Scout's Honor: A Planetary Romance

by Henry Vogel

  “And would you have warned us if you’d known in time?” Callan pressed.

  “I...think I would have,” Raoul said. As Callan shook her head in disgust, he added, “At least I’m being honest!”

  “Is that supposed to make it all better?” Callan asked.

  “No, Callan—”

  “You no longer have leave to use my given name!”

  “Yes...Your Highness,” Raoul said. "It’s just... Those Mordanian guards and airmen—it’s not my fault they died!”

  “It’s not your fault?” Raoul flinched at her tone. "Pray tell whose fault is it?”

  Raoul hung his head but held his silence.

  “An honorable man would have ended this whole thing at the trading post. One simple word from you and Bane would have left us behind,” Callan said. “Not your fault, Raoul? Why don’t you tell that to Rob!”

  Turning away, Callan said, “Tristan, may I use your cabin? I would be alone, please.”

  Tristan showed her to the Pauline’s cabin.

  I said, “Tell us who hired Martin Bane.”

  Raoul’s gaze turned defiant, “No.”

  “My boy, Raoul has already told us,” Tristan said. "Only one person could conceive such a convoluted plan to reinvent the Spare Prince.”

  I was ashamed my emotions had kept me from realizing it sooner.

  “I’ve known some mama’s boys in my time,” I said, “but never one so pathetic as you! Nist, would you please bind the Mama’s Prince? We can’t risk letting him have the run of the ship.”

  Once Raoul was secured, I asked, “Do you have any idea what we should do with him, Tristan?”

  “Before retiring, Her Highness left instructions,” Tristan said. "When we get to Beloren, we’re to find a Tartegian registered airship and turn him over to them.”

  “That’s more leniency than he deserves,” I said.

  “Perhaps that’s true, lad,” Tristan said, “but it’s politically astute. It speaks well of Princess Callan’s intelligence and training that she chose to do it.”

  We flew on through the darkness, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I had drifted into sleep when a shout from Nist roused me.

  “Master!” called Nist, pointing ahead of us. "Look!”

  Across the plain, a wide-spread glow danced against the horizon. The city of Beloren was in flames!

  Chapter 53

  Fire climbed into the night, raging across Beloren. Dark shapes moved against the flickering light as thousands of airships fled from the conflagration. The smell of smoke was in the air and, if the wind was just right, the smoke also stung our eyes. An ash floated down onto the deck of the airship. A minute later, another ash followed it.

  “The city must have been burning for hours if ash has drifted this far,” Tristan observed.

  “What could have caused this? Is Beloren at war with someone?” I asked.

  “The southern city states wage trade wars all the time, but those rarely involve more than import tariffs,” Tristan said. “I haven’t heard of anything that would provoke something like this.”

  “It seems too wide-spread to simply be a building fire that got out of control,” I said.

  “Master!” called Nist. "We’ve got a ship bearing down on us. A very big one!”

  “See if you can get above it, Nist, but I don’t think we need to run from it.” Tristan turned to me, “Do you recognize the airship?”

  “No, at least not in this light,” I said. “Should I?”

  “It’s a common configuration for Tartegian naval vessels,” Tristan said.

  “You think it’s Bane?” I asked.

  “I would suspect so,” Tristan responded.

  “There’s one easy way to find out,” I said, cupping my hands. "Bane? Is that you making our pilot nervous?”

  “I thought that little ship might be you, Rice! Yours is the only ship approaching the city,” came the reply. "Permission to come aboard?”

  “Why?” I asked, then remembered Princess Callan’s plans to meet with Bane. "Never mind. Permission granted, though for you only. The rest of your crew stays on your ship. If any of them attempt to board, we’ll kill your employer’s only son!”

  A few seconds passed, then, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Rice.”

  “Since we both know you’re lying, I’d suggest you just drop the act, Bane!” I called. ”We know the whole story.”

  “From what I’ve heard of intrigue in the Tartegian court,” Tristan murmured, “I seriously doubt that’s true.”

  Bane called, “Believe whatever makes you happy, Rice. But I agree, only I board.”

  Bane’s airship maneuvered alongside the Pauline. I held my sword at Raoul’s throat as Bane came aboard. True to his word, his airship moved away once he was aboard.

  “Why were you looking for me, Bane?” I asked.

  “I’m trying to keep your head from ending up on a pike on what’s left of the gates of Beloren,” Bane said. "The city government doesn’t know your name, yet, but they blame you for the fire!”

  Chapter 54

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” I said. "I just discovered the city was burning a few minutes ago! I couldn’t have started the fire even if I’d wanted to—which I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t say they accuse you of setting the fire,” Bane said. "I said they blame you for the fire.”

  “That’s equally ridiculous!” I protested. “I only spent a few hours inside the city. How can I be to blame?”

  “The tunnel rats started fires all over the city in retribution for their fellow rats who died during your rescue of the princess and prince,” Bane said. "And for forcing them to kill their tammar.”

  “Are you telling me that saving people from the tunnel rats is a crime?” I asked.

  “You won’t find any such law on the books,” Bane said, “but the city and the tunnel rats have an unspoken agreement. The rats leave respectable, well-to-do citizens alone, preying on the poor and outcasts teeming throughout the city. The city’s population of undesirables is kept in check without endangering anyone important. In return, the city leaves the tunnel rats alone.

  “According to the unspoken agreement, the lives of the prince and princess were forfeit when they entered the tunnels on their own,” Bane said. “By rescuing them, you broke the peace.”

  Glaring at Raoul, Bane added, “You also saved me from having to do the same thing.”

  Turning back to me, Bane said, “The debt I incurred for that is repaid with this warning. Keep clear of Beloren and you should be fine. Now, I’m going to recall my ship and—”

  “Please stay a while longer,” said Callan as she emerged from the cabin. "I have a proposition to discuss with you..”

  Callan strode toward us, her face calm and her eyes hard.

  “But first, what became of Rob’s body?” Callan asked.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I took his body to be properly prepared,” Bane said, “but the fire changed everything. It was all I could do to escape the flames with my ship and crew.”

  Callan turned her gaze toward the city, “An entire city burns in response to Rob’s death.”

  “It’s as grand a funeral pyre as any man could ask,” Bane said.

  Callan watched the burning city for a moment and then nodded. Turning back to Bane, she said, “I have need of a fleet of fighting airships. Will you recruit and command such a fleet for me? If you will, how quickly can you recruit the fleet and how much will it cost?”

  “The cost depends entirely on what you wish us to fight,” Bane replied.

  “Trogs,” Callan answered.

  “Ah, yes, the trog army did appear to be headed toward the Mordanian border. And the navy is sure to be spread far and wide, searching for the heir to the throne.” Bane thought for a moment, “Standard mercenary wages for all ships. I’ll need one day to recruit the ships.”

  “Agreed,” Callan said.

  �
��And,” Bane said, “your father will issue a full pardon for one Martin Bane!”

  Chapter 55

  “A full pardon?” I demanded. "For you?”

  “You bring up a good point, Rice,” Bane said. "Your Highness, change that to a pardon for me, my crew, and the officers and crews of all of the ships who sign up for this venture. After all, you can’t expect men to risk imprisonment or execution at the hands of those they’ve come to aid.”

  “I am willing to grant a temporary stay of arrests and prosecution for all officers and crew, but only for the duration of their employment,” Callan offered.

  “Unacceptable,” Bane countered. "Once the Mordanian navy has regrouped and we are deep within Mordan’s borders, what keeps you from discharging us from your service and ordering your navy to attack us?”

  “You have my word of honor as a princess of the royal house of Mordan!”

  Bane retorted, “That’s very generous of you, I’m sure, but I prefer something tangible. Something in writing which I can show to, say, a naval ship’s captain.”

  “What if my father refuses to honor my pardon?” Callan countered. “He is not bound to honor any agreements I make in his name.”

  “He may not be legally bound to honor the agreement, but if he doesn’t he’ll risk casting doubt on all documents signed in his stead by his diplomats,” Bane said. "No, Highness, I have full confidence that he’ll honor your agreement.”

  “You know I have little choice and you drive a hard bargain, sir,” Callan said. "Very well, I agree to your terms provided we include one final condition. Upon completion of this contract, you leave Mordan and, on pain of death, never cross her borders again.”

  Bane’s eyebrows arched, “Well, Your Highness, that addition was unexpected! Your father will be proud! With reluctance, I accept.” Bane flashed a smile. “I suppose this means I’m off the invitation list for the wedding?”

  Early morning light bathed the deck before the signing, sealing, and planning was complete.

  Returning Bane to his ship, we gave Beloren a wide berth as we steamed north toward the rendezvous point where the fleet would gather. We spotted no Tartegian vessels along the way, leaving us with little choice but to keep the Spare Prince aboard.

  Throughout the afternoon and into the night, a motley assortment of airships joined us. At dawn, we counted twenty-one ships flying north behind the Pauline.

  A tight smile played across Callan’s lips. "Let’s go hunting.”

  Chapter 56

  It took us two days to cross the desert. Bane spent half that time on board Pauline planning strategy and tactics with Princess Callan. And, during a break in the planning, I had the chance to speak with Bane.

  “You know, Raoul tried to convince Her Highness that I was in league with you,” I said.

  Bane arched an eyebrow. “Really? How did he do that?”

  “He claimed you knew the Onesie was useless after Her Highness shot the tammar and only walked away because your agent—me, according to Raoul—was in place,” I explained. “And, much as it pains me to admit it, Raoul has a point. Why did you walk away when you had the upper hand?”

  “Yes, I knew the Onesie wasn’t a threat. But you were a different matter,” Bane responded. “My men had already run away, leaving me to face Rob, a trained warrior, and you, another Scout. Even Boosted, it was a fight I didn’t think I could win.”

  “But I’d already overtaxed my Boost against the trogs!”

  “I didn’t know that,” Bane insisted. “Besides, there was only one place you could go if you wanted to survive in the desert. With an airship, I could get to the trading post ahead of you.”

  I nodded slowly. Bane’s explanation made sense.

  Finally, our mercenary fleet crossed Mordan’s southern border and we began stalking our prey. It was not hard. The trog army had left a trail of devastation a blind man could follow.

  Pain and anger warred in Callan’s green eyes as we flew over slain people, burned buildings, and tortured land. Tristan, Nist, and I offered comforting words. Even Martin Bane, during our planning sessions offered tentative consolation. Callan would not be consoled, deflecting our words with discussions of tactics.

  “We’ll be within sight of Faroon within the quarter hour,” Callan said, pointing to the horizon. "The city would be a perfect base of operations for the trogs.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Faroon is a trading hub,” Bane replied. "This time of year, with the harvests recently gathered, the warehouses will be filled with food from all over. The navy keeps a squadron there to patrol the border and deter smuggling. But, like the rest of the navy, they’ll probably be searching for the princess. If the trogs have taken Faroon—which seems certain, at this point—we won’t be able to force them out of the city.”

  “You’re right,” Callan agreed, “but we will control the skies. We’ll be able to keep them pinned down in the city while we send airships in search of reinforcements.”

  Wind whipped around us, making the ship’s lines sing, and clouds as dark as our mood scuttled above us. Bane nodded agreement with Callan as the first drops of rain hit the deck. “It will be difficult, Your Highness. The trogs will be free to do what they wish to the city’s population. You must prepare yourself to endure it.”

  “With all the food in the warehouses, won’t there be lots of airships docked in the city, as well?” I asked.

  “I expect so.” Bane said. “What of it?”

  “Well, what if the trogs have captured merchant airships?” I asked. “Couldn’t they mount an aerial defense of the city?”

  “No,” Bane said. "Trogs don’t use airships.”

  An unbroken rumble of thunder sounded above us.

  “Yes, but trogs don’t form armies, either,” I said.

  Bane looked at me in surprise then turned to look up at the clouds.

  “What do you—” I began.

  “Quiet!” Bane ordered. A few seconds later, he cried, “That sound isn’t thunder!”

  Bane ran back to his own ship, shouting orders. “Emergency signal to the fleet! There are enemy ships above us!”

  Lightning flashed and real thunder roared as airships filled with trogs dropped out of the clouds!

  Chapter 57

  As the airships drew nearer, it became clear that the trogs were not flying them. Men handled the airships, though they did not do so willingly. People—men, women, even children—were tied to railings, hostages to force the cooperation of those flying the ships.

  Bane called across to me, “Rice, get away from the battle! You’re not a warship and your crew is too small to repel boarders for very long. Besides, we can’t risk losing our employer!”

  “You’re all heart, Bane!” I called back, but he had already turned his attention back to the coming battle.

  Nist had heard Bane’s instructions and was already steering away from the fight. I ran to Callan’s side.

  “We’ve got to free Raoul,” I said. "We may need his sword if trogs try to board us!”

  “I’ll go get him,” she said, then added, “He’s much more likely to listen to me than you.”

  The air battle began taking shape behind us. The trog airships outnumbered us, but our crews had their hearts and minds focused on the fight. The enemy airships were sluggish, as the trogs could only pass orders by pointing. Our ships maneuvered crisply as experienced crews sprang to obey orders from the ship’s officers. The situation was dire, but victory was possible.

  Nist shouted to catch my attention, then pointed back through the rain. Two trog ships had broken off from the main battle and were following us! We couldn’t outrun them because we didn’t have a full head of steam built up. We hadn’t been expecting trouble—famous last words—so weren’t able to simply fly away from the larger ships.

  Nist spun the wheel and worked the ailerons with frantic intensity, bobbing and weaving, working to keep the trog airships from boxing us in. During one clo
se swing by one of the airships, I saw one of the trogs plunge a spear into one of the hostages, all the while shouting at the crew.

  Callan and Raoul stumbled out of the cabin, both of them clutching swords.

  “David, what is Nist doing?” Callan called, trying to keep her balance. Then she spotted the trog airships and no longer needed an answer.

  The trogs must have realized the Pauline was too agile and Nist too skillful for their airships to cut us off. The trogs began throwing things at Nist. Boathooks, belaying pins, anything solid they could lay their hands on rained down on the Pauline. It didn’t take very long for something to hit him. Nist collapsed as a boathook smashed into his head. Without Nist working the controls, the Pauline’s flight path straightened out.

  I rushed to take the wheel but it was too late. With a thud, the first trog landed on the deck!

  Chapter 58

  The airship rocked under the trog and he fought for balance. I kicked him in the chest. He stumbled backward and toppled over the railing. Raoul thrust his sword through the next trog to land on the deck. Two more trogs jumped down as Raoul pulled his blade free of the dead trog. I slashed wildly at each, driving both back a couple of steps, but three more of them jumped onto our airship!

  “Princess,” I called, “take the wheel! Steer as wildly as you can. It should keep the trogs off balance and make it harder for more of them to jump to the deck.”

  Raoul ducked under a spear thrust, cutting the trog’s legs out from under him.

  “Raoul, come over here!” I called. "We need to fight back to back and defend the princess.”

  Callan took the wheel and spun it hard. The deck reeled beneath our feet. Raoul stumbled toward me and I caught him. We each grabbed hold of a ship’s line with our free hand, using it as an anchor against the wild swings of the deck. Three trogs mistimed their jumps, plunging past the ship as the four remaining trogs lumbered toward us.