From Haven to Hell

by Rebecca Diem

  Clara was charmed by her new home, from the small green apples growing in the orchard and the blue waves lapping at the shores of their oasis, to the myriad of rooms filled with curiosities from around the world. They first ascended a hidden stairwell to the top of the gable that was Cat’s home. It was a cozy little space, filled with personal treasures that she was eager to show. A blue flower of blown glass sat amidst jewelry and other baubles. A small book of poetry with exquisite binding was laid atop a messy pile of books. A woven plaid blanket covered the narrow bed, topped with a well-loved doll. And naturally, amidst these facets of girlhood, there was also an impressive display of weaponry. Swords hung neatly on the wall, a few pistols and gleaming blades. It amused Clara to note the care that was taken to clean and store these items in comparison to the mess of clothes spilling out of a trunk in the corner. Cat was certain to grow into an interesting sort of woman, the likes of which had yet to be seen by this world.

  Then Cat dashed over to her window and climbed out, beckoning Clara to follow. Swallowing uncertainty, she followed the girl out onto shaky tiles to stand at the apex of the roof, clinging to the iron work. The view was spectacular. The hills of the Derwentwater curved around them, just visible above the trees. In the far distance they could just catch a glimpse of the tiny specks of airships travelling the trade routes on the way north to Scotland. Cat told her tale after tale of their exploits and close escapes.

  “But what of the local residents? Surely they must know of this place by now?”

  “Oh, of course. But we never attack the routes near our home, and Captain has made arrangements with the merchants of Keswick in exchange for their loyalty and protection. It’s important to make good allies. That’s what Captain and Trick say.”

  As Clara listened, the young pilot grew in her estimation. Her age had little effect on her wealth of experience. She was a clever girl, quick to learn and always drawing lessons from her environment, watching those she admired with an intense focus. In many ways she was already an adult, and yet she managed to retain a youthful delight about her world. She was a survivor. Clara wondered if someday she might learn more about the tragedy that set her and her brother on this course, but thought it best to let Cat decide when to confide in her.

  Returning inside, they made their way through the manor. The kitchens were spacious and friendly. Cook and Peg were bustling about, happy to prepare food with a real stove. The dining hall was large, rows of tables lined the walls, with a larger table on the dais at the head of the room. There was a parlour that had been repurposed as a lounge for darts and other amusements, a pantry turned into weapons storage, a gallery filled with portraits of nameless strangers from long forgotten eras, and an endless number of rooms adapted to the purposes of a transient pirate crew. It amused Clara to be surrounded by such familiar trappings made unfamiliar in their new incarnation. She felt embraced by the manor’s strange duality.

  Cat saved her favourite room for last, pushing through a grand set of double doors to reveal a large ballroom. The midday light slanted through windows that stretched up into the second storey, illuminating the inlaid design of the parquet floors and the faded artwork that graced the walls. Dust motes danced to an invisible orchestra. The fearsome Cat transformed into a young girl once more, twirling to the center of the room and tumbling to stretch out on the sunlit floor.

  “One day we’re going to have a ball in here, and everyone will dance. We’ll have fiddles and flutes and everything Trick can find to play and it will be a party like none have seen before, and everyone will come from far and wide to visit.”

  Clara came to sit in the patch of light beside her friend. “It sounds lovely. But these things are best when shared with friends, not strangers.”

  “Have you been to a ball?”

  She sighed, “Yes. A number of them.”

  “What was it like? Did you wear a beautiful dress and dance all night? Did they have those tiny sparkling glasses? Who played the music?”

  She smiled at the young girl’s curiosity.

  “Well…” she started before frowning.

  How could she explain to Cat the joy and wonder of that first ball without mention of the ugliness that followed as consequence. She too had waited, breathless with anticipation, for her first ball. She too had spent weeks preparing and practicing, a model student for her etiquette instructor Miss Ellington for perhaps the first time in her life. A new gown for the occasion, hair curled into delicate ringlets, her father beaming as he escorted her down the staircase. Even then his arm had been frail beneath her hand, and she cherished the memory of dancing with him. Her dance card was filled with young gentlemen from the best families on the Isle of Wight, many of whom she remembered playing with as a child. And one charming, raven-haired man had stood out from the rest. Clara shuddered at the thought of the course her life might have taken, and rolled onto her side to look at Cat.

  “I think a ball here at the Haven would be far superior to any that I have attended,” she said, turning her mind from the matter.

  The two stayed in the grand hall until the bell rang for the midday meal, dreaming up plans and giggling at the images they conjured of their formidable crew in pearls and tails. Clara lingered on the thought of the Captain Duke dressed in finery and wondered which of the rumours held any truth about his upbringing. Perhaps he had attended his share of balls as well. She dusted off her clothes and went to fetch a tray for Nessa while Cat bounded ahead, a stomach on two legs whenever there was food. She thought that balls belonged to the past she had left behind, but who knew what her future might hold?

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

  The Captain woke from an uneasy slumber. The first day had been a tense affair. He watched the assembled pilots, sharing stories as they caught up on the events of the past few weeks. To all but the closest observer, there was no discernible resentment for the attack earlier in the day. The mercenary nature of the pirates’ work meant they tended to be quick to forgive, but rarely forgot a slight. But the Captain could see the tight smiles that did not reach the eyes, laughter that was too loud and long, and a stiffness to their engagements that was not there before. He would need to be cautious. He needed to ensure there were no traitors among his crew to jeopardize future raids; the safety of his pilots was paramount. The Captain had reached out to a trusted few earlier in the day, requesting that they keep their ears open for any signs of dissent. He sent word around that they would rest at the Haven while Nessa recovered, but truly he wanted time to sort out the mess created by Robbie and discover the loyalties of his men. One bad apple could turn the barrel.

  He ate a small breakfast in the kitchen as the cooks prepared for the day’s meals. He would visit the town today for fresh supplies. It seemed that most of Robbie’s time had been spent drinking and carousing. After touring the storerooms and checking in with Trick, he had a long list of needed items.

  The Captain took a tray of food for Nessa on his way up to ask what she required from the town. Clara answered his knock.

  “Oh! Good morning, Captain.”

  “Ah, Clara, good morning. Is Nessa awake?”

  “I am. Come in, that smells delicious,” Nessa called from her bed.

  “Feeling better today?”

  “The solid ground is doing my head well. You were right, Captain. It will be good to rest a little. But you should fly out sooner than later, do not delay on my account.”

  “Nonsense. It suits my purpose for us to remain here for the week. We need to assess the situation before we proceed.”

  She sighed, folding her arms, “I wish I could be of more help.”

  “You can begin by adding to our list. I’ll be making a trip to the town today.”

  Nessa perused the list, commenting on this and that and adding her own notes as Clara busied herself about the room.

  “I’ll need a new set of trousers if you don’t mind stopping in to see Mrs. Cottin
gham. She has my measurements.”

  “Indeed. I’m of a mind to take Cat and Mouse to see her. The pair of them are growing like weeds,” said the Captain. He turned to Clara, “Will you join us? I thought we could discuss that idea of yours.”

  “Oh, yes!” Nessa’s eyes twinkled, “Clara, go with them. You could use some new clothes. You can’t very well wear my hand-me-downs forever.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind at all,” Clara protested.

  “Please, how many times have you rolled up the hem on those? You need something to fit you properly for gliding. And if we’re to pull off that scheme of yours, pretending to be inspectors, you’ll need an outfit to go along with the ruse.”

  “Well, if it isn’t any trouble…”

  “I insist,” said the Captain.

  The Captain Duke didn’t mind the excuse to spend more time in her company, though Anderssen and a few of the cook’s assistants would be joining them as well. With a mock bow he left Clara to gather her things and meet them in the clearing while he sought out the children.

  The group took one of the smaller airships to town, the Zephyr. It was a sleek brass vessel with an air of respectability, a balloon of deep midnight, and a brand new gyrometric steering system. The Captain Duke’s second favourite, after his own of course. He enjoyed airships like this one, with all their cogs and gears exposed. It was a wondrous thing to see the mechanics of the flight out where one and all could see their function; he much preferred these more recent designs. Easier to maintain, and better for a pirate’s purpose to customize to one’s liking. It was a good size, but could not hold a full complement of his crew and cargo, so the Zephyr was mostly used for shorter trips and covert missions.

  Anderssen stood tall at the stern, watching for signs of trouble. The Captain Duke could see how well the crew regarded the tall, quiet pilot, and was considering him to replace the disgraced Robbie as an officer. Cat and Mouse had the run of the Zephyr and were currently perched high above in some rigging. Not for the first time did he wonder whether the two siblings had ever indeed spent significant time on the ground during their young lives. Clara joined him at the bow to discuss her idea to trick the Tradist merchants out of their goods.

  “We’ll need a better idea of the spoilage ratios for different goods to avoid raising suspicion. And examples of receipts. We can make our own. Of course they’ll be incredibly beneficial to our own recordkeeping as well.”

  “I believe I have some books on the subject if you wish to study the matter further. They’re in my study at the Haven,” he said, laughing at how the suggestion made her brown eyes crinkle with delight. “One would think you were a bluestocking, not a reformed debutante.”

  “I’m learning I can be all of many things. A lady and a hellcat, Nessa says. Might as well add bluestocking to the mix. Soon I’ll have as many identities as you.”

  “You’re in good company.”

  Clara smiled at that before continuing to outline her plan, “So, I think we should have a central command structure and break into smaller teams to cover the ports in one area at a time. An inspector, a guard and two porters, perhaps. Enough to be legitimate but small enough to disappear if things go sideways…”

  The Captain Duke listened, interjecting only when necessary. Something new and unexpected was exactly what the situation called for. It gave him hope that his crew could find a way out of their troubles and thrive.

  They docked the Zephyr at the small port on the north shore of the Derwentshire, coming in low to tether it to one of the spokes. Keswick’s tower had only one layer of docks; the bulk of the trading vessels still favoured the main routes along the coasts. Old habits, the Captain Duke supposed, but the inland towns were beginning to grow and flourish with the increased access provided by the advances in travel and shipment by air. Its mark could be seen on Keswick itself, with new mechanical cabs to transport goods about town, great-geared bicycles rode by men and women alike, and small turbines on most of the houses to generate light. The merchants were selling wares from disparate places, things the elders of the town had only dreamed of seeing in their lifetimes. Children played with clockwork toys, flocking like sparrows as they chased wind-up gliders through the streets. A tidy, pleasant town.

  As they set off walking the familiar streets, each to their own task, his spirits lifted. Much of the progress was due to the patronage of the Captain Duke and his crew. It was good to see the effects of their work so apparent, to see a town flourish as it returned to prosperity. Cat and Mouse were busy pointing out all their favourite shops to Clara. All who saw them tipped their hats in greeting. Many times their progress was halted by the need to exchange news and good mornings with the townsfolk. The Captain Duke made sure to ask after family members by name and ensure that he was up to date on the affairs of the town. It was good policy to remain on friendly terms with those he relied on for their loyalty and protection, but it was an easy affair among such genuinely pleasant people.

  They made their way to the clothier’s shop just off the main street. The dressmaker, Mrs. Cottingham, looked up as they entered, and clapped her hands in surprise.

  “Bless me! If it isn’t the dear Captain Duke! And Cat! And Mouse! Goodness, Molly, just look at how our wee pilots have grown.” She gestured to her assistant, “Come now, dears, Molly will take your measure.”

  The Captain Duke introduced Clara and explained their needs. Mouse begged to go first so he could accompany the Captain on his errands.

  “We’ll need at least one set for the inspector’s uniform. That design I shall leave to your judgement. And two more sets for daily use.”

  Clara pulled him aside, “Captain, I—I have a matter of delicacy to discuss.”

  He raised an eyebrow, but listened.

  “I have some coin on me, but—but I must confess, I have never handled it in a store,” she blushed.

  He struggled to maintain his composure. Laughter would not help matters one bit in this instance. It was not customary for any person of stature to handle their own finances, let alone a young lady of good breeding. It was all done by accounts sent around monthly to the houses, or by one’s staff.

  “Really, Clara. It is no matter. Of course we have an account for the Haven here.”

  “Please, I have my own funds. I would prefer it.”

  He considered the merit in arguing with her and grinned.

  “Your services have proven very valuable to our crew. Please consider this a gesture of thanks,” he said, placing a hand at the small of her back. He enjoyed the way her breath caught at his touch. “You have my earned my gratitude, Clara. Take advantage of it.”

  Mouse only had to be reprimanded for fidgeting twice as he stood and endured the measurements. The seamstress was rewarded with a wide smile when she finished her work.

  “Off with you now. Good lad,” Molly said as she patted him on his head. Cat jumped onto the stool and spread her arms.

  “I’ll leave her to you, Clara,” said the Captain. “We’ll return in an hour.”

  He quickly left the store with Mouse and Anderssen. He watched through the window as, with sudden realization, Clara searched her pockets for the change purse that had been hidden within.

  It was gone. She looked up and caught his laugh as he shook the small purse at her through the window before walking down the street. His mood was already much improved by the trip to town.

  The three of them made their way to a general store run by the head of the local merchants’ association, entering the bright and friendly storefront to the scent of spices and fresh goods. The crates and shelves were organized and neat, and the long counter gleamed.

  “Hello, Master Tims.”

  “Captain! How wonderful to see you. I heard word that you were sighted in town. We did not expect your return for another month at the least.”

  “We hit a spot of trouble and had to return earlier than anticipated. It’s no matter. We’ll be up and flying again soon, I expect.”


  They traded knowing looks. Tims waved him into the back room as he handed over the register to his assistant.

  “Come, let us have a cup while we discuss our business.”

  Leaving Mouse and Anderssen to explore the store and chat with the lad at the till, they entered a cozy office. The Captain settled into a comfortable, threadbare armchair. Unlike the front, this room was cluttered with knick-knacks: bits of metal cogs and clockwork springs littered a bench in the corner, and Tims had to shift a mess of gears from the small table before setting down the tea service.

  “I see you’re still tinkering,” said the Captain Duke, accepting his cup.

  “Oh yes, I’ll have to show you my latest gadget. A toy bear that can walk and sit and drink tea with my daughter. She’s enraptured with the thing. She’s named it Bobo and won’t leave the house without it.”

  “And your wife?”

  “Better. Much better. I’ve managed to advance a number of the designs you brought from the continent. Very useful, especially that ingenious device to toast bread. Her mood is much brighter now that she feels well enough to contribute, although she is still bound to the chair and must rest for much of the day. But she is much improved. Thank you. Thank you, Captain.”

  “Truly, I’m glad to hear it.”

  Tims gave him a watery smile before waving his troubles aside, “Now tell me of your travels, what caused your premature return?”

  “We were ambushed by a contingent of soldiers. They have taken to guarding the Tradist ships now.”

  “By Victoria, how did you escape?”

  “To be quite honest, I did not think we would. One of our new pilots was able to trick them into releasing us.”

  “The risks you take concern me, Captain, though we do appreciate your labours.”

  The Captain Duke nodded in appreciation, but was deep in thought as he sipped his tea.

  “I was wondering…”