by Rob J. Hayes
“Turlain?”
With a heavy sigh Jacques nodded. The very seat of magic in the known world and the last place he ever wanted to be.
“We still won’t make it there before he catches us, Jacques.”
Jacques gave a weak smile. “We will if he’s looking in the wrong direction. How do you feel about one more last job?”
Chapter 24 – Another One More Last Job
“This is insane,” Isabel said as they walked their recently acquired horses up to the front gate of Frenvale. “It is never going to work.” Nervous was a fair beginning point to explain her current disposition but as a description it only went so far and, in the end, was sadly lacking.
“This is insane,” Jacques conceded. “Which is exactly why it is going to work.” He certainly sounded confident enough. “Nobody would ever attempt such a thing because of how insane it is so nobody will ever expect anyone to attempt such a thing so they won’t expect it. Hence why its insanity is the key element to the success of the entire plan.”
“That is possibly the most impressive circular argument I have ever heard you construct but it is also a pile of merde.”
Jacques had no response to that.
A number of rifles lowered as they approached and Isabel found herself feeling extremely under-armed. It was amazing how quickly she had become accustomed to carrying a pistol at her side.
“Name and business,” the Sergeant of the watch stated as he flipped open a pocket watch to check the time. It was likely they rarely, if ever, received visitors at the dead of night.
“Baron and Baroness Bonvillain,” Jacques stated in his most officious voice. “We need to speak to Captain Cervantes with the utmost urgency.”
The Sergeant looked far from convinced as he flicked his pocket watch closed. “About what?”
Isabel could see the situation desperately needed some authority if the Sergeant was to be convinced. “You are addressing a Baron, soldier,” she said haughtily, “and you will show him the proper respect.”
The Sergeant looked at Isabel for a long moment before nodding. “Could I enquire about the nature of your business with the Captain, Baron?”
“I carry sensitive information by urgent request of Duc Lavouré,” Jacques continued. “The exact nature is to be discussed only with Captain Cervantes but it is in relation to the test flight of The Northern Sunrise tomorrow.”
This gave the Sergeant some pause and the man chewed upon his lip as he considered. It was more than likely that very few people outside of the soldiers in Frenvale and the Duc knew about the airship’s test flight. Isabel knew Jacques had been planning on that little morsel of classified information to lend his wild claim some credence.
“Callé,” the Sergeant barked and one of the rifle-carrying soldiers snapped to attention. “Escort the Baron and Baroness inside. Grinel,” another solider followed suit. “Run ahead and wake the Captain. Apologise for the late hour and inform him that he has guests.”
The Sergeant turned back to Isabel and Jacques and she could tell by the suspicion in his eyes that he was still far from convinced of their authenticity. “I apologise for the earlier impropriety, Baron,” the Sergeant bowed a little. “Baroness,” he bowed again. “If you would like to follow Callé here, he will lead you inside.”
With that the first checkpoint was passed and with a soldier as escort the others were passed with little more than curt nods and polite grumbles. Between the final checkpoint and the main gate of Frenvale both Isabel and Jacques took the opportunity of the covering darkness and the soldier’s unwatchfulness to deposit a number of small packages painted a lively grass green before continuing on through the gate and into Frenvale.
Captain Cervantes looked far from fresh as he stepped out of the building Isabel presumed was a barracks. His hair was tussled from recent sleep, he wore navy blue trousers complete with high leather boots but his chest was only covered with a white doublet, and he rubbed his eyes fiercely as he approached them.
“I’m told you have an urgent message for me from the Duc, Baron,” Cervantes said sparing Isabel an appraising glance but deciding not to comment on either her presence or her attire, which was far less noble lady and far more gentlewoman duellist than was strictly proper. Isabel had decided a change of clothing would likely prove useful as she was unlikely to be attending any more high-to-do affairs during the night and a dress did not entirely lend itself to the purpose of stealing the most heavily-guarded, heavily-armed airship in the Kingdom.
“Yes, indeed I do,” Jacques said taking Cervantes by the arm and steering him towards the docks. “It is regarding the issue of the test flight tomorrow morning.”
Cervantes stopped and gave Jacques a quizzical look. “The Duc told you about that?”
In reality the information had been a scribbled note on a piece of paper Jacques had stolen from the Duc’s study but luckily the Captain did not need to know the truth of how they had come by the information.
“Must I answer that question again?” Jacques asked and continued on towards the docks. “Listen to me, Captain, because time is short and there is still a lot to accomplish and the Duc would like the engineers kept out of it for the sake of his pride.”
“But why did he send you?” the Captain asked. He was clearly still groggy from sleep but his head was clearing rapidly. They needed to convince him before he had chance to engage his full faculties.
“You will not yet have heard,” Isabel stepped in, “but there has been a slight… complication in the capital.”
“A damned travesty,” Jacques added. “A mistake of unequalled incompetence.”
Isabel gave the Captain her very best earnest look. “The Duc has been arrested.”
“What?” the Captain all but shouted and Isabel held up placating hands.
“Please, Captain Cervantes, keep your voice down. The situation is not yet common knowledge and the Duc hopes it will never become so. He is certain the matter will be cleared up soon and his innocence will be proven, but in the meantime he has sent us to you in his stead.”
“What for?” the Captain asked.
“The Northern Sunrise will not fly,” Jacques said in a grave voice. They were approaching the turn that would put the docks in plain sight now.
Cervantes laughed. “I assure you, Baron, she will.”
“Now look here,” Jacques said as he pulled a sheaf of papers out from his jacket pocket. “These are schematics given to me by Gaston himself. Before his,” Jacques coughed, “arrest, the Duc was going over his designs and he came across a flaw, an oversight in his calculations. See here,” Jacques pointed at a section of one of the papers and then flipped through a couple of papers and pointed again. “And here.”
“I’m not,” Cervantes paused and looked to be a little red in the cheeks. “I’m not an engineer, Baron. I don’t see…”
They rounded the corner and both the docks and The Northern Sunrise came into view. They had only an hour or two at most before sunrise and they needed to be ready as their window of opportunity would be brief and was most definitely not repeatable.
“Well I am,” Jacques continued, he was well and truly into the bluff now. “At least of a sorts, certainly not close to the Duc’s level but well-versed enough that he trusted me to come and fix his mistake quietly and without…”
“Common knowledge,” the Captain finished. “You know how to fix the Sunrise?” he asked. “On your own?”
“I need only one other set of hands,” Jacques finished the con. “Which is why I brought my wife. I need you to prepare for your test flight in a few hours.”
“We could postpone,” the Captain suggested.
“Gaston is dead set against it,” Jacques said. “She will be ready, Captain Cervantes. I will make certain of it!”
Captain Cervantes was nodding along now like the good little mark he was. “I’ll station a couple of soldiers outside the ship and make sure they know you have permission to be on boa
rd. If you need me for anything just send one of them to find me. In the meantime I’ll start making my preparations.” The Captain grinned. “You’re certain she’ll fly.”
Jacques clapped the man on the shoulder. “She will, Captain. And you will fly her.”
Preparations, as it happened, were less about fixing the ship and more to do with Jacques giving Isabel a brief introduction to the theory of flying not only an airship but The Northern Sunrise specifically which, he assured her, was far different from any other airship ever designed. Jacques volunteered to take the far more mathematically difficult and labour intensive job of manning the engineering section and making certain the struts that housed the Vinet crystals were sufficiently extended so that the anti-gravity fields did not overlap which would apparently tear the ship apart and result in both of their deaths. Isabel very much wished not to experience her own death quite yet so allowed Jacques the more difficult job and secretly hoped he actually knew what he was doing. She was not entirely confident.
There was one brief engineering issue that they had to attend to which was a hastily designed and even more hastily constructed steering lock that would set the airship on course and freeze out the controls. This piece of apparatus was essential to the plan as Jacques and Isabel had no intention of still being on board the airship when the navy caught up to it, and they would eventually catch up to it. They would set The Northern Sunrise on a course towards the Arkland border and depart a good hundred miles out of Frenvale, there they would purchase transport back to Rares and find an airship willing to take them to Great Turlain, preferably with no questions asked. By the time Seigneur Daron realised where they might have fled to they would be well and truly out of his reach. They would also be flat broke but re-establishing their fortune was the cost of surviving their current situation. It would also be fun.
“The struts shouldn’t need adjusting at all until we are about four hundred feet up,” Jacques said looking over the papers he had stolen from the Duc’s study. “I’ll stay here with you until then and make my way down into engineering to prevent our untimely demise.”
“Why do we not simply stay below four hundred feet?” asked Isabel.
“Most navy airships are not designed for air to air combat,” Jacques explained as he moved over to the navigation charts. “To fire upon us they would need to be positioned above us by quite some way and I would prefer they did not have the option.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Isabel admitted.
“Here,” Jacques said pointing at one of the charts. “That’s where we’ll depart.”
He was pointing to a forested spot of map near lac de la Caché which was also only a few dozen miles from the town of Belousé. From there they could arrange the transport they needed and be well away from Sassaille before the Seigneur even realised they were no longer aboard The Northern Sunrise.
Isabel nodded and looked over at Jacques who was giving her a smile she recognised well. It was the smile he always gave her just before telling her he loved her.
“I love you, Jacques Revou,” Isabel said quickly before he could say it.
“And I you, Isabel de Rosier.”
By dawn a light winter mist had formed in the valley that sheltered Frenvale. It was quickly turning from a warm winter night into a chilly winter day and the sun was just beginning to rise over the eastern horizon. Jacques watched the light spreading forth towards them as the sun crested the rise in the distance and with it a slight respite from the chill. He bit his lip and hoped their little night-time deposits would work.
“Five minutes,” he said to Isabel who only nodded in response. She knew the exact start up sequence for the airship, Jacques had been over it ten times, and now she simply waited for the signal.
Jacques flipped open his pocket watch and watched the seconds tick away. Their deposits were painted green like the grass they were dropped upon and the light mist should do enough to obscure their slightly off-colour appearance. Certainly if they had been found during the night someone would have put two and two together and come up with an arrest warrant for the Baron and Baroness Bonvillain.
Isabel’s hand hovered over the first ignition switch.
“Not yet,” Jacques warned her. “We need the soldiers running the other way before we attempt to take off.”
“I know,” she said testily. He had known her long enough to know she was feeling nervous and rightly so. He was nervous also, filled with equal parts dread and anticipation.
He counted five minutes on his pocket watch. Isabel glanced his way and Jacques cleared his throat. “These things are never exact, there’s always room for some interpretation of the mixture which could, concieveably, cause the fuse…”
The sound of a distant thunderclap echoed throughout the shipyard, followed by another and another and another and then three more.
“Give it another minute or so,” Jacques said.
The deposits were little more than Whistlebang with a light receptive fuse. The rising sun had set the fuses to light and the Whistlebang, while being more noise than actual explosion, was enough of a commotion to set off the real distraction he had planned.
By now every automaton within sight of the small explosions, and by Jacuqes reckoning that was at least ten, would be coming to clockwork-powered life and trampling the ground between Frenvale and the final checkpoint looking for the threat. More importantly, the automatons were unrepentantly violent when roused and an absolute terror to calm back down again. The soldiers of the base would be unsure whether or not they were actually under attack and every pair of eyes would be fixed upon the main gate.
Jacques risked a look out the window just in time to see the two soldiers positioned to guard The Northern Sunrise run off in search of the apparent attack. With a grin he turned back to Isabel. “Now. Let us see if she can actually fly.”
“There was doubt?” Isabel asked in a high voice as she started flicking switches.
An electrical hum filled the air as the airship came to life and Jacques could just about hear the thrusters’ ignition flames spark to life. Isabel held onto the controls of the airship with a rictus expression of one part determination to two parts concentration. Jacques looked out of the starboard window to see the lake rippling away from the airship in great waves as the anti-gravity field pushed against the water.
“Ease up the altitude,” Jacques suggested.
Isabel threw the altitude lever forwards and a moment later the airship lurched upwards. Jacques felt the strange sensation of being pushed downwards for a moment before his senses adjusted to the feeling.
“A bit faster than I had intended,” Jacques said, a note of panic he couldn’t quite control in his voice.
“Sorry,” Isabel said. “I figured a faster getaway was more important. Besides, if she didn’t fly we were dead either way.”
Jacques let out a high laugh, not entirely certain he agreed. He could see the scenery sinking away beneath them as the airship rose out of lac Fren and the sound of the electricity coursing through the ship and powering the Vinet crystals was a reassuring and exciting music in his ears.
“Bring her around to point two hundred and forty eight and keep the altitude rising, then slowly engage the thrusters and I suppose we will see just how fast this Northern Sunrise can travel.”
Isabel followed his instructions, thankfully, to the letter and as the thrusters engaged Jacques could feel the airship shaking beneath him as she fought against inertia. In just a few moments she was moving steadily along and he could actually hear the roar of her engines.
“Keep her going,” Jacques said. “Try to increase the speed a little at a time. I will be back in just a moment.”
“Where are you going?” Isabel asked without looking, clearly she was unwilling to take her eyes from the console in front of her.
“To make certain our distraction is working,” Jacques said with a smile.
After all his life of looking up at airships and dream
ing, he was finally going to stand tall on one and look down upon the world.
Jacques didn’t go far, he did not want to leave Isabel alone at the controls for too long so early into her piloting career. He opened the door to the cockpit, descended the four steps to the foredeck, crossed the fifteen feet to the nearest railing and looked down upon Frenvale. What he saw was chaos, the fruits of his frenzied improvisational planning. His Whistlebang packets hadn’t just awoken ten automatons or even twenty. From his rapidly increasing vantage point Jacques could see much of the wall that ran around Frenvale and it very much appeared as though every automaton the naval base possessed had awoken and was busy stomping around the first checkpoint looking for enemies. Jacques could just about make out the shapes of soldiers from his height and, while many were attempting to calm the rampaging golems, a few had noticed the stolen airship and appeared to be pointing their way.
In a brief moment of childish fancy Jacques waved down towards the soldiers below. A few moments later the report of a gunshot reached his ears. He was of course far too high up for any small arms fire to reach him now but even so he ducked away from the railing and headed back inside to check on Isabel.
“How is our distraction faring?” Isabel asked as Jacques shut the door behind him and crossed to stand next to her, staring out at the fore window to see a cloudy winter sky before them.
“Well it is probably safe to say Baron and Baroness Bonvillain will go down in history not only as the first people to ever steal an airship but also as the people to launch the largest attack Frenvale has ever seen. Honestly, anyone would think we had laid siege to the place.”
Isabel favoured him with a glance and an excited smile. “How long before they manage to mount any sort of pursuit?”
“A while, I would imagine. It appeared quite chaotic down there.”
“I do hope there’s no loss of life,” Isabel said, sobering instantly.
Jacques attempted to swallow but found his throat very dry all of a sudden. “You know I actually hadn’t thought about that.”
