Valkyria (6 page)

“
We’re doing well. I saw
them bring up the chains as I came on board. A wing had reached out
of the water so it should not be much longer. For now, let us go
and relax for a while.”

Nate rolled a spanner through his
fingers and gazed at the motors that were sitting on shelves behind
Charles.

“
To be honest, Charles, I
would like to make some more adjustments to the motor before
relaxing. I have to make sure the new rotary parts can actually fit
inside it when we get them.”

As the engineer finished speaking, a
loud crash echoed through the room as the iron door crashed open. A
small boy with very little hair and grimier clothes than Nate’s
entered the room with speed, waving a crimson flag.

“
The giant is here! The
giant is on the deck!”

Nate flinched for a second by looking
straight into Charles’ face. His eyes were wide open and his mouth
wider than a duck’s beak.

“
Hurry my boy,” said
Charles, “let us go and see this giant for ourselves. I will help
you remove the parts you need.”

The young engineer nodded swiftly,
dropped his spanner on the ground and moved very hastily toward the
open door that led to the iron steps.

The passageways of the boat were cold
iron and grey as a winter’s morning. The metal froze to the skin if
you touched it for long enough, except when you were near the
engine room or the workshop as those rooms radiated so much heat it
felt like it could melt a man in minutes. Bolts and bracers
decorated the otherwise plain and dull walls as the two men darted
up the winding stairs toward the deck.

They passed the mess hall, where men
were sitting around a white table stained with ale and oil from
food. Cards were in their hands and piles of tobacco on the table.
Behind them Matilda the cook strolled around collecting the pots
and pans after dinner.

After the mess hall came the deck door.
It opened to a beautiful clear sky of blue and a bed of turquoise
that rippled against the side of the massive tug boat.

The deck itself was almost empty except
for six men and the crane that chugged away spilling steam from
every side. The captain was inspecting the massive birdlike metal
contraption. It had a dark green color and the cockpit was sealed
with glass, although most of it was cracked or broken entirely. The
propellers themselves were the size of Nate’s entire body, but
there were also a few smaller versions on a single pilot ship
inside the larger one.

“
Well, it certainly looks
like we struck big here, don’t you think Nate?”

Charles didn’t receive the answer he
awaited. Instead, Nate leaped straight toward the machine’s engines
and began to disassemble it immediately. Oil and metal sprung out
in all directions as he torn the motors apart in such of the rotary
mechanism. It took three hours to find the part he needed, and by
then everyone else had gone to the sleeping quarters as the sky
blackening and the moon rose in the sky.

“
Well, I have it now so I
should probably get some sleep myself. Tomorrow will be the day we
fly.”

He walked down through the corridors
again, passing the mess hall which had emptied completely,
strolling through the light of candle lanterns that had been left
aflame for the late workers so they might see where they walked as
they made their way to bed.

The corridors filled with the sounds of
the sleeping sailors, resembling a herd of bison rather than a
group of men.

When he arrived at his room he noticed
the door was ajar and a light ever so small peeked out from within.
His hands shaking, he reached for the handle and slowly opened the
large iron door. Behind it stood that woman.

In the candlelight her face resembled
some kind of imp, the wart beneath the left eye giving the
impression she had two heads. Her hair seemed to run away from her
face, leaving an empty patch at the front of her head. Her hands
lay on the table like bones next to the single candle that stood on
a small carrying plate.

“
So you have come,” said
Nate, sweat sliding from his face and crashing to the metal
floor.

“
Indeed I have,” replied
the crackling old voice. “We know you have nearly completely your
engine. So next you must complete your agreement.”

“
Agreement!? We never
agreed anything! You telling me to give you my life’s work or you
will kill me is not an agreement.”

The old and feeble looking woman
crackled a she took to her feet. Her legs trembled as they tried to
support her own weight. She looked so frail, yet her eyes said
different.

“
They will come for their
trophy tomorrow. The Inquisition will always collect their
trophies. A storm is coming, you see, and your little flying
machine will help that storm to burn Alexandria.”

“
I will not give this
machine to southern dogs! I would not care if you came to me from
the Inquisition, Alexandria or some unknown land further south.
This airship belongs to the Three Peaks!”

“
We will see if that is
true tomorrow, dear and ignorant child.”

A gust of wind blew the door closed
with an almighty crash and the flame of the candle fluttered into
nothingness, cloaking the room in darkness. Nate reached into his
pocket and pulled out a box of matches, striking one alight with
just one hand.

The light enveloped the room once again
as he lit the small candle. The wind had died, and he found he was
alone.

*~*~*

8

AEON

The moon shone brightly through the
rain clouds that floated across the sky like feathers in a breeze.
The droplets sparkled like emeralds as they fell through the trees
and to the earth below. The darkness of the night was slowly
retreating as the first sign of the sun poked its head over the
horizon, but shadow still shrouded the forest as the storm tried
with all its might not to die.

Aeon strolled along the dirt paths that
lead away from Saylae in the direction of his quarry.

The bird songs had taken life once
again, giving a chorus of welcome to the coming morning. The wind
that had blown so strongly through the midnight hours was falling
to just a whisper.

He arrived at the fallen tree, still in
the middle of the road. Yet there was no sign of the two youths.
Turning, he followed the small track his men had created a handful
of nights ago in the hope that the young girl would be laying
somewhere nearby. She wasn’t.

“
Well this surely is a sour
turn of events,” he said to the air that flowed around him. “How do
you think she was able to escape the darkness, my dear?”

“
The answer is simply, dear
Aeon,” answered the same disembodied voice that had spoken to him
for as long as he could remember. “My brothers and sisters must
finally have awoken to our plan.”

“
But why would they
interfere? We will cause no harm to them.”

“
They interfere, my dear
friend, because they know that we are far more powerful than they
ever could be. It terrifies them.”

Aeon turned to follow the pathway back
to the main road, if you could actually call it a road.

“
So what must we
do?”

“
Well, if seems that my
family will hinder the progress of your little games, so perhaps I
should take matters into my own hands?”

“
You speak as if my game
has failed.”

“
It has. There is no girl,
there is no plan and there is no success. Therefore, it is a
failure.”

Aeon reached the fallen tree once
again, closed his eyes and threw his open palm forward until it
connected to the tree trunk. The trunk itself flew away from him,
spinning as it hit another tree that still stood in place before
landing neatly at the side of the road allowing passage once
again.

“
This was merely act one,
my old friend. They have passed it, and now they move to act two.
Let us see how they will fare this time.”

“
Very well, I will allow
you to continue, but remember that the fate of the Ringlands rests
on you finding the girl. So take this one, and she will lead you to
other, that I promise.”

“
The fate of the Ringlands
relies on both my finding my precious girl and on you strengthening
the Inquisition’s forces.”

He began down the road once again, the
gates of Caim Village growing ever closer. The day was dawning, but
it seemed to be slower than usual. Time was on his side.

The wooden gates were open, just as the
farmer had promised they would be. It had taken a little persuasion
and a lot of bruises, but the young man had agreed to keep the gate
open when he left Saylae the night before. Inside the circular wall
of poles stood a pathetic number of hovels and a single stream
equally as unimpressive as the village itself, although it caused a
strange feeling of belonging to well up inside Aeon. Everyone still
slept, the daylight just creeping onto the floor of the village. He
still had time.

He looked around for the sign that the
young man agreed to leave for him. Next to a small and rotten
little fleapit of a house was a burnt branch taken from the tree
Aeon had brought down.

Smiling, he moved toward the hut
silently, passing the miniscule log bridge that crossed the stream
and through a number of small flower beds.

Inside the house it was dark and damp,
with the stench of chicken meat and the odour of fresh bread. A
young man lay still on the floor with Aeon’s quarry sleeping next
to him. The daylight pierced the darkness with a single line that
stretched west across the house. Aeon moved closer, the young girl
finally in his reach.

“
Now I have you, my dear
Alexia.”

*~*~*

9

EINAR

The sunlight burnt the skin over
Einar’s face, giving him a very rude awakening. Slowly stirring in
his makeshift bed, he rolled over onto all fours and pushed himself
up.

“
Good morning Alexia.”
There was no reply. He opened his eyes slowly, sitting back on his
legs before glancing around the room. “Alexia?” The hut was empty.
Her bed was a mess and the sunlight was entering through the front
door which was wide open.

Einar leaped to his feet and hastily
pulled his tunic and pantaloons on. Running out the house he cried
out his sister’s name, much to the surprise of the villagers who
were already working in their gardens. He ran along the stream,
around the houses and through the fields of Gafer’s poor excuse of
a farm.

“
Alexia? Where are
you?”

He got no answer, no matter how many
times he called her name. He could feel sweat drip down his face
and back as his hands trembled. He walked over to Ma’am Erey’s
house, his fist almost breaking the old door as he struck it to get
the old crone’s attention.

After a few short seconds he heard the
rustling of feet slowly approaching the door before the lock
clicked and it creaked open.

“
What in the name of the
Tower is wrong with you, boy?”

“
Where is she,” cried
Einar, his face contorted into a demon of anger.

“
What are you talking
about?”

“
My sister! Where is
she?”

Ma’am Erey’s neck stretched, as did the
wrinkles on her face as her eyebrows moved down and her face
dropped toward the ground.

“
Alexia is
missing?”

“
Yes she’s missing, you old
fool!”

Ma’am Erey was carrying an iron kettle,
polished enough that Einar could see his reflection in it. He could
also see Gafer’s son Bartholomew staring at him from behind. His
fists clenched harder as he span and darted toward the young
farmer. Grasping Bartholomew by the neck he pushed the farmer to
the wall.

“
Where is she!? What did
you do with my sister, bastard?”

Bartholomew tried to lift his arm
toward Einar’s face, but Einar instinctively drew one of his
daggers and pushed it through the farmer’s sleeve and into the
wooden wall.

“
What did you do with her!?
Tell me, or Fool help me, I will slice you open.”

Bartholomew’s eyes dart around in
search of aid, but only Einar, Ma’am Erey and Gafer were there.
Gafer ran over to his son and Einar, Bartholomew breathing a heavy
sigh and relaxing his arms. Einar held tight.

“
Tell him, boy,” said
Gafer. Bartholomew’s eyes widened as he stared at his father who
did nothing to aid his son out of such a predicament. Einar smiled.
He moved closer to his captive and stared into his eyes, watery and
open.

“
I didn’t do anything,”
said the young farmer, his lack of education in speech becoming
apparent in an instance. “It was that man! He made me do
it.”

“
Do what,” said Einar,
interrupting him.

“
He told me he would kill
me if I didn’t leave the eastern gate open and show him where you
lived.”

“
What have you done, boy,”
shouted Gafer, slapping his son across the face. “Who was this man?
Tell us now!”