From Haven to Hell

by Rebecca Diem

  “My fiancé was not an honourable man. The night before our engagement party, a woman carrying a swaddled babe presented herself at our door, inquiring about Alexander. He denied any knowledge of the woman, but my brother, Archie, followed him the next day as he slipped away and overheard their argument.

  “You see, I received a rather generous inheritance from my father’s estate. As of my 21st birthday last June, it is legally under my control. If I were to marry, it becomes the property of my husband.” Clara could feel her cheeks growing bright with anger, “That was his plan all along. With my fortune, he would support her and their child. He was penniless, borrowing on the favour of creditors and the promise of marriage to an heiress. To me. Alexander had been anxious to wed since our courtship began, but any such thing was necessarily delayed by my father’s illness.

  “My brother told me of his scheme the night we were to announce the engagement. And I saw my life’s course before my eyes, a loveless marriage and a penniless estate, forced to bear the scrutiny of the local ladies, growing old and bitter with no recourse.

  “I was humiliated. Made to look a fool, before my family and my peers. I so narrowly escaped his trap, and I knew then that I would never be happy as part of that society. So I convinced my family to help me run away. It was crucial that I leave at once. I did not wish a confrontation that could result in Archie being forced to duel over my honour. I love him dearly, but he is a scholar, not a fighter, and I would not put it past Alexander to force my hand with the threat of violence. Mother was not pleased by the idea, but agreed to travel to visit her sister in Europe as planned and pretend I had joined her so that I would have some reprieve. Our neighbours would be informed that I was too distraught to go through with the engagement. I thought that would be the end of it. Clearly I underestimated his tenacity.”

  “Well. That explains the dress at least. But this Alexander, he believes you are still engaged?”

  “Yes. Apparently he has disregarded the note I sent to him. Mother will be furious when she returns. It is quite inconvenient.”

  “I believe it may be time to pay him a visit,” the Captain said with a murderous look.

  Clara couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face at the thought of a confrontation between Alexander and the Captain Duke.

  “Not now, we have other matters to attend to. Leave my former fiancé to me. I have a few ideas.”

  “As you wish. Clara, I do not know what has prompted your confidence in me, but I assure you, you have my support and that of my crew in whatever you choose.”

  Clara stared for a moment before the realization came to her.

  “Oh! Drat. It was Robbie? Did I not tell you? He tried to blackmail me, and he’s planning a mutiny.”

  “What?” he roared.

  Before Clara could say another word, the Captain Duke stormed to the door and opened it. He prepared to shout for Trick and Nessa, but they were already waiting, along with Cat and Mouse. Ignoring his furious look, Cat skipped into the room.

  “Well I suppose she’s told you then. We gathered the officers, Captain. Figured you might want to chat before dinner.”

  With a look of exasperation, he gestured the rest of the company into the room to take seats around the small space.

  Clara told them of her interaction with Robbie, and briefly recounted her own story. Then she sat back and listened as the others argued over what to do with the information. The possible connection between Robbie, Alexander and the gunpowder was of particular concern. It was clear that Robbie was planning to act soon if he was willing to risk reaching out to her. Trick shared what he had gathered among the crew: who was divided in their loyalties, and who remained firm in their support for the Captain Duke. They spoke late into the afternoon before dispersing to engage those who could be trusted in their plan. At dinner, they were to come armed.

  Chapter 11: In which our hero attempts a diplomatic resolution

  The Captain Duke’s mind was racing as he paced about his study. His blood ran cold at the thought of who might stay and who would go if offered the chance to follow Robbie. All these years without a mutiny, and to have it come at the hands of one of his most trusted officers stung more than he would ever admit to Trick or Nessa. He refused to allow Robbie’s deceit to fester any longer. If there was to be a split, it would be tonight.

  A knock pulled him from his reverie. Trick entered, closing the heavy door behind him. The two men exchanged a significant look before the Captain resumed his pacing.

  Trick waited before speaking, “Are you certain you want to do this tonight? We could give it a day or two, gather more information.”

  The Captain Duke stopped before the window, gazing out at the scene before him. It was the golden hour. The sun cast the island in warm tones as it began its descent towards the horizon. The tranquility of the moment did nothing to ease his mind. But, taking a deep breath, he thought of how he had carved this place into his home. He thought of the decade or so spent fighting, stealing, and flying to create his empire. And he was tired. So very tired of it all.

  “Yes. Tonight,” he said. Trick joined him to stare out at the scene in a reverent silence for a long time until Nessa called for them. The Captain Duke checked his pistols and tucked extra ammunition into his coat. Trick placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “We will stand with you, Captain.”

  The shadow of a grin passed over his face for the briefest of moments, “I’m ready.”

  The dining hall was as boisterous as always, with pilots filing in from their duties. The excitement was palpable; preparations for their departure were almost complete, and the women and men were happy to enjoy a final meal from the Haven’s abundant kitchens before returning to the skies. The Captain Duke paused at the entrance, making note of those who had gathered with Robbie in the corner furthest from the head table where Clara and Anderssen sat, deep in conversation. There was no sign of Cat and Mouse and the Captain hoped they would follow his orders to stay safely away. Stone-faced, he walked through the room, flanked by a grim Nessa and Trick. Instead of sitting, he stood before the long table, facing the assembled pilots. A hush fell across the room as they turned their attention to the front of the room. He waited, allowing the silence to fill the space before continuing

  “Tomorrow, we fly.”

  Cheers erupted from the tables, and the Captain Duke waited out the round of applause.

  “It has come to my attention, however, that there may be some disagreement about the methods we employ to pursue our objective.”

  The crowd stilled.

  “In truth, the nature of our trade is changing. The world is not as large as it once was. We have adapted to this new order of things, and to continue we may yet again need to change our ways.”

  He took a step forward, clasping his hands behind his back. The hum of anxiety was palpable as he scanned their faces.

  “I’ve been working to devise a new strategy. A more prudent way to conduct our ‘business’ with the Tradists,” he smirked, and was rewarded with a few laughs from his crew.

  “But, before we continue, I need to know who will stand with me. Many of you have fought by my side for years. You have earned my respect and my gratitude. We have carved our place here with blood and swords and Tradist tears. The winds carry whispers of our deeds to every corner of the globe. Come with me, and I will give you the skies. But—” he paused, “But if our way is not to your liking, now is the time to go.”

  He scanned the faces before him. He watched as eyes flicked towards Robbie, who sat silent, staring straight ahead, toying with his fork. The Captain Duke stared back, arms crossed. He did not wish to think on the actions that must be taken if Robbie refused the opportunity before him. The silence stretched on into minutes.

  At long last, Robbie acknowledged the glances in his direction.

  “Bloody hell, don’t pretend as though you’re buying the man’s lies.”

  A shiver ran through the roo
m.

  Robbie stood, pointing a finger at the Captain Duke, “You sit there all high and mighty, talking of different ways. The truth is you’ve lost your appetite for this life. Admit it.” He turned to the assembled pirates, “You think he could have built this without us? He looks down on us and our taste for violence, but it’s fine and well for him to profit from it.”

  Robbie paced through the tables before stopping in the centre of the room, “The Captain Duke,” he sneered. “You have forgotten your place. You fight battles with your reputation to avoid bloodshed. At the first sign of a real fight, you flee back to your Haven to lick your wounds.”

  “And where were you, Robbie Codswaddle?”

  “What do you mean where was I? Oh-ho-ho, you see how he twists my words?”

  “Where were you when we fought against the Tradist guards? Here, in our Haven, deep in your cups after sending our pilots into a trap on bad information. A captain protects his crew. Your incompetence nearly cost Nessa her life. The difference, Robbie, is that I value life over lifestyle. If your wish is to steal and drink all the day long, you are free to do so. But you will not do it here. You speak of me forgetting my place? You ignore my purpose. Every last one of us has been affected by the Tradists in some way. We have seen the effect of their work. We take and we give; we are responsible for our actions, but our actions have the consequence of bettering the livelihood of others. I admit, I am not a man of high morals, but I am more than a greedy thief who whines at having to share his bounty.”

  “A thief? Your true feelings at last. You see how he perceives us? Will you stand for such words?”

  The Captain Duke held his breath. No one spoke in Robbie’s favour, but there were some who would no longer meet his eyes.

  “You were right about one thing. I had lost my way. I doubted our enterprise and questioned its worth. But I see it now more clearly than ever.” The Captain spread out his arms, “Friends, we need not be divided. Stand with me and together we will fight to bring the Tradists to their knees before the people they have wronged.”

  “Your head is in the clouds, Captain. You think our little skirmishes make a difference? The Tradists run the damned world,” said Robbie.

  “You think our battles mean nothing? Tell that to the people of Keswick. Tell that to every man, woman and child who has avoided starvation because of the food we steal. How many have clothed themselves with our wool? How many kept their farms with the seeds we share? The small things count. They grow and amass into bigger things. That’s how change happens.”

  Robbie laughed, “It is not enough. The decent folk have made their choice to be complacent. Maybe once they are starving they will learn to fight like the rest of us.”

  The Captain Duke was shaking with fury. He fought for composure and allowed the man’s words to carry through the hall, echoed by the murmurs of the pilots, many of whom had watched loved ones go hungry in those first bitter years of Tradist control.

  Nessa came to stand beside him, whispering under her breath, “Say the word and I’ll put a bullet through that tongue of his.”

  The Captain Duke was dangerously tempted by her proposition. But he still believed a diplomatic resolution was achievable. It was the safest route, and he would not treat the lives of his crew so casually. Still, he brushed his coat back to stand with hands on hips, fingers twitching toward his pistols.

  “Robbie, you are banished from my crew. Leave, and never return. All who wish to go may follow him without harm. But, if you ever cross us again, I will slit your throats myself.”

  A stunned silence fell over the room. After a moment, Maggie stood and walked over to stand behind Robbie. A half dozen others joined them. Not as many as the Captain Duke had thought might go, but enough to sear his heart. He nodded at Anderssen to lead them out. The small group turned to follow Robbie, leaving the Haven forever.

  Chapter 12: In which our pilots pass the point of no return

  For a moment, Clara felt as though she could breathe again. Robbie and the pilots who chose to go with him were leaving. With narrowed eyes, the assembled pilots watched as they were led from the room. It happened so quickly, she almost missed it.

  Anderssen doubled over, clutching at his chest.

  Robbie turned and raised his pistol towards her.

  A great force slammed into her, pushing her aside as a shot rang out.

  Clara felt the Captain’s body over hers. She felt his tension as he shouted orders to his crew. With a quick glance to see that she was unharmed, he leapt to his feet, pistols drawn.

  Chaos. That was the only description she registered as former allies fought each other.

  Clara hid behind a table as the battle moved into the foyer, her heart beating so hard she thought it might burst from her ribcage. Pistols. Her pistols. They were strapped around her waist as usual. She checked to make sure they were loaded and peeked around the side. She could see Anderssen’s boots lying prone, and blood pooling on the floor. Staying low she made her way over to him.

  His eyes were barely fluttering. His breaths came in short, painful gasps. Clara found the knife wound and applied pressure to halt the bleeding. Shrugging off her coat one arm at a time, she rolled it and placed it beneath his head. She looked for something to bind the wound but was stopped by a gentle hand on her wrist. Anderssen opened his eyes and looked into her own.

  “You’re going to be fine. One of the nurses will come soon. We’ll get help.”

  Anderssen tightened his grip on her hand for the briefest moment. Clara felt her own heart grow cold and she squeezed his hand back as hard as she could. She leaned down to whisper words of comfort, as though she could shield him from the coming end. He smiled at her as the life left his eyes.

  Clara clutched his body to her chest. The tears rolled down her cheeks of their own volition. He was a good man, a kind one. A man who did not deserve to die in a pool of blood on the dining hall floor. Hand shaking, she closed his eyes against the world. Laying his head down on the floor, she shook out her jacket and covered him with it. A burning fury was swelling up in her core.

  Checking her pistols once more, she wiped away her tears, leaving great smears of blood across her face. Then she ran to join the battle.

  Chapter 13: In which our hero faces an unthinkable prospect

  The Captain Duke used the staircase for cover as he shot at the traitors down the hall. As soon as his pistols were unloaded, he ducked behind the wall so Trick could take his place. He was glad they had taken the precaution of carrying extra bullets, despite hoping for a different end to their trouble. But he knew that they would run out eventually.

  “What do you think, Trick?” he asked as the other man ducked down again. A near shot tore into the plaster of the wall across from them.

  “They’ll go for the ships as soon as Robbie gets his act together. We need to get there first.”

  “The window then. I’ll cover you.”

  He waited while Trick reloaded his pistols and made sure his sword was securely fastened around his waist. The Captain Duke took a deep breath and steadied himself, then with a curt nod to his first mate, he rose and began to shoot through the banister.

  Trick somersaulted to the window and shot the latch open. He lifted the heavy pane and put one leg through the frame, aiming his pistol down the hall as the Captain crossed to the window, still firing. The Captain took one last shot as he jumped out and held the frame for his friend. He nearly let go when a shot grazed the wood by his fingers, but Trick rolled out to leap to the ground, and they ran to the corner of the building.

  Trick collapsed, clutching his arm and swearing.

  “Bastards! Bloody goons born under a halfwit moon! Damn them to seven hells!”

  “Show me.”

  “Go, go. I’ll bind it and find somewhere safe. Here, take an extra pistol with you.”

  The Captain Duke tore off a piece of his own shirt and pressed it to his friend’s arm. “Be safe,” he said, and ran fo
r the airship docks.

  What greeted him there was possibly the most frightening sight he had ever seen.

  Robbie and three of his men had already made their way to the docks and were shouting as they ran up the staircases and climbed the ropes. High above, Cat was swinging across from ship to ship, cutting their tethers. Mouse had already taken the helm of the Captain Duke’s ship and was shouting for her to hurry when one of Robbie’s men reached the landing and shot at her before she could untie the final vessel. Instead, Cat ran for the other end of the port, strapping on a glider.

  The Captain Duke charged into the clearing, yelling for Robbie to face him like a man, but he was too late. Robbie reached the top of the stair and aimed his pistol at the girl.

  “Now, Catherine, dear. Do tell your brother to come back down like a good boy.”

  With a fierce look, Cat stepped back and plunged toward the ground, banking against the wind and gliding up to join her brother on the ship, already loaded with all their supplies. Robbie took one shot that missed, and then scrambled to launch the other airship with the help of the three men with him, yelling incoherent orders.

  The Captain Duke watched her fly from the edge of the clearing, waiting until Cat was safely aboard his airship. He signalled to the children to head for the town, heart bursting with pride as Nessa joined him.

  “They’ve cleared out, Captain. Kathy and Luk escaped on the boat, Jimmy and Renault surrendered. Peg and Mags are having a bit of a face off, but those are the last four.”

  “He won’t get far with that ship. The others are faster.”

  Frantic waving from Cat and Mouse caught his attention. They pointed at the port and shouted something inaudible. They were too far to hear. The Captain Duke saw Robbie and his men strap on gliders as they launched the airship to fly south over the Haven.