying close, trying to pretend she wasn’t stepping from a solid platform built on hard earth onto a contraption of wood and rock that floated freely and unsupported. She certainly did not want to dwell on the certainty of the messy, splattery death that a fall would bring.
“You know how these work, right?” asked the captain as he led her aboard. “Sometimes knowing helps new fliers. Sometimes it doesn’t.”
“There is ballast or some such, right?”
He nodded at her, grinning. “The famous levitating rocks of Archtan Atoll. You’ll see them throughout the day before we reach our destination, actually. There are dozens of them floating on the route to the main island where the Company founded Archtan Town. The islands are anchored to the earth, mined, and trimmed to fit in the hold of our ships. It is ballast, I suppose, or maybe I should say the opposite. Instead of weighing us down through choppy sea, this ballast lifts us, and we fly above it.”
“Anchored and mined?” wondered Sam.
Captain Haines nodded. “Wait until you see it.” He opened a door at the rear of the vessel and waved her inside. “The captain’s cabin. My own quarters, when a company director or your duke are not along for the journey.”
“We’re kicking you out of your room?” asked Sam. “I don’t mind sleeping—”
“The Crown doesn’t hold as much sway on board my ship or in the colonies as it does in Enhover, but he’s still a duke,” interrupted the captain. “Besides, they’ll make room at the director’s table in Company House the moment he wants a seat. A Wellesley, a fearless explorer, and the richest man in Westundon. I’d grant you my cabin if you asked it, ma’am, but the duke doesn’t need to ask.”
Sam paused, turning in the compact room to face the captain. “The richest man in Westundon?”
“Of course,” replied the captain, stepping inside after her. “Who else would it be? Randolph Raffles hasn’t been a company director for more than three years, though he’s been in the employ for at least a dozen. Prince Philip has the treasury, but that sterling belongs to the Crown, not him. None of the other merchants in Westundon can hold a flickering candle to the type of wealth a share in an expedition may bring. Duke Wellesley has shares in Imbon, the Southlands, and half a dozen of the Vendatt Islands. He could be the governor of the Westlands if he wanted the job. Archtan Atoll is about the only pie
ce of Company property he doesn’t have a share in.”
Sam stared at the captain, speechless.
“You’re not his girl, are you?” asked the captain. “If you are but don’t want to tell me, well, this ship isn’t that big. People will find out. You don’t have to bunk with me if you don’t like. I won’t pressure you more than you want, but if you’re his girl, I need to let the boys know so they keep their eyes off you. They’re not as careful as I am, and I don’t want them getting themselves into trouble.”
Blinking, Sam shook her head. “I’m not his girl, but I have no interest in your crew — not in that way. Save us all some time and let them know, Captain.”
Captain Haines nodded then proceeded to show her around the cabin. There wasn’t much to see — a bed, a couch, a table, a wardrobe, and a narrow closet where one could perform the necessaries.
“That’s the best thing about the cabin,” remarked Haines. “The only reason I maintain it for myself, to be honest. I’ve gotten used to sleeping in the officer’s quarters, and their snoring and stinking doesn’t bother me any longer. Having a quiet private place to… you know… that’s worth gold.”
“I can imagine,” murmured Sam.
“You care to see the rocks?” asked Captain Haines. “The rest of the Cloud Serpent is a standard layout — cannon, the hold, the mess, and the crew’s quarters. Same here as you’d see on any ship out of Enhover, on the sea or in the air. The rocks, though, that’s something different.”
Sam nodded, and the captain led her back on deck and then down a steep series of ladders. He grabbed a globe from a hook and shook it, causing a dozen sparkling, emerald lights to flare awake. He led her farther into the ship, holding the globe by a short loop of rope and illuminating their way.
“Damn faes get sleepy up in the air. Down near the ground they stay awake longer.”
“You can afford to keep fae lights on this, ah, vessel?”
“Vessel? As good a term as any. Fae lights are better than some crewman tripping and dropping a burning lamp filled with oil,” responded Haines. “Don’t get me wrong. The Company isn’t so concerned for our safety, or even the value of the cargo, but these rocks are worth twenty times their mass in gold. We’ve only got a dozen of these airships in the Company fleet, and there are about the same flown by the royal marines. The airships are the only way we can maintain our trade advantage in the tropics and are the one thing that keeps the United Territories in line. The Company wouldn’t like to eat that financial loss, and the Crown can’t afford to lose the military power, so every airship has fae lights.”