Chronicles of Gilderam: Book One: Sunset (12 page)

“
Threithumé!
” Levwit exclaimed. “I don’t think they like you very much.”

“I suppose,” said Fulo, expelling his spent shell, “that might be because I keep killing them.”

“Could be,” said Levwit. “Shame, though. You seem like such a nice chap.” And he stepped into the hallway to fire again, cloaked in a swirling shroud of gun smoke.

The last of the pirates lugged their plunder up the rope ladders of their sloops and abandoned the wrecked galleon. A few bluejacks fired rifles from the deck, picking off the climbers before their ships could carry them out of range.

After her weapons had been neutralized, the
Silus’
engines were dismantled by iron-tipped bolts. The heavy, powerful quarrels were a crude though effective means of sinking a ship. It was one of those bolts that had fired through the hold, located just beneath the engine room, and very narrowly missed Shazahd.

The sloops circled in the air and regrouped, forming a final attack run for the
Silus
.
Gilderam
sailed steadily toward them, rising along the way to level its ventral gondola with the main deck of the galleon – but she would not be fast enough to beat the sloops.

The pirates flew past the
Silus
with a vicious fury, giving her all they had. Hopeless sailors on deck shot their rifles futilely into the air while cannon shot shredded both balloons and rapidly deflated their internal compartments.

Ballistae fired more bolts through the darkwood hull, causing structural harm so severe that the creaking and snapping from within promised to halve the vessel in midair. It shuddered and jerked grotesquely, bending and sagging from bow to stern while its skeleton lost tensile strength.

As the fate of the
Silus
was secured, bluejacks abandoned ship using the only available means: parachute baskets.

To discourage surrender, each ship was only equipped with a few – and they were all reserved for officers. The parachute was carefully wound up inside a man-sized basket, and the two were connected by a dizzying array of cords. The daring sailor would pull out the canopy, replace himself in the basket, and leap with the whole contraption into the open air.

Assuming it worked perfectly, the canopy would unfurl on its own during the descent, and the occupant would float safely to the ground. Assuming anything went wrong, the sailor would free fall to his death.

All the parachutes were gone before anyone gave the official order to abandon ship. In the resulting confusion, those doomed aboard the galleon ran around madly tearing apart empty parachute closets, or bracing themselves for the inevitable descent. Some opted for a quicker end and leapt overboard.

Owein kicked open a hatch on the deck and emerged with a dazed Shazahd, pulling her along with his still-shackled hand. The immediate sight of
Gilderam
on approach sent their spirits soaring.

“Look!” he said. “They’re coming to get us!”

They hurried to the gunwale. Cavada was hanging halfway out of the gondola, and his jaw dropped when he saw the two of them in the open. He was on the speaking tube before he knew exactly what to say.

“It’s them! On the deck! I see them! Slow down! Slow down!”

Owein and Shazahd had nearly crossed the deck when an integral strut ruptured within the
Silus
, strained at last beyond its brink. The ship buckled tremendously and the foredeck heaved underfoot. It sent them high into the air, and then caught them unforgivingly on their backsides.

Screams rang out along the length of the ship. The
Silus
started listing over to its starboard side, barrel rolling in slow motion. It was going to capsize before it sank.

Shazahd ran for the smoldering port side – toward the approaching
Gilderam
– instinctively reaching for higher ground.

“No!” Owein hollered, grabbing her. “This way.”

He tore off toward the aft of the ship, going along the starboard side of the deck as it tilted lower. She gave her ship one last look before turning around to follow Owein.

Gilderam
drew closer, slowing as she came, while the
Silus
continued to roll. Weapon emplacements, broken loose, slid across the steepening deck and smashed their way through the starboard gunwale, falling onto farms below. Desperate sailors clung to any handhold they could find as the deck beneath their feet became a vertical wall.

Owein and Shazahd were losing traction, sliding sideways as the ship rotated, and soon they were running along the inside of the gunwale rather than on the deck itself.

Above the weather deck, the forecastle was armored with iron plating, but it gave way to the balloon’s shroud, a net of rigging, near the middle of the ship. That was their destination, and just as the
Silus
was inverting Owein leapt for the ropes.

He timed it right and got a solid hold. Shazahd jumped to him just before the gunwale poured her overboard. She caught onto his dangling leg and transferred herself to the shroud of the balloon.

Gilderam’s
trajectory had been set to coast in just above the
Silus’
deck when it was level, and now she had to ascend quickly in order to avoid a head-on collision with the capsizing vessel. She sailed over the
Silus
, and Owein and Shazahd were left stranded on the starboard side, now the bottom of the ship.

The galleon rotated completely upside-down, and the sloops came back to administer the fatal blow. Mentrat attempted to steer
Gilderam
away from the attacking ships, but they were too close and took several collateral hits.

The pirates concentrated their fired into the
Silus’
keel,
knocking apart huge chunks of the hull. The ship began to crumble. Its own enormous weight now betrayed it and helped to hasten its disintegration. After the pirates had flown on, one of her two turbines dislodged itself from deep within the belly of the ship and, tearing its way through the aft balloon, fell out the dorsal side and tumbled down to the hills below. This lightened the stern end considerably and caused it to float higher than the fore.

But the weight was uneven and the ship’s carcass twisted in the middle. That torque was the final straw, and the wreck snapped in two. The lower decks dropped out, lead by the forward boiler, and took most of the remaining hull with it. Cargo and stores spilled everywhere as the ship unraveled itself in the air.

All that was left floating was one balloon, shorn free from its usual mantle. Battered and mostly deflated, the balloon floated in the air a gelatinous, melted heap of canvas and rope, still carrying bits of the hull.

Owein and Shazahd, clinging to it for dear life, were hanging on one side. On the opposite side, a Gresadian officer in a brilliant blue uniform was holding onto a dangling chunk of bulkhead.

The three of them began climbing up its shroud – a race to the apex.

“
Zatszvé!
” cursed Captain Vrei as she watched another one of her comrades hit the floor. This one was shot right through the heart.

“Who
are
these people?!” said Gierol as he took another shot.

“This is taking too long,” said Vrei. “Who’s left?”

“Looks like you,” Gierol reported, “myself, Nolnder and Ibsh.”

Bang!

“…Me, you and Nolnder.”

“Captain!” Nolnder called out from a cabin across the smoky hall. “We have to retreat!”

Vrei’s female voice broke the air with a cackling belly laugh.

“Retreat?!” she echoed, still laughing, as she reloaded her double-barrel blunderbuss. “That’s a good one.” She fired both barrels at once from the hip.

“We can’t remain here,” said Gierol. “I’m almost out of ammunition.”

“Aye! Me too,” said Nolnder.

“All right,
feirishum
,” Vrei taunted. “Let’s fall back. We’ll take them outside for a fair fight.” She drew her cutlass. “Move!”

The three remaining pirates rose at once and flew down the corridor the way they had come, firing to give themselves cover. Nolnder lit a grenade and tossed it behind him on the way. It exploded with a terrific
pop
that shook the floors.

The trio retraced their steps perfectly. They had taken special care to remember the way back, but after just a short while they came to a halt where the hallway forked three different ways.

“Wait…” said Gierol, panting. “This doesn’t look familiar.”

“No, we came this way,” said Nolnder. “We came from there.” He pointed down a hall. “Or was it…?” Then they all noticed.

Each hall was identical.

“
Bacar
,” said Captain Vrei. “This isn’t good.” They heard the footfalls of their pursuers catching up behind them. Gierol and Nolnder drew their swords. “Looks like we take them here,” Vrei said.

“Where’d they go?” Cavada shouted into the speaking tube. “Can you see them?”

Gilderam
swung around after the free-flying balloon. The pirate sloops disappeared into the clouds, evidently so glutted with their plunder from the galleon that they could afford
Gilderam
a rare shred of mercy. Their comrades, still inside
Gilderam
, were not so fortunate. No one was coming back to get them.

Jaes responded, “
We’ve got them! They’re still on that balloon. But they’re rising fast – they’ve got no ballast!
”

The near-weightless balloon sailed heavenward at an alarming speed. The varride gas used to provide lift was incredibly buoyant, allowing manageably sized balloons to offset the tremendous weight of heavily-armored airships. Without the counterweight of the ballasts, hull, engine and infrastructure, there was no stopping their ascent.

“Climb!
Climb!
” Cavada called through the tube. “We’ve got to follow them!”

Owein surmounted the balloon by climbing the shroud that had previously anchored it to the
Silus
. At the top, he met the eyes of the lieutenant… the same man who had just recently read him his death warrant. The surprise was a shock for both of them.

But reality quickly sank in, and as soon as they got to their feet they were throwing punches.

Owein was the first to strike, leading with a jab. The manacles around his wrists made it a two-fisted jab. The unstable ground made balance impossible, and so his blow flew chaotically off target. The lieutenant came back with an equally ineffective hook. Owein didn’t have to dodge it, but nearly fell over backward anyway when the balloon shifted underfoot.

Shazahd tucked her head down below the fight, still holding onto the side of the balloon. Her ears popped, reminding her just how high they were. She looked down and saw the shrinking
Gilderam
, already more than half an
itth
below.

Above, the lieutenant drew his naval saber. He only swung it a couple times before Owein tackled him headlong. The sword dropped and tumbled over the edge, but it fell on Shazahd’s side, and she caught it by the hilt before it was lost.

The two men wrestled on the balloon, rolling over one another until the bouncy surface gave way unexpectedly, and they found themselves falling together. Temporarily forgetting their scuffle, Owein and the bluejack scraped down the side of the sagging balloon flailing desperately for a handhold.

The lieutenant caught a rope first, near the bottom where loose flaps of gasless canvas hung in sheets beneath the still-buoyant compartments. Owein was not so lucky, and fell clear past all that, catching himself on the last strand of rope dangling far beneath the whole floating mass.

He strained to pull himself up while the lieutenant carried himself between ropes, coming closer to Owein’s. It was a slow and painful race, with Owein hauling his weight vertically, and the lieutenant negotiating horizontally.

They met halfway. Holding on with their arms, they fought with their legs, kicking and stomping at one another, causing their bodies to swing like pendulums under the balloon.

Shazahd climbed to the top with the sword in hand, and leaned precariously over the edge to see the fight. She could only catch glimpses when the inertia of their fighting caused them to swing out from under the balloon.

She could see where the dangling ropes originated, near her at the top. Two of them were pulled taut with what could only be the weight of Owein and the lieutenant. As the ropes ran down the length of the balloon they became hopelessly entwined with others, so she couldn’t discern which rope belonged to which man.

The grunts and cursing of the combatants below made her grip the sword tighter with anxiety, and the thought of doing nothing terrified her. She watched like a hawk each time the brawlers swung out, trying to figure out which rope might hold which one… but there was no way to be sure. On the next swing, she saw the lieutenant land a vicious kick into Owein’s shoulder, and it nearly knocked him free.