by Brad R. Cook
“Afraid to fight me with your sword, I see,” Genevieve smiled. “I thought you were a queen, horseman.”
Zerelda looked at the steel ring embedded in her gun. “If you want die, then I shall be happy to send you to hell.” When she stepped down from her throne, everyone, except Genevieve backed away. Never taking her eyes from Genevieve, the Pirate Queen, took a swordsman’s stance, with her feet slightly wider than her shoulders. Her skirt was bound up in front by a pair of metal clasps. She drew the wicked cutlass from its shark skin sheath. As her blade caught the light, her heeled boot ground into the floor and she lunged at Genevieve.
Genevieve parried Zerelda’s blade and slashed with her own silver saber. Everyone’s attention was fixed on the two swordswomen, but remembering the reason we came, I scanned the room for the horsemen’s heart. The small urn, earthenware bound in iron bands could be anywhere, but knowing Zerelda, she would keep it close.
As Genevieve pressed her attacks and Zerelda twirled to avoid them, I slowly slipped over toward the sky pirate’s throne, scanning the room to make sure no one noticed. At one point, I stopped when Zerelda thrust her cutlass at Genevieve, who dodged the attack. Zerelda followed through with a kick to her stomach, sending Genevieve tumbling across the floor. When she landed by one of the pirates, he kicked her in the back.
Mr. Singh stepped forward, pulled out his double-barrel Katar dagger, cocked the hammer, and aimed it at the pirate. Genevieve stood up, turned. and kicked the man in the knee, then attacked Zerelda again with a flurry of strikes.
The Sky Pirate Queen blocked Genevieve’s saber, but the baron’s daughter pulled back and quickly lunged forward, slicing Zerelda’s shoulder. Zerelda roared and rubbed the blood between her fingers. Genevieve kept her blade aimed at her opponent, as a drop of blood fell to the floor.
I rushed up to Zerelda’s throne. Scanning over the throne, I saw a semi-circular cutout on the left side of the seat. The top of the urn was visible in the recess.
As I reached down to retrieve the urn, Zerelda screeched, “Get away from there!” She charged and thrust her cutlass at my hands.
I drew my hands back as the blade slammed down and dug into the seat. I stumbled back and grabbed my Thumper. Zerelda rushed at me. I sprawled back onto the throne, and the pirate queen aimed her wicked cutlass at me. “Guards surround them, and shoot them if they move!”
“I’d stay right where you are.” Captain Baldarich strolled into the center of the room with his lightning cannon drawn. I looked around Zerelda as he stepped into the light.
One of Zerelda’s pirates cringed and backed away as if seeing a ghost. “That’s … that’s Captain Baldarich of the Sky Raiders.”
Baldarich smiled. “Yes, and as you can see, we have you surrounded.”
“Lies,” Zerelda snarled. “They would have come in guns blazing and my men would have sounded the alarm.”
“We’re not done,” Genevieve said as she stood in front of Zerelda.
“I’m done with all of you.” Zerelda stepped over to throne and sat down. With a wild look in her eyes, she pulled cords on either side of her. .
“Everyone down!” Baldarich grabbed Genevieve and hit the floor.
I dove for the floor as the throne’s cannon armrests spit flames, smoke, and lead. Zerelda wickedly cackled. The air smacked my chest, knocking me from the throne.
Rolling to my side, I saw Zerelda reach into the throne’s recess and grab the urn. I raised my Thumper and fired, but it was difficult to focus and impossible to breathe through the smoke. The concussive blast ripped apart the back of the throne, but missed Zerelda entirely. She spun on her heel and locked eyes with me. Her wicked laugh trailed off toward the back of the room, her curly hair whipping about in the debris and smoke. Once there, she kicked a lever and the wall fell apart. Jumping into the air, she snagged a pole with her arm, and disappeared below.
“Genevieve!” the baron’s voice broke through the groans of everyone in this room. “Genevieve!”
“Here I am.” She still lay with Baldarich on the floor. She rolled over and slowly stood up. “The captain and I are okay.”
“Speak for yourself. I can’t hear a blasted thing.” Baldarich sat up and drew in the cord to pick up his lightening cannon.
My stomach wrenched into a knot and kept me balled up on the floor. Danger. The most intense … since last year. I forced myself to stand and move beyond the pain, and ran to where Zerelda escaped. As I feared, she slid down the pole to the ground far below floor where two Iron Horsemen awaited with black-cloaked riders. Hendrix and Kannard. Hendrix pulled back his hood and set his Stetson upon his brow. Zerelda jumped onto the iron steed behind him, and the colonel looked up and tipped his hat at me.
My father called out through the smoke, “Alexander, where are you?”
I didn’t answer. I was staring down the barrels of the Horseman of War’s cannon, along with the Gatling gun in its chest.
I couldn’t move. Terror anchored me as I stared at the large ballista on the steed of the white Horseman of Disaster. I jumped back. “The Horsemen!”
The remains of the wall behind me exploded. Shards of wood and torn chunks of iron ripped through the room. We all hustled down the stairs and outside. The unrelenting bombardment from the Iron Horsemen brought the crumbling building down around us. The ground shook and tore apart, as the thunderous stomp of the Horsemen of War fractured the valley. What remained of the building exploded and I tumbled across the street.
I heard voices calling out, but they seemed so distant. I crawled slowly through the dusty street. . Captain Baldarich burst through the smoke and rushed up to me. “The Iron Horsemen have disappeared.” I nodded as two camels ran past.
CHAPTER 35
THE TEMPLAR ARMADA
Back onboard the Sparrowhawk, my father set me on a bench at the back of the bridge. He said something to me, but I still couldn’t hear after the blasts of the Iron Horsemen.
The captain sat down in his chair and rubbed his temples. “Heinz, get us out of here and head south.”
Within moments we were rising into the sky. Ignatius walked over to the captain, “Gears says all three engines are in working order and we’ll have full power to take us to southern Africa.”
“Wonderful news.” The captain stretched. “I have Hunter keeping an eye out for our slithering desert friend. .”
Ignatius checked the Arial Tracking Dial. “Captain, the Templar Fleet is north of us. Should we reduce speed to allow them catch up?”
The captain spun in his chair and looked to the baron, who shook his head. Baldarich nodded and turned back to Ignatius. “No, stick with the Milli-train.”
“We need to get to Zululand before the Golden Circle,” the baron added, “Sinclair and the others know our destination.”
“We’ll find the Milli-train and at least slow it down. Even if we don’t find that infernal train, at least we’ll in be in Zululand.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Captain.” The baron headed off the bridge.
Assuming he was leaving to find Genevieve, I waited a few moments and followed. I’d been wondering where Genevieve was and wanted to make sure she was unhurt. He led me to the gun deck, and entered the front room. I sat on one of the cannons and waited. I didn’t want to intrude on their time, so I opened the gunport beside me to look out over the desert. Night had fallen, and the cool evening air whipped around me, chilling me. I didn’t mind. The crispness let me know I was alive. I’d faced death, overwhelming odds, and all three Iron Horsemen riders. It felt good to just sit and breathe cool, clean air.
The door swung open and the baron stormed out of the room, startling me. He nodded, but headed up stairs.
The clatter of falling metal accompanied Genevieve’s “Ow!” I stood up and rushed to the door.
“You okay?” I asked as she appeared in front of me, hobbling on one foot and grumbling beneath her breath. Rodin hovered behind her flapping his wings.
�
�I … yes. It’s nothing, really.” Genevieve limped ahead of me to one of the cannons and sat down, still holding her foot. I knelt in front of her. Rodin landed on and curled up on her shoulder. “I kicked a cannonball with my boot, then the rest of the cannonballs got involved.
“Ouch, but they do tend to gang up.”
She chuckled and let go of her foot. We slipped into an awkward silence. I stood up and sat beside her on the cannon. Rodin uncurled and crawled over to me.
I tapped my foot to force the nervous energy building inside me. I looked over at Genevieve but then turned away. Shifting back to her, I blurted out, “You were amazing today.”
Genevieve looked down, her cheeks turning pink. “Thank you.”
“You fought two duels today … and won.”
“We ran from one, and Zerelda ran from the other,” she said.
“Do you have any cuts on you?”
“No.”
“Under the rule of first blood, you won both duels.”
Genevieve leaned against me. “Thanks, but you and the captain are the only ones who thinks this.”
“Is that why your father stormed out of here just now?”
“He doesn’t want me to fight her.”
I wrapped my arm around Genevieve. She rested her head on my shoulder and Rodin curled up on both of us.
“I’ve enjoyed this adventure with you, Genevieve.”
“Taking me off on adventures,” Genevieve said softly, “seems to be you modus operandi.”
I smiled. “It takes a lot to get you alone.”
“We did get to see the pyramids.”
“And Alexandria.”
The stairs rattled as someone walked down on the gun deck. I snatched my arm from around her and we slid to opposite ends of the cannon so fast we polished it. Ignatius poked his head down and said in his not-quite-western accent, “Gustav cooked up some grub for everyone.”
“We’ll be right up,” I said.
“Ignatius, have we met up with the rest of the fleet?” Genevieve stood up with Rodin now clinging to her shoulder.
“The Imperial airship and its escort fleet will be here soon. The rest of the Templar Air Corp is still to the north.”
Genevieve bowed her head, “Thank you.”
I stood up as Ignatius disappeared up the stairs. Genevieve jumped off the cannon and spun on her heel and faced me. She took my hands in hers, her eyes piercing my soul. “You’re the best for cheering me up.” Then she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me. I wondered—hoped—that what I was feeling, she was feeling, too.
Before heading to the galley, I reached up to pull the lever and close the gunport. That’s when I saw several airships approaching, their lamplights glittering like low-hanging stars drifting on the wind.
“We have company,” I said to Genevieve. “The fleet we traveled with before.”
Looking a bit closer, I saw the Duke’s imperial airship.
I grumbled and yanked the gunport door shut.
CHAPTER 36
ZULULAND
The next morning I awoke with my belly still filled with Gustav’s stew. Lying in my hammock, with Owethu swinging next me, I let one leg dangle over the side and stared up at the ceiling. I saw Rodin’s bed, the one Genevieve and I had made. He wasn’t in it, which wasn’t surprising. He was most likely up in the baron’s cabin with Genevieve.
Although my father snored on the other side of the cloth wall that divided the room, it gave me courage to know he was so close. I wished he believed in me, the way I believed in me. The way Genevieve believed in me. But he was too focused on his work to notice anything about me except when I’m was in trouble. I wondered if Owethu had similar issues with his father.
I would find out what his world was like soon enough.
The day was filled with maintenance issues, checking the lines with Hunter, reinforcing the hull with Ignatius, and helping Gears clean some sprockets. It was good to be part of the crew again.
After finishing my duties, I retreated to the gundeck, staring out one of the ports. The setting sun ignited the African savanna in a spectacular golden light. The magnificent landscape adorned with mountains of rolling grassland, was broken only by patches of shrubbery. We were flying too high for a clear view of the vast herds spread over the terrain, but they dotted the land in the millions.
Owethu, who’d taken a seat on the cannon across from me, had a big smile on his face. “We are almost to my home.”
“I can’t wait.”
“There is much I want to show you; and many people I want you to meet.”
Owethu not only wanted to show me his homeland, but he was excited about it. I didn’t know how he felt, but I was happy to have him as a friend. “Our fathers and the baron have been going on about a big meeting when we land,” I said, “but after that I want to see everything.”
Owethu nodded. We sat in silence staring at the world below, until he saw a river he recognized. Then he became animated. “There. My village is atop the hill.”
I hadn’t known what to expect. I’d heard so many tales of the Dark Continent, but what lay before me was astounding. Clusters of circular huts, if one could call them that, adorned the hill. To use such a small and basic word seemed an insult. All of the elaborately constructed houses were topped with thick brown thatch. The entire village was surrounded with thickets of thorn bushes, like the different areas of London.
As we landed near Owethu’s village, he rushed off to find his father. Not wanting to miss anything, I continued staring out the window as we descended. My father came up behind me and said, “Alexander, we’ll be participating in a welcoming ceremony. Be ready to disembark. I can’t stress enough that you should be on your best behavior.”
I winced at his words. “I know, and I will. You didn’t have to tell me.”
He continued as if he hadn’t heard my words. “I also want you to let the baron and the Templars deal with this. We are not warriors; we are scholars.”
Again, I cringed, but just nodded, which must have been to his satisfaction, because he walked off.
I wrung my hands together trying to force my anger away. I am a warrior. I might be in training, but I’ve tasted victory and defeat. Obviously, my father didn’t consider me a warrior, but what he didn’t realize was that I wasn’t even a scholar.
When Chief Zwelethu stepped off the airship, all the people of his village greeted him like a returning hero. They filled the air with their singing, and the women danced in jubilation. Several of the other chieftains traveled with the king to welcome him back to Zululand. They cheered Owethu with the same intensity. No one at Eton would even raise an eyebrow when I came back.
The other airships landed, and soon the Duke, Lord Sinclair, Eustache, the Tinkerer, and several other Templar airship captains joined us.
We entered through a gate made of wood and tusks, with an immense elephant skull seated at the top of the arch. In the center of the village, large bonfires blazed, lighting up the night and chasing back the cool breeze. Food was brought out and laid before us on earthenware trays and bowls, or on woven straw mats. Unlike the theatres back home, the dancers performed in the midst of us.
I wanted to ask Owethu a thousand questions, but I was trapped between my father and the baron. He sat next to his brother, who was jealous of Owethu’s pith helmet, just as he said he’d be, and who kept asking him about every little detail of his adventure. Owethu’s sisters and his mother sat with several women near Chief Zwelethu.
The Duke sat in the center of our delegation. He even brought a high-backed chair elaborately decorated with a velvet seat. The chair looked as oddly misplaced as did the Duke in his dress uniform.
Richard sat beside the baron and Genevieve. Before he sat down, he acknowledged my father; then, expecting him to have the decency to acknowledge me, I looked up. He looked right past me as if I wasn’t there. He bowed and took Genevieve’s hand and kissed it before sitting down and turning his bac
k to me. Rodin who was sitting on her shoulder stared at Richard, but did not fly over to him like he did to me. The bile in my stomach churned. Normally, I’d be thrilled at his lack of attention, but I burned that I could be so easily dismissed. I tried to concentrate on the dancing, the food, and the conversation between my father and the Duke, but found myself miserably listening whenever Richard spoke to Genevieve.
After dinner, the talk turned to why we had come. Lord Sinclair, the Duke, the baron, Eustache, and Chief Zwelethu spoke with the other elders and airship captains. For once, we were allowed to stay and join in, but only to give our account of the past events.
“We must develop a plan.” Grand Master Sinclair pounded his fist against his palm. “A strategy for dealing once and for all with the Knights of the Golden Circle.”
“How do we even know they are coming here?” the Duke asked.
The baron shook his head at him as if he couldn’t believe he asked the question. “We believe they are after the gold they learned about from the geological surveys conducted in the area by McCafferty.”
I stood up. “Actually, they’re after something far worse.” I didn’t mind being an insolent pup. “They’re after a new heart, for the fourth horsemen … to replace the one Genevieve destroyed last year.”
“Impossible,” the Duke said as he glared at me. Richard let out an audible gasp, but this time I ignored him.
“No it’s true. I had a … we saw the horsemen in the Hidden City of the Sky Pirates.” I didn’t think mentioning this had only been in my dream would sway them.
Everyone looked back and forth at each other, but only I noticed the Zulu woman who sat at the back of the Chief Zwelethu’s entourage. Richly decorated with with beaded necklaces and bracelets. And wrapped in a blue cloth. She leaned on a walking stick, her skin dark and vibrant, but cracked like parched earth. Her gaze chilled me, but I couldn’t look away.
“Do we have the Iron Knights?” the baron asked.
“They are en route,” Sinclair said. “May be two or three days before they arrive with the rest of aircorp.”
