Pirate and King, chapter nineteen

19

High in the air, aboard Majesty:

Prince Nalderick planted both hands on the long wooden conference table, then rose to his feet. With the calm grace inherent in elves, the dark-haired young prince stood up and surveyed the cabin’s occupants.

In answer to his summons, Captain Keeth Vanner of the Invincible and Commander Linn Jennett of the Dart had drawn alongside and then come aboard. They’d been shown to the Imperial conference room in Majesty’s stern. Also present were Lady Sheraza, Captain Prentiss, Lady Solara, Scander the healer and Billow, Majesty’s half-elf cartographer. Their black uniforms might have been shorn of imperial rank insignia, but the order of seating and speech hadn’t changed.

Wine was poured by the chief steward, and a full dinner would be served after their war council. Derrick wasn’t nervous. He’d undertaken previous missions for the crown. This was his first flight as a rebel, though. Now he looked around at the others, making eye-contact with everyone… even the steward… and gauging their mood.

Moonlight flowed in through the stern bulkhead window, casting a silvery glow that blended with scores of tall candles. No mage globes were lit, as the ship was conserving manna, and any elf could see in the dark. The cabin rumbled softly, for all three ships were moving at idle speed. Opulent mithral and polished tropical woods gleamed from the overhead. A fine black-and-gold carpet covered most of the deck, displaying a dragon in glory.

…But Vernax was gone now; freed by the exile who’d stolen his throne. Pushing that thought away, Nalderick inclined his head in greeting.

“I thank you all for attending this meeting,” he said. “As I told the officers and crew of Majesty, each person here and in the fleet matters, and all have a voice in what happens next. You are my nation, I am your prince, and I vow to hold your safety and honor above anything else, even the throne. No chair or circlet could ever mean more to me than the people who have left everything else behind to follow a landless adventurer. Yet, in rising… in reclaiming that which was stripped away… I lift you as well. That is my purpose, and why we have gathered here.”

He had their attention, and Madge’s as well. Through Majesty and their officers, Invincible and Dart were listening, too. A ripple of warmth spread through everyone present. They were kindred now, bonded by love and by loyalty.

Nodding, Derrick continued.

“There is a course correction due soon, and a decision to make. Within the next three candle-marks’ flight, we must decide our destination. There are three possibilities. (Billow, if you will…?)”

The dark-haired cartographer bobbed to his feet, managing to bow and trigger the maps simultaneously. At the half-elf’s gesture, an illuminated chart appeared before everyone present (even the steward, who set down her wine jug to look). Some use of manna could not be avoided. Not in a matter of such importance. Derrick murmured his thanks and then resumed speaking.

“Our first option is the island realm of Okuni, in the great Southwestern Sea. I am related to its ruling house through my mother, Autumn Princess Marika. The distance is eight-hundred-twenty-three miles, cutting directly across land and ocean. Achievable, depending on the state of our fleet. I believe I can guarantee a welcome, if not necessarily aid. Since the Battle of Ice and Blood, Okuni has forged its own path, and its people trust no one.”

The charts had spun and expanded, placing Faraway Island at front and center. Brief flashes of a terrible, ruinous fight with an immense blue dragon… and the wretched aftermath of ‘victory’… lit everyone’s face in the colors of lightning and flame.

“They are a fierce, proud people,” said Nalderick. “And wary. They’ve had to be. If nothing else, Okuni would be a place to rest and resupply, though they may not choose to provide further aid.”

This time, what swept through the assemblage was the magical, mental equivalent of a resigned grunt. Most of those present were elves, and they knew just how stubborn their own kind could be. Nalderick waited a moment, letting them view Okuni’s high, swirling towers and frost-covered keeps. Then he plunged onward.

“Our next possibility, and by far the nearest, is Lindyn, a realm in absolute turmoil, besieged by an army of orcs. The crown hasn’t involved itself beyond creating a regency, because ties with Okuni make aiding Lindyn politically difficult. Lindyn’s noble house descends from one who fled the Battle of Ice and Blood, leaving the others to fight on, alone. This has not been forgotten. If we travel to Lindyn,” said the prince, pausing to let the charts shift, “our fleet and warband would certainly turn the tide. We could help them repel the orc tribes and take back their land… but it would be decades at best, perhaps as much as a century, before we could turn our thoughts back to Karellon. Short in distance, aye… a mere two-hundred-seventeen miles… but a terrible length of time, and immediate battle.”

The mood sweeping through his listeners now was one of skepticism and sorrow. Lindyn was a by-word for just plain bad luck. The expression “Like a message from Lindyn” never meant anything good, and all of their faces reflected that fact.

“So much for heading south,” said Derrick, changing the subject. Everyone’s chart converted again, shifting from a view of bleak, rocky steppes, burning marshes and rampaging orcs, to a sere, poisoned wasteland. “Our third and longest way would curve north, behind the mountains, to the ruined cities and fallen towers below Tys by the Sea.”

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Scander the halfling made a small sound. He bounced in his seat as the lenses of his shiny brass goggles switched to higher magnification. Derrick stifled a laugh. The curly-haired halfling was an artificer wizard as well as a healer, and the thought of all that ancient machinery made his brown eyes glow. Solara, too, looked alert. The icy blonde sorceress leaned forward in her chair, looking as though she wanted to jump straight into the chart. There were libraries covered in lava and sand; objects of power buried beneath tons of rock. Sheer cat-mint, to someone like her. Nalderick gave his people time to consider. Then he spoke again, saying,

“The Lichliornin is well known to all… by reputation. We’ve read the epics of Lady Flame’s wrath and seen them performed on long winter nights. The dangers and difficulties are no secret, but neither are the rewards… and the gods’ divine bans are no more. There are vast stores of hidden knowledge there. Great machines are said to slumber in giant caverns, warded by undead sorcerers of terrible power. It would be an enormous risk. No one enters the Poisoned Waste or stirs up the bones of the Dead College lightly… yet it’s an option.”

True enough, and nobody joined the Air Corps because they were timid. For that matter, no one who valued safety threw all their dice at once and followed a rebel prince. A sense of adventure stirred all of them (even the steward, who held up three fingers, signing for Nalderick’s third option).

Derrick took and released another very long breath.

“Those are our choices, as I see it,” he told them. “Now it is time to decide which destination is best. A major concern is our ships. With magic beginning to fail, how far and how fast can they travel? Captains… Commander…” he bowed first to Vanner and Prentiss, then inclined his head in Jennett’s direction. “Your thoughts, if you please.”

By long tradition, the smallest ships of a fleet had right of first speech. Commander Jennett stood up and bowed first to Prince Nalderick, then to the waiting others.

“Your Imperial Highness… Kindred…” said Jennett. “Minnow… Dart, that is… requires less manna and is freer to range than your larger vessels. The phrase “having the time of its life” springs to mind.” The pale-haired young elf smiled fondly, nodding a bit, as if Dart had reminded him of something important. “Yes, and Dart can rise aloft to the heights where lightning manna abides. Further, with some help from good Scander, we can gather and conduit power to Majesty and Invincible.”

That sent a ripple of genuine relief through the cabin, for creeping power loss was on everyone’s mind. The perpetual motion machines’ energy could not be amplified without enough manna, and even the steward had grown tired of doing things “the hard way” to save magic. Before anyone else could speak, though, Jennett once again bowed.

“My prince,” he said, sounding less confident. “By your leave, there is more to be told. As you know, Dart has ranged free and far through the sky, following no pattern. Twice now, it has detected something at the very end of its sensory range. Minnow says that we’re being followed, Highness. Something of dreadnought size stalks us, high and well to the rear.”

The steward had started around the table, refilling wine cups. She dropped her mithral pitcher and reflexively spell-caught it, before remembering that they were supposed to conserve their magic.

Nalderick didn’t notice the near-spill. He gazed hard at Commander Jennett, green eyes drilling deep-blue.

“You’re certain of this, Commander?” he asked. Jennett shifted his stance a little, then nodded.

“Aye, Sire. Dart is a scout ship. Finest fast cutter in the fleet. Finding things out is its job, my prince. Dart wouldn’t speak if it wasn’t sure. I’d stake my life on Minnow’s perception.”

Using the cutter’s nickname was not just affection. It proved the link between airship and officer. Jennett meant what he said, and the news wasn’t good.

“Thank you, Commander,” said the prince. “This will change our priorities, for it can only mean pursuit from Karellon… or a pirate ship.”

And the Flying Cloud had been seen in the skies above the imperial city. Nalderick came to a sudden decision.

“From this moment on, Commander Jennett, Dart stays within visual range of Majesty and Invincible. You are not to go beyond perception or help. Understood?”

Jennett’s face worked silently. Quite obviously “Minnow” was having something to say about its unwelcome new orders.

“Highness, as a scout ship, we…”

“Understood, Commander?” repeated Prince Nalderick. “This is not a request. Dart will not wander beyond our ability to reach and rescue. Alone, we can be picked off and harried. Together, we are a mighty force.”

Commander Jennett bowed assent.

“Understood, Highness,” he replied, like an officer still being argued at by his ship.

‘He is,’ said Majesty, in Nalderick’s thoughts. ‘Dart encourages smooth words and subtle disobedience, Prince N.’

Derrick shook his head.

“Thank you, Madge,” he responded aloud. “I trust you to manage your compatriot.” Scout ships were a notoriously flighty, obstreperous lot, but they yielded to flagship discipline. Mostly.

The prince next turned to Captain Vanner, of the Invincible. Vanner was tall and quiet. Never the first to speak, he generally kept his own counsel, and his closest friend was his warship. The grim captain had short, seal-brown hair and narrow eyes that were blank, burning gold. Like the others, Vanner had removed the Imperial Air Corps insignia from his uniform, replacing it with Nalderick’s personal crest. Unlike theirs, his uniform looked like it had been made that way from the start.

“Captain Vanner, how is Invincible holding up”” asked the prince. “How far can your ship travel without stopping to resupply?”

Keeth Vanner rose to his feet and bowed, waiting to speak until Jennett (still being privately yelled at) sat down.

“Your Highness, Kindred… Invincible is well stocked, as we were in port for nearly a week before absconding with Dart and Majesty. Our range is nine-hundred miles, provided we are not called upon to fight, which would take up considerable manna. Vinnie is most concerned about our pursuer and wishes to drop back and confront the skulking… erm… the other vessel.” Dreadnoughts, too, had their quirks.

Nalderick growled (more or less quietly),

“Well, Madge? I suppose you have an opinion?”

The airship spoke up at once, rustling like dried leaves in his mind and in Prentiss’s.

‘I am a dreadnought, Prince N. I was not swept from the fey-wild by magic and silver to cower in fright. I would bait a trap with Dart to lure out our hunter, then close the jaws tight with Invincible. If it is the Cloud that we face, flight will not save us, Prince N.’

Right.

Nalderick next pivoted to regard Captain Prentiss. She was slender and serious, older than Derrick, as well as being his cousin. Her counsel very much mattered.

“Captain,” he said, “you have commanded this ship since I first came aboard as a boy. Longer. No one knows Majesty better. Is the plan sound? Could the three of us take on the Cloud and win?”

Because now, everything hung on that one, vital question.