The Sail Weaver (31 page)

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Authors: Muffy Morrigan

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BOOK: The Sail Weaver
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“I have to fight the ship,” Tristan said, leaning against the dragon.

“I know you do, and I have to fight, too, this is our first battle together. At least it’s not like the bombing.”

“What are you talking about?” Tristan turned enough so he could see Fenfyr.

“I was helpless to stop that—we had been talking half an hour before and I was at the Compound talking with Darius when one of the members of the Stars Plot contacted him. He said that he hoped we had wished the Guild Masters goodbye because it was over for them. No more than a minute later we heard the explosion. I flew as fast as I could,” Fenfyr paused, sighing softly, the dragon equivalent of silent tears. “When I got there the council hall was gone, there was human blood everywhere. I was there before any of the rescue teams, Darius was right behind me, and we started moving the rubble. I found you.”

“Fen…”

“This is easier, Tristan. I know we are walking into battle, it’s not like that day when we were laughing together and then the world exploded.” Fenfyr tapped him with his head tufts. “I am not saying it will be easy, but I know Thom is a fighter, I know you are a fighter and I know…”

“That I am not letting anything get through to you, sir,” Riggan said, appearing out of nowhere as always. “I have your uniform ready.”

“Thank you, Riggan.” Tristan changed his shirt and coat in the main room so he could spend as much time before the battle with Fenfyr as he could. Once he had his formal uniform on, he leaned back into the dragon’s embrace. “I’m not ready, Fen.”

“Yes, you are, Tris, you are more ready than you know,” the
dragon assured him. “You’ll see.”

The call to quarters rapped out over the ship-wide system followed by Shearer’s voice. “All hands to battle stations.”

“Be careful, Fenfyr.” Tristan said, running his hand over the dragon’s head.

“You too, Tris,” Fenfyr said, gently nudging him with his nose. “Watch out for yourself and the Weaver, Riggan.”

“Of course, Master Fenfyr, we will see you at the victory celebration.”

“Yes,” the dragon said and with one more small nudge, slipped out the stern gallery windows.

Tristan took a breath and tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. It was hard knowing what they were heading into, letting Fenfyr go. He knew the dragon had fought in battles before—in fact he’d been with Darius at the
Jupiter
Incursion—but somehow seeing it, experiencing it made it so much more real. He squared his shoulders and headed to the stairs and up onto the quarterdeck.

Thom was already there, waiting by the Elemental Interface. “I’m taking the helm personally, Tristan, I know this ship better than anyone, so together we should be able to manage it well.”

Tristan nodded. “Good idea.” He stepped up to the Interface, he realized that he could see the flash of fire and the sparkling glow of ships sails in the distance. He could see the crew and guns on the main deck, and the bright red of the Marines uniforms scattered throughout them all. On the quarterdeck the officers stood waiting while three gunner’s mates manned the rear guns.

“Are you ready?” Thom asked.

“Yes,” Tristan said firmly. He didn’t have any other choice.

Before he could put his hands on the Interface, and before Thom stepped the three paces to the helm, the captain held out his hand. “If something goes wrong, Tristan, I just want you to know it’s been a pleasure to serve with you.”

“It’s been a pleasure to serve with you, Thom. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“You either.” The captain squeezed Tristan’s hand again and stepped to the helm.

Tristan put his hands on the Elemental Interface and spoke the spell to ready the willowisps for the battle.

“Incoming vessel identify yourself!” a voice snapped over the comm.

“This is Captain Thom Barrett in the
Winged Victory
, we’re coming straight in, can you keep the small stuff off us?”


Winged Victory?
I have no ship…” The communications broke off for a moment. “Yes, sir,
Victory.”

“Well, Tristan,” Thom looked over with a smile. “Here we go.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

XXXI

 

The
Winged Victory
was drawing near the edge of the chaos of the battle when Thom requested the fleet-wide
comm
to be piped onto deck, so they could keep track of the action. The chatter continued for three minutes before a shocked
“My God, what the hell is
that ship
?!?!” came over the system and all the noise fell silent.

“They weren’t expecting us,” Thom said with a grin.

“That’s good.” Tristan smiled back.

The
Victory
had reached the edge of the battle, and they backed off their speed, giving the Naval ships a chance to get out of their way as they drove in towards the front lines. A small frigate passed by, its sails tattered and hull broken. Tristan looked away, knowing he couldn’t dwell on that now, or worry about helping them. The hospital ships were hanging at the back of the fleet and the smaller ship was limping towards them, he hoped they reached them in time.

The fleet-wide chatter started again. Tristan tried to guess where the ships were by watching the action in front of him. He quickly gave up. Space around them was full of ships and weapons’ fire. Dark Vermin vessels were shadowing some of the smaller ships and then suddenly the ship would disappear in a flash of bright light. He swallowed and looked where they were heading to the massive dark shapes of the Vermin heavy cruisers. As he watched, something flashed out from one of the ships, heading towards a dragon fighting
alongside Naval ship. A black line caught the dragon’s wing and began reeling it in. Before he could say anything another Navy ship—he guessed it was the
Odyssey
and her back-up—headed straight for the dragon, then skimmed between the dragon and the Vermin ships—a moment later the dragon pulled free. Tristan swallowed hard, knowing Fenfyr would soon be close to those ships.

Something rocked the ship—a small Vermin gunboat had managed to work its way inside the fleet and was firing at every ship it passed. One of the Navy’s small
corvette
s swooped in behind it and started firing. The
Victory
moved on, passing up the smaller battles for the main line of the war.

The fire got thicker as they got closer. The Naval boats were giving way as they moved through, but the Vermin were now targeting the
Victory
, trying to keep them from reaching the front line. Tristan heard a distant
thump
as shot pounded the lower decks. So far, Thom had not returned fire. Tristan wondered what he was up to, but trusted him and carefully kept the willowisps in line, knowing this sedate pace and seemingly simple cruise would not last for long.

He could see the big ships of the
Stellar
class, the largest ships the fleet had—before the
y built the
Winged Victory.
Smaller ships wove in and out between them, and Tristan could make out the debris of what had been the
Sirius.

“This is Barrett of the
Winged
Victory,”
Thom said. Shot slammed against the ship.

“Welcome, Thom,” Admiral O’Brian replied. “My flag is on
Polaris
. We’ve been waiting for you.”

“We came as fast as we could, Admiral, thanks for leaving a few for us,” Thom said confidently. Tristan saw the crew on deck grin.

“We couldn’t have you cut your teeth on a few leftovers, could we?” O’Brian joked, but Tristan could hear the strain in his voice.

“Thank you, sir,” Thom said.

“We’ll do our best to keep them off your back. The big one in the center is the one taking the dragons. So far we’ve saved most of the dragons, though we’re pretty sure they’ve hooked a few.”

“Yes, sir!” Thom looked over at Tristan. The glance said volumes. The fleet was losing, the rumors had been right. If the heavy Vermin cruisers decided to move against the fleet, it wouldn’t
be a question of running, there wouldn’t be anything or anyone left to run.

Thom thumbed on the ship-wide systems. “All hands prepare to engage.” He put his hands on the helm. “We’re heading in, Admiral.”

“Dragon speed, Thom.”

Tristan turned his attention back to the Elemental Interface, he slipped his hands into the battle straps and braced himself as the ship came up on the large Naval vessels. The Vermin shots aimed at
Victory
had stopped and that was worrying Tristan. Something flashed in his peripheral vision and he saw Fenfyr, Taminick and the huge mass of Darius beside them. There were two other dragons the size of Darius that Tristan had never seen before. They closed in formation with the others and plowed through the Navel line as
Victory
broke through.

As soon as the
Winged Victory
passed the
Polaris
the Vermin opened fire. The smaller ships—about the size of the Navy’s frigates—opened up with full broadsides that slammed into the hull over and over. Then the fire changed, the shot heading up over their heads. Tristan sensed a hole in the sails and turned to repair it, focusing on the willowisps. Another round and more holes tore through them. The shot the Vermin were using seemed to be designed to destroy the sails. Over the screams on deck, Tristan found it hard to concentrate.

“Tristan, you need to strengthen the sails,” Thom shouted. Tristan glanced over, blood was running over Thom’s face.

“I don’t know if I…” Tristan stopped when the Vermin ship in the center fired its hook again. The vile thing shot out and caught a dragon and began dragging it towards the ship. Tristan recognized
Taminick’s
bright red against the dark sails. Before the ships could move in to help, another dragon was there, putting himself between the Vermin ship and Taminick. Another Vermin vessel approached, firing on them, and the dragon turned and attacked the small gunboat. Killing it, he left it floating as he turned his attention back to the red dragon struggling desperately to get free. The dragon flew back and snapped the black line between his teeth. As he did, another hook flew out and caught him, even as Taminick tried to pull away. The other dragon was being reeled in and when she tried to help him, he shoved her away.  “No! Fenfyr!”  Tristan screamed.

Tristan started to shift the sails to move the
Winged Victory
to where Fenfyr was being dragged helplessly through space. The sails responded, catching the Winds, and the ship started to turn. As it began a slow turn, Tristan caught sight of the embattled fleet, the
Rigel
currently under heavy fire. He knew he couldn’t do what he was about to do and risk the entire fleet. With one last look at Fenfyr, he turned away and let the
Odyssey
and her companions do their job, trying not to think about Fenfyr being taken by the Vermin. Instead he focused that energy into the spell to strengthen the sails. He could f
eel the willowisps beginning to
Weave themselves into a new configuration.

A huge
boom
shook the deck—the first of the heavy cruisers had opened fire. Tristan heard Thom swear, but he stayed focused on the sails. They had to be able to get to that big ship and stop them from taking the dragons, but before that they had to stop the other heavy cruisers before the Vermin finished destroying the remaining fleet. Another boom sounded followed by the rattle of hard shot across the deck. Tristan heard Riggan grunt in pain. The next shot had a weird whistling sound as it hit the ship high up on the masts. Tristan felt the blow through the sails, but knew it hadn’t damaged them. The shot fell to the deck.

“They’re glowing red!” Riggan whispered in awe. “I’ve never seen that.”

Tristan risked a look up. The sails had changed from their soft golden sparkle, the willowisps were still moving and Weaving in and around each other, but they were stronger. He could feel that through the Interface and sense it in his spell. They were getting close to the first of the Vermin’s big ships. As big as it was, though, the
Victory
was bigger. Constant fire was hitting them now
.
The small Navy ships behind them were returning fire, but Thom was still holding back.

“Bring her around for a broadside, Master Weaver,” Thom said, his hands moving over the helm.

Tristan shifted the sails and felt the ship respond. It was almost like he was part of the ship, not just the Warrior fighting the sails. He was more aware of the ship than he had ever been before. He could feel the Winds tugging at the sails, and the willowisps wanting to race forward faster, deeper into the battle.

“Fire!” Thom ordered.

The next second, the
Winged Victory’s
full broadside spoke. The sound made the decks shake and Tristan watched the shot as it crossed through space and tore open a huge hole in the Vermin ship.

“”Fire!”

The second broadside opened the ship to space and Tristan could see into the dark hold of the Vermin vessel. The gun decks facing the
Victory
had been completely destroyed. The Vermin ship started to come about, but as it did, the three large dragons—Darius and the other two—dropped down on the ship. Tristan saw Darius reach down to where the Interface would be and gently kill the ship, then the three dragons launched themselves back into space.

“Finish it off!” Thom called over the fleet-comm. “We’re going after the others.” He looked over at Tristan. “That was too easy.”

“Easy?” Tristan asked, looking at the blood on the deck, watching the med teams picking up the dead and wounded.

“Yes. I’m sorry about…” Thom trailed off.

Tristan swallowed, refusing to accept what that meant. The thought was horrifying, and it was as if he could sense the dragons’ distress, it was echoing through his bones. He didn’t know if it was real or a reaction to his own worry, but it was as if he could feel Fenfyr, trapped and helpless. “It’s not too late.”

Thom nodded, looking unconvinced. Tristan refused to look out and see if Fenfyr was flying free or had been reeled in. If he knew for sure, he wasn’t sure he could go on. There was horror all around them, the wounded and dying and he couldn’t tell if the blood on Thom was his, or from someone else. The quarterdeck was missing about a third of the people that had been there when they had crossed the line. And Tristan knew the battle was far from over.

“We’re heading in to the lead ship, get ready!” Thom said over the ship’s comm.

“I’d prepare for boarders,” Muher said, walking onto the quarterdeck in his black formal uniform, sidearm and sword at his side. “They are going to try to get to the Weaver.”

“Why?” Tristan asked.

“Have you seen your damn sails? Their shot is just dropping to the deck. They can’t pierce our plating. They are going to come at us in a more personal fashion. Hall and the Marines are ready.” He
pointed to where two small Vermin ships were approaching them at high speed.

“Fire at will!” Thom ordered. The ship’s guns started firing, the shots echoing around them. “Prepare to be boarded!” He turned to Tristan, Muher and Riggan. “We need to keep them off Tristan. We’re still going after that big one.”

“I’ll be here,” Muher said.

“Me too,” Riggan assured them. He had a bloody bandage wrapped around his arm.

“Good.” Thom turned back to the helm. “Take us in, Tristan.”

Tristan focused back on the sails, turning them to catch the Winds, letting them race towards the huge ship in the center of the Vermin fleet. A
thunk
distracted him for a moment. He heard Muher swear, then small arms fire sounded from their deck. He looked up, a ship was pressing against theirs and dark figures were leaping from it onto the
Victory’s
deck.

“Get rid of that filth!” Thom snapped out the order. Tristan was concentrating on the Interface and the sails, Weaving them even tighter for their attack on the huge ship. He saw a flash of red, then the Vermin ship was being torn away from the
Victory.
Tristan looked up, Taminick was dragging it away with the help of one of the big dragons. Fenfyr was nowhere to be seen. The two dragons pulled the ship out, Tristan saw Taminick flinch as a shot hit her in her already wounded wing. Still she dropped to the deck and killed the ship, and then the dragons tore it apart. Tristan focused back on the sails.

“Stop those things!” Muher called. Riggan stepped in front of Tristan as a wave of stench washed over the quarterdeck.

“Aubrey, look out!” Thom called.

Tristan looked up in time to see the creature crawl up onto the quarterdeck. It was in a suit made from bits of dragon skin. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, Tristan grabbed his pistol and set it on the Interface. Riggan and Muher were in front of him, blocking the creature from getting closer. The general attacked, shooting first, then drawing his sword as the Vermin kept coming. More of the creatures were crawling across the deck towards them, some had weapons, others were using their hands to grab the
Victory’s
crew and tear into them. It was hard to stay focused as the screams rose in volume.

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