by Rebecca Diem
She was strapped alongside little Cat, who appeared to be giving her some final instructions. Mouse was perched above them, monitoring the wind speed. A signal from him was all they needed to make the leap, plunging down along with his heart. He took a few panicked steps forward before catching his composure, and waited, breathless, as they curved out over the water and did a few laps around the ship. His stomach rolled into knots and he found he was glad he hadn’t finished his breakfast after all. Still, as they soared by, his anxiety was overcome by the gliders’ obvious joy. They were harnessed together, moving in tandem as they manoeuvered the wings, legs stretched out and hooked into leather loops that controlled the tail wing. It was an older model that they used for training: more cumbersome, but sturdy. The lighter models used by his pilots required one’s absolute concentration and complete control. The Captain watched as they circled. The delighted shouts of the two young women could be heard even over the loud encouragement from the crew. Finally, they turned in to land on the deck, releasing their legs and banking the wings to slow their descent. They found their feet with ease, unstrapping themselves and collapsing the wings of the glider before clasping each other in a great hug, Clara practically picking Cat off of the deck. Grinning ear to ear, they turned to give deep curtsies to the cheering pilots.
Nessa walked over to stand by the Captain, calling out, “Oh you’re looking a little pale there, Captain. How did you like our morning lessons?”
“I had not realized it would be so soon.”
“Oh, she insisted and Cat was all for it. She seems to have woken none the worse for the festivities last night. They came this morning as soon as we were over the water. This is their fourth run so far. Mouse claims she’s a natural, but they want her to have more tandem practice before they’ll let her take one out on her own.”
“They’ve taken over her training, I see.”
Nessa laughed, “Can you blame them? They’re eager to have such a willing student. And she’s been very respectful of their teachings, even despite their ages. She treats them like the experts they are.”
A small smile crossed his lips before he caught it.
“Very well. As long as it doesn’t interfere with their work. Or the work of the crew.”
“Yes sir, Captain. I’ll get them back on task.”
“And Nessa, we’ll need to meet about the plans for the next raid. Have you had news from Robbie?”
“Safely at the Haven, his transmission came this morning. He made contact with a few sources that might have interesting leads for us.”
“Excellent. We’ll have an officers’ meeting before dinner.”
She gave him a salute before leaving to assign the crew their duties for the day. He saw Clara standing with Cat and Mouse, still glowing from the flight but listening with rapt attention as the young boy gave her instructions for her next attempt, gesturing wildly with his arms to mimic their flight. She nodded in understanding, and shook their hands, saying something that made the two young pilots glow with happiness. They ran off after Nessa pointed them to their tasks. He saw Clara smile after them. Then her eyes turned and caught his gaze. He tried to give a curt, friendly nod, but she held his gaze until Nessa caught her attention. She followed Nessa to the ropes without a second glance. The Captain sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. He wanted her to succeed. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to teach her everything about his ship and watch as her face lit with that glow that came with mastering each new task.
He banished the thought before it could form completely, and went about his day. A captain could be very busy if he chose to be, and he decided the best course of action was to devote himself to the work at hand.
The next week proceeded without incident. When Clara was working on deck, he busied himself in his office. When she was assisting Trick with the bookkeeping, he found himself navigating or overseeing the work of the crew. When she had her gliding lessons, high above the decks, only then did he find reason to be somewhere he could watch her fly. He noticed that Clara’s hands were raw from the ropes one night at the evening meal, and discreetly had Nessa place some extra lanolin oil in the women’s cabin. He noticed that she struggled to reach some of the higher shelves and had the ledgers moved down. When they ran into each other at supper, the two exchanged nothing more than a comment on the fine weather before he hurried off with some excuse.
The time was approaching for their next raid and he was determined to keep her safely out of the way with Cat and Mouse. The two children complained every time, but accepted his verdict that they were not allowed on active raids until they were 16 and could best Nessa in training. He watched the clouds pass by the windows in his office until he heard Trick enter behind him, shutting the door quietly.
“Do you have the plans readied? Nessa will be joining us shortly,” the Captain called without turning. Silence greeted him.
“Do you have them or no—” he cut off as he turned to discover Clara standing in his quarters.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Trick asked me to work on the ledgers.”
“Oh. Of course,” he stood straight, and inwardly swore at himself as he saw her eyes narrow.
“I can work on them another time if my presence disturbs you,” she said, with a dangerous lilt to her voice. The Captain saw the challenge too late and knew he was trapped.
“Not at all. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Clara walked by him with her chin in the air to pull one of the large, leather bound registers from the middle shelves. She sat at the desk in the corner and opened it to the page she had worked on last. Her neat handwriting was a great improvement over his first mate’s crooked calligraphy. She knew a better form of double-entry accountancy and Trick had entrusted her with the task of transferring the inventory numbers. He went to busy himself with the maps and reading the latest missive from Robbie.
“I noticed you moved the books around. Thank you,” she said.
He tried to think of a suitable reply, but a heavy silence dragged on until she interrupted his attempt.
“Nothing? Very well then.”
“I beg your pardon?” he said with as much detachment as he could muster. He chanced a glance in her direction and found her half-turned in her chair, glaring at him. He felt his chest constrict. Gods, but she was a sight. Green eyes flashing, dark hair escaping its braid as always, long legs clad in breeches and tall boots. Her long coat she abandoned in the summer heat. She was absolutely captivating.
“You have hardly spoken to me this week.”
“I have been occupied. A Captain has many duties.”
She flushed at that. He was sorry for his sternness immediately after speaking.
“Forgive me. I was only wondering if you regret your decision,” she said.
“Regret… which decision exactly?”
“To allow me on your ship. My pilot’s commission. You are friendly to all and yet you make a point of ignoring me.”
“I have done no such thing.”
“You have so.”
“Have I been impolite?”
“Not at all, your politeness is astounding.”
“Then what is your concern?”
“It— You— I want to know why.”
“Why? I am your Captain. I do not have the time to attend to every individual on my ship,” he said carefully. He deliberately relaxed his posture, stretching his legs under the table as he turned back to his maps.
“And yet the ledgers appear to be rearranged.”
“I meant to organize them long ago.”
“So it was not because they were out of reach for your new bookkeeper?”
“It made more sense to place them on a lower shelf.”
“And the lanolin oil?”
They glared at each other from their seats across the room. Why couldn’t she let things be. Why must they discuss this all now, when he was so unsettled by her proximity. He was not a young lad anymore, and w
as no longer used to feeling quite so shaken around a woman.
“What of it?” he asked. She gave him a look so thorough he was certain she was examining his very soul.
“Pardon my attempt at gratitude for a kind gesture. I will work on the accounts at a more convenient time.”
Clara shut the book and rose to leave, her chair scraping against the floorboards. She walked across the cabin, her stride losing more of the debutante each day as her comfort grew with the sway of the airship. He stood and cut her off before she reached the door.
“Wait.” He put a hand on her arm to stop her. He was at a loss of what to say, but he knew he’d never hear the end of it if Trick or Nessa saw that he had angered her. They were standing too close. She glanced at his hand quickly, then up to meet his eyes.
“Please, forgive me,” he said. The request hung in the air as the moment lingered.
Then the door opened and Nessa walked in.
“I see you two are getting along better,” she smirked, leaning against the door jamb. The blood warmed Clara’s cheeks, and the Captain swore under his breath as he quickly released her. He turned back to the table with the maps.
“We’ll hold the officer’s meeting now. Clara, you may do the books later,” he said, trying to sound authoritative. He was actually glad of the interruption, despite being caught mid-apology. He needed time to think. Right now he wanted nothing more than to throw himself into planning this raid. A perfectly excusable distraction. The problem of Clara could wait.
Trick stepped in as Clara walked out. The Captain saw him glance towards the desk in the corner, then raise an eyebrow at Nessa, who gave a tiny shake of her head and a look that said it might be best not to raise the issue. The Captain decided not to comment on their conspiracy just yet. There were more important things to take care of first.
“Well. What’s the latest news?”
Trick settled into his seat across the table before replying, “The latest from Robbie says there’s not many who will cross our paths until next month, but there’s one bringing grains to London in five days’ time and we can meet it on our way to the Haven. The winds are favouring us. It’s reported to be quite the haul, but we don’t have as much information on the cargo as I’d like.”
“Good, we’ll take this opportunity. Robbie didn’t express any concerns?”
“None, but I would rather learn more before we intercept the goods. We could wait until next month when Robbie and the rest of the crew are back.”
“Nessa?”
“We have enough pilots to pull it off if we’re careful. I don’t want us taking unnecessary risks without the full crew, but the merchants up north will need these goods sooner rather than later.”
“Then we’ll just have to be clever about it.”
“If you’re certain, then I’ll agree with the two of you,” Trick sighed. “We’ll do this raid then head north for a delivery run and pick up Robbie on the way.”
“Good. Now let’s be clever.”
The three spoke long into the dinner hour, eating from plates brought up from the mess by Mouse. By the evening hour the plan was in place. They set course for the interception point and began preparations.
Chapter 8: In which our heroine begins to understand her choice
Clara stared down at the activity below. She was sitting aloft on the lookout platform suspended between the balloons and the foredeck with Cat and Mouse, enjoying a small snack as they took their break from training on the ropes. She had grown more and more comfortable with the heights as her training progressed. She remembered her first flight with Cat as though it were yesterday. It was so very different than gliding with her brother around the Isle. So much farther above the ground! Mouse taught her the different ways to launch oneself from the airship safely and the steps to take in an emergency. The young boy was so knowledgeable, and yet he shared the information in such an easygoing way that it was a joy to learn from him. With Cat’s light frame strapped next to hers she learned to manipulate the glider along the air currents, to feel the pressure on the wings as though they were an extension of her own body. Finally, they deemed her ready to fly on her own.
It was hard to describe such a perfect experience, but Clara turned it over and over in her mind, not wanting to forget a single detail. At their signal, she allowed herself to fall forward from the ropes, giving in to the terrifying sensation of plunging toward the sea before the currents caught the wings of her glider and she steered smoothly over the water, angling around the ship. She flew in wide, sweeping arcs, feeling the rush as she climbed higher and banked her wings against the winds. She circled the balloons and dove down beneath the airship before gliding up the other side. Her body was taut and controlled, focused on every minute adjustment needed to control the glider; but her heart was open, embracing the joy and exhilaration of the flight. How could she possibly explain it? It was unlike anything she had felt before. Clara now understood why her brother was so fascinated with his inventions. He was always fiddling with his gadgets, taking things apart and putting them together again. He loved his gliders more than anything. It was one thing to go along for the ride. Flying solo was a completely different experience.
“You’re thinking about it, right?” Cat asked.
“Hm?” Clara asked as she broke from her reverie.
“Your first flight! I can see that dreamy look in your eyes.”
Clara reached out and tousled her curly mop of hair. Cat and her brother both had caramel-coloured curls that turned gold at the sun-kissed ends. They could have been twins but for their ages. Identical pairs of dark blue eyes shimmered with mirth. They made her miss her own brother.
“What was yours like?” she asked the younger girl.
“I’ve been on airships as long as I remember. Papa taught me to use a parachute when I was 4 in case there was an emergency and he couldn’t reach me in time. I was flying my own glider by the time I was 7. Papa took us around in a sling when we were babes so I already knew the basics. He said Mama watches over us, so we’re safe as angels.”
“How old were you when…?”
Cat scrunched her nose. “When he died? Nine. Mouse was only three. He couldn’t fly yet, but I found the Captain like Papa told me and we taught him.”
“You must have been very brave. My father died this past spring, and I miss him very much.”
“Yes,” Cat said, patting Clara’s hand gently. “But the Captain takes care of us now. That’s what Papa said, find the Captain Duke and he will do right by you. Now we’re pilots, just like him, and he’s an angel with Mama.”
Mouse left the wind monitors and came to sit on her other side.
“I remember him. He had a big hat. He found me in the pantry and said I must be a wee mouse because I was always getting into the food.”
Clara laughed, “Is that how you came by your name?”
“Well, my real name is Morris, I suppose,” he said. “But I’m really just Mouse.”
“I’m Catherine! Catherine Mary Margaret Waugh.”
“Well, I’m Morris Alexander James Waugh,” he said. Then he leaned in to whisper in Clara’s ear. “But please just call me Mouse. I like it better.”
“I think Morris is a lovely name,” she teased. “But you will always be Mouse to me.” The young boy allowed himself to be pulled into her lap for a hug.
“Did you have no other family?”
“Some cousins, but most of them moved across the ocean. Is that where yours went, Clara?” asked Cat.
“My brother is in Oxford and my mother is in Europe visiting my aunt.”
“Oh, so you’ll see them again soon.”
Clara sighed. She wished she could be certain, but she had a feeling it might be a long while before their paths crossed again.
“What’s your name, Clara?” asked Mouse, turning his head to look up at her.
“Clara Elizabeth –” she cut herself off, noticing the Captain Duke standing below them. When he re
alized he had their attention, he called for them to join him and they quickly made their way down the rope ladders.
The two young pilots made it to the deck first, as usual, and were already frowning when she joined them.
“We’ll be announcing the next raid at supper this evening,” said the Captain.
“Well, if Clara gets to be part of it, then we do too,” Cat said, crossing her arms.
“Two more years, little Cat. Not until you are –”
“Sixteen and can best Nessa in a duel. Yes, yes, we know,” she said.
“In any case, Clara will be joining the two of you. I expect the two of you to show her how to take the necessary precautions.”
“I know it’s my first raid, but certainly I can be of some assistance,” Clara interrupted. She was not pleased by the way he addressed Cat while she stood right there beside her.
“We need fighters. Experienced pilots.”
Clara raised an eyebrow, “And what shall we do in the meantime? Embroidery?”
“It’s not the worst idea…” the Captain began. He stopped after receiving twin glares from Clara and Cat. “Your role is to observe and learn. If you can manage that, I’ll have Nessa include you in their training.”
Cat and Mouse accepted their assignment and the Captain dismissed them. Then he turned to Clara.
“The raid is in three days. There’s a small town we will be passing over before then. If you like, you may disembark at their port.”
Clara burned.
“You wish me gone.”
“I wish to know if you are committed to our cause.”
“And observing this raid is to be a test of that?”
“Well, yes.”
Clara sighed. “Have I not been charged with updating your account books?”
“Yes…” the Captain said, raising a quizzical brow.
“So then could it not be argued that I am already rather knowledgeable about ‘our cause’ and can be trusted to conduct myself in an appropriate manner? I’ve seen the ledgers. You target the grain shipments and other essential goods. A fifth is accounted for in trading for our own needs and payment to the crew. The rest disappears from the books.” Clara paused at the Captain’s stern look, taking a breath before continuing. “I am not a chartered accountant, but I have employed the double-entry system as consistently as I am able to and these missing goods must have been transferred elsewhere. Am I correct in assuming they made it into deserving hands?”
