Iron Horsemen (18 page)

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Authors: Brad R. Cook

BOOK: Iron Horsemen
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Baldarich ran to the window. “Curse that witch! Why now?”

“She's coming on fast,” I gasped.

“Coyote,” the captain said, “turn us away, and stay out of the range of their grapplers.” He peered through his telescope, and without looking at me said, “Alexander, looks like all the damage you caused has been repaired. They look to be in fighting form.” He turned to Genevieve. “Fancy another swordfight with a pirate?”

My father's eyes widened, no doubt wondering what on earth I could have had to do with damaging a sky pirate's ship and why in the world the daughter of a baron would have ever crossed swords with its captain.

I waited for the Sparrowhawk to surge forward and bank away from Zerelda's ship. Could we stay out of her reach? Would we be able to escape or would we have to fight again? The moments ticked by as blood pounded in my temple and my heart thudded against my ribs. I looked around. I should be leaning as the vessel banked into its
turn, but our speed hadn't increased and we remained level, sticking to the same course we'd been on. I saw Coyote sitting with his hands on the wheel but his gaze was a thousand miles out in the stormy sky. I glanced over at the captain and started to speak, just as he turned around.

“Coyote, I said turn. Keep us out of the range of their grapplers.”

Coyote rotated the wheel toward the Storm Vulture and the vessel started to bank. “I'm afraid I can't do that captain.”

The captain crossed the bridge toward the pilot, but Coyote leapt out of the seat raised his arm and a small pistol slid out his sleeve and into his hand. He pointed it at the captain. “Don't make me shoot you, captain. She just wants the kids and the professor.”

Baldarich put up his hands. “How much is the sky witch paying you?”

“More than you.” Coyote pulled a buckler shield from under his long gray overcoat. The small metal shield had a raised center that held the concealed gun barrel. He pointed the shield at Ignatius, who hadn't moved from the engineer's station, but had a pistol aimed at the pilot.

I stared in disbelief.
How could Coyote turn on his own crew?
“If this is about money, we can get you more when we get back to England.”

“Maybe you don't get it, brat, you're not going back to England.” He shook his head. “Welcome to the real world, where happy endings only come at the end of a barrel.”

His words hit me like a fist to my gut, and I felt like I might throw up. I had never been betrayed before, sure bullies had picked on me, friends had told their white lies that freed them from obligations, but a liar, who I considered a friend? Someone with whom I'd faced death? Never. I had been ignorant to those feelings and I wished now that it had stayed that way.

Baldarich's eyes narrowed and his voice deepened. “Coyote, I want you to think real hard about your next step, it may be a long one.”

“Captain, my next step was already planned. They'll come aboard, I get paid, they take possession of the kids and the professor, and after that, fate is left in your hands.” Coyote smiled, but kept his guns trained on the captain and Ignatius. “You can either turn them over peacefully, or you can be blasted out of the sky. Either way I get paid, and get safe passage off this vessel.”

“Those are my only options. I see. I should be worried then?” Captain Baldarich laughed. “You disgust me; I saved you from swinging underneath that yard arm after you'd fled America.”

“You yanked me off a ship during one of your raids and offered me a slightly better deal than the one I had. I'm not one your German lap dogs, I'm here for the money and we haven't been bringing in much of it lately.” He looked at Ignatius. “Come on, you know what I'm talking about. Why don't we make the Sparrowhawk our new ship?”

“Sorry, I don't like Zerelda or her new friends.” Ignatius spit on the deck. “Besides, I'm going to have too much fun shooting you.”

I bit back the tears and stepped forward causing everyone to shift. Coyote pointed the shield at me, Genevieve pulled me back by my sleeve as Rodin slid from her shoulder. Ignatius stood up and aimed his Colt at Coyote who moved the shield back and forth between the two of us. Baldarich took a step to the side and closed the distance between himself and the pilot.

The hurt and disappointment morphed into pure rage, and I didn't care that the shield gun was aimed at my head. I marched toward Coyote, shouting, “How can you betray us? Zerelda is working for Kannard and he is evil. How can you help them?”

“Quit being so naïve, kid. I have no love for the English, and as an American you shouldn't either. So Kannard and his horsemen want to head to London and wreck havoc. Maybe they'll topple the crown, take down the monarchy. More power to them.” My father raised his hand to interject, but Coyote aimed his pistol at him. “Shut up, I would love to shoot someone here, and I think you've more than served your purpose, Professor. My paymasters didn't seem too concerned if I killed you.”

My father lowered his hand and looked at me, stunned and confused.

“I only want to know one thing,” Captain Baldarich said. “When did she buy you?”

“When Zerelda captured the Sparrowhawk. She made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Besides you'd just shown you didn't care. First you make that damn Indian your boatswain, and then you let them take the ship and torture us, rather than give up the kids. That let me know where your loyalties lay.”

Baldarich shook his head. “I liked you, Coyote, but I should have listened to my instincts and never trusted the trickster.”

“Enough small talk. Raise the white flag or I'll use one of their bloodied shirts to signal the Storm Vulture.”

I couldn't listen any longer; the pain ripped me from my shell. “Everyone tries to complicate this with excuses, but it's simple: you help people no matter what their country, class, or color.”

Baldarich threw back his coat and said, “Ignatius. Kill him.”

Coyote turned his shield toward Ignatius who fired his colt. The bullet struck the buckler and rang like a gong. The captain drew his lightning cannon and dove to the ground as Coyote fired at him without looking. The bullet went over his head; he rolled and fired. The electric bolt
missed, but the look it put on Coyote's face brought a smile to everyone's face.

Rodin flew in, attacking Coyote's head. The little bronze dragon scratched with its claws and bit his ear. Genevieve smiled and drew her saber and I reached for my Thumper.

Coyote threw the dragon at the wall. Rodin clung for a moment and then dropped to the floor. Shaking his head, and spitting out several locks of Coyote's hair, the little dragon looked ready for more.

Coyote took another shot at Ignatius, forcing him to duck away and run off the bridge.

The captain cried out, “Ignatius, help me get this ship back on course.”

“Aye,”

Genevieve and I ran after Coyote, and found him by the conning tower ladder.

Mr. Singh blocked his path.

Coyote still had his buckler shield raised, but had already used up the two-shot derringer in his other hand. Pushing himself against the wall, he drew a duck-foot pistol and fired. The eight barrels of the duck-foot were arranged in pairs that fanned out in a wide arc. All the barrels fired simultaneously.

I grabbed Genevieve and dropped to the deck. Mr. Singh fell backward down the stairs.

Coyote raced up the ladder and out the top of the conning tower. I leapt up and followed. I popped my head above the conning tower and looked around. I'd expected to get shot, but Coyote was running for the front of the Sparrowhawk. Climbing out onto the top of the aero-dirigible, I saw the Storm Vulture trying to maneuver overhead. The wind whipped against me and made it hard to stand. The cool moisture of the storm dampened my clothes and I shivered.

The Sparrowhawk banked away from the Storm Vulture and I grabbed hold of a stabilizing line to keep from falling.
Looking up at the sky pirates, I had the sudden feeling this was a bad idea. I didn't know what Coyote was trying to do, but Zerelda was pointing at him.

The Sparrowhawk dove to gain speed and slipped away from the Storm Vulture. Coyote tumbled forward, and I let go of the line and slid after him. My hands frantically searched for the railing, and snagged it with one hand. The Sparrowhawk leveled off and Coyote who had locked his foot into a seam sprang up and looked over the side.

I drew my Thumper and said, “Come back here, traitor!”

Coyote turned and smiled. “Kid, if you ever played poker with me, you'd know I always have an escape plan.”

“That's because you cheat. I've seen you play.” I wanted to pull the trigger, but I'd never shot a man point blank. I hesitated.

Coyote laughed, winked at me, and dove off the railing like a circus performer. His jacket ripped open, and a huge canvas chute opened above him, billowing in the wind. Our eyes connected one last time and he pointed to the eastern sky with a crooked, wicked smile.

I looked east and saw black dots arcing out across the sky. It was a zeppelin armada of every size and shape ready to engulf us like a pack of sharks devouring its prey. Two shots rang out, and I ducked. Below the ship, Coyote spun wildly in the air, one rope connected to his canvas chute had been severed and he gripped his leg as his pant leg turned red and blood dripped into air.

I used the rail to slide back to the conning tower and descend the ladder. Hunter stood there leaning on Gretel. Thin wisps of smoke still streamed out of the barrels and the wide smile on his face was all I needed to know where the shots had come from.

“You hit him.”

“Winged him. He'll have a hell of time with that chute, and landing is going to hurt. Doubt he feels it, though. No
one betrays the captain.”

“He did more than sell out to Zerelda,” I pointed toward the eastern sky where the black dots were slowly getting bigger. “An armada of airships is heading this way.”

CHAPTER 24
THE ARMADA

“Good, you two are back.” Captain Baldarich said from the pilot's seat.

In the distance, the armada stretched across the clouded sky. Huge war zeppelins towered over smaller airskiffs, and air balloons bobbed along behind them with clusters of bombs dangling on long tethers beneath the navigator's baskets. The sun glinted on gleaming brass and matte steel as they closed the distance.

Gunports popped open in rapid succession on the larger vessels as men crisscrossed the open decks in a flurry of activity.

The pirate fleet was terrifying, yet I couldn't look away. I tried to count them, but lost track, watching the flagmen relay orders with whipping arms. Then in unison the armada turned toward the Sparrowhawk.

“Let the battle begin,” I whispered, hoping no would hear my fear.

“Milady, sit here.” The captain stood, but still held on to the wheel. “Alexander, stand beside her, man the throttle and help her steer.”

Genevieve snapped, “I can handle it,” and sat down.

“This is about to get pretty nasty. I love this ol'girl, but
she's a bit of a whale. She'll try to kick back with each canon shot, so Alexander will help you steady this thing. Hell, even that back-stabber Coyote would have needed my help.”

I nodded, and grabbed the three wooden-handled brass throttles.

“Just do what I say and you'll be fine.” Returning to his chair, the captain turned to my father. “Get me a bearing on that fleet.”

“Surely you're surely not going to depend on two children to fly this airship.”

“Are you going to fly it, Professor?”

My father's face turned white. The captain held his gaze. “Bearing, professor. Now, if you don't mind.”

My father turned back to the map and charts arrayed on the table. “If you're looking for a fight, turn northeast, and you'll run right into them.”

“Excellent!” Baldarich said as he dropped into his chair. “Starboard turn, thirty degrees, rise five degrees.”

I looked at Genevieve; her puzzled expression mirrored my own. “Queen's English, please,” she said.

“Turn the wheel to the right until you see it move thirty degrees on the compass and pull back a little bit until the nose is up five degrees. Alexander, push all three levers two ticks forward.”

“That, I can understand.” She followed his instructions as I adjusted the throttle and the Sparrowhawk soared into ever-darkening skies.

The captain barked orders into each of the copper tubes. I studied his calm demeanor, the way he commanded the vessel like an orchestra conductor. He was fearless and I was in awe of his calm demeanor. I couldn't swallow the lump lodged in my throat nor fling away the sweat pouring from my brow. Terror gripped me in its clammy claws, but passed like a swift breeze over Captain Baldarich.

I bit my lip and thought of the word fear in every language I could think of. I tried to imagine what the battle might be like, but the captain leaned in and said, “It'll be far worse than anything running through your mind. Count on that.”

“How did you know…?”

“Seen that face plenty of times.” The captain looked out the window and stroked his mustache.

The Sparrowhawk angled toward the armada, and I realized Baldarich studied the configuration trying to figure out what would happen in the battle before it took place.

Genevieve grunted as she turned to port. I grabbed the wheel as it jerked back to starboard. Genevieve and I fought to bring it back, as my knuckles turned white.

Baldarich pushed back his dark leather coat and his hands went to his hips. “Let's see who's come to visit. Milady, take us through.”

I turned and asked, “What?”

“If you were truly on my crew, I'd dangle you outside for that remark.” Baldarich spun around and smiled. “Right down the middle, please, and Alexander full speed ahead. I wouldn't want to be shot.”

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