Raiders' Ransom (29 page)

“I am the Sunoon Technologies Play System AI,” it booms, setting our boat shaking. “But you can call me PSAI if you want.” Sailors and raiders, everyone cowers in terror as the sound blasts around them.

“I understand you are planning some kind of battle. However, I really don't think that's a good idea. My primary user might drown, and then where would I be?”

On the English warship, a soldier raises his rifle. There's a crack, and a bullet whines through the air. In an instant, the air fills with bright, glittering shields. They shine like polished steel, hundreds of them spinning and dancing in front of every soldier, every raider.

“Your primitive weapons are nothing to me,” booms the huge voice of the heads. “They will achieve nothing and are very irritating.” And for some reason, the head above us looks down at me and winks one of its enormous eyes.

Someone starts screaming. It's strange to hear a man screaming like that.

“So, perhaps we can try and find a way out of this most unpleasant situation? Personally I prefer battles of wits, like chess, to brute force.” The head nearest Medwin's dragonboat tilts so it can get a better look at him.

“You can kill me, demon,” Medwin shouts, “but a hundred raiders will rise up to destroy you!”

Although they don't look like they're up to much rising at the moment.

“Not a chess player, then?” booms the voice. “Oh well, perhaps a bit much to expect.” The heads all swivel slowly in the air. “Now then, where's the gentleman from Scotland?”

And on the tall ship, Randall shoves Jasper in front of him. “Here he is!” shouts Randall. “Eat him if you want, but leave me!”

“What a disgusting thought,” say the heads. “I assure you, I only want to talk.” Then comes an enormous sigh, like the wind through a forest.

“And can't we go somewhere dry?”

My father's coming! One minute I'm happy, coz now he's seen that ghost head, he's gonna have to believe me when I tell what's happened. The next I feel like my guts are gonna turn inside out. Coz if he don't believe me, he'll have me spiked for a traitor.

We're on No Mercy Island. Me, Lexy, and Lilly. It's a decent size, mostly covered with woods — willow, alder, and such. The mog liked that — legged it off up the hill as soon as we beached. Off into the bushes, ain't seen nothing of it since. But we're down by the water, in the mud and pebbles, chewing on some skanky dry biscuits Lilly got out from her ration box.

There's just one ghost now, and it's shrunk down again. It's floating around higher up the beach coz it don't want to be near the water. Lilly's in her boat, working to fix her
mainsail. And that leaves me and Lexy chewing and waiting. Waiting for my father, and the English scum Randall. Coz they're coming here. To talk, like the ghost told them to. And when it told them to let us go, the boats just parted, and Lilly sailed us out using the jib.

The English ships and the dragonboats are still waiting out in the bay, facing off against each other. It's getting colder, windier. Above, there's clouds coming: small scudders, and big billowers behind them. I chew on my biscuit, which takes some chewing, and look down at Lexy. In her scrappy, soggy dress, with my leathers over it, and her hair all snaggled.

“I'm sorry,” I say, “for the way my father kept you.”

Lexy looks surprised, then she smiles and takes off my jacket.

“You better take this back. I don't think Daddy would be very happy to see me wearing it.”

Lilly gets out of her boat and crunches up the beach to me and Lexy.

“Well,” she says, “the halyard's about fixed as I can make it. I just hope it'll hold.”

“There's my daddy!” says Lexy, pointing at a rowboat. It's heading out from the English fleet toward this island. And there's another rowboat, heading here from Father's dragonboat. Randall's close enough that I can see him, with some man wearing black next to him. I don't care about Randall, though, I care about Father. I keep hoping he'll look at me, then maybe I'll get an idea of what he's thinking. But he
keeps staring dead straight at Randall, who's staring back. If a gull was to fly in between them right now, it'd get fried up by all that hate.

The boats skim over the breaking waves and crunch up the beach a way off from us, both at the same time. Father leaps from his boat with his warriors before it's even stopped moving, and starts wading up the shore through the lapping breakers.

“Raiders!” shouts Randall. “Stand still or I'll have you shot!” Then he heaves himself into the water and waddles after my father. Father stops, and his warriors fan out behind him, swords drawn. Lexy makes a move, like she's going to run toward Randall.

“Don't!” I say to her. “Keep still.”

It ain't safe to do anything, not until we know what's what. And you can't trust the English. Who knows who they'll shoot at? Maybe even a little kid running to her daddy. There ain't one of them ain't two-faced and tricky.

My father and Randall stand in the breakers, glaring at each other. Behind them, Father's warriors face off against Randall's soldiers. Except one. He's staring at me. Why did Father bring Roba? Why didn't Ims come?

“Well, English,” says my father. “We're here. What do we do next?”

They both turn and look up the beach at the ghost, which is floating around near some bushes.

“Demon!” calls my father. “We're here. What do you want from us?”

“Hmmm,” it says. “That's an interesting question. You have to understand, I've been offline for one hundred forty-seven years and so my understanding of your quarrel is based entirely upon what these children have told me … But on that basis, and assuming you aren't all a delusion caused by prolonged shutdown, I would like to be taken to your very best scientists, as I am sure that I am in need of a thorough service.”

We all stare at the ghost.

After a bit my father says, “Who can understand this nonsense? The demon's trying to mess with our heads.”

Randall snorts.

“I didn't leave battle and break my attack to come here and listen to a load of gibbering. That thing is clearly some horror from before the Collapse. If the Ambassador hadn't been so insistent, I would have blasted it into oblivion.”

“Doing what your Scottish puppet master tells you?” sneers my father, nodding at the black-dressed man in the English boat. Randall's face goes red and puffy.

“Don't be insolent, you raider hound.”

“Better a hound than a poodle,” shouts Roba. Father glares at him.

Randall says, “Brought another of your whelps along, Medwin? I hear you only have two. How reckless to bring them both against the English might.”

“I brought them coz I don't have any worries about fighting a few boatloads of English cowards. I saw you've even
got the Scots sailing about behind you. Giving you orders, are they?”

“I should kill you and all your raider scum for that!”

The black-dressed man steps out of the English boat.

“We are simply neutral observers of the action,” he says, wading toward my father and Randall. “But now this ancient artifact has appeared, we do have an interest in it. I am sure you're both aware that Greater Scotland would be the best caretaker of such a fascinating object. Our museum collections would be able to provide safe storage for the benefit of future generations.”

“Ooh, a museum,” mutters the ghost. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Why do you want this demon?” says my father. “And so badly you'd pay a small fortune to get it raided out of England for you?”

“What are you talking about?” says Randall, checkin' the Scot. “What does he mean? Are you paying the raiders to pillage us?”

The Scot's face don't shift, the little smile stays on like it's painted.

“Greater Scotland has an interest in ancient artifacts, purely for the purpose of gaining knowledge. As to the accusation that we would hire the raiders to pillage them out of England, well that's clearly ridiculous.”

“It's true!” I shout. “Aileen said the Scots want that thing coz it's some ancient weapon!”

The ghost looks worried.

“Um, I believe there may be some misunderstanding here. I'm not actually a weapon, in case any of you were considering throwing me around.” It pauses. “Although I am extremely valuable.”

But my father and Randall ain't even listening. “You've been pillaging our shores for ancient artifacts?” says Randall. “What else have you taken?” My father smiles. “Apart from your daughter?” “Why, you savage!”

“Chill it, English,” says my father. “We didn't take your precious loot. It was that girl there.” He points at Lilly. “She brought it to us, claims she got it from your sis. So you'd better ask
her
what's going on.”

Randall's frothing at the mouth now.

“Are you working for the raiders?” he shouts at Lilly. “Is that how they knew to take my daughter? I always thought your village was a nest of vipers, but I had no idea I should have been locking up the children as well.” Lilly goes white as a sheet.

“No! It ain't like that! I just wanted to help. I just wanted to get Alexandra back so she could tell how we ain't traitors. Then you'd let the captains free, like you said, and Andy and the others wouldn't have to fight.”

The scumbag Randall looks at Lilly like she's a toad that's started talking.

“So, you're worried some raggedy sweetheart of yours might get killed in battle,” and he gives a nasty laugh. “Well, don't be. Because I'm not such a fool as to let untrained, traitorous commoners loose on my fleet. The wretches from your village are on a forced march.” He looks at my father. “Heading for raider lands with the rest of my army.”

“But Andy doesn't know how to fight!” says Lilly.

Randall sneers at her. “By the time they get here, those village idiots will have been beaten into soldiers.”

“They won't be soldiers for long.” My father laughs. “Not once they meet us. They won't be anything after that.”

Lilly gasps. Like someone punched her.

“When they arrive,” snarls Randall, “my army will wipe you raiders from the face of the land.”

My father and Randall look like they're gonna spike each other right there, but a voice calls out, “Wait!”

It's the Scot. He walks toward them both, holding out his hands.

“Please! Don't be distracted from why we are here on this island. It's not to start the battle, but because this incredible machine asked us to come. So let's find out why it wanted us here.”

The ghost looks a bit panicky.

“Well, now,” it stutters. “I can't say I actually
wanted
any of you. It would be more accurate to say that I
didn't
want to end up sinking down to the bottom of the sea.”

“Why are we here, then?” shouts my father. “I got better things to do than hang around with demons and idiots. I've got English to kill!”

“Give me my daughter and I'll be happy to get back to the fight. Then we'll see who gets killed,” Randall shouts back.

“Hold on,” cries the Scot. “Can we be calm for a moment? We all want something here, so let's just think about it rationally. I want the ancient machine, the Prime Minister wants his daughter, and I'm sure you would like your son safely back with you.”

“So we can spike him for a traitor,” says Roba quietly, but loud enough so I can hear.

“I am not dealing with a murdering pirate!” cries Randall. “I intend to teach him a lesson all raiders will remember.”

“They'll remember how there wasn't an English left alive!” says Father.

The Scot cuts in again. “That's as may be, but we still need to settle matters here. I suggest a simple truce for as long as it takes to get your children away, and for me to take this artifact to the sunships.”

Randall opens his mouth, then shuts it. And it's like there's a smile wanting to get on his face, but he ain't showing it.

“All right,” he says. “A temporary truce. I suggest two hours.”

My father looks surprised. But he looks at me, looks at Roba. Then he nods.

“All right. And you Scots can take the demon if you want. But you ain't getting your money back.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” says the Scot, but he looks pleased as anything. He crunches a few steps up the beach and picks up the jewel. The ghost bobs around him looking well happy.

“I don't want to go in a museum,” it says. “It would be terribly boring. And I really, really do need to get some technical support. For a start, I need to establish whether or not this is all some ghastly hallucination.”

“It's all right,” says the Scot, like he's soothing a little kid, “we'll look after you. And then you can look after us.” The ghost looks at Lilly.