From Haven to Hell

by Rebecca Diem

  Tales of the Captain Duke

  From Haven to Hell

  By Rebecca Diem

  WOOLF LIKE ME

  Publishing

  Text copyright © 2015 Rebecca Diem

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art by Sarah Dier-McComb

  Cover design by Steve Armstrong

  First Edition

  Woolf Like Me Publishing

  ISBN: 978-0-9938874-3-7

  To the winds, to the clouds, to a life lived well,

  Take me up to the sky!

  To the heavens above and the land far below,

  Pilot, keep to the sky!

  To the sun on your face and the stars in your eyes,

  Captain! Give me the sky!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: In which our pilots attack their own 6

  Chapter 2: In which our hero confronts a traitor 11

  Chapter 3: In which our heroine explores her new home 19

  Chapter 4: In which our hero speaks of gunpowder, treason and plot 24

  Chapter 5: In which our heroine stops running 31

  Chapter 6: In which our hero makes no allies 38

  Chapter 7: In which our heroine hears a song of the past 44

  Chapter 8: In which our heroine befriends a spider 50

  Chapter 9: In which our heroine duels with duality 59

  Chapter 10: In which our heroine speaks for herself 63

  Chapter 11: In which our hero attempts a diplomatic resolution 67

  Chapter 12: In which our pilots pass the point of no return 71

  Chapter 13: In which our hero faces an unthinkable prospect 73

  Chapter 14: In which our heroine reaches the Haven’s end 76

  Preview: A Gentleman and a Scholar 81

  Author’s Note 85

  Acknowledgements 87

  Chapter 1: In which our pilots attack their own

  It was a fine, cloudless day. A terrible day to mount an attack from the skies. But the weather could not be helped, and the Captain Duke and his crew could not delay this dreaded moment any longer. Clara’s knuckles were bone white as she clutched the railing of the airship. The land below was lush and green, with rolling hills bending into the distance, shrouded in the early morning mists. A ribbon of river could be glimpsed curving through the trees. The Lake District had always been known for its natural beauty, and now the forests and streams nestled in the valleys between the fells could be viewed in all their glory from above. Clara wished she could enjoy the scene at her leisure, but regrettably, the circumstances of their visit prohibited such sentiment. The airship was battle-ready, with armed gliders prepared to leap at a moment’s notice from the bow and stern. Soon they would reach the Haven, and the battle would begin.

  The Captain Duke approached to stand beside her. Lost in her thoughts, she nearly jumped out of her skin as he rested a hand on her arm and pointed to steer her gaze.

  “Over there, beyond those cliffs. The Haven is on an island in the Derwentwater, we’ll see it soon.” He looked at her with concern, “Will you be alright?”

  “Yes. Just a few nerves. Tell me more. What is it like, the Haven?”

  Clara was rewarded with a smile as he leaned back against the rail.

  “It’s an old manor house. The only one on the isle. There’s thick forest on three sides with a clearing to the north for the port and cargo loaders. I found it years ago with Trick when we were looking for a place to hide out from a storm. We fixed it up, made peace with the local townsfolk. We made it into a haven. The Haven. Our home.” He sighed, “I planned its defenses myself, and now I must exploit its weaknesses.”

  “Is it absolutely certain that we should expect trouble? Is there any chance that the Haven is not compromised?”

  The Captain Duke stared far into the distance, gripping the railing. “A small chance, but it is not a risk we can afford. Robbie may be one of my officers, but he handpicked his crew to fly ahead. He led us into a trap.”

  Clara took in the view, going over the battle plan again in her mind. Hardly a week had passed since a simple raid had turned into a perilous standoff between the Captain Duke’s pilots and a full complement of Tradist soldiers. She had managed to save them all by turning to the embellishments of her former life as a debutante, dressing as a highborn lady and persuading the sergeant to believe it was simply a misunderstanding. Despite the favourable ending, the incident was not without its costs. Robbie had sent them to attack that ship, and now he would answer for his betrayal.

  “There. Do you see it?” he asked, leaning forward over the rail.

  The Captain Duke was tense, his brow creased with worry. And yet, Clara could see his longing, his anticipation to see his home. She said nothing, but gently laid a hand over his as the island came into view. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest and she took a deep breath as the Derwentwater spread itself before them in all its splendour. The small isle in their path was charming to behold, the natural elevation according it a dramatic flair as it rose above the deep blue waves.

  “You should go below,” he said after a moment. “Nessa will be attempting her escape.”

  Clara couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face, but was reassured by his matching smile. She squeezed his hand, “There’s still hope.”

  The Captain Duke’s smile faded and he grew serious once more.

  “Tend to Nessa. She needs your care.”

  Clara wished that she could ease his fears. He stood before her with his hair unbound, fiery waves that were swept across his shoulders by the wind. She fought an urge to tuck one of the bright strands behind his ear and tell him everything would turn out fine. Instead, she gave a curt nod, and after one final look at the scene before her, Clara descended to the cabins below.

  Opening the door, Clara discovered her patient had indeed escaped the bed. Nessa was leaning against the wall, clutching the edge of the windowpane that faced the isle.

  “Oh, Nessa. Not on my watch. Back to bed.”

  “Cruel mistress, let me get a glimpse of my Haven, my home.”

  Clara smiled at the melodramatics. Nessa’s jovial mood was a great improvement over the pale and silent woman that had terrified them only days before. Nessa had a large, ugly welt on the side of her head from being struck during the bungled raid. Even a fighter such as Nessa could not hold against those odds. The captain of the other airship had knocked her unconscious with a blow to the temple and Clara had feared the worst. Mercifully, Nessa was recovering from the ordeal, but it would be awhile before the piratess was battle-ready once more.

  When Nessa first woke, groggy and confused, she had nearly knocked herself out again trying to fight her way out of the medic’s quarters. Clara was moved to tears by her friend’s frantic struggles as she screamed and swore vengeance on any and all that brought harm to her crew. Only Trick had been able to calm her, whispering in her ear and stroking her hair as the others held her still. Now that the danger had passed, Clara was tasked with keeping her abed. The assignment was proving to be a difficult one.

  “Why are we spinning?” Nessa groaned after Clara helped her back to the cot and tucked her in. She sank back into the pillows, clutching at the bandages wrapped around her head. Clara prepared a fresh cloth and brought it over to her bedside.

  “We’re not spinning, you are. Now lie still, Nurse Susan said you were concussed. You need to rest.” Nessa lay still and allowed Clara to spread the cool cloth across her forehead. It would be at least another week before the dizzy spells would fade completely.

  “Are you sure this is doing any good? Doesn’t she have some concoction to make this spell go away?”

  “The cloth is for your comfort. Rest is what your head needs to hea
l. The bruises are fading at least; they look much better today.”

  “Liar,” Nessa muttered.

  Clara smiled, but did not deny it. In truth, the deep purple bruising that blossomed the day after the raid had turned to an ugly, mottled yellow. Still, she was looking much improved since gaining consciousness only six days earlier. Nessa fussed with her covers and reached down to check her pistols. She caught Clara’s glance.

  “I just like to be prepared, that’s all.”

  “Nessa, in your current state I am likely a better shot than you.”

  “We’ll start your training at the Haven. I’ll make a decent pilot out of you yet.”

  At that moment, hollers from above announced their impending arrival. Clara ran to a porthole to peer out at the island below. She watched the gliders launch themselves from the airship and disappear into the distance.

  “Tell me what’s happening. Tell me everything,” called Nessa from the bed.

  “The gliders are circling. They’re dropping the powders. I can see blue smoke through the trees.”

  “Ah, Madge’s smoke bombs. A good choice, that will leave them scrambling.”

  Clara shifted, craning for a better view, “I can—I think I can see it. We’re getting close, I can see the tops of the gables but the smoke is too thick. How will we land in this?”

  “The smoke is heavy; it will settle and spread out soon enough. It’s enough to confuse a man, but the airship will be able to navigate above.”

  “Yes, you’re right. It’s getting clearer now.” Clara pressed her nose against the pane of glass, “They’re descending the ropes!”

  She could just barely make out the figures as the pilots rappelled down the side of the airship before using a system of ropes and knots to quickly lower themselves to the ground. They disappeared into the smoke below. All she could see was swirling blue clouds and tree tops at first, then the upper floor of the manor came into view.

  The exterior was old and crumbling, but the Haven retained its former grandeur. Two large wings flanked the main house, complete with gabled windows. Clara could see at least six chimneys, and large pane-glass windows hinted at a ballroom or observatory in the southern wing. More of its features were revealed, window by window, floor by floor. It was a surreal sight, a crumbling palace rising up from cobalt blue fog.

  As the smoke dissipated, she caught sight of Anderssen, the tallest of the Captain Duke’s pilots. His bald head shone with perspiration as he struggled with another man. Soon she spotted the Captain Duke at the Haven’s entrance. He threw a half-dressed man down the front stairway, shouting something indiscernible. The pilot Madge appeared out of the mists and threw down another pouch from the collection tied about her waist, clearing the air in a large radius around her. More pilots emerged from the smoke, some hauling their compatriots and forcing them to sit in a row.

  “I think they’ve rounded them up. Is it safe now? Is it over?”

  Nessa let out a deep breath but her anxiety was apparent, “We should be down there for this.”

  Just then, Cat bounded into the room. She too had been forced to watch from above. The teenaged girl and her younger brother, Mouse, were not yet allowed to join in the battles, though they had spent their lives on airships and their knowledge likely surpassed that of every member of the crew save for the Captain Duke and his officers, Trick and Nessa.

  “Trick gave the signal, we’re going to dock the airship.”

  Clara and Nessa exchanged a look.

  “Well, ready to see your new home away from home?” said Nessa, attempting to stand before sitting back heavily on the bed.

  “Nessa, perhaps you should stay here and rest.”

  It only took one glare for Clara to gather a compress and fix Nessa’s bandages before buckling her father’s ancient dueling pistols around her waist and heading to the top deck to assist. The ropes and gears were familiar to her now, but she had never actually docked an airship before. The other pilots moved around the ship with ease, going from one duty to the next in a familiar dance as the airship slowly sank towards the earth. She followed Trick’s instructions as he manoeuvered into position, climbing over the starboard side to a rope ladder. When she reached the end, she swung back and forth until she could jump on to the dock. She pulled on the ropes and lashed the end of the ladder to the heavy beams, creating a bridge as the galley floated down to her level. More ropes were thrown down to pilots waiting below and they secured the airship on all sides. The vessel was sheltered from changeable winds by the nearby cliffs and tall trees and was bobbing gently in the breeze as Trick helped Nessa cross to the port, followed by Cat and Mouse.

  The airship was docked in a large clearing north of the Haven with tall ports arranged around a curved stair. Three other ships were already docked, tethered to the ground with large iron rings embedded deep within the earth. Two were smaller models, one made of lightweight wood and another with bright brass finishings that gleamed in the light; but Clara recognized the third. It was the merchant vessel she’d run away on. She laughed at the sight of it, recalling the surprise of Nessa and Trick when they had found her hiding in the cargo hold. Barely a moon’s turn later and it felt like a lifetime ago. She remembered sitting crouched behind the crates, armed with only a crowbar as the pirates took the ship. She remembered how her heart had nearly leapt from her chest as she revealed herself to Trick and Nessa. She remembered her first sight of the Captain Duke and how she had talked her way into joining his crew. Thanks to the merchant captain’s scheming, Trick and Nessa had nearly killed them all. If Clara hadn’t been snooping, they may never have discovered that the hold was packed to the brim with gunpowder instead of the far less incendiary grain they were expecting.

  “You’ve come a long way, Clara, my dear,” said Trick, grinning from ear to ear as they joined her.

  “Quite. Whatever became of all that gunpowder?” she asked.

  “I imagine it’s still aboard. Safer up here, away from the Haven.”

  “Ah, yes.” Clara viewed the airship with apprehension, wiping her palms against her borrowed trousers.

  “Never fear, my dear. First we’ll deal with Robbie, then the Captain will decide how best to rid ourselves of our combustible cargo.”

  Satisfied, Clara took Nessa’s other arm. She had no idea what they would encounter below, but she was beginning to take an odd comfort in the unknown. Her unexpected adventure had proven to be quite beyond her imagination.

  Chapter 2: In which our hero confronts a traitor

  The Captain Duke was very nearly trembling from the adrenaline in his veins. It had been a brief skirmish, but he was certain there must be more to the situation than what he could observe. Most of Robbie’s crew surrendered as soon as they realised they were defending the Haven from their own. Many were nursing sore heads from being knocked about, but he guessed that much of their discomfort was due to the effects of late night revelry. He made a note to thank Trick for timing their arrival with the dawn.

  He glared at the man who sat, bound and gagged, in front of the Haven’s steps. Robbie was half-dressed and red-eyed, his pale hair hanging limp and tangled around his face. It was clear that he had woken mid-attack. The Captain Duke had found him stumbling down the hall. If he was not already furious over the circumstances of the failed raid, he would be feeling positively lethal over the lack of defenses.

  It was almost like a scene from a faerie tale of old with the wisps of blue smoke dissipating at the treeline, stirred into clouds as the remainder of his crew joined them, Cat and Mouse leading the way. Cat’s expression was serious, still a child but beyond her years in wisdom. Her younger brother had all the innocence of youth, bounding ahead with an ever-present smile, until a stern comment from Cat made him pause to wait for the others to catch up. Trick, a head shorter than his companions, was doing his best to support Nessa with assistance from Clara. At the sight of them, Robbie struggled to speak through his gag, observing Nessa with some distre
ss.

  “Quiet. You will have ample opportunity to speak soon enough.”

  When all the pilots had gathered, he gestured to Anderssen to unbind the gag. Robbie wiped the spittle from his mouth on one shoulder.

  “What happened?” he croaked. He looked up at the assembly, as though searching for some clue, “Captain, please. Tell me what has transpired.”

  “I think you know.”

  Robbie prostrated himself before them, “Truly, I do not. Please, Captain, I swear it. I don’t know what you have heard but it has clearly put my loyalty in question. What is the cause of this? Who injured Nessa?”

  The Captain Duke remained silent as he watched the blonde man’s discomfort. His crew shifted from foot to foot, faces lined with tension and fingers twitching towards their own weapons.

  “Captain,” Robbie said as he struggled to one knee. He bowed his head, “I know not what I have done to merit such distrust. My life, as always, is in your hands. If I have wronged you, please tell me what I must do as restitution.”

  “Quit the dramatics, Robbie,” said Nessa, as she moved to stand nearer. Clara stayed by her side, supporting her. Nessa’s voice was tight and edged in shades of explosive rage, “That shipment you led us to, it was guarded by a full complement of bloody soldiers. We barely escaped with our lives.”

  The Captain felt an electric current run down his spine at the memory of the moment he saw his friend fall on the decks, his fear that she was lost.

  Robbie had sat down again in apparent shock, “Impossible! My sources said–”

  “You doubt me?”

  “No, Nessa! I– please, sir, let me get to the bottom of this. I swear I will. I had no idea.”

  “Enough,” said the Captain Duke.

  Despite her concussion, Nessa was near to tearing the man’s head off. Robbie switched tactics, turning to face the Captain Duke with a look of penitence.