by Maggie Allen
“You’re welcome.” Kendree smiled, the skin of her cheeks crackling from her dried tears. “Wait until you see the view!”
Cap’n Harry and the Pirates
Austin Hackney
Austin worked for two decades in children’s theater and television before dedicating himself to writing. Austin’s fiction, for both young people and adults, has been published under his own name in Aquila Magazine for Children, Dark Tales, Scribble, The Criminal Class Review, Unsettling Wonder, Stupefying Stories, Quarter Reads, and now The Young Explorer’s Adventure Guide. He divides his time between homes in Northumberland, England and Tuscany, Italy. He has two children and when not writing or reading, is a keen field ornithologist involved in conservation work in the UK. Austin’s Twitter handle is @AGHackney. He also blogs at austinhackney.co.uk
Cap’n Harry and Sibelius are the stars of the forthcoming Dark Sea Trilogy. You can find out more about them, their world and their adventures at TheDarkSea.com.
Harriet Howland – the freebooting aviator and Cap’n of The Redoubtable, an enviably fast old style Skyship that she’d obtained on her first adventure across the Dark Sea to the Moon - was preparing to celebrate her birthday in style.
“Now listen up good an’ proper you lot!” she said to the gathered band of rag-tag skyfarers who were comrades, crew and family to her. “We done right well to get that treasure an’ bring it back safe an’ sound from the Outer Archipelago. The Ancient Seal of the City, no less! I’m dead proud of us all, ain’t I just. An’ I’ve ‘ad notice that the Lord Mayor of Lundoon ‘isself is comin’ aboard this very after’ to collect the blessed thing. Frankly, I’ll be glad to get it off me ‘ands. While we’ve got it aboard, we ain’t none of us safe. We all know there’s other interests that wouldn’t stop short o’ bloodshed to get their piratical ‘ands on it.”
Harriet paused a moment in her oratory as a general murmur passed among the assembly.
“’owever,” she continued, beaming, “As it’s me bloomin’ birthday, I reckon we should ‘ave a fine and fancy feast to celebrate our safe return. Whaddya reckon lads an’ lasses?”
Caps flew into the air, borne up above the general cheers and whistles of approval. “Three cheers for Cap’n Harry!” cried a voice, and soon they all took up the cry, “Pip-pip-hooray!” followed by a hearty if somewhat tuneless rendition of “for she’s a jolly good fellow.”
“I thank you all, from the bottom of me ‘eart. Now, then – even a feast don’t make ‘isself, so let’s look lively – we’ll be wantin’ ale and grub and a space clearin’ for music an’ dancin’. Let’s be about it!”
While the crew set about their preparations, Harriet went down to her cabin and locked the door. Sibelius, the one-time Secrets Trader, member of the Monkey Nation, and now Harriet’s best friend and First Mate aboard The Redoubtable, was waiting for her.
He sat by the latticed window, looking out over the expanse of Dark Sea that still lay between them and the curvature of the Earth. Beyond the Earth the distant suns of the Outer Archipelago glittered and twinkled like Christmas fairy lights.
“That’s them lot busy, at any rate,” said Harriet.
The sky-monkey turned and nodded, smiling, showing a golden tooth. His leather cap was pushed back on his head, a tarnished silver ring pierced his ear, and his brass goggles hung about his neck. With one hand he brushed some invisible dust off his jerkin and breeches and then, reaching up a muscular, hairy arm, swung himself down onto the ground.
“They’re still there,” he said. “And, je crois, they come more close.”
“D’you think they’re onto us, then?”
“Perhaps, mon amie, perhaps. But I do not think they can know of the treasure. It is possible that they want to find me. After what happened before …”
“Yeah,” said Harriet, adjusting the eyepiece on the electroscope and flicking the brass switch so that the device popped and crackled into life as she bent down to look into it, “well they ain’t ‘avin’ you and that’s an end to it. You might ‘ve given them Pirates the run around, but you saved all our skins.”
“Even so, mademoiselle, I would not like to put you or the crew in danger.”
“I reckon we’re already in danger enough until we shift this treasure, Sibelius.” She adjusted a knob on the side of the electroscope. “Looks like they’ve come to a standstill. I wonder why they don’t come no closer? Mayhap it’s ‘cos they know we’re expectin’ the Lord Mayor’s ship up from Lundoon? No, wait a minute … They’ve launched a shuttle – an’ it’s headin’ towards us!”
As she finished speaking, a quiet bell tinkled from the communications device atop her Captain’s desk.
Harriet pushed aside the charts and star maps that were spread out over it so she could reach the winding handle. A few vigorous turns and a small cylinder popped out a tube at the top of the machine. Harriet caught it, and fingered out a typed scroll. Her eyes scanned the script.
“The Mayor’s on ‘is way now,” she frowned. “That’s bad timin’ and no mistake.”
Sibelius rubbed a leathery hand over his hairy chin. “The shuttle, she gets closer,” he said. “But it seems she changes course, towards the Earth …”
“Maybe they’re goin’ to try an’ intercept the Mayor?”
“But why, if he does not have the treasure?”
“I don’t know. You keep an eye on them pirates an’ we’ll prepare to repel boarders if we ‘ave to. It’s too late to warn the Mayor now ‘es on ‘is way.”
Harriet opened the oak box which held the treasure and withdrew a circle of embossed gold and silver; the Seal of the City of Lundoon. She slipped it into the leather pouch hanging from her belt and headed back up on deck.
The deck had been swept and swabbed, colored flags were festooned between the rigging, delicious smells wafted up from the galley, and the crew were already busy laying out trestle tables and rolling barrels of ale ready for tapping.
Harriet stood on the hind deck and looked out through her handscope. Above her the huge gas balloon that kept the ship afloat swelled and swayed, the steel cables that bound it to the body of the ship twanging and humming in the cosmic wind. The Dark Sea stretched out around her in all directions, the islands and stars near and far aglow with colored radiance.
The pirate shuttle sped through the inky darkness, like a flash of white flame in the night. But its course, as Sibelius had said, had changed. What are they up to? she thought. We should move The Redoubtable closer to port. If we’re in sight of the Skywatch they’re less likely to attack.
“Cap’n! Come quick!” The cry was urgent, almost panicked.
Harriet ran down to the main deck. A little huddle of crewmen stood by the open door of her cabin.
“It’s Sibelius!” one of them cried. “They’ve kidnapped ‘im!”
“Who ‘ave?” said Harriet, blanching as she pushed through the little crowd and into her cabin.
“The pirates!”
“But they’re miles …” The words dried on her lips. The window where Sibelius had been sitting was smashed, shards of glass and papers scattered over the floor, a chair knocked over. Beyond the broken glass a small, silent windcraft, boldly flying the pirate insignia, sped away into the dark.
“Sibelius,” said Harriet quietly, her heart pounding. The shuttle was just a decoy – and I fell for it! Then she was all action. “Right, you lot – get this mess cleared up and the window fixed. Davy, Sam, you follow me.”
Up on deck, she rang the clanging alarm bell. “I don’t want to spoil the party,” she announced to the crew. “But there’s been pirates on our tail since we left the Inner Reach. We was keepin’ an eye on ‘em, but it seems they tricked us good an’ proper. They sneaked up in a windcraft. They’ve ‘knapped Sibelius.”
The crew gasped and the gasp was quickly followed by loud and angry shouts. “Let’s go after ‘em, blow ‘em out the sky!”
“Aye, aye. But wait,” said Harriet. “They’
ll see us comin’ a mile off, an’ this ol’ girl, fast as she is, ain’t no match for the speed of a windcraft. ‘Sides, we’ve the Mayor on ‘is way to collect the treasure.”
“We’ve got to save Sibelius!”
“’Course we ‘ave,” said Harriet. Her heart was suddenly thumping. A prickle of sweat broke out at the back of her neck. How long could she wait? She couldn’t. She’d have to offend the Mayor. He’ll think I’ve stolen it, she thought. Then said,“Meself, Davy an’ Sam are headin’ out now to give chase. Fire up the steamrocket! And look lively!”
Once in the pilot’s seat, with Davy and Sam strapped in behind her, Harriet pulled down her goggles, checked the pressure gauge and yanked back the contact lever. The steamrocket roared into life, a jet of hot steam shooting out from behind. Harriet released the brake and the thing shot forward, rising from the foredeck and soaring into the dark.
The cosmic winds blew and buffeted the little craft and Harriet strained to hold a steady course.
“Full throttle, Cap’n!” shouted Davy over the noise of the engine and rushing air.
“It is full throttle,” Harriet shouted over her shoulder. “But we’re losing ground on the windship.”
“If we don’t catch them before they get back to their ship, what then?” chimed in Sam.
“Then we board ‘er,” said Harriet, her face grim.
The others said nothing then. To board the pirate ship, just the three of them, was about as dangerous a thing as they could possibly do.
Even as they ripped through the Dark Sea as fast as the steamrocket could manage, Harriet knew, watching the windship whooshing ever faster into the distance, that they had no chance of catching up.
Once she’d seen the windship moor alongside the pirate vessel and lock on, she swerved away and flew the rocket in a broad arc, out over the top of the ship and round back toward The Redoubtable. It was an unnecessary manoeuvre, but she needed time to think.
I gotta rescue Sibelius, no question, she thought. But I can’t risk the lives of Davy and Sam, to do it.
“Davy,” she said as she cranked the rocket into cruise speed and tripped the gyroscopic autobalance mechanism on. “I’m goin’ down. I’ll take the batwings. You keep the rocket circling slow an’ out of reach of fire. I’ll signal you when I’ve got Sibelius.”
“You can’t go in on your own, Cap’n! It’s too dangerous.”
“It’s more dangerous to try an’ land this thing,” she said. “If I go down on the wings, there’s a chance that I can get aboard without ‘em seein’ me. We’ll play ‘em at their own game. You make out that you’re heading back home an’ while they’re watching you, I’ll sneak aboard.”
“But Cap’n …”
“It’s an order.”
“Aye-aye, Cap’n.”
A moment later and Davy had taken the controls.
Harriet was sitting on the edge of a lateral rocket fin, pulling a stiff leather pack onto her back and tightening the straps around her waist and over her shoulders. She reached behind her and wound the crank handle on the side of the pack, listening to the clickety-clack as the clockwork mechanism wound tight. She pulled down her goggles, leaned into the wind - and jumped.
For a few seconds she fell through the dark emptiness, then she pulled the rip cord and the batwings, oiled leather stretched over a wooden framework, sprang out from the pack. She was in full, flapping flight, the mechanism clattering steadily behind her back.
She kept high at first, out of sight, as the steamrocket arced round, banked, and headed back towards The Redoubtable. Then she spiralled down towards the pirate ship.
Batwings were only meant for bailing out in emergencies. The mechanism would wind down and leave her stranded, at the mercy of the cosmic winds and the infinite vastness of the Dark Sea, if she didn’t reach a landing point soon.
Harriet circled down above the pirate ship. It was much larger than her own and clad in heavy steel plates. The menacing skull and crossed bones flag fluttered from its turret.
Funny thing is, Harriet thought as she came closer, it looks like there’s no-one about. Place is deserted.
Imagining the pirates all below deck gloating over their latest prize, her confidence grew. She steered herself between the iron and steel chimneys and over the blackened deck, searching for a place to land.
Then she saw Sibelius.
He was locked in a cage on the main deck. The cage itself was secured to posts by chains. They’re right full o’ themselves these blinkin’ pirates, thought Harriet. Thinking they can get away with this without even placin’ a guard! Even so, she had no idea, looking at the chunky padlock, how she was going to get him out of there before somebody did show up.
Harriet landed as lightly as she could, a soft thud. “Sibelius!” she hissed as she unbuckled the belt and shrugged the straps from her shoulders, leaving the batwings to clatter unceremoniously to the floor.
It was only when she reached the bars of the cage she noticed the expression on the sky-monkey’s face, the rapid shaking of his head and the anxiety in his eyes.
But by then it was too late.
Pirates appeared from everywhere. They popped up from behind barrels, through doorways, dropped down from the rigging and emerged through trapdoors. Cutlasses flashed and the barrels of pistols all pointed her way.
It’s a trap! Harriet looked left and right and all around, but there was no way of escape. You’re losin’ your touch, Cap’n Harry, she thought to herself. That’s the second time in one day that these lousy pirates have got the better of you.
“Welcome to my parlour, said the spider to the fly.” Harriet spun round to face the speaker. It was the pirate captain, her old enemy and would-be nemesis. He grinned at her even as Harriet felt her own brow knot up in consternation. “How kind of you to … drop by.”
The pirates sniggered.
“What do you want Sibelius for?”
“Sibelius? Oh, the ape. Only as bait for the more important prize.”
“Me?”
“You!” the pirate snorted. “Hardly you! You flatter yourself, my dear. It is the Seal that I want. Your job is very easy. Give it to me.”
“I ain’t got it. It’s back on me ship.”
The Captain sighed and took a few paces towards Harriet. She tensed and backed off, but her arms were suddenly held fast by two rough looking coves whose skin was blotched and dirty and who stank of sweat and stale rum.
Suddenly the pirate Captain was right in front of her, his peppermint breath cool on her cheeks. “You shouldn’t lie to me,” he said quietly. Then his hand moved like lightning and a thin, curved blade flashed a malicious smile. Its treacherous kiss cut her belt and the pouch containing the Seal fell at his feet with a heavy thud. Without taking his eyes from Harriet, he lowered his boot onto it lightly and smiled. “Thank you,” he said.
Harriet struggled to free herself from the grip of the pirates but they held her fast. The pirate Captain picked up the Seal then turned his back and walked away. With a dismissive gesture of his hand he said, “Take them away!”
It was gloomy and cold in the bowels of the pirate ship, where Harriet and Sibelius were locked in a holding cell. A feint glimmer of sickly light spilled in through the grimy glass of a tiny porthole above them. Cobwebs hung thick in the corners and an occasional spider scuttled through the shadows.
“I’m dead sorry, Sibelius,” said Harriet. “I come ‘ere to rescue you and just got us both into worse bother than before – an’ I lost the blinkin’ treasure. I’m a fool an’ no mistake.”
Sibelius sighed. “No, mademoiselle, I do not think you are a fool. You are brave and perhaps a little foolhardy, but not a fool.”
“The question is, ‘ow the blazes are we goin’ to get out o’ this pretty mess? ‘Seems our adventurin’ days may be over.”
“Listen!”
Heavy footfalls sounded on the other side of the door. Both Harriet and Sibelius stood up and edged closer, st
epping over the scuttling spiders that cleared out of their way. They both listened intently.
The footfall stopped. “Oh this is a fine job!” said a gruff voice. “Stuck down here in the grimy hold to keep these little wretches under lock and key.”
“They say the monkey can talk.”
“Bewitched, I’ll wager. That girl may fancy herself the cap’n of a ship, but my money’s on her being nothing more’n a witch, if the truth is known.”
“I’d rather have her as my cap’n than that miserable fellow up top, witch or no witch.”
“You keep your voice down, mate, or it’ll be you that’s hanging from a hempen rope today and not these two here.”
Harriet gulped. Sibelius rubbed his hairy hand around his neck.
“They say the Captain is scared of spiders, you know. Makes out he’s brave and bold, but he’s scared of spiders!”
“Good job he don’t come down here, then, mate! Place is riddled with ‘em.”
Harriet and Sibelius exchanged glances and then looked around at their cobweb infested prison.
“I saw him once, the Captain, up on a chair and simpering like a tearful toddler, because there was a spider in the corner of his chambers!”
With silent understanding, Harriet nodded to Sibelius and a moment later they were busy catching every spider they could lay their hands on. They shoved them into their pockets, into their shirts, anywhere they could find. There were hundreds to be had.
“Mademoiselle, régarde!” said Sibelius suddenly, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Harriet came over to look. Tucked in the corner of the cell was a thick white bundle of gossamer web, packed loosely around the softness of thousands of spider eggs. Harriet grinned. Sibelius lifted the nest carefully away from the wall and put it into his pouch.
A horn sounded. The guards shuffled and grumbled and then the bolt squealed back and the door opened. The guards stood with their long-barrelled flintlocks pointing at Harriet and Sibelius.
