Authors: Jonathon Burgess
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery, #Science Fiction, #Steampunk
“Alas,” he said aloud. “There’s precious little to steal here on Almhazlik.” Fengel frowned up at the bow deck. “Mr. Hayes. What in the world are you up to here?”
The crowd on the deck all looked his way. Some shrank back, like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. The rest just watched, curious as to how he would react. Hayes stood defiant. Upon seeing Fengel he thrust his chin out, puffed up his chest, and squeezed his hands into fists at his sides.
“I am knocking some sense into these idiots you’ve bamboozled,” shouted Hayes. He pointed at the island. “The Salomcani are over on the opposite shore. But rather than going after them, rather than dispensing righteous vengeance, you’ve got everyone bottled up here so that you can pretend to be a real sailor!” He turned back to the crowd. “Listen, all of you. You are King’s Men. You took the gold sovereign and swore the oath. When we get back to the fleet there’ll be glory for all. But only if we do the right thing! Only if we wipe those heathen Salomcani from the Goddess’s sight and hang this damned pirate from the yardarm!”
Some of the crew appeared worried at mention of the Royal Navy. They glanced at Fengel nervously. Most, however, looked merely irritated.
Oh dear
, thought Fengel. He felt for Hayes. The man wanted so badly to get his way. But he was so unsuited for the task that Fengel wondered how he’d even achieved his current rank. The sub-lieutenant managed to sound both petulant and petty at once. He buzzed like a mosquito.
Fengel rubbed his chin. “I suppose that you would lead everyone to this glory?”
Hayes stamped the deck. “Yes!”
“Really.” Fengel inspected his nails. “Sergeant Cumbers?”
The burly sergeant tromped up the deck to stand just behind him. “Sir?”
“When your officers were lost and Commander Coppertree laid up, who was in charge?”
Cumbers gave a heavy shrug. “Ah, well, Commander Coppertree still gave orders. More or less.”
Fengel raised an eyebrow at the man. “But who saw them out? Who made the lesser decisions? I assume that the commander wasn’t bothered for every little thing.”
“That would have been the sub-lieutenant, sir.”
Fengel nodded. “So Coppertree ordered a camp set up, but the sub-lieutenant here was the one that ordered the provisions removed from the
Goliath
?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Whyever for?” He looked at Hayes. “Were you planning on living here for such a long time? I would advise against it. There is a serious paucity of decent drink on the island.”
A few of the sailors in the crowd chuckled.
Good
. They were following along.
Hayes colored. “Of course not. But we had to be prepared!”
Fengel narrowed his eyes. “Yet you ordered the powder stores to be placed on the beach right next to the forge! What kind of rank stupidity was that? It’s a miracle that some stray spark didn’t set the load off before it finally blew. How many of our men are dead or injured because of that lackwit decision?”
No one laughed now. Hayes sputtered, trying for a rebuttal. Fengel pushed on before he could find one.
“For that matter, was it your idea to lay the rest of the camp out like that? You dug the latrine up the slope on the beach,
above
the men’s tents. What would happen when it rained?”
“Everything overflowed,” groaned one sailor miserably.
Hayes blinked at him. He glanced around at the crew for support, and found none. Fengel shook his head sadly and turned his back on the man. Silence stretched out across the deck.
“The layout of the camp was in accordance with the Military Code of Instruction,” said the sub-lieutenant after a moment.
Fengel rounded on him. “Oh? Did the Military Code tell you to keep the port broadsides loaded and primed? Did it tell you to leave them aimed for the camp that your mates were living in? Did it tell you to chain a madwoman up next to them?”
Hayes started. “I...that....”
“No,” continued Fengel. “I thought not. Really, Mr. Hayes. The Salomcani didn’t kill Commander Coppertree. You did.”
The muttering rose. Everyone glared angrily at the sub-lieutenant now.
“Listen, all of you,” said Fengel. “I know things are tough. And Goddess knows that I’m not the man you want. But I am what you have. This fellow”—he pointed to Hayes—“would dupe you into hunting for blood and vengeance. Yet it was his leadership that got everyone wounded and not a few people killed in the first place.
“I know some of you feel like you owe him for his rank. You’re thinking about what will happen when you get back to the fleet. That’s understandable. Even admirable. But listening to him is going to get you all killed.” Fengel smiled. “Now, I am more than happy to listen to any of my crew with any sensible suggestions. That even includes Mr. Hayes here, should he actually have anything sensible to say.”
Chuckles echoed up and down the deck.
Well,
he thought.
That’s taken care of
. A glance back at Hayes told him he’d won. The sub-lieutenant stared out at the deck, hands limp at his sides. No one was even looking at him anymore, not even in anger. The man knew that he had lost.
“Now, friends,” said Fengel gravely. “I didn’t come up here just to chastise the sub-lieutenant. I’m afraid I’ve got a spot of bad news for you as well.” He paused for effect. “While the
Goliath
is a good ship, a fine ship, she’s in a spot o’ trouble. I’ve been down to the bilge with Sergeant Cumbers and our shipwright and it is my sad duty to inform you all that our ship here isn’t going to be sailing anytime soon.”
Disbelief and dismay erupted from the crew.
“But why?” cried Riley Gordon.
Fengel held up his hands. “My friends, I don’t know how much you knew beforehand, but I heard the rumors myself. And I have to tell you that they’re true, sadly. We’ve run aground right onto some old Voorn ruin. It has punctured the hull, and isn’t going to be coming out anytime soon.”
Riley Gordon jumped up onto a crate and pointed at Hayes. “You rat bastard. You ordered us in too close, and you knew it!” He looked to his mates. “That son of a bitch is the reason we’re stuck here.”
The crew growled angrily. Hayes’s eyes widened and he shrank back, shaking his head in denial. Fengel watched carefully. Letting everyone descend to a mob would be going too far. Though he felt surprisingly unmoved. Hayes had tried to have him lynched from the yardarm, after all.
Midshipman Paine sniffled. “But I don’t want to grow up on a deserted island!”
“Now, Paine,” said Fengel. “Dry those eyes. You don’t think I’d have come up here just to disappoint you, do you?”
“No,” replied Paine. “You came up because I said Hayes was planning mutiny again.”
Fengel froze. “Ah, yes.” He coughed. “At any rate, I do have a plan.” He faced the crowd. “The
Goliath
may not be taking us away from here anytime soon. But I do know of one ship that could.” He looked back to Cumbers. “Sergeant, what did you say you saw the Salomcani running away with when they fled?”
Cumbers frowned. “Wood and tools.”
“Wood and tools,” agreed Fengel. “For making repairs. That, my fellows, means that the
Salmalin
isn’t a loss. And
that
means that we can steal it.”
The men shouted a thousand questions. Fengel waved them all down. “Lads, I know what you think. You’re sailors, you’re Bluecoats. You’d need to be pirates to steal a ship like this. Well, fortunately for you, Mr. Hayes was actually right about one thing.” He winked. “I am an excellent pirate. So let’s go steal us a ship.”
No one cheered. The crew quieted, however. As he belted out orders to bring up what supplies remained, to see to the wounded, and get them all ashore again, they moved to obey. He set his makeshift officers to tasks. When everything was moving well, he made his way back to the captain’s cabin.
A figure appeared in the corner of his eye as he reached the door. Hayes had followed him.
“You’re using them to take the
Salmalin
,” he said. “That was my idea.” Tears glimmered in his eyes. “How do you do it? How do you keep winning?”
Fengel straightened. “Because you have yet to learn the difference between proper and popular,” he replied without turning around. “And when each one becomes more powerful. Learn
patience
, Lucian.”
Hayes cocked his head. “What? Who did you call me?”
Fengel stopped with his hand on the handle. He flushed. “Never mind. Make yourself useful and go check on the wounded. Try not to get yourself lynched by the men.” Opening the door to the cabin, he fled inside.
Getting the crew ashore did not prove so onerous a task. At first, the men seemed depressed over the news about their ship. Fengel made sure to move among them, joking with and encouraging the weary, yet being stern with those who slacked. He remembered the faces of those caught listening to Hayes and pulled them aside, reminding them of the enemy across the isle and revenge. After each little speech they moved with new fire, driving their mates along with increased fervor.
His new officers proved invaluable. Cumbers was senior among the remaining Bluecoat contingent, who jumped right in whenever the grizzled sergeant yelled at them. Paine, the young midshipman, ran errands and delivered messages, also relaying Fengel’s commands to the sailors themselves, whom he technically had rank over. Aetherite Dawkins had come to an understanding with Fengel, and was left alone in exchange for seeing to the wounded, with a little help from Fengel himself on occasion. Between the three of them, they assembled the few remaining armaments and what little powder was left before moving the crew ashore.
Fengel sent the Bluecoats first to reoccupy the beach. There hadn’t been any sign of the Salomcani or anyone else since the raid. The action was more symbolic than practical. Cumbers’s men moved warily at first, fanning out to watch the perimeter of the jungle.
The sailors came next, along with the few wounded. Fengel departed last of all. He regarded the
Goliath
with amusement as the launch rowed ashore. This was the second time he’d left a Perinese ship without its crew.
Told you I’d do it,
he thought silently to Natasha.
He snapped back to the task at hand as the little boat scraped the shore. The sailors milled about, piling their remaining supplies on the sand. Fengel examined them with a frown. Even with the Bluecoat marines, he had maybe thirty surviving men, and barely enough shot, powder, and food for half. Thankfully, though, no one was so injured that he couldn’t walk or fight, barring Harvey the shipwright. Fengel climbed out of the launch and strode up through the surf. He moved up to Cumbers. Paine fell in behind him a polite distance away.
The sergeant stood beside the small pool Fengel discovered after the last battle. Steaming hot water still filled it, a jet spraying up constantly from the pipeworks in its depths. The jet seemed larger than Fengel remembered.
A deep rumble sounded throughout the isle. The ground shook and the waves shuddered into froth. The crewmen fell to their knees, shouting. Fengel fought to keep his balance. The shaking subsided a few moments later.
Fengel grimaced. Nothing like yesterday’s earthquake had occurred since, but little minor temblors now occurred with increasing frequency. He glanced around to make sure no one was hurt, then continued up to the sergeant.
Cumbers turned at Fengel’s approach. “Well, sir, we’re all ashore, even with the shaking.” He fingered his musket, glancing up at the sky. “But if we’re planning to get a move on, it’s almost noon now. An’ we’ll have to be careful. Those damned heathen raiders could be hiding anywhere in that brush.”
Fengel glanced at the tree line. It was a mess. Yesterday’s quake had toppled many of the tall palm and banyan trees. Branches lay everywhere. Crawling through it to the other side of the island would be difficult.
“Agreed, Sergeant Cumbers.” He faced the sailors behind them. “Fellows! Attend. On the other side of this isle wait the devious Salomcani. They’ve hurt us, and they’ve stolen from us. Now it’s time to pay that back.” The crew muttered in a chorus of agreement. Fengel pointed to the pile of supplies. “I want every one of you armed and ready, once we lay eyes on them. Take food, water, and a weapon. Marines to the front. Those of you with injuries, stay to the back.” Fengel gestured. “Now, all of you, follow me!”
He made to stride up the beach when someone grabbed his coat.
“Captain Fengel, sir,” said Paine. “You’re forgetting something.”
The youth thrust something up at him. It was a saber in a blue enamel sheath. Gold filigree covered the basket and the grip, the latter wound with silver wire. An officer’s weapon. Fengel wanted to shout with glee. Instead he took the blade with a smile. “Why, thank you, young Paine. Thank you indeed.” He hadn’t armed himself these last two days, lest he send the wrong message. If one of the crew gave him a blade, though, that was different.
The grip fit comfortably in his hand. Fengel closed eyes suddenly watery. He drew the saber, the hissing ring as it skittered out of its scabbard music to his ears.
He had a sword again. It felt good.
Beware, witch
.
I’m coming for you
. With a laughing cry, he led the Perinese sailors into the jungle.
They didn’t get far. The foliage was just as thick as he’d thought, with the fallen timber crushing everything together. If the trees had toppled all the way to the ground, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But some of the wreckage was supported by other greenery, or had only partially fallen. The canopy was still intact, just shorter and denser now. Fengel and the men of the
Goliath
had to crawl, climb, and hack their way around as best they could.
Why didn’t I just take them around by the beach?
wondered Fengel as he crawled beneath two fallen palms. He dripped with sweat. Even breathing in the muggy undergrowth was difficult.
Noon came and went as he led the Perinese through the interior of the island. Thankfully their progress took them into the shadow of the volcano at the center of the isle, shading them from the hot tropical sun. The volcano stood above them, though, more ominous and defined than before. All loose dirt and rock had fallen away to reveal a more symmetrical cone. The weird protrusions were also more obvious. What he had thought at first a strange bit of geology were large metallic diamonds—yet more Voorn construction.