Clash of the Sky Galleons

by Paul Stewart;Chris Riddell

  ‘Port-side secure,’ shouted Tem.

  ‘Starboard secure,’ shouted Duggin a moment later.

  Half-suspended, half-wedged against the rock, with the buoyant flight-rock maintaining the equilibrium of the vessel, the Galerider was as firm and safe as Quint could hope for. He looked at the great inhospitable setting all about him. Wilderness Lair. A name to conjure with, to be sure. It was a place more suited to spirits, wraiths and ghouls than to creatures with blood running in their veins.

  And yet it was to this furthest outpost in the Edgeworld - a hideaway that the lumbering league ships had never managed to reach - that the sky pirates had withdrawn so many times before. It was a haven, a sanctuary; a place that they would head for in times of persecution and attack.

  Now was just such a time. Quint placed his bicorne hat firmly on his head, straightened his greatcoat and looked around. There were sky pirate ships on all sides, as well as above and below, their decks teeming with heavily armed and greatcoated sky pirates.

  On one side was the Fogscythe, a heavy two-master with four stone pilots and a complement of cloddertrog log-hurlers. On the other, the slim and elegant Iceblade was crewed by tufted goblins, and had a young spindle-bug quartermaster who trilled a greeting across to Quint. Close by, the Windspinner had a sturdy catapult and wood-tar braziers, while the Thundercrusher boasted a giant wrecking-ball.

  The sleek white Driftcleaver - complete with plough-shaped battering ram at its prow - which had been known to cut a league ship in two, was one of several sky ships with an all-female crew. Another was the Mistseeker, captained by the sky pirate Storm Kestrel and her second-in-command, Heg-Hut, together with a hand-picked company of ferocious female hammerhead goblins. From her decks, a visibly shaken Glaviel Glynte and his partner, Sister Horsefeather, looked out, bemoaning the cowardly burning of the Tarry Vine tavern to any who would listen.

  Quint called down to Raffix to take over, and climbed down from the helm to the aft-deck. There, he met Maris - resplendent in a new greatcoat and breast-plate.

  ‘How do I look, Captain?’ she smiled.

  Quint was anxious and tired, but the sight of his friend in full sky pirate gear made him smile. ‘Perfectly dressed for the occasion, Maris,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Come, follow me.’

  Quint climbed over the balustrade of the Galerider and made his way across the various gangplanks and walkways that linked the sky pirate ships, one with another. Maris followed, her eyes growing wide with wonder at the various vessels and their extraordinary crews, who saluted, doffed their caps or grunted greetings as they passed. Finally ten ships along and four down, they clambered on board a black stormchaser, sleek and deadly-looking with the name Maelstrom Seeker in silver letters on her prow.

  On board, her deck teemed with sky pirate captains of every description, deep in muttered conversations. Quint, who was by far the youngest captain there, pushed through the crowded Council of Captains. He was making his way to the helm, where the mighty Captain Ice Fox - his once-black beard now silvery grey - stood with the most experienced of his colleagues.

  Quint took off his hat and bowed respectfully. They were all there. Sleet Snicket, the great Mire specialist, with Slug, his trained mud-jackal, by his side. Flood Woodwasp, legendary shryke-egg smuggler. Cruld Spikefist, the grey goblin swordmaster, and Sister Bloodfeather, lifelong friend of Captain Woodwasp and the only shryke ever to captain a sky pirate ship.

  They had all obviously heard of Wind Jackal’s death, for as he passed by they took off their hats and murmured their condolences. Quint thanked them before stepping forward and whispering urgently to Captain Ice Fox, while the others gathered round. After a few moments, as Maris watched from the aft-deck below, Ice Fox raised his arms and addressed the other captains aboard the Maelstrom Seeker.

  ‘Captain Cloud Wolf brings news from Undertown,’ he announced. ‘It seems our erstwhile friends in the leagues have grown bold. We were all fearing a long, hungry lay-up here in the Lair, waiting for things to settle down back in Undertown. But no! Apparently there is a leagues fleet coming to do battle with us …’

  At this, a buzz rose amongst the sky pirate captains, along with muttered oaths and excited shouts.

  ‘We shall set sail from the lair by first light and clash with this leagues fleet of theirs …’

  More shouts rose up from the captains all around Maris, together with calls of ‘Sky curse them!’ and ‘We’ll feed them to the Mother Storm!’

  ‘… And it will be a mighty clash, I promise you, comrades!’ Ice Fox boomed. ‘The greatest clash there has ever been …’

  The captains hollered and bayed and roared their approval.

  ‘The clash of the sky galleons!’

  As a swirling bank of cloud scudded across the vast expanse of the Edgeland pavement, the great armada of sky pirate ships rose up over the gloamglozer rock. The air filled with the roar of flight-rock burners and bellowed commands.

  ‘Raise the stern-weights!’

  ‘Steady, five degrees to port!’

  ‘Arm the catapults!’

  In a graceful arcing line, the mighty sky ships swept out over the edge, their sails suddenly billowing, one by one, in a great spider-silk ripple as they caught the wind. Then, equally suddenly, the great armada was racing on the crest of the howling wind back over the Edgelands and towards the high peaks of the Deepwoods treeline far in the distance.

  Like a mighty flock of migrating snowbirds, the sky pirate ships fanned out into a great arrowhead formation, with the slower, heavier vessels like the Fogscythe and the Thundercrusher at the ends of the line, and the sleek black Maelstrom Seeker at its tip.

  Eighteen vessels along on the right-hand spur, the Galerider raced through the air under full sail. Just ahead of her, the Mistseeker, with her crew of hammerhead warrior maidens, was a magnificent sight, while behind, on Galerider’s shoulder, was the slim, elegant Iceblade, her decks teeming with tufted goblins armed to the teeth.

  At the helm, Hubble the banderbear clasped the ship’s wheel, holding a steady course, while Quint’s hands raced over the flight-levers. Behind him stood Raffix in full armour, his great black cloak billowing out behind him, ready to take over at Quint’s command.

  ‘A sky pirate armada under full sail!’ he called over Quint’s shoulder. ‘What a magnificent sight, Quint, old chap!’

  Quint smiled. Raffix was right. The great armada, in its arrowhead formation, each wing numbering one hundred and twenty vessels, did indeed look magnificent -but Quint didn’t have time to admire the view. As the Galerider sped on, his mind was racing. Any moment now, with the Deepwoods speeding past below them, the leagues fleet would come into view. Two hundred and forty pairs of eyes peered out from the armada’s caternests, straining to spot their billowing sails and furnace smoke.

  When they did, at the tip of the arrowhead, the Galerider was to follow the Maelstrom Seeker and thirty-eight of her sister sky ships - the fastest and sleekest in the armada - and slice through the league ship fleet. Once they had been scattered, the heavier sky pirate ships would close in and pound the league ships into surrender, while the Galerider and the attack ships cut off their retreat.

  It had sounded so simple when Ice Fox had outlined the battle-plan on the map table in the cabin of the Maelstrom Seeker the night before. But now that they were actually racing through the bright, sunlit sky, Quint was not so sure. He could only hope that, as the youngest sky pirate captain in the armada, he wouldn’t let everybody down.

  ‘Stay close to the vessel in front…’ he repeated to himself under his breath. ‘Guard her mast; let the vessel behind guard yours … Steer straight, harpoon up, keel down…’

  ‘Talking to yourself, eh, Quint? First sign of madness, you know?’ Phin’s laughing face looked up at him from the aft-deck.

  ‘Make sure the crossbow bolts are greased,’ Quint called down to him, ‘and the …’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ laughed the young academic-at-arms. �
��You steer the ship,’ he said. ‘Me and the lads’ll take care of any unwanted guests!’

  From the harpoon on the fore-deck, Tem Barkwater and Duggin turned and waved, while beside Phin, Stope the grey goblin forge-hand raised his polished helmet so comically that Quint had to smile.

  Up on the flight-rock platform, Maris, in her greatcoat and breast-plate, and with the medicine chest strapped to her back, stood beside the Stone Pilot, her face drawn and anxious-looking.

  ‘Leagues fleet on the horizon!’ The shout went up from caternests all along the line. ‘Thousand strides and closing! They’ve seen us … They’re turning!’

  Quint’s mouth was dry, and his fingers trembled as they moved expertly over the flight-levers. This was it; the great clash of the sky galleons that Ice Fox had promised.

  ‘Sky protect us,’ Quint muttered, concentrating hard on keeping the Galerider in formation.

  They must have been sailing fast for, moments later, when Quint looked up, the league ship fleet was just ahead. The big, sluggish league ships had none of the elegance of the sky pirate ships. They had been built to haul cargo, and most had clusters of small flight-rocks or unwieldy rubble cages that made them slow and difficult to manoeuvre. They now turned their sides to the oncoming sky pirate ships, prow to stern in a wall across the sky.

  It was a classic defensive formation that allowed the leaguesmen clustered round catapults, slingshots and log-hurlers on the decks a shot at the sky pirate armada as it closed in. It was the task of the sky pirate ships at the tip of the arrowhead formation to break through this wall any way they could.

  ‘Light the harpoon, Tem,’ ordered Quint as the forty sky pirate ships at the arrowtip raced towards the lumbering wall of league ships. ‘Target the rock cage!’

  At the prow, Tem, with Duggin by his side, lit the end of the great lufwood harpoon and took aim.

  ‘League ships twenty strides and closing!’ Spillins shouted from the caternest.

  Suddenly, a great hail of missiles spat from the league ships out across the sky - burning deck-javelins, sumpwood-charcoal grenades, spiked lufwood logs and molten balls of ironwood sap.

  ‘Take cover!’ Quint shouted urgently and tensed at the helm.

  In front of him, the great bulk of Hubble shrank down behind the wheel, pulling a fire-blanket up over his shoulders, while behind Quint, Raffix raised a large iron-wood shield above their heads.

  The next moment, the air filled with angry humming and whizzing bursts as fiery missiles raced past them. A sumpwood-charcoal grenade landed on the flight-rock platform with a resounding clang, only to be kicked angrily overboard by the boot of the Stone Pilot, where it fizzed and crackled as it exploded into a million buzzing fragments. On the port-side, the nether-sail fizzled as a javelin tore a fiery hole in its centre, Quint pulling back sharply on the flight-lever to set it fluttering free behind them, like a blazing woodmoth. The Galerider shuddered once, twice, as lufwood logs hit her sides and bounced off while, just above Quint’s head, the ironwood shield rattled as a hail of flaming splinters rained down upon them.

  ‘Prepare for keel attack!’ Quint shouted above the din, praying silently that the crew’s tethers were all secure.

  Ahead, at the tip of the arrow formation, the Maelstrom Seeker must have reached the wall of league ships, for the unmistakable sound of sky battle rang out: a huge shattering thunderclap of sound - the clash!

  Clash! Clash! Clash! Clash!

  Ahead of the Galerider, sky pirate ship after sky pirate ship hit the wall of league ships in front of them, their razor-sharp keels up as their captains pulled hard on the flight-levers and their stone pilots doused their flight-rocks moments before impact.

  Now it was Quint’s turn. In front of the Galerider, like a monstrous bubbling cauldron spitting fire, the Bane of the Mighty - the league ship he’d seen being launched - filled the sky. Beside it, listing badly, its aft-hull shattered and flight-rock cage disintegrating, the league ship Forger of Triumph marked where the Mistseeker had just broken through. Over Quint’s shoulder, the slim elegant Iceblade had taken a direct hit to its flight-rock that sent it spinning wildly as the hot rock sank.

  ‘Fire!’ Quint screamed at Tem, and the next moment, the Galerider’s harpoon rocketed from her prow and smashed into the rock cage of the Bane of the Mighty.

  Seconds later, Quint flattened the flight-levers, and the Stone Pilot doused the flight-rock. With a shuddering crash! the Galerider reared up into the sky, its razor-sharp keel tearing through the aft-castle of the league ship as it did so. Quint glimpsed the ashen, terrified face of the leagues captain at the wheel of the Bane of the Mighty, as they hurtled past, and felt a sickening pang in the pit of his stomach.

  The Galerider sped on into the clouds, part of a now ragged arrowtip formation which, Quint could see as he looked over his shoulder, had done its job well. The wall of league ships had split apart, vessels listing to one side, spiralling out of control, or disintegrating entirely and falling in fiery splinters from the sky. But it had not been without cost. At least ten magnificent sky pirate ships were ablaze. And as the Galerider joined the other attack ships and they fell into line once more, the Iceblade hurtled down into the Deepwoods canopy in a blazing ball of fire.

  Quint swallowed hard, sickened and shocked by the terrible scene of carnage before him. The heavier sky pirate ships were moving in now, bearing down on the league ships that remained, scattered in twos and threes but still spitting forth a hail of missiles. The Fogscythe fired a great blazing ironwood ball that shattered a heavy league ship, the Profit Bringer, in one blow. Around it, the league ships now sent up signals of white smoke, signifying their surrender, as great flocks of distressed ratbirds spiralled round the battle, searching for new roosts, and leaguesmen clustered in tiny barges and lifeboats, or fell screaming down into the Deepwoods below.

  ‘A magnificent yet terrible sight,’ murmured Raffix behind Quint. ‘Poor wretches.’

  But Quint wasn’t listening, for at his feet lay Hubble the banderbear, a great, bloody gash across his forehead where a shard from a sumpwood grenade had hit him.

  ‘Take the helm, Raffix,’ Quint ordered, dropping to his knees and cradling the young banderbear in his arms.

  He was still breathing, but his eyes were closed and short soft whimpers of pain were escaping from his great tusked mouth. Maris appeared, her face flushed and her medicine chest open under one arm.

  ‘Duggin’s wounded in the leg,’ she reported, ‘and Phin has minor burns … Oh, Hubble!’ Maris knelt down beside the banderbear and hurriedly began cleaning the wound. ‘It’s deep,’ she said, her voice betraying her concern. ‘I’ll do what I can, Quint.’

  Quint got to his feet and crossed to the balustrade, which he pounded angrily with a clenched fist.

  ‘Why does there have to be such death and destruction?’ he stormed. ‘Such pointless waste …’

  The words died in his mouth as he stared out across the sky. The sky pirate armada was regrouping around them, the Maelstrom Seeker holding its position at the head of the long line. But Quint wasn’t looking at the sleek black vessel. Instead, his eyes were focused on a great dark bank of cloud to the west, out of which a gigantic vessel was emerging. It was like no sky ship he’d ever seen before. Quint’s hands fumbled at his breast-plate as he unbuckled his telescope and held it to his eye.

  ‘What the … ?’ Spillins’s astonished voice sounded from the caternest above.

  The sky ship had six masts, a massive expanse of deck and a towering aft-castle. Its huge sails billowed out, sending the great vessel speeding towards the sky pirate armada at an astonishing rate. As it drew closer, Quint could see it was armed with weapons of every type. There were boarding-spikes, battering-rams, harpoons lining every one of the six tiered decks, catapults fore and aft, and crossbows, log-hurlers and deck-splitters everywhere.

  As if that wasn’t enough, this vessel had no ordinary crew. Quint scanned the decks. They were teeming w
ith black feathered shrykes, clad in armour and bristling with murderous weapons. On its massive curved prow, the sky ship’s name was picked out in gold letters.

  The Bringer of Doom.

  ‘A league ship …’ Quint breathed.

  As he watched, the mighty sky galleon’s flight-rock burners flared, and as gracefully as a sky pirate ship a quarter of her size, The Bringer of Doom swooped down past the Fogscythe, the heaviest of the sky pirate ships. Suddenly, five flaming missiles - huge blazing logs -shot from the league ship and smashed into the Fogscythe, which exploded into flames. The Bringer of Doom, as if demonstrating its name, sped past the armada before it had time to manoeuvre and destroyed the equally heavy Thundercrusher in a matter of moments. It then circled round the mesmerized fleet once more, like a ravenous white-collar wolf circling a flock of frightened tilder.

  Then the unthinkable happened. One by one - the smaller vessels at first, then spreading through the armada - the sky pirates began to abandon their beloved sky ships. The air filled with parawings as the sky pirate crews descended into the Deepwoods below.

  Several, like the Stormrunner and the Driftcleaver tried to flee under full sail, but The Bringer of Doom ran them down in an instant, shattering the first with its enormous keel and the other with its catapults. The shrykes on board screeched and cackled, clearly in a blood-frenzy as the sky pirate ships went down, dragging several fleeing sky pirates out of the air and devouring them on deck.

  Quint stood mesmerized as the nightmare unfolded, crew after crew abandoning their ships while the shattered remnants of the leagues fleet gathered greedily behind their monstrous saviour, The Bringer of Doom. Soon, with even the crew of the Maelstrom Seeker disappearing down into the green forest canopy below, the Galerider was alone in an armada of ghost ships.