On Discord Isle (8 page)

The weird thought from a moment ago still had a hold of her, though.
No kings, no sheiks
. An idea came to her. “We don’t have to,” replied Lina. “Look, Lucian’s normally in charge anyway, right? So when we need ordering, he takes the lead, and nothing’s changed there. For the big stuff—”

“Yes,” said Ryan. “That’s the trick. Big stuff, like course changes and fuel and whatnot.”

Lina glared at him. “Let’s do it by committee,” she continued. “The officers who run things normally. Lucian, Reaver Jane, Sarah Lome.”

The crew looked to those named. Lucian collapsed his spyglass and shared a glance with the other officers. Then he gave a shrug.

“Could work,” he said. “I’m mighty tired of an empty purse, and we’ve got to try this sometime.”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” said Sarah Lome.

“We’ll take a Crewman’s Vote on it,” said Reaver Jane. She frowned and folded her arms. “Committee’s going to need one more on it, though.”

“Who?” asked Lucian. “Three’s a good number.”

“I want Lina Stone,” said Jane.

Lina started. The crew stared at her. Her heart fell into her stomach. “What?” she asked. “Why me?”

“Because you keep coming up with these ideas. And if everything goes tits up, you’re going to be the one we blame for it. Official scapegoat. Now, let’s have that vote. All in favor?”

“Hold on,” called a voice. Lina, along with everyone else, glanced back to Oscar Pleasant. “I’m sorry, but this doesn’t seem like a bad idea to anyone? I mean, really, a committee?” The pirate was ratlike, disheveled. No one really liked him much. Even his one-time friends avoided him of late.

Lucian gave him a frank stare. “Do you have a better idea, Mr. Pleasant?”

Oscar looked away and then shrugged. “Well, I mean...no. Not really.”

“Right then,” said Reaver Jane. “Now, all in favor?”

Most every hand shot up. The remainder went along once they saw which way things were going.

“That’s that, then,” said Lucian. “Ship’s Committee, to the helm. Everyone else to your stations.” He grinned. “There’s a fat merchant below who needs to have his holds lightened.”

Everyone roared their approval.

Lina followed the officers back to the helm. Maxim and Konrad worked together to twist the ship about, Konrad on the wheel and Maxim shouting orders down to the Mechanist in the engine room. Lucian waved Lina over.

Reaver Jane eyed her warily. “You’ve an awful lot to say of late,” she snapped.

“She hasn’t been wrong, though,” said Lucian. He clapped a hand on Lina’s shoulder like a proud older brother. “Lina’s relatively new to the life. She hasn’t got the baggage we do, and can see a little more clearly.”

“Maybe,” said Sarah Lome. “Four’s a bad number for a committee. Could mean a tied decision.”

“Well, that’s why her position here is honorary, right, Lina?” He smiled down at her, and it wasn’t altogether jovial. “Lass, Sarah is right. Four’s a bad number for decision-making. You don’t get any say more than the rest of the crew. But we’ll want you here for input, all right?”

Lina thought of something sharp to say, but gave a nod instead.

Jane sighed. “All right. Enough. How do we do this?” She gestured at the deck, toward where the merchant ship would be.

“Same as before,” said Sarah Lome. “We go in fast and hit their sails, drop to the deck and pacify them all. Quick and clean. It’s not a military ship. I don’t see no reason to change things up.”

Jane nodded. “Good.”

She went to leave but Lucian raised a hand. “Hold up. We offer quarter, and avoid unnecessary bloodshed.”

Reaver Jane stopped. “What? Fengel’s gone. Don’t tell me you’ve gone all soft in his place.”

“It’s a good policy,” replied Lucian. “People who think they’ve nothing to lose fight all the harder. There might be a few hired guards down there, but we’ve found that as long as it’s not full of soldiers, which is fairly unlikely, people tend to see sense after a bit of knockin’ about.” He gave her a level look. “Remember, we’re here for the
treasure
. That’s the important thing.”

Reaver Jane returned his gaze. “All right. So long as you remember that’s what we’re after.”

She stalked down the deck. Sarah Lome turned to do the same. Lucian gave Lina a look and gestured for the gunwales.

That went surprisingly smoothly
, she thought as she left to prepare for the attack. Natasha’s crew were a bloodthirsty lot, and Reaver Jane was no exception. That Lucian got his way was surprising, though sensible.
Maybe this is going to work even better than I’d hoped.

Lina went amidships where the equipment lockers were mounted. They’d been opened up, and gunnery mistress Lome was passing out muskets, shot, and powder. Lina took a pistol and checked it, loading as she made her way to the port side of the airship just below the bow. Aside from the flintlock, she had her pair of knives and one other thing as well. She stuffed the barrel of the gun into her waistband and blew a sharp whistle with two fingers. Runt perked up from his doze on the exhaust pipe and gave an answering screech. He rose, stretched, and launched himself to soar across the deck to her shoulder, eliciting yells from startled pirates. Lina caught the scryn and scratched behind his head while he chirruped in pleasure.

The
Dawnhawk
came into line on a direct heading for the vessel below. From the stern Lucian called out commands, and Lina felt a deep vibration in the deck below her feet as their engine kicked into higher gear.

She peered over the side as the merchant ship burst into activity. There were dozens of antlike movements amongst the rigging; sailors furling their sails in a desperate attempt to get away. All pretense was gone. They knew they’d been spotted.

Lina smiled as the airship bore down. Growing up in the slums of Triskelion, she’d learned to defend herself, but until recently she hadn’t gone
looking
for any fights. Life as a pirate had changed that. She wasn’t particularly bloodthirsty and did appreciate Fengel’s gentlemanly code. There
was
an undeniable thrill to the chase, however, and the prospect of actually having real money again almost left her breathless.

The distance shrank between the two vessels. Now that they were close enough, Lina saw that the ship was a big three-master, with the word
Kingfisher
emblazoned in gold letters across its stern. It disappeared beneath their hull as the
Dawnhawk
overtook it, only to reappear as they veered to starboard. The captain of the merchant ship stood on the sterncastle shouting commands. The sailors scurried for the gunwales and forecastle, for weapons and belaying pins.

“Prepare the grapples!” shouted Lucian from the stern. Fat Thomlin and the other pirates assigned to the task took up the great boarding tethers, those long coiled ropes anchored to the deck, their other ends tied to thick chains and iron hooks. “Now!”

The pirates roared out. Grapnels sailed out through the air, dropping into the tangle of sailcloth and rigging below. The
Dawnhawk
shuddered as the ropes caught and pulled taut. The
Kingfisher
jerked. A sailor in the rigging tried desperately to dislodge the hooks or cut them free. Lina’s crewmates threw the rope ladders and drop-lines over the side of the airship, then started clambering down before they’d even had time to fully unroll. The raid was underway.

Reaver Jane, Sarah Lome, and the other more skilled and vicious pirates dropped down to the deck. The sailors tried to fight back, but the captain and first mate gave contradicting orders that Lina’s crewmates were only too happy to exploit. Lina followed shortly thereafter, stopping halfway to clamber over into the
Kingfisher’s
rigging. A burly sailor was waiting for her. He was an ugly man who stank of garlic and reminded her of the obnoxious Oscar Pleasant. Lina lifted her arm and let Runt deal with him.

Lina’s task was to make sure that the boarding tethers weren’t cut away during the raid. They needn’t have really bothered. The lookout was either down below or hiding in his crow’s nest while the sailor behind her was scurrying down the ratlines as fast as he could to escape her hissing, spitting pet. Otherwise, the rigging was empty.

Things were progressing quickly on the deck. Lina moved over to the mainmast, where Lucian and a few of her crewmates fought the
Kingfisher’s
captain and first mate. Lucian performed a wild flourish that sent the captain’s sword flying off down the deck, then pointed the tip of his own in warning.

“Stand down now,” said Lucian with a smile. “Your men are beaten. There’s no need for further bloodshed.”

“We’ll not give in to filthy pirates,” snarled the first mate, brandishing his blade. “We throw down our weapons and we’re as good as dead.” The man had a nasty gash across his brow, and it bled profusely.

Lucian rolled his eyes. “Please. We’re here for your holds, not your lives.” He gestured with his blade at the airship above them. “We are the crew of the airship
Dawnhawk
, and we have a reputation to maintain. I swear that no harm will come to you if you lay down your arms.”

The captain reached out a hand and pulled down his mate’s arm. “That’s not what he means. You’re with the
Dawnhawk?
I’ve heard of you. That’s Captain Fengel’s ship.” He peered at Lucian. “D’you mean that?”

“Sir!” cried the mate. He shot a strange, intense look at his master, then jerked his head oddly toward the low sterncastle.

“They’ve not been a damned help since we agreed to take them back to Edrus,” growled the captain of the
Kingfisher.
“We could have been a hundred leagues away by now if it wasn’t for his stupid ambition. Everyone knows you can’t take an airship! I’ll not risk anymore of the crew on this harebrained scheme.”

Lucian frowned. “What are you two on about?” He glanced at the first mate, and then at the captain again.

Lina knelt to listen. Runt landed suddenly on her shoulders, shifting her off-balance and chirping happily through a bloody maw.

“We’re out of Breachtown,” said the captain. “And the pacification there—”

“Marines forward!” cried a voice.

The recessed door to the sterncastle cabin banged open. Men in blue coats and tricorn hats boiled out with muskets held at the ready. They fired as they came, sending a hail of lead balls down the ship. Pirates and sailors both yelled in alarm. The Bluecoats shot indiscriminately; the first mate and captain of the
Kingfisher
both went down.

A ball smacked into the yardarm Lina perched upon, sending a spray of slivers up at her. She cursed and scrabbled back behind the bulk of the mast for cover. Below, she heard Lucian calling the rest of their crew to face the threat.

Lina waited a moment to peek around the mast. The Bluecoats had finished their first volley and threw themselves at the pirates with bayonets and sabers. Her crewmates fell back a bit at the charge, but with nowhere else to go, they rallied quickly. The two sides met and broke apart into individual struggles that spread out across the deck.

A figure appeared from the captain’s cabin. He was a tall man in an officer’s uniform with a long wig of powdered curls. The epaulets on his shoulder denoted him a colonel. He drew a ridiculously ornate saber and casually climbed the stair up to the poop deck. Two marines framed him as guards, swords drawn and at the ready.

The colonel gazed out at the melee below him. “Kill them all and take the airship,” he cried. “Admiral Wintermourn’ll make us rich as princes if we do. No quarter for pirate dogs!”

Oh Goddess on high. This whole thing was a trap.
No wonder the
Kingfisher
hadn’t run. The Bluecoats aboard had made her play honeypot for the
Dawnhawk
. Every kingdom back on Edrus offered a ludicrous bounty for an intact airship. Whoever this man was, he obviously thought he could claim it. Lina felt a surge of anger; they’d walked right into it.
No. No way in the Realms Below they’re taking our ship from us.

The marine colonel said something quietly to one of his men, who nodded and sheathed his blade. The Bluecoat walked over to the sternside railing, where a fat steel tube was attached to a pivot.

A swivel gun.

Lina stared. A swivel gun was a small cannon, usually used in boarding actions. No sane commander would use one against his own ship. But the Bluecoats had already shown a willingness to gun down their own sailors. Loaded with shot, it would devastate those fighting on the deck, including the Bluecoats there. Somehow Lina didn’t think that the stodgy Perinese colonel would care overmuch.

The marine tilted the gun upright and knelt for a small powder keg and bag of shot stored under the gunwales beneath it. Thankfully, they still had to load the thing.

I don’t have a lot of time.
Lina glanced down and around. No one else on her side seemed to have noticed the danger. There
was
one ally close at hand, though. Reaver Jane stood with her back against the sternmost mast, fending off two marines at once with a cutlass and a long knife.

I’ve got to get down there. But how?
Lina glanced around for another way, and her gaze caught on a loose rope laying on the yardarm at her feet. The far end was part of the topsail rigging for the stern mast. Likely it had been torn free by the grapnels thrown earlier.

A pistol-shot rang out below her. The ball whipped past her head, agitating Runt into a screech. Lina started in surprise as well. Acting on reflex she grabbed the rope and kicked away from the yardarm.

“Chirr!” screamed her pet.

Lina sailed through the air, over the melee, dead-on for the mast and Reaver Jane’s struggle. She collided with a Bluecoat feet-to-back in a blow that stunned her and dropped them both in a heap.

Runt writhed away off her, taking flight in indignation for the relative safety of the topsail rigging. Something slammed into the deck near her head and she scrambled to her feet. It was the other Bluecoat.

Reaver Jane flicked the blood from her cutlass and raised an eye at Lina. “You keep trying these things, you’re going to get hurt.”