Kingmaker (The Dragon Corsairs)

by Margaret Weis

  “We can’t have that instability. Move the Eye closer to the window so that the barrel rests on the ledge. Miss Amelia, there is a spyglass in the file cabinet that is tipped over on its side, under ‘S.’ After you locate it, go to the window to search for ships carrying the green-beam guns. You should be able to distinguish them by a blue-green glow.”

  “And the fact that they are firing green beams,” Amelia muttered, setting off in search of the spyglass.

  “Albright, since you are a trained marksman, you will fire the weapon,” Simon continued. “I will instruct you in how it operates.”

  He and Albright bent over the weapon, with Simon pointing out the firing mechanism. Amelia located the spyglass. She and Sophia went to the window to observe the battle and search for the guns.

  The mists of the Breath mingled with the smoke of the cannons and made it difficult to tell what was happening. Ships would emerge from the smoke for a few minutes and then vanish to be replaced by others. The sound of cannon fire was continual.

  “The fighting seems very confused,” said Sophia. “The ships are so intermingled, I cannot tell which are ours and which are Guundaran.”

  “Our ships have broken their line, causing them to scatter, which gives our faster ships the advantage,” said Simon. “The only option, really, since we are so badly outnumbered. Any sign of green glows, Miss Amelia?”

  “No, sir,” she said. “But then I am no crafter.”

  She handed the spyglass to Sophia. “Isn’t that odd?” Sophia asked. “I would think Ullr would send them into battle immediately. Perhaps the magic was too unstable … Wait.…”

  Sophia shifted the spyglass. She stared through it intently a moment, then lowered it to point. “There! To the west. Those four small ships.”

  She handed the spyglass to Simon.

  “Sloops,” he stated. “Sound choice. Fast and maneuverable. You are right, Your Highness. I detect a blue-green glow at the front of each.”

  He studied the four sloops that were floating in the Breath, concealed in the mists. He could catch occasional glimpses of the green-blue glow of guns mounted on the forecastle of each ship.

  The tugboat crews must have spotted them as well, for they could all feel the tugboats start to move Welkinstead, setting off in pursuit of the sloops. The tugboats were heavy, snub-nosed boats with no sails, rigging, or balloons that could get tangled, instead relying on large lift tanks to keep them afloat. Each tugboat had six enormous airscrews that propelled them forward, with two additional airscrews that facilitated turning.

  The house gained speed. Wind rushed in through the broken glass. Simon found this quite exhilarating.

  “I may hire tugboats permanently,” he announced.

  He handed the spyglass back to Amelia. “Keep watch on them. If I am correct, they will use the cover of the battle to swoop down on the city. When they break free of the pack and swoop in for the kill, we will have them!”

  “I count only four green-beam guns,” Amelia reported. “Thomas said Ullr talked of five. There they go! They are splitting up.”

  “Each assigned a different target,” said Simon.

  “One appears to be sailing toward the palace—”

  “They assume the king is there,” said Simon. “We need not worry about that one for the moment. We will target the nearest sloop. Are we in range of any of them yet, Albright?”

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” said Albright deferentially, “but since we have never fired the weapon, I am unfamiliar with the range.”

  “A valid point, Albright,” Simon conceded. “I estimate the range to be about three hundred to five hundred feet.”

  “Very good, sir,” said Mr. Albright. “We are not within range yet. A few more moments.”

  The house closed in on the sloops. Simon chafed at the delay and he fidgeted in his chair. Amelia lowered the glass to rub her eyes.

  “I can take over keeping watch,” Sophia offered.

  Amelia handed her the glass. Sophia swept the sky, observing the battle. The sun had risen above the mists, providing a much clearer view of the fighting. Sophia suddenly pointed.

  “I recognize that yacht! It’s King Ullr’s royal yacht! He’s watching the battle from a safe distance. I don’t suppose he is in range of the Eye.”

  She handed the spyglass to Simon. He searched the sky until he located the yacht—a massive affair with gilt trim, red and black striped balloons marked with the emblem of Guundar, flying the Guundaran flag.

  “Too far away,” Simon said, shaking his head in disappointment.

  “I cannot see the Valor for all the smoke and flame,” Sophia said worriedly. “I hope Thomas is all right.”

  Amelia gave her a soothing pat. “Thomas will be fine. I am sure of it. God has not brought His Majesty this far to abandon him now.”

  Simon was about to refute her claim by informing her that Thomas had brought himself this far. Seeing Sophia gazing unhappily out the window, worried about her friend, Simon kept quiet. He realized that he had come to be quite fond of her. He did not like to see her downcast.

  If he had ever had a daughter, which the bullet to his spine had decreed impossible, he would have wanted her to be like Sophia. Not only was she a savant with remarkable skill in magic, she was also brave, quick-thinking, and sensible. She was in his judgment an estimable young woman, aside from what he considered an unaccountable affection for the annoying spaniel.

  Simon heard the tugboats’ airscrews frantically whirring. The wind whistled through the broken window. Welkinstead was on the move, no longer drifting with panache, but resolutely headed for battle.

  He raised the spyglass again to observe the four sloops, each sailing toward what he presumed were their targets. Welkinstead was drawing steadily closer to one of the sloops, which appeared to be taking aim at a row of government office buildings: the Foreign Office, His Majesty’s Exchequer, and the Admiralty. He could see the green glow strengthen, which meant the crew was preparing to fire once they were close enough.

  The crew had opened the sloop’s gun ports, but they had not run out their guns. They had left the battle raging in the sky behind. The Freyan ships were fighting for their lives. If they had noticed the sloops breaking away, they could do nothing to stop them.

  “The house will be in range of the first sloop shortly, sir,” Albright reported.

  “Aim for the green-beam gun,” said Simon. “Our goal is to destroy it.”

  “I will do my best, sir,” said Mr. Albright. He cast glances at Sophia and Amelia, who were watching out the window, and said in a quiet aside, “Might I suggest that the women seek refuge in the workshop, sir. I deem that to be the safest room in the house.”

  Amelia heard him and whipped around to indignantly confront him. “Mrs. Ridgeway of Mrs. Ridgeway’s Academy for Young Ladies did not raise cowards, Mr. Albright. ‘Women may wear corsets,’ she would say to us, ‘but we still have spines.’”

  “And I am not hiding in the cellar,” stated Sophia. “This is my country, or soon will be. Besides, Master Yates might need my help with the magic.”

  “You have your answer, Albright,” said Simon. “I believe we are in range.”

  Mr. Albright bent down to sight in on the target.

  Simon watched him. “You should be aware, Albright, that there is a small chance the weapon could blow up in your face.”

  Albright straightened to look at him.

  “Small chance,” Simon emphasized. “Fifteen percent. Twenty at the outside. Your death would be instantaneous, if that helps.”

  “Most comforting, sir,” said Albright.

  He bent down over the weapon and placed his finger on the triggering mechanism. He made a slight adjustment to the position of the muzzle and fired.

  The barrel of the weapon glowed bluish green and started to buzz. Mr. Albright hurriedly stepped away from it.

  A ball of white fire burst from the barrel with such force it jarred the tripod, sendin
g it canting sideways. Mr. Albright made a dive for the weapon and caught it before it could hit the floor.

  The fireball streaked through the sky like a comet, trailing flame and white sparks, and struck the Guundaran sloop amidships.

  “Your aim was way off, Albright,” Simon said in reproof. “You did not come anywhere close to the green—”

  The sloop exploded with a dazzling flash, split apart, and sank. The destruction was so swift and so complete that it was difficult to comprehend. One moment a ship with some fifty souls had been there and the next it was gone. All that was left was the afterimage of the flash imprinted on their eyes.

  “Merciful God in Heaven…” Amelia exclaimed.

  Sophia gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Albright stood staring, clutching the weapon in his arms. Simon frowned at the empty space in the sky.

  “I knew the Eye would be powerful, but I admit I did not expect that.”

  He raised the spyglass to observe the reaction of the other three sloops. He could see their crews scrambling about in confusion, running to the rails, climbing the masts and the rigging to search for the enemy ship that had wrought such swift and terrible destruction.

  They would not see a ship, but they would see Welkinstead. They had not previously viewed the curious house as a threat, but they certainly did now. He observed signal flags soaring up the halyards and saw the remaining sloops change course, abandoning their targets, reacting to this new threat. The green-beam guns on their rotating platforms began to turn in their direction.

  “They are preparing to fire on us,” said Simon. “We should prevent that, if possible, Albright.”

  “I am attempting to do so, sir,” said Mr. Albright.

  He managed after a struggle to reattach the weapon to the tripod and once again rested the barrel of the weapon on the window ledge. Taking aim, he pressed the trigger.

  The white ball of fire streaked toward a second Guundaran sloop. The fireball hit the green-beam gun, destroyed the forecastle, ripped open the balloons, and obliterated the forward airscrews. The sloop began to sink, though she did not go down as fast as the first, which was unfortunate for the survivors. The lifeboats had been destroyed and they had no way to escape their fate.

  “Perhaps the other two will give up,” said Sophia, who was now quite pale. “We can let them go.”

  “I am afraid not, Your Highness,” said Simon. “We cannot allow the Guundarans to escape with these guns in their possession.”

  “You are right, of course, sir,” said Sophia. “I was being foolish.”

  “It is not foolish to care about the lives of your fellow men,” said Simon. “Especially since most of those poor bastards had no choice in the matter. They were probably rounded up by press gangs, torn from their homes and families and forced to work on these ships, enduring bad food, floggings, and intolerable living conditions.”

  Simon continued to watch the two surviving sloops. “If it makes you feel any better, Sophia, the Guundarans are not going to give up. They appear to be intent on killing us.”

  The other two Guundaran sloops were bearing down on the house and the one nearest fired a green beam.

  Simon had used the Seventh Sigil to strengthen and reinforce the magic on his house. He waited with interest to observe the outcome. Welkinstead shook slightly when the beam hit the north side. He heard a few thuds as sundry objects fell off the walls, but that appeared to be the extent of the damage.

  The other Guundaran ship fired. This commander must be smarter than his compatriot, for he was aiming at the airscrews. Judging by a clanking and rattling sound, the beam struck one of them. Simon was incensed; he had gone to considerable expense repairing them.

  Albright fired again, but missed. The white fireball blazed harmlessly between the two oncoming frigates.

  “Albright, concentrate!” Simon said sternly. “I will guide your aim.”

  He rolled his chair close to the window and raised the spyglass. He glanced from the target to the Eye and back to the target.

  “Shift the muzzle to the right.”

  Albright moved the weapon as instructed. “The green beam is aimed directly at us, sir.”

  “Albright, you should duck. I do not want to have to break in a new manservant.”

  “In a moment, sir. I almost have my aim,” Albright returned.

  He fired the Eye of God and then dropped to the floor. “I fear I missed, sir.”

  “Too far to the right,” Simon muttered.

  He rapidly propelled his chair backward. “Miss Amelia, Sophia, take cover behind the desk. It has magical reinforcements!”

  Sophia ran to the desk, but she did not take shelter behind it. She swept up an armful of monographs, treatises, essays, studies, and reports and carried them to the window.

  “More papers, Miss Amelia!” she cried. “Toss them outside!”

  She flung the papers out the window while Amelia hurled more after them. The gun fired. The green beam lanced toward the window. The breeze caught the papers in a whirlwind, swirling them about. Sophia spoke a word and the papers burst into light, forming a bright, glittering curtain over the window.

  The green beam flared, then struck the curtain of blue-green blazing paper. The beam struggled briefly to survive, evaporated, fizzled, and died.

  Albright jumped to his feet, aimed the Eye of God, and fired at the sloop that had just fired at them. The ship disintegrated. All that was left was a green glowing dot that trailed down into the Breath and then vanished.

  “Well done that time, Albright,” said Simon, coughing in the smoke of burning paper. “One more sloop to go.”

  The flames had died, leaving the air filled with floating cinders and ashes. Albright calmly brushed a few cinders from his eyes, sighted in on his target. “The sloop is attempting to flee, sir.”

  “Poor bastards,” said Simon.

  Albright fired. He watched a moment, then turned to report.

  “The last ship has been destroyed, sir.”

  “And that is an end to the green-beam guns, hopefully forever,” said Simon. “Well done, Albright.”

  He regarded Sophia with admiration. “And well done for you, my dear! You held the Seventh Sigil in your mind, allowing you to combine magic with contramagic.”

  “I had no idea if it would work,” said Sophia, flushing at his praise. “I’ve only cast that spell once before and that was when we were freeing Phillip from prison.”

  She cast a remorseful glance at the cinders now blanketing the room. “I’m sorry about your work.…”

  Simon waved his hand. “A small price to pay to witness such exemplary skill in magic.”

  They heard a plaintive howl drift up from the vicinity of the pantry.

  “Poor Bandit is probably terrified,” said Sophia. “I must go fetch him.”

  “Albright, go with her and bring back a bottle of Calvados to celebrate,” said Simon.

  The two of them departed, descending the stairs, heading for the pantry where Bandit, having finished the pound cake, was complaining about his confinement.

  Amelia stood at the window, her arms crossed over her chest, gazing out at the battle that was still raging in the sky below the house. The smoke was thicker now, for some of the ships were ablaze.

  “I cannot tell what is happening,” she said. “Are we winning the fight or losing?”

  Simon rolled his chair to the desk, looked at the cinders and ashes that coated it, and sighed deeply. He fully appreciated Sophia’s need to make use of his papers, but he was left without a scrap on which to write down his observations on the Eye’s performance.

  He was about to go into his bedroom, where he kept writing materials by the side of his bed, when he was stopped by the jangling of the front doorbell, followed by banging on the door itself. Whoever was there was certainly impatient, for the person again tugged on the bell pull while simultaneously banging on the door.

  “Who could that be?” Amelia asked, frown
ing. “Perhaps the police have found Sophia. There is still a warrant for her arrest.”

  “If it is the constables here to arrest the princess, I doubt they would be so polite as to give us advance notice,” said Simon. “Still, it is best to be prepared. Are you armed, Miss Amelia?”

  In answer, she picked up her reticule from the desk, shook off the cinders, and retrieved her double-barreled pocket pistol.

  “Excellent. Take Sophia and the dog to the cellar. Try to keep the dog quiet, if such a thing is possible.”

  Amelia checked her pistol to make sure it was loaded, grabbed her umbrella, then hurried down the stairs.

  Simon reached into one of the pouches on his chair for his “crackers” and then propelled his chair out onto the landing and floated.

  He arrived just as Albright emerged from the kitchen armed with a pistol. Sophia came behind him, carrying Bandit, her hand clamped over his muzzle. She faced Simon defiantly.

  “I won’t hide in the cellar, sir. I can help.”

  Simon didn’t have time to argue. The banging continued, but at least the bell-ringing had stopped.

  “Do you know who is out there, Albright?”

  “I have not had a chance to look through the window, sir. I did think I heard a griffin caw, so I deduce whoever it is came by griffin. Should I answer the door?”

  Simon flourished the cracker. “No, Albright. I will greet our guest.”

  Mr. Albright regarded the cracker with consternation. “May I remind you, sir, that the last time you set off one of those devices, you set a ship on fire.”

  “I have since refined the formula, Albright. I suggest that you escort the ladies to a safe distance.”

  He propelled his chair toward the door, as Albright, Amelia, and Sophia retreated into the kitchen.

  Simon opened the curtain a crack and peered out the window. A griffin perched on the landing, preening itself. The man banging on the door wore a pea coat with the collar turned up against the cold and a stocking hat pulled down around his ears. Simon could not see his face. The man paused in his banging a moment to stamp his feet and peer up anxiously at the house.

  He was not a constable, that much was certain. He might be a messenger from Henry.