The Servants of the Storm

by Jack Campbell

  “Dav is all right,” Alain said as he reached Mari again. It was a lie, but it was Dav’s lie, and it was what Mari needed to hear.

  She was sitting against one side of the ship, looking dazed, her left arm hanging limply. Alain forgot his own tiredness again for a few moments, grabbing the other medical bag and pulling off her jacket, ignoring Mari’s gasp of pain.

  It looked as though a crossbow bolt had struck her upper arm a glancing blow. There was a bloody slash in the flesh, surrounded by a deeply bruised patch of skin as large as Alain’s fist. Barely keeping his emotions tamped down, Alain wrapped a bandage around her arm to stop the bleeding and then looked at her helplessly, his stock of medical knowledge exhausted.

  Mari blinked her eyes as if trying to focus. “Get me up…with Captain Banda.”

  “Mari—"

  “I can sit. I can call…the Pride. Get me up there.”

  It was not easy for him, after the spell and his other exertions, but Alain managed it, never able afterwards to recall precisely how he had hoisted Mari up the ladder and into the seat behind Banda as the Terror neared the exit of the harbor.

  Mari pulled out her far-talker again. She looked at Alain. “You’ll have to…guard…the rear hatch. Be careful.”

  Alain nodded. “You, as well.”

  “I love you,” she whispered, knowing they had no time for any more words.

  “I love you,” Alain said, knowing that nothing else needed to be said between them. He slid down the ladder, not at all certain how he was still moving. Exhaustion weighed his every step and, water trickling down from dozens of holes in the ship’s hull made the footing treacherous, but he made it to the after ladder, ensured that he still had his knife, then climbed upward until he could shove the hatch open again and stick his head out.

  The motion of the Terror changed as the ship left the harbor. Ballistas on the breakwater fortifications hurled more bolts toward the struggling ship. Swells coming in from the sea made the Terror roll like a drunken sailor trying to walk as Captain Banda swerved erratically to throw off the aim of the ballistas. Several times Alain had to quickly slam the hatch as swells rolled over the deck, then open it again to resume his watch.

  Looking back toward Landfall, Alain was startled to realize that the sky was beginning to lighten in the east. He saw the distinctive shape of the Mechanic ship beginning to move past the masts of the sailing ships, the smoke from its stack rising until it was lost in the fading remnants of the night sky.

  Behind the Mechanic ship, three Imperial war galleys forged toward the harbor mouth, also chasing the Terror.

  Alain sensed something wrong about the motion of the Terror. Its movement felt sluggish. He looked down the hatch, seeing that the trickles of water where the hull had been pierced turned into erratic streams as the ocean swells rolled over the damaged areas. Did that mean trouble? Only the Mechanics would know. He could do nothing but guard this hatch.

  The Terror forged ahead, drawing away from the harbor as the Mechanic ship and the Imperial galleys made their way through the clutter of shipping, losing ground in their pursuit.

  The roar of the boiler creature faltered.

  Caught again.

  Faltered.

  Asha called loudly from near the boiler, spacing out her words as she repeated what Dav told her. “The boiler…is going out…the fuel…is almost gone…the tank…must have been…broken open…by the…collision.”

  The Terror was slowing. Alain could feel the ship still moving ahead but failing to maintain speed. The thing Mari had called a bilge pump was also slowing as the power from the boiler fell.

  He looked back again at their pursuers, wondering if they would be caught before the ship sank beneath them.

  “There is…nothing…left,” Asha called, the direness of her words offset by the emotionless way in which she said them. “The boiler…is about…to go out.” Never had a death sentence been pronounced so dispassionately.

  Alain gripped the knife he held, thinking of what Mechanic weapons could do when their pursuers caught up. Even if any power had existed out here to help cast spells, he was too physically exhausted to manage any. It would not be a long fight.

  He knew that Mechanic Dav would not survive the sinking of the Terror. And that Asha would not leave Dav’s side.

  Alain wondered if there was any way left to save Mari.

  The sun had not yet risen, but the sky to the east was much brighter now, silhouetting the shapes of the Mechanic ship and the Imperial galleys sharply and clearly against it. The Terror was well away from the harbor, but the other ships had left the traffic there and were catching up as the Terror wallowed helplessly, barely moving as the boiler’s roar faded into nothing.

  He heard a boom, and looked for the puff of smoke from the front of the Mechanic ship that marked the firing of its deck gun.

  There was no smoke.

  Alain heard a rushing sound overhead.

  Something struck the water near the Mechanic ship, exploding with enough force to throw up a column of water twice as tall as that from the Queen’s deck gun.

  Startled, Alain spun to look ahead. The west was still dark, but he could make out against the pre-dawn sky that the Pride had approached, concealed by the last vestiges of the night. As he watched, the big gun that Mechanic Alli had installed boomed again. A black speck flew overhead, landing closer to the Mechanic ship than the first shot had.

  The Queen came straight on, not altering course, as another shell threw up a fountain of water so near that it must have splashed on the Mechanic ship. Was it arrogance that kept the Queen from dodging? Or blind obedience to the same tactics that had always worked in the past? Or was it due to an inability to believe that someone other than their Guild could produce a deadlier weapon?

  The Queen’s deck gun fired, but the shot fell short of the Pride.

  The fourth shot from the Pride slammed into the Queen. The Mechanic ship reeled from the blow, smoke billowing from one side.

  The two ships each fired another round, neither scoring a hit. But the Pride’s sixth shell landed directly on the Queen’s foredeck, where the deck gun was located. A titanic cloud of smoke and debris blossomed as the Queen staggered off to the side, speed falling fast as her shattered bow dipped toward the water.

  Alain was still staring at the sinking Mechanic ship and the figures of men and women leaping into the water when he heard the Pride fire once more. This time the shell fell just ahead of the three Imperial galleys heading for the Terror.

  The Imperial warships kept coming, their oars flashing as they rose and fell.

  The Pride fired again.

  The shot hit the leading galley in the center. The explosion blew the galley in half. The splintered remains of the wooden ship’s bow and stern spun away, pointing skyward as they sank.

  That was enough for the other two galleys. They twisted about under the push of their oars, racing back to the harbor where more Imperial ships were getting underway.

  Alain was still looking toward the harbor, feeling stunned, when the Pride coasted alongside, all of her boats already dropping into the water.

  Mari managed to raise herself halfway out of the forward hatch, waving her good arm at the approaching boats. “We’re sinking! The boiler has stopped! You have to get the texts off!”

  Alain dropped through the aft hatch, nearly falling when he reached the deck, and went back to where Asha still knelt beside Dav, holding her knife ready for use. She gave Alain a steady look. “Dav is unconscious. How close are those who pursue us?”

  “The Pride has driven off our enemies. Boats come. Our friends. They will take Dav to the healer on the Pride.” Asha’s eyes lit at the news, as despite her Mage training she inhaled a shaky breath that revealed her relief. “Stay with Dav, Asha. Stay with him as he stayed with you in Emdin.”

  Feet clumped on the deck, and sailors started coming down in a rush. Alain made his way to the forward ladder, looking up to where
Captain Banda was slumped over the wheel, Mari lying back in her seat behind him. “Is Captain Banda hurt?”

  Banda raised his head. “Too worn out to think, Sir Mage. Am I imagining things? Is the Pride really here, or is this the last illusion of a drowning sailor?”

  “It is an illusion,” Alain said. “All is an illusion. But you will not drown this day.”

  Streams of water were still pattering down from the breaks in the hull. Alain could hear water sloshing under the deck plates as sailors hauled Dav from the ship, Asha following. “Mari, we should get out.”

  She shook her head. “Not until the texts are off.”

  “We can wait on deck. There is no reason to wait inside.”

  Mari finally nodded, the motion wobbly. “All right.”

  She stood up and started to climb up and out. Alain, all of a sudden reminded of how worn out he was, struggled up the ladder and helped her onto the top of the Terror. Captain Banda followed, moving like a very old man.

  Sailors from the Pride had formed a chain and were quickly passing sacks and backpacks full of texts up the ladders and into the Pride’s waiting boats. Alain saw the Pride’s smallest boat, carrying Dav, Asha, and several sacks of texts, already heading back to the Pride.

  “Lady!” The sailors holding one longboat close to the Terror gestured to Mari. “That ship is going down! Come on!”

  Mari shook her head, leaning against Alain as he steadied himself on the top of the steering room. “Not until it’s all off.”

  Alain looked down through the hatch, seeing water now washing across the deck plates. The Terror was noticeable lower in the water, especially in the front. “We do not have long.”

  “Not until it’s all off,” Mari repeated.

  “Sir!” a sailor at the aft hatch called to Banda. “That’s everything!”

  Mari tried to move toward the hatch. “I need to check. Need to be sure.”

  Banda stopped her. “Master Mechanic, I’ll check. I know where everything was stowed.” With a grimace, he gestured the sailor aside, swung into the hatch and dropped down.

  Alain watched and listened anxiously as Banda searched the interior of the small vessel. The section of deck where Mari and Alain stood was now completely awash, the sea water swirling around their ankles but the cold barely registering on Alain’s overstressed senses. The aft hatch was about to go underwater when Banda reappeared and pulled himself up with surprising speed and headed for a boat. “It’s all out, Mari. We’ve got it all.”

  Alain shoved Mari into the arms of the waiting sailors, feeling the deck of the Terror falling away beneath his feet. He sank waist deep into the water, his arms catching at the side of the boat, before the sailors hauled him in as well and sat him next to Mari.

  He held onto her as the sailors rowed the short distance back to the Pride. Alain looked back as he was helped up the ladder, seeing that there was nothing left of the Terror but a few pieces of wood bobbing on the surface and steam bubbling up from below as the boiler creature gave up the last of its heat.

  Mari had to be pulled up in a sling, then refused to leave the rail, watching as the boats were recovered and the sacks of texts transferred to the Pride.

  “The Imperials are coming out again,” said someone next to Alain. He turned to see Mechanic Deni standing there, immensely comforting in her strength and confidence. “A lot of them. Enough to take us even with Alli’s big gun. But we’ll be done and steaming away before they get close enough to worry about,” she added. “Master Mechanic Mari, you should see the healer.”

  “Not until it’s all aboard,” Mari insisted. She was leaning heavily on the rail, left arm hanging uselessly. Alain held her right arm to keep her standing.

  Captain Banda staggered up to Mechanic Deni. “I am in no shape to resume command of the Pride. Continue as acting captain until I get about two days of uninterrupted sleep.”

  Deni grinned. “You getting old, Captain?”

  “Feeling as old as if I had sailed under Jules,” Banda said. He looked at Mari, a slow smile coming to his face. “Then again, in a way I did sail under Jules. Master Mechanic, thank you.”

  Mari turned a puzzled look on him. “For what? None of you gave up. That’s what got us through.”

  “We didn’t give up because you wouldn’t give up, and we didn’t want to let you down.” Banda saluted Mari, then let a sailor help him toward his stateroom.

  “That’s the last,” Mechanic Deni said as sailors carefully brought a final sack onto deck. “I’ll personally see it securely stowed below. You can see the healer now, Master Mechanic.”

  Mari swayed against Alain. “Dav. Where is Dav? How is he?”

  “He’s with the healer. As you should be.”

  “I will take her,” Alain said, not certain that he would be able to support Mari that far. But sailors came to help them both along, moving slowly across the deck as the Pride turned under the push of her new steam propulsion. The deck canted and shadows from the rising sun shifted rapidly as the ship swung about before steadying back into a westerly course. The last things Alain saw before going belowdecks were the frustrated Imperial warships once more losing ground in their chase, and the stern of the Queen of the Seas sliding beneath the surface to join the Terror in a watery resting place.

  The healer and his assistants rushed Mari to a bunk, stretching her out despite her weak efforts to resist. “Dav. How is Dav?” Mari demanded.

  “Right over there,” the healer said. “I think he’ll be all right. The hip may never be the same. Lost a lot of blood, but he’s young, and the Lady Mage provided him some of her own.”

  Alain had sunk down on a stool next to Mari’s bunk, his sluggish thoughts realizing that of course Mari would not think of herself until she knew that everyone else was all right. He looked across the room to see Asha lying next to Dav.

  “Mechanic Dav talked the Lady Mage into getting a physical on the voyage out,” the healer continued as he carefully unwrapped the crude bandage that Alain had wrapped around Mari’s arm. “That’s how I knew her blood was compatible with his without having to test it. Good foresight on his part, eh?”

  “It was not…foresight,” Alain mumbled. “That is a Mage art.”

  “Sorry, Sir Mage?”

  “Nothing.” Alain looked at Mari, whose eyes were glazed from weariness and the effects of her injury and loss of blood. She seemed unaware that the healer was working on her arm.

  “We really did it?” Mari whispered to him.

  “We really did it.”

  “We all made it,” she added as if seeking reassurance.

  “Everyone made it,” Alain said.

  “Where will you be?”

  “Right here,” Alain said.

  “Good. That means I’m safe.” She closed her eyes.

  He did not realize until much later, when he finally woke again, that he must have passed out as well, still sitting next to her.

  * * * *

  Mari woke up, aware first of the gentle motion of the Pride as she headed west with following seas and second, that every single piece of her body hurt. She had been looking upward for some time at the play of reflected light and shadow on the overhead planks when the healer noticed that Mari had awakened.

  “How do you feel?” he whispered to avoid waking anyone else.

  “Like I’d been shot out of a cannon,” Mari whispered back.

  “You’ll be all right. That’s just your body complaining about the way you abused it.” The healer pointed to her bandaged upper left arm. “Except for there. You were very lucky. If that crossbow bolt had been just a little closer to you it would have broken the bone and made a lot bigger gash in your arm. As it is, it will hurt longer than the rest of you, and you won’t be able to comfortably use the arm for a little while, but you’ll be fine. Make sure you see a healer once a week until the injury has healed enough for the stitches to be removed.”

  “Dav?”

  The healer scrat
ched his chin as he thought. “He’ll live. We got past the immediate danger, and the new antibiotics that you, Master Mechanic, helped us learn to make using techniques from the banned technology should keep him from getting an infection. But his hip bone was cracked. I don’t think it can heal straight. He’ll be able to walk, but he’ll likely limp all his life.”

  Mari felt tears start. “It’s my fault.”

  “Everyone is telling me the only reason he’s alive is because you got him inside the ship after he’d been hit, despite having been hit yourself. I guess it’s your fault he lived long enough for me to save him.” The healer gestured toward his feet. “This one wouldn’t move.”

  Mari was barely able to lean out enough to see Alain, wrapped in a blanket, sleeping on the deck next to her bunk. “No. He won’t move. How is Mage Asha?”

  “A little weak from giving blood, that’s all. And Captain Banda is fine. Just as worn out as you are, but without the arm wound.”

  The healer gave her a drink that knocked out Mari again. When she awoke once more, Alain was sitting beside her. “Hello, my Mage.”

  “Hello, my Mechanic.”

  “What’s happening?”

  Alain indicated the deck above. “We continue toward the west. There is a spot along the coast where Mage Alera and Mage Saburo will be waiting with their Rocs to take us back to Tiae.”

  “Back to Tiae on Rocs?” Suddenly the Pride’s narrow bunk felt like the most desirable, comfortable place she could imagine for the next few weeks. “When? Do we get any chance to recover first?”

  “You have been asleep for a day and a half. Captain Banda says we should be where the Mages wait in another half-day.”

  Mari inhaled deeply, then regretted it as her body protested the exertion. “I know I’d agreed during planning that the Pride would take the texts home while you and I flew back, but I don’t want to leave them, Alain. What if something happens to the Pride before she reaches Tiae?”

  “You are needed back in Tiae. To lead those who follow the daughter, to give guidance to those who follow your orders, and to prepare for whatever must be done next.”