Fire over Swallowhaven

by Allan Jones

  “Oh, cut the cackle,” Esmeralda interrupted him, marching up to the five thrones and fixing the tribunal with a gimlet eye. “Listen, it sounds like you’ve got problems with pirates.” She gestured toward Trundle and Jack. “There’s nothing we don’t know about pirates.”

  The five Puissant Castellans stared at her with a mixture of outrage and disbelief. Trundle guessed they weren’t often spoken to like this.

  “So let’s do a deal,” Esmeralda continued. “We’ll tell you all we know about how to fight pirates—on the condition you give us all the supplies we need and let us nip out the back way before the show begins. How’s that sound?”

  The Puissant Castellan in the central throne—an elderly, grizzled bear with weak, watery eyes—leaned forward and stared down at her.

  “You know all there is to know of the ways and means of battling pirates?” he asked in a quavering voice.

  “Sure thing,” said Esmeralda. “Ask away!”

  The bear gazed past her. “Junior Grand Warden, these animals must join our invincible fleet. Take them to Grand Admiral Agrocrites Firwig. They will make excellent scouts in the coming strife.”

  “Here, wait a minute,” Esmeralda exclaimed as several pairs of hands reached for her. “That wasn’t the plan at all!”

  “So?” Trundle whispered pointedly. “How exactly do you intend to get us out of this mess?”

  Esmeralda frowned at him. “Give me time. I’m thinking.”

  “Thinking is good,” murmured Jack. “Thinking before you talk us into trouble is even better.”

  Esmeralda gave him a quick glare but said nothing.

  “Do you think your aunty will be with the pirates?” asked Trundle, a shiver running down his spine as he remembered all the trouble that wicked old lady had caused them.

  “Not her,” said Esmeralda. “She’ll be snug in her caravan, plotting horrible plots, if I know her. I think this attack on Swallowhaven is probably all Grizzletusk’s idea. A quick way to add to his coffers!”

  They were back aboard the Thief in the Night, heading for one of the city’s internal wharves. A Swallowhaven warden was at the tiller, and another sat in the prow with a drawn sword across his lap. Escape was not an option. Coming up fast on their starboard bow was a flamboyantly decorated five-masted galleon, with billowing golden sails and glittering gilt deck rails. As they came closer, Trundle saw its name in gold leaf at the prow: the Gilded Lily.

  He gazed at the gaudily adorned windship, thinking of the Iron Pig, with its bloodred sails and its ironclad hull and its formidable cannon. Only the pirates knew the secret of the exploding blackpowder that fueled their cannon and their muskets and pistols. He could see this fancy galleon being blown into tiny fragments within five minutes of the battle getting started.

  We’re doomed, he thought. Totally doomed.

  “Is this the only windship you’ve got?” Jack asked the warden at the tiller. “Only—no offense, it doesn’t really look up to engaging with the Iron Pig.”

  “It was thought prudent to put as much of our wealth as possible beyond the reach of the coming enemy,” the warden replied stiffly. “Most of the rest of the invincible fleet was mostly used to transport most of our treasures into hiding in Mousehole Reach.”

  “Well, that was mostly a bit silly, wasn’t it?” said Esmeralda. “How exactly were you planning on fighting them?”

  “We’re rich,” the warden commented, with a snooty curl of the lip. “We can afford to pay other people to do the actual fighting.”

  They came alongside the Gilded Lily, and the little skyboat was quickly secured. The wardens escorted Trundle, Esmeralda, and Jack aboard the galleon, and they soon found themselves on the forecastle, under the stern gaze of an elderly goat in a dazzlingly braided and bemedaled uniform. Above his long, mournful face, he wore a cocked hat spouting gold plumes.

  “Admiral Agrocrites Firwig, I presume?” said Esmeralda. “Are you in charge of this woeful excuse for a navy? You do know you’re all going to be killed, don’t you? If you’ll take my advice, you’ll pack your bags and head for Mousehole Reach as quickly as the wind will take you.”

  Admiral Firwig adjusted his monocle. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” he announced. “We have assembled a formidable fleet of paid soldiers.” He looked at Esmeralda and Trundle and Jack with a doubtful eye. “I’m informed that you persons will be useful in the thick of the battle as scouts and expert observers.”

  “In the thick of the battle?” echoed Jack in alarm. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Would you care to take a tour of our defenses?” Admiral Firwig continued, ignoring Jack’s comment.

  “Yes, why not?” said Esmeralda. “Show us what you’ve got, admiral.”

  Firwig muttered some orders to a nearby officer, and a few minutes later, the Gilded Lily had set sail and was gliding on a curved course out from the city. Ahead of them, Trundle saw a row of ten windships hanging motionless in the sky, each with a chunk of powerstone secured to the mainmast. Not for the first time, he found himself marveling at the properties of powerstone.

  Without this extraordinary rock, there could be no sailing through the skies of the Sundered Lands; buoyant as cork in water, it allowed the windships and skyboats to float in the air. Every vessel had a chunk of powerstone onboard, usually kept in a wooden basket at the head of the mast. Any vessel that lost its powerstone was doomed to plunge down into the black, frozen nothingness that lurked in the unfathomable depths beneath the lowest of the islands.

  “These are converted merchant vessels,” the admiral explained as they hove to, next to the becalmed fleet. “As you will see, they are not entirely unprepared for warfare.”

  The Gilded Lily sailed sedately along the front of the line of windships. They had names like the Spice Gales, and the Sarky Cut, and Trades Increase. Trundle could see that big rectangular shields had been arranged along the bows of the windships, and there were many archers and soldiers aboard.

  “The archers’ arrows have been dipped in dark lotus juice,” the admiral explained proudly.

  “Never heard of it,” said Esmeralda. “What is it?”

  “A poisonous brew made from the stamens and pistils of the dark lotus flowers, found only in the jungles of Spyre,” explained the admiral. “Even the slightest scratch of a lotus-dipped arrow will cause hallucinations and hysterics and raving lunacy.”

  “Hmm,” said Jack. “Handy, that. But we were told that Captain Grizzletusk has a fleet of twenty-five windships. Even with that nifty juice, you’re outnumbered two and a half to one. And they have blackpowder!”

  “This is merely the visible part of our fleet,” said the admiral. “I will now show you the rest.” Another order sent the Gilded Lily speeding forward.

  A loud female voice boomed out. “Admiral Firwig! Captain Dolly Wideawake seeking permission to come aboard the flagship, sir.”

  “Permission granted!” the admiral called back. The Gilded Lily hove to, and the formidable figure of a badger in half armor, with a plumed beret at a jaunty angle on her head, came swinging over on a bosun’s chair, a contraption made up of a wooden seat suspended from ropes.

  “And who are these little fellows?” boomed Captain Wideawake, fists on hips as she stared at Trundle and his friends.

  “They are experts in the tactics and gambits required to fight pirates,” explained the admiral.

  “Hurrumph!” snorted Captain Wideawake. “Just let my Swallowhaven Amazons at ’em, that’s all I ask. Why, the crew of the Bolt from the Blue could clear the skies of pirates singlehanded, and that’s a fact!”

  “May I remind you, captain, that your crew consists entirely of ladies of the Guild of Seamstresses?” the admiral said mildly. “Remarkable as they are, I feel a little extra help might come in useful. Would you care to accompany us to Underhaven so our newfound friends can meet our trusted allies?”

  “I will that,” said Captain Wideawake. “Although whether so
ldiers whose loyalty can be bought for a hatful of sunders are going to prove trustworthy, we’ve yet to find out.”

  “Captain Wilde and Captain Darkside are honorable animals,” said the admiral.

  “Hurrumph!” said Wideawake.

  The admiral ignored her. “Make sail for Underhaven!” he called.

  The Gilded Lily described a long, graceful arc through the sky, turning to approach the city but steadily swooping lower and lower until Trundle realized they were going to sail right underneath the island.

  They swept on, the underside of the island of Swallowhaven passing massively above them like a rugged and jagged ceiling—all craggy, barren rock honeycombed with caverns and pits and gullies. Hidden from the beams of the sun, it was a dark place where chill winds wafted and sneaked.

  And then Trundle saw the two fleets of windships, lurking down there in the deep shadows. The closer fleet consisted of six war galleons, painted bright red, armed with rams and fitted out with harpoon launchers shaped like great crossbows. That looked more hopeful, he thought, although he also noted with a quiver of unease that the crews of these ships were made up of wolves and foxes.

  “My old dad told me never to trust those creatures,” he whispered to Jack. “He always said, ‘While the wolf keeps you talking at the front door, the fox is busy in the larder.’”

  “These look a decent bunch,” Jack replied lightly. “I think we should give them the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Hmm,” said Trundle dubiously.

  As the Gilded Lily sailed by, a dandified wolf in a silver helmet launched himself from the poop-deck rail of the Scarlet Scavenger and swung over on a rope. He landed lightly, sweeping the helmet from his head and bowing low.

  “Captain Amery Wilde at your service,” he announced with a flash of white teeth. He stepped forward, lifting Dolly Wideawake’s plump paw and planting a kiss on it. “A pleasure, as always.” He straightened up, his eyes sparkling with dash and brio. “Admiral Firwig, my men are at your command. Give your orders and we will obey.”

  “As soon as the pirate fleet appears, I want your windships to speed from cover,” said the admiral. “Use your normal tactics, captain—ram them, harpoon them, and then board them.”

  “It shall be done!” said Captain Amery with a flourish. “We will smite them hip and thigh, admiral, with sword, ax, and halberd.” His eyes gleamed. “And as we agreed, any ships we capture are ours to take and sell?”

  “They are indeed,” said the admiral.

  “Admirable!” said Amery Wilde. He smiled at Trundle and Esmeralda and Jack. “Forgive my discourtesy, my fine fellows,” he said. “I have pressing work to attend to, but I hope we will have time for introductions later. We shall drink together from the cup of victory when the battle is won!” And so saying, he caught hold of the rope again and swung back to his own windship.

  “Well, he was a nice enough fellow,” said Jack. “And a good chap to have with you in a tight corner, I dare say.”

  Trundle nodded, reassured by Captain Wilde’s breezy and friendly manner.

  As the Gilded Lily sailed on, it became clear that the second of the secret fleets was a different proposition altogether. It consisted of four rather odd-looking windships, which seemed to be made entirely from dull gray iron. The hulls were of riveted iron strips, as were the decks and the featureless pilothouses; even the masts and the large powerstone baskets were iron. From the center of each of the pilothouses jutted a strange iron funnel, spouting thick smoke. The curious windships were also strangely noisy: clankings and rumblings and clangings reverberated from their iron hulls. Trundle also noticed large, weirdly shaped objects on the decks, hidden under gray tarpaulins.

  The lead windship was called the Black Velvet. Standing on the quarterdeck, small and grim in a frock coat and two-cornered hat with a black cockade, was a mole whose eyes were all but hidden behind blue-tinted spectacles. Their lenses were as thick as the bottoms of bottles. The silent crews of the four windships were also moles, clad in grimy dungarees and tinted eye-concealing glasses.

  “That is Captain Thaddeus Darkside,” said the admiral. “Leader of the steam moles of Hammerland. His people live in the outer reaches of the Sundered Lands. We are very fortunate to have their support—they seldom concern themselves with events outside their own land. Captain Darkside tells me that beneath those tarpaulins he has some experimental weaponry that he is eager to test in combat. I have not seen the weapons, but he assures me they will come in most useful when battle is joined.”

  “I don’t like ’em steam moles,” grumbled Dolly Wideawake. “You never know what they’re thinking behind them glasses. Shifty, I calls it. Dead shifty.”

  Staring out at the grimy, noisy, smoke-spewing iron windships, Trundle couldn’t help but agree with her.

  “So, twenty windships in all,” said Esmeralda. “Against twenty-five pirate windships led by the Iron Pig.” She rubbed her chin. “Hmm. Interesting odds.”

  “I bet you’re wishing you hadn’t talked us into this mess,” muttered Trundle. “But maybe we can still slip away before things get uncomfortable. We are on an important quest, after all. There are four crowns yet to be found, remember? And this battle really doesn’t have anything to do with us, does it?”

  “He’s got a point,” whispered Jack. “What say we leg it while there’s still time?”

  Esmeralda looked from one to the other. “Yes,” she said in an undertone. “This time I think you’re both quite right. We need to skedaddle before Grizzletusk turns up.”

  “How?” asked Trundle.

  “I’m working on that,” Esmeralda replied.

  “Sail ho!” called a lookout from the masthead of the Gilded Lily.

  They turned to see the Bolt from the Blue skimming swiftly toward them under the rocky ceiling of Swallowhaven Island.

  “Pirates!” yelled a frantic female voice from the prow of the onrushing windship. “Cor, blimey, luvaduck! The pirates are here—flippin ’undreds of ’em, gawd ’elp us!”

  And with that, the Bolt from the Blue came sailing alongside the Gilded Lily. Captain Wideawake heaved herself up onto the rail and, with a fearsome war cry, leaped back aboard her own foredeck.

  “Needles in their nappers, my girls!” she hollered as the Bolt from the Blue turned, gathered speed again, and rushed off to do battle. “Pins in their posteriors! Scissors and pinking shears at the ready! Death or glory, Amazons of Swallowhaven—death or glory!”

  Admiral Firwig turned to the three friends. “Well, my young heroes,” he declared, “it’s time for you to prove your worth!” And with that, he shouted orders so the Gilded Lily cut a swift circle in the air and went flying out into the open skies.

  “Oh, my giddy aunt!” gasped Trundle, his eyes bulging.

  Filling the sky over Swallowhaven lay the entire pirate fleet—and at its head was the terrifying spectacle of Grizzletusk’s flagship: the dire and dreadful Iron Pig!

  “So, my fine young beasts,” said Admiral Firwig, lowering the telescope from his eye and turning to Trundle, Esmeralda, and Jack, “battle is about to be joined! Which tactics do you recommend?”

  Run like fun! thought Trundle as he goggled at the looming pirate fleet.

  The Iron Pig, with its grisly red sails, was in the lead, while the rest of the vessels—a motley and mongrel bunch of windships, bristling with cannon and sabre-wielding pirates—were organized in two long columns that stretched out like a pair of ugly ribbons in the flagship’s wake. Already they were bearing down on the small Swallowhaven fleet like buzzards coming in for the kill.

  “I’ve seen this formation before,” Esmeralda said grimly, gripping the rail as she stared at the approaching armada. “They’ll try to smash right through your fleet, blasting away with their cannon as they go. If your windships stay where they are, they’ll be blown to smithereens.” She looked up at the admiral. “Have you seen the damage the pirates’ cannon can do? I have—and I don’t recommend being
in their sights once they start blazing away.”

  “All your people will be killed if they don’t get out of the way,” Jack added urgently.

  “Then go tell them so!” said the admiral. “Cast off the Thief in the Night,” he called. “Admiral’s orders: All windships to break ranks and hold off till reinforcements arrive.”

  “Come on,” Esmeralda shouted to Trundle and Jack as she raced for their little skyboat. “You heard the admiral—we’ve got work to do.”

  Pausing only long enough to exchange a startled glance, the two of them went running after her.

  As they leaped aboard, Trundle heard the admiral shouting further orders. “Signal to Captain Wilde aboard the Scarlet Scavenger,” he bellowed. “Tell him to lead his fleet into combat with all possible speed!”

  “That’ll give them piratical types a nasty surprise,” said Jack as he unfurled the sails. “Jimminy, but this is exciting! I can feel a battle song coming on!” He cleared his throat and began to sing.

  “Swallowhaven, stand ye steady,

  Pirates come, but you are ready,

  Fight until they all are dead-ee,

  Heroes one and all!”

  “Very stirring,” yelled Esmeralda, leaping for the tiller. “Save it for later!” She grabbed the tiller in both hands and gave an almighty wrench. Its sails plump with the wind, the Thief in the Night went skimming away from the admiral’s flagship.

  Trundle clung to the mast, feeling the blood surging through his usually peaceable veins. Curse those horrid pirates! It would serve them jolly well right if the whole darned lot of them were killed.

  “Trundle, we’re busy. You have to call to ’em to scatter!” yelled Esmeralda as they sped toward the Swallowhaven fleet. The Bolt from the Blue was back in line, and the pirate windships were bearing down on them in an arrowhead formation.

  “They’ll never hear me,” yelled Trundle.

  “Improvise!” howled Esmeralda, leaning hard on the tiller.