The Sail Weaver (27 page)

“I’m glad,” Tristan said fervently.

“And I of you,” Fenfyr gently pulled him in close so he was partially covered by the dragon’s feathers. Tristan relaxed against the warm body. “Sleep, Tris, I will watch until it’s time for you to go.”

The deck was alive with the bustle of activity as the crew got ready to launch Tristan and Thom. The
Noble Lady
had pulled ahead of the
Winged Victory
easily, Cook said he suspected that the larger ship was having trouble with the sails and was running with only the engines. That came as good news for Tristan, at least the ship wouldn’t be going at a high Wind speed when they tried to slip by on his small sail. He’d spent the last hour trying to remember how it felt gathering the willowisps in deep space, and then Weaving them into the small sail. Every now and then he would check on Thom. Despite the man’s easy assurances, Tristan could tell he was worried about what was going to happen and how many of the crew had remained loyal.

“The suits are ready,” Harkins said, walking over to where Tristan was still leaning against Fenfyr.

“Thank you, Harkins,” Tristan replied, then turned to Fenfyr. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes,” the dragon said, gently touching him with his head tufts. “Be careful.”

“You, too.”

“Are you ready?” Thom asked.

“No.”

“Comforting, let’s go then.”

Thom led the way to the quarterdeck where Harkins and Cook were waiting with two suits. Once they were in them, Cook showed Tristan how to control the air flow and use the suit-to-suit communicators. As they locked the last of the latches into place, Tristan had to fight an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia. Somehow being out in the void with nothing but his hissing, half-strength bubble, seemed preferable to this. He sighed and gave the thumbs up. The plan was that the ship would slow and they would slip off the
taffrail
and into space. Then Tristan would call together the willowisps and make the sail while the
Noble Lady
was still in sight, just in case something went wrong. He took one last look around the ship then stepped onto the rail. At a signal from Alden, he and Thom stepped off and they were floating free. The suits were tethered together and Thom bobbed several yards from him.

Concentrating, Tristan focused on the spell to call the willowisps, the Latin echoed oddly in his helmet. He felt sure it wasn’t going to work for them a second time when he noticed the small sparks starting to gather around them. They bounced between the two suits as if they were curious of what they were. Tristan ignored it and continued until he was sure he had enough to make their sail. Slowly he changed the spell, moving the words from the Gathering to the Weaving, watching as the sparkles began moving together, in and out and around until they had a small sail that looked more like a parachute than anything. With the final part of the Weaving spell, Tristan tied the willowisps to himself, using his body as a rough replacement for the Elemental Interface. Nodding at Thom to let him know it was time, he moved the sail out of the shadow of the ship and into the Winds.

Once in the Winds they were whipped along at breakneck speed. This time they didn’t tumble, the sail was more stable than his first effort, and they pulled away from the
Noble Lady
faster than Tristan would have dreamed possible. He had no idea how long the suits would withstand the buffeting of the Winds, but no sooner had he thought that, than the huge mass of the
Winged Victory
appeared in front of them. Focusing on the sail again, he managed to maneuver them down and under the ship. He was working so hard to keep them stable that the
clang
of the hook catching the side of the ship
surprised him. Speaking quickly, he released the willowisps with a soft thank you so they could continue on their way, and the next moment Thom was pulling him towards the hole in the side of the ship. It seemed only an instant and they were inside. Riggan helped them out of their suits as Sheea closed the hole in the atmosphere again.

“It’s good to see you, sirs,” Riggan said, grinning.

“And you, Riggan, I was sure you would have been found out by now,” Thom said, slapping the man on the back.

“Who, me, sir? They couldn’t find their asses…” He cleared his throat. “They never expected us to hide down here, and so they haven’t come looking.”

“I thought I ordered this hole closed,” Thom said, gesturing to the side of the ship.

“Ah yes, and so you did. Mr. Shearer thought we might need a small hole, just in case, sir, and so he opened it. Now that you’re here, I’m sure he will do his best to close it up.”

“I’m sure he will,” Thom grinned. “Now, let’s figure out how to get my ship back.”

XXVII

The massive lower hold was only partially lit, casting eerie shadows along the walls. In the distance, Tristan could see the gentle sparkle of willowisps. He ground his teeth together at the flash of anger that his sails had been dumped into the same space that had held the Vermin sails.
Not for long
, he promised them. Riggan had kept the Interface safe, hidden in the bag Tristan had given him. When he checked it, there was still a soft glow indicating it was connected to the sails. All they needed to do was drop it back into place and get the sails back onto the masts. The sound of a door swinging open made him hold his breath. A moment later, Shearer appeared.

“Riggan?” he called.

“Here, sir, we have visitors,” Riggan answered.

“What?” The boatswain walked towards them, then stopped, a shocked look on his face as he recognized Thom and Tristan. “Mr. Barrett! I never thought I’d see you again!”

“Thank you, Shearer, it’s good to be back,” Thom said, shaking his hand. “How many loyal crew can we count on?”

“More than Fuhrman knows, that’s for sure.” Shearer laughed. “Even some of those that supported him at first are not so sure now. It’s the death scent of those sails hanging above us. The Rogue can’t get them to fly, and Stemmer told them to run under power to a
rendezvous to get a, and I quote ‘proper Interface for the sails’ which, as I’m sure you know, can only mean one thing.”

“A slaved dragon,” Tristan said.

“Yes, and while there are those that still think that’s the only way to win, there are others who are beginning to doubt it. They’ll support you, Mr. Barrett.”

“Captain,” Tristan corrected him.

“What?” Riggan asked, delighted.

“Admiral O’Brian said that the Joint Chiefs had restored Captain Barrett’s rank, and he is now rightful Master of the
Winged Victory,
” Tristan explained, hiding a smile when Thom blushed.

“Good. Finally things are settling down the way they should.” Shearer beamed. “We’ll have to take the ship deck by deck.”

“I figured as much,” Thom said. “Once we get to the brig, we need to get everyone out without alerting the rest of the crew.”

“You’ll need a distraction to manage that.”

“We’ll figure one out. The quieter we can be at first, the more success we’ll have when we reach the top decks. There are two frigates inbound to support us, I’m not sure that they’ll be here in time.”

“Fenfyr and Taminick are also waiting to join the fight at our signal,” Tristan added.

“First things first,” Thom said. “We need as many of the loyal crew who are off-watch to get down here so we can formulate a solid battle plan. And can you get us
sidearms
?”

“Yes, Captain!” Shearer snapped off a salute. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Shearer.” Thom waited until the man was gone before turning to Riggan and Sheea. “Report, Riggan.”

“Well, sir, it’s like Mr. Shearer was saying, some of the crew that supported Stemmer and Fuhrman are losing their courage in the face of those sails. Even their staunchest supporters are unsure about slaving a dragon on a Navy ship. Sure and there’s a few who still think that the Vermin tech is the only way to beat the Vermin—fight fire with fire—but more think what’s been done has put a stain on the ship. Some of the more superstitious are convinced that the dragons are haunting the ship, what with all the odd noises they’re hearing on the crew decks.” Riggan grinned. “Not that I know anything of that,
of course.”

“Of course not.” Tristan smiled back.

“The Air Weavers are being held in officers’ territory when not on deck. I managed to get Sheea away when they were taking her to the brig.”

“The brig?” Thom asked.

“I refused to work with those sails on the ship,” she said firmly. “I told them they could toss me overboard like they had the two of you, but I was not going to help them with that filth.” She shuddered. “So they were taking me to the brig with the promise that I was to be a…” she swallowed unable to continue.

“You know what Fuhrman had in mind for her, Captain Barrett, sir,” Riggan said. “His perversions are well known. So, on the way down to the brig, the ghost of the dragons struck and
poof
she disappeared right from the lift! Mr. Aubrey disappeared from the sickbay, and we’ve tried to get to General Muher, but they keep him chained in the Captain’s cabin.”

“We’ll get him out of there, Riggan,” Thom assured him.

“I know you will, sir. I never doubted that you and Master Tristan would be back. It’s why we opened up the hole and have been waiting for your signal ever since. We knew you’d come, and that once you were here—well, sir, we knew you would be wanting the ship.”

“I do, and more. The Vermin are coming and we have to be there to stop them. The fleet doesn’t stand a chance without us, and I’ll be damned before we miss that battle!”

“We’ll be there sir, you haven’t missed a battle yet,” Riggan said.

“How hard will it be to get the sails up, Tristan?” Thom asked.

“It shouldn’t be too hard, not if the men cooperate and the dragons help. Once the Vermin sails are gone, it should be only a matter of rehanging them. They were bonded to the ship, and they still recognize the Interface, so it
should
be simple.”

“That would make things a lot easier.” Thom paced. “We need to be quiet as we take the decks, so I think blades as much as possible if people won’t join us. Riggan, is anyone in communications with us?”

“Officer Brown is, sir, and I believe this is her watch.”

“Can you get word to her to lock down communications from the lower decks?” Thom asked.

“Consider it done,” Riggan said and slipped away through the darkened hold.

“I have no idea how he gets around, but he appears and disappears all over ship,” Sheea said. “Before they brought me down here, the rumors of the hauntings were already starting—odd clanks and other sounds would come through the walls. Several people disappeared on their way to various places and the Weaver’s quarters have been sealed from the inside and, at least before I was taken, they were still unsure how to get in. There’s a rigged charge on the door so they can’t cut through.”

“Riggan is a handy man to have on your side,” Tristan said.

“Very,” Thom agreed with a grin.

The sound of the lift and the door opening had them moving into the shadows. A large group walked out of the lift. Tristan guessed the lift had to have been over capacity to carry so many. Patrick Aubrey was with them. He stopped once they were out. “Captain?” he said to the dark.

“Aubrey,” Thom said, stepping out so he could be seen. “It looks like you’ve gotten your promotion back as well.”

“Thank you, sir,” the man said, a feral glint in his eye. “I’ve been looking forward to the chance to explain to Fuhrman once and for all that I outrank his sorry ass.”

Tristan was a little surprised. He’d taken Aubrey for a steady, older officer who was content with his position on the ship. Of course, now he realized that the Second Officer was probably originally the First Officer and Thom’s second-in-command. A man didn’t reach that rank without a few battles under his belt. Now that he had a chance to show his true colors, Aubrey’s place as a fighting man seemed obvious. The sword at his side seemed natural.

“I know you have, Patrick, and I’ve been waiting to have the same discussion with Gary Stemmer.” Thom grinned as Aubrey handed him a pistol and a sword. “We need a plan.”

“I’ve been thinking about that for a long time,” Aubrey said. “The next deck is nearly empty. Thanks to the hauntings, the crew has been avoiding the lower half of the ship. The few that remain are security on patrols, two patrols per deck, the size of the patrols vary.
They walk the deck, and their circuit takes about fifteen minutes from bow to stern. If one group takes the secondary lift and the other the primary, we should be able to take out both patrols simultaneously. We should be able to take the bottom four decks that way. Brown has communications blocked, even though everything is showing as green.”

“Good start.” Thom nodded.

“What about the other decks?” Tristan asked, accepting a sword and a pistol from one of the men.

“It might get tricky. I have no idea how many men are on those decks right now. More than the bottom few, less than usual. There is a twenty-four hour guard on the brig doors.”

“Okay, we need to take those decks as quietly as possible, words by choice, blade if they fight, try to keep gunfire to a minimum. Once we’re out of this hold, sound is going to carry,” Thom said and the group nodded. “We will continue up until we can rendezvous on the brig deck. We’ll come at them from both sides. If communications are down, the only problem we have is if someone gets away.”

“No one is getting away, sir!” one of the men shouted. “If they are loyal they will fight with us, if they are Stemmer and Fuhrman’s men, well, they can just go quietly into the brig or die like the Vermin filth they are.”

A ragged cheer broke out at the man’s words and Thom glanced over at Tristan. “The Master Weaver said that once we have the Vermin sails gone, our sails should go back up quickly. Once they are in place, we are heading off to meet the Vermin, they’re coming in, men, and we’re not going to miss this fight!”

“No, sir!” they chorused.

“Now, remember, quiet is the key, and we will rendezvous outside the brig. Once we’ve freed the others from there, we will decide how we want to take the upper decks. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain!” Aubrey said, and the others shouted agreement as well.

“Okay, let’s go.”

A small group formed behind Thom and Tristan. To his surprise, Tristan noticed that Riggan had rejoined them, sword in hand. Thom nodded to Aubrey and they set off, Thom’s group headed
towards the primary lift while the others moved through the hold to the secondary lift. Tristan stepped in beside Thom, aware of the weight of the weapons he was carrying. After the bombings, all the Masters had weapons training, but he didn’t think the classes were intended for re-taking a warship. Still, he had no intention of being left behind. As the lift slowed, his stomach gave an odd twist.

Thom was out the door first, signaling the others to silence. In the quiet of the deck, all Tristan could hear was the breathing of their group and the hammering of his heart. After several seconds, Thom indicated they should follow him and he slipped silently down the corridor, holding up his hand when the sound of a door opening echoed through the hallway. Three men stepped into the corridor and stopped dead, staring at Thom and his group. One of them turned to run, but Riggan was on him faster than Tristan imagined, driving the man to the floor, his blade held against his throat.

“By act of the Joint Chiefs, I am legally Captain and commander of this ship, are you with me or against me?” Thom asked quietly. The men regarded him with round eyes.

“You’re a Guild lover,” the man on the floor said, spitting in Thom’s direction. Before anyone could say anything else, Riggan slit the man’s throat.

“I ask again, join me or fight me, your choice. He made his.” Thom pointed to the corpse on the floor.

“With you, sir,” one of the men said.

“Good.” Thom looked at him. “Are there more?”

“Not with us, sir,” the man said. “No one would patrol this deck.”

“Okay,” Thom said, turning back towards the lift. “You can keep up yo
ur patrol.
I’m trusting in your word that you are with the crew. If I find out differently…” He let the threat hang in the air as he glanced at the body again before he gestured for the group to move out. “I need a volunteer to stay here and make sure this deck is secure.”

“Here, sir.” One of the men stepped out.

“Thank you, Ortiz, if you have any trouble, solve it simply.”

“Yes, sir,” Ortiz answered, grinning at the two security men. “Clean and simple is my favorite way.”

Thom nodded and they piled back into the lift. The next two
floors went smoothly, the men surrendering even before Thom could open his mouth. Tristan was getting the feeling that they were being set up. Whether it was intentional or not, the vague sense of unease was answered on the next deck. There were seven security men waiting by the lift. Thom must have sensed something was wrong as they reached the deck—he shouted “Down!” to the group, shoving Tristan aside. As soon as the doors opened, the security patrol opened fire. Tristan heard one of their men shout in pain, and he was aware that Thom jumped out of the lift, blade drawn and, without hesitating, ran the front man through without a word.

The rest of their group was pouring out of the lift now, two of the patrol broke loose and started running up the corridor. Waving his sword, Riggan led a party of men after them. Tristan was pushing himself up when he sensed movement headed towards him. Instincts he didn’t know he had kicked in and he was dodging the blow from the sword before it could connect with his head. He came up under the man’s swing and kicked out towards the middle of the man’s mass, the way he’d learned in his self-defense classes. It didn’t do any damage, but it did serve to surprise the man long enough for Thom to step in and neatly disarm the man with a blow that removed his arm below the elbow.