by Henry Vogel
“Less than an hour ago, another spaceship came through the wormhole!”
CHAPTER FOUR
Upon hearing my words, Megan snorted again. Even with her mouth muffled by Martin’s hand, Megan had no trouble making her opinion quite clear. Her eyes spoke volumes as well and made me happy it was Martin’s hand within range of her teeth rather than mine.
I glanced at Martin. “Does she know who you are and where you came from?”
Megan’s flashing eyes turned to Martin and her eyebrows drew down. Was she giving him the evil eye for silencing her or trying to puzzle out where he was born?
“Our relationship hasn’t really advanced to such personal revelations.” Martin turned his winning smile on Megan and was rewarded with a steel-melting glare.
“That explains a lot. Meanwhile, we’ve got things to do.” I turned to face the crowd. “Clear a path, please! We’re leaving.”
Most of the crowd moved aside, but one man planted himself in front of me. “Didn’t you hear what that woman called our princess? We can’t forgive an insult like that!”
“Yes, my good man, I heard. And if I can forgive the singer, so can you,” I said. “After all, I am married to the princess.”
The man smacked his forehead and stepped aside. “Of course, sir! Please forgive me, sir!”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” I clapped him on the shoulder.
My guards took up position on either side of me as we exited the tavern. Outside, I filled Martin in on the spaceship’s arrival. With Martin’s hand no longer covering her mouth, Megan kept trying to interrupt with questions. I plowed ahead with my explanation, overriding her comments and ignoring her questions. I will say this for Megan, she didn’t give up easily.
“So,” Megan said when I stopped speaking, “you and Martin are heading off after one of these ‘spaceships’ you claim to have arrived in?”
“Martin, I’m tired of listening to this woman rant and rave about my origins and crashed spaceships.” I shook my head in disgust. “Then again, there are none so certain as the truly ignorant.”
Megan’s head whipped up, her eyes widened, and her mouth opened and shut several times without a sound emerging. I found it a welcome change.
“Yes, Megan, we’re heading off after a spaceship,” Martin said. “I know you’re well educated, so I truly don’t understand why you’re so determined to cast David as a liar or conman.”
“He’s part of the royal family and royals always lie.” The fire in Megan’s eyes and voice faded as she spoke, as if she spoke out of a long-ingrained habit.
Martin shook his head in mock sorrow. “I must say that you’re quite cynical for one so young.”
“Travel as much as I have and you’d be cynical, too!” Megan replied.
“I’ve been on seven other inhabited worlds,” I said, “and traveled extensively on this world, yet I’m not cynical in the least.”
“No doubt due to the rapture of true love.” Megan’s voice was drier than the desert where I’d crashed.
“People say travel broadens the mind, Megan, but that only works if the mind is open.” I stopped at the palace gate. “You’re safe now, Megan. Run along home!”
“And miss out on the great spaceship hunt and the chance to broaden my mind? Not on your life.” Megan linked arms with Martin. “I’m coming with you!”
“Whoa there, Megan,” I said. “You most definitely are not coming with us!”
“Why not? I’ll stay out of the way.” Megan widened her eyes and pouted, an effect designed to melt the heart of any man who faced it. From the look Martin turned on me, Megan’s pout certainly worked on him. It might have worked on me, too, if I hadn’t married the most beautiful woman on eight planets.
“That pout won’t work on me.” I made shooing motions. “Scat. We don’t need in-flight entertainment for a rescue mission.”
Megan dropped her wide-eyed pout and went back to glaring at me. “Are you afraid I’ll find out the princess isn’t nearly as sweet and beautiful in real life as Rice’s Rescue claims she is?”
I turned to Martin. “What is Rice’s Rescue?”
“It’s the Mordanian counterpoint to Rupor’s Lament. As you might guess, the crown prince of Tarteg isn’t portrayed in the best light in the Mordanian version.” Martin looked back and forth between Megan and me. “But I think you should reconsider your position concerning Megan. There are definite advantages to bringing her along.”
I snorted. “Name just one and I’ll let her join us.”
“Songs will be written about this event. Everyone will benefit if those songs are more accurate than either Rupor’s Lament or Rice’s Rescue.” Martin patted Megan’s arm. “Who better to write some of those songs than an actual eye witness?”
He had a point — a minor point, but a point nonetheless. I sighed. “Fine, Megan can come along. But I’ll warn you right now, if she insults Callan I’m throwing her overboard.”
Megan smiled in triumph. “Well, if your princess is as sweet as you Mordanians say, that won’t be a problem.”
“Well, even if you can’t stop yourself from throwing insults,” Martin added, grinning, “rest assured David will land the airship before giving you the old heave ho.”
“Wait — you’re saying he’s serious about that?”
I headed into the palace and didn’t hear Martin’s reply. Whatever he said didn’t deter Megan. The two of them caught up with me just before I found Callan.
The palace swarmed in a controlled frenzy as pages, guards, and naval officers dashed about. The activity centered on Callan, who made quick decisions followed by crisp orders. The king and queen sat to one side, watching their daughter with proud smiles. They waved as I entered and approached Callan. She signed some order or requisition then turned to me. Rising up on her toes, Callan gave me a peck on the lips and one to Martin on his cheek.
Callan turned a welcoming smile on Megan. Eying Martin’s and Megan’s linked arms, Callan said, “Martin, is this lovely lady the reason you’ve declined my last two dinner invitations?”
“She most definitely is,” Martin smiled. “Megan, this is Her Highness, Princess Callan.”
Megan surprised me by dropping into a curtsey. “Your Highness.”
Callan took Megan’s hand and drew her up. “We don’t stand on ceremony unless we’re in formal court. At least, not among friends.” Callan turned to Martin. “You know you could have brought her to dinner with you.”
“Megan is a musician and was performing both nights,” Martin replied.
I added, “Martin thinks she should accompany us and chronicle this mission in song.”
“What a splendid idea!” Callan smile grew wider. “It will be refreshing to have another woman on board the ship! Most of my trips with David are overwhelmingly masculine.”
“Why thank you, Your Highness.”
“Now Megan, I told you we don’t stand on ceremony among friends. Call me Callan.” Callan turned to me. “I’ve ordered four escort ships for the Pauline. The naval ships are already airborne. We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now.” I waved my arm around us. “But what about all of this activity?”
“Oh, they’re just working out logistics for the follow-on forces. I’m sure the admiralty will be quite happy to handle that without any guidance from me.” Callan slipped her arm through mine. “Let’s go!”
Milo and Tristan were already aboard the airship. Seconds after we boarded, Nist piloted the Pauline into the air and the rescue mission was underway!
CHAPTER FIVE
“Why must all of our escort ships be so...stately?” Nist groused. ‘Stately’ was Nist’s current euphemism for ‘slow.’
“Seven hours and twenty-three minutes,” called Martin. Several guards groaned and one cheered.
“What’s that all about?” Megan asked him.
“Nist always chafes at the top speed of Callan’s escort airships,” Martin
said. “The guards like to bet how long it will take before he voices his frustration aloud.”
I tuned out their conversation as Callan came out of the airship’s cabin and into the dawn light. She had retreated there with Megan shortly after lift-off. The two women passed the intervening hours chatting. I busied myself discussing rescue contingencies with Martin. Distracted as I was, I only realized I hadn’t once heard shouting from the cabin when a quiet and thoughtful Megan returned to the deck. Considering how abrasive Megan was when I’d first met her, I’d expected Callan to adopt her icy, court-proper princess persona at least once during the trip. Yet Callan emerged all smiles from the cabin.
Seeing the direction I was looking, Callan said, “Megan is quite a talented and passionate woman.”
“Lucky Martin,” I murmured.
“Passionate about her beliefs.” Callan rolled her eyes before musing, “Though if their relationship ever becomes seriously romantic then yes, lucky Martin.”
“You like her? I admit you’ve spent more time with Megan, but I found her rather irritating.”
“You met her during her confrontation with an angry mob. One where people truly were ready to hurt her — and in my name, no less.” Callan grimaced. “Fear rarely brings out the best in people, David.”
“She was afraid?” I shook my head. “Megan hid it very well. I thought she was angry!”
“She won’t admit it, but Megan simply wasn’t thinking when she started playing Rupor’s Lament. She should have simply stopped playing when the tavern fell silent. An apology followed by a spritely tune probably would have settled the crowd. But she’s a stubborn woman whose pride forced her to keep playing the song.”
“Megan told you all of that?” I asked.
“Not directly, no, but any woman could have heard it in Megan’s voice and seen it in her face.” Callan looked up at my face. “So, did you and Martin figure out what you’re going to do when we find this spaceship?”
Before I could answer, a shout rose from a lookout on one of the escort ships.
“Unknown object twenty-three degrees to starboard!”
I looked in that direction and immediately spotted the line of broken trees and churned dirt. It extended over a mile. At its end, the crashed starship lay with its nose buried in the ground. It was a big ship, with at least a hundred and sixty yards of fuselage angling up above the tops of the trees.
A shout rang out from the lookout on board the lead escort. “Tartegian warships dead ahead!”
I turned my gaze toward Tarteg and easily spotted the approaching warships.
“This is not good, David. They outnumber us seven to four.” Martin, far more experienced with airships, assessed the situation before I’d finished counting Tartegian warships.
“Don’t you mean seven to five?” Megan asked. “Did you forget to count the airship you’re riding in?”
“I didn’t forget the Pauline,” Martin replied, “I left her out of the count on purpose.”
“Why?” Megan asked. “This seems like a perfectly fine airship.”
Nist beamed at the compliment to his pride and joy.
“She’s a splendid airship — but she’s not a warship. She has neither weapons nor a contingent of marines,” Martin replied. “If it comes to a fight, Nist will drop David and me on the command ship then take Her Highness and you away from here at top speed.”
Megan bristled. “Is that because we’re women? Are you saying women can’t-”
Callan interrupted the argument, “Nist, I wish to speak with the Tartegian commander. Please raise a white flag and then slowly fly forward.”
Megan glanced at Martin and me, obviously expecting us to voice an objection. When we didn’t say anything, she threw up her hands. “I don’t get it. If you have to fight the Tartegians, you’re going send us away. And it’s all because we’re women and this isn’t a warship. But neither of you have any problems with this same non-warship — protected by nothing but a piece of white cloth — sailing in alone to parlay with those same Tartegians.”
“While our two countries have their differences, Tarteg is a civilized country. Its navy will honor the flag of truce. I doubt their commander is any more anxious for battle than we are.” As I finished speaking, a Tartegian airship raised a white flag and flew to meet us.
“Well, I must say that’s quite a relief!” Megan’s incredulous expression said otherwise. “If it comes to a fight, I’m sure all of those who die will die a happier death knowing their killers followed the rules of war like proper gentlemen!”
“Megan, the rules of war exist to protect the living by avoiding needless conflict and unnecessary loss of life.” Suddenly, Callan turned her icy princess persona on the musician. “Those rules succeed because they insure we can talk to each other safely and without fear!”
“I realize this situation is outside of your experience,” I said, “but you asked to come with us as an observer. Watch in silence or I’ll have one of the guards take you below deck.”
Megan’s eyes blazed at me but she kept quiet.
“Ahoy, Mordanian vessel!” a familiar voice called from the Tartegian airship.
The Tartegian commander was Prince Rupor!
CHAPTER SIX
“Awkward!” Megan sang softly.
Ignoring Megan, Callan called, “Hello, Rupor. How have you been doing?”
“Callan?” Rupor couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “What are you doing out here?”
“The same as you, Rupor. I’m investigating the crashed spaceship.”
“I’m surprised your consort let you come to the unsettled lands,” Rupor said. “Isn’t he afraid you’ll be kidnapped?”
“Point to Rupor,” Megan said under her breath.
“With your step-mother and half-brother in exile,” Callan shot back, “my husband doesn’t believe he has to worry about Tartegian kidnapping plots.”
“Ouch! Two points to Callan,” Megan added.
Callan turned an irritated glare on Megan.
I took the hint, even if Megan appeared oblivious to it. “Guard, take Megan below deck and keep her there until further notice.”
Megan’s protests interrupted Callan’s exchange with Rupor. By the time Megan was out of earshot, the airships were within a few yards of each other.
“You’ve come with an interesting pair of companions, Callan,” Rupor said. “While I can understand traveling with your consort-”
“Husband.”
“-I must admit I’ll be damned if I understand traveling with Bane.” Rupor finished. “Don’t you find it rather ironic that I was deemed unfit to wed you because my relatives contracted for your kidnapping but your actual kidnapper is deemed a fit companion for the very princess he kidnapped?”
“Isn’t it odd how my kidnapper has atoned for his crimes — in rather spectacular fashion, I might add — while your relative, Raoul, remains an extremely irritating thorn in my side?”
The bickering was getting out of hand. I interrupted with a change of subject before the truce failed and fighting broke out. “May I humbly suggest the two of you save the verbal sparring for court, Your Highnesses? People may be injured within the spaceship.”
Callan reddened. “Thank you for reminding me of my duty, darling. David is right, Rupor. We must put aside our differences and decide how our two nations can best respond to the situation at hand.”
“Yes, I suppose he is correct.” Rupor’s gaze swept the entire scene. “May I suggest an approach by a combined party of Mordanians and Tartegians? I believe it is the only viable solution. Your…husband...should be among those selected. He speaks our language and, I assume, the language of those within the spaceship. I prefer not to rely on second-hand reports, so will represent Tarteg myself.”
“I agree with your suggestions, Rupor, but wish to suggest one more member of the party.” Callan placed a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “If he’s willing, I’d like Martin to go along, as well. He
speaks both languages and, like David, can Boost should an emergency arise.”
Rupor thought for a moment. “Our differences aside, Callan, I know you are a sensible woman. I agree to your suggestion. Bane may accompany us.”
Callan turned to Martin. “I realize I’ve put you on the spot, Martin, but will you go with David and Rupor?”
“Try and keep me away,” Martin grinned.
After another round of discussions, Rupor joined us on board the Pauline for the descent. Ten minutes later, the three of us hopped down to the ground.
“Take the ship back up, Nist,” I said. “I don’t know what to expect, but if anything happens, get out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Is there anything I should watch for in particular?” Nist asked.
“Airships falling out of the sky would be a good indicator of trouble,” Martin remarked dryly.
We set off at a slow jog toward the spaceship. Within minutes we were forced to reduce our pace as we scrambled over broken trees and mounds of dirt. It took ten more minutes to reach the crash site. When we came close enough to see details on the ship, Martin stiffened.
I barely avoided crashing into Martin’s back when he stopped. “What’s the problem, Martin?”
“We could be in for some serious trouble, David.” Martin pointed to designs painted on the side of the spaceship. “Those look like pirate markings!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Are you sure?” I asked. I’d been out in the wider galaxy far more recently than Martin had and the designs meant nothing to me.
“My Master Scout and I had a run-in with pirates prior to crashing onto Aashla,” Martin said. “Those markings are similar to the ones used by those pirates.”
“Well, I believe you, Bane,” drawled Rupor. “Vermin always recognize their own kind.”
“You’re not helping, Rupor,” I said. “If Martin is right, we truly are all in serious trouble.”
