Division by Zero (ZnT/WA)

[drakensis]

Now that we were in the air, it was not long before we reached the ship. What I had thought in the darkness might be a zeppelin was actually a wooden hull of respectable size. I'm not very familiar with sailing ships but I've seen the Unicorn at Dundee (not the HMS Unicorn, as that distinction was passed to later vessels of the same name in the Royal Navy) and this craft was of a similar size - large enough to be useful.

I have to admit, a sailing ships with wings wasn't quite what I had expected, but but I should be used to that by now.

Wardes landed us on the deck (I absolutely have to learn that spell, flying is awesome), disturbing a sailor who had been asleep on the deck. Hopefully he hadn't been on watch or it would speak poorly of the crew's discipline. "What are you doing!" he cried out in alarm at the sudden arrival of three stages.

"Where's your captain?" Wardes demanded, lowering Louise to the ground.

The sailor stood, revealing a bottle in his hand. He wasn't too steady on his feet, indicating both the bottle's contents and that he had consumed a good measure of it. "He's sleeping. Come back in the morning."

Wardes pointed his wand at the man's face. "You want a noble to repeat his words?" he asked imperiously. "I said get the captain!"

The man all but soiled himself. "A n-noble!"

He ran below the deck and returned only moments later with a sleepy-looking older man clad only in a nightshirt, seaboots and a tricorne hat. "What do you want?" the captain asked suspiciously.

"I am Captain Wardes, leader of Her Highness' Gryphon Knights. Cast off immediately for Albion."

"W-what? That's madness! ...my lord," the older man protested, tagging on the honorific at the end.

"I am here on Her Highness' orders. Are you refusing her will?" Wardes insisted.

I turned and looked over the side, not wanting to lower my guard. I could see no sign of the enemy mage or of pursuit from the town.

"It's not a matter of being willing, the ship simply can't depart until morning," the Captain clarified hastily. "We don't have enough wind stones aboard to carry us to Albion at this time. When the sun rises, the distance will have shortened enough to make up the difference."

Wardes shook his head. "I am a square wind mage, I can make up any shortfall you suffer but haste is imperative."

The captain looked around his crew, several of whom had reached the deck, apparently curious about the cause of the disturbance. "Very well then. You will have to pay though."

I tuned out the resultant bargainining and moved closer to Louise. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I wasn't the one who was injured."

"It was a powerful spell," I agreed in a neutral voice. It was also the first time that anything had ever penetrated my shields. While I hadn't gone out of my way to test their limits, I had known there would be one. It was still a bit of a shock for it to happen though."

"He must have been one of Albion's nobles," Louise told me. "I can't believe that they would have turned on their King like this."

I couldn't believe it didn't happen more often. I mean, it was only in the last couple of hundred years that we stopped having rebellions back home (by which I mean Britain, not the rest of the world). I couldn't think of a century between the eleventh and eighteenth that there weren't serious uprisings. Several of which had succeeded.

Come to think of it, that was probably one reason that our aristocracy was so well behaved these days in comparison to that I saw in Halkegina.

When Louise saw that I wasn't about to reply to her comment, she sat down with her back to one of the bulwarks and closed her eyes. I sat next to her and relaxed a little. It seemed likely that we were safe enough until we reached Albion, which would be several hours. Within a few minutes I was asleep as well.

Oh what a fool I am.

.oOo.

"Ship approaching starboard side!"

The shout tore me from sleep, not due to any particular volume (sailors, I have found, bellow as a matter of course in order that they be heard over the noises of a ship at work) but due to the note of concern in the declaration.

To my surprise I found that at some point during the night, someone had draped a cloak over the two of us like a blanket. At a guess, it must have been Wardes - it was certainly his cloak. Louise began to stir as I slipped out from under the cloak. We must have been quite high in the sky because when I looked forward over the prow of the ship, I could see a wall of white that could only have been clouds. Up above them, as though supported by their insubstantial mass, were tall cliffs. Albion, no doubt.

Turning to my right I could see that there was indeed a larger vessel approaching. And while our own ship was a cargo vessel, broad and efficient, this one had rakish lines and as I watched, ports opened along it's left flank, the muzzles of what were evidently cannon appearing sharply out of each. I reckoned there to be at least twenty of them.

"Not good," Wardes said from behind me. I turned and saw he was addressing the Captain. "A rebel.. or is that a noble vessel?"

The captain shook his head. "That ship doesn't fly the flag of any nation. I presume that milord realises the significance."

"Pirates," Wardes growled in distaste.

"Bear away!" the Captain ordered the helmsman. "Full speed."

There was a booming noise from the black-painted warship as I felt our own vessel shift slightly and an instant later a cannonball flickered through my field of vision before vanishing through the clouds. The proverbial shot across our bow.

"What's happening?" Louise had been brought to full wakefulness by the sound of the cannon and now came to her feet, bundling Wardes' cloak in front of her.

"We're being attacked by pirates."

"Really?"

"Really," I nodded.

For the first time, the other ship offered communication, signal flags appearing at one of their masts. "They're ordering us to stop, captain," reported a lookout nervously.

The man gave Wardes a helpless look. "We don't have the windstones for an extended run," he reminded the noble. "And they already have our range."

"I've done as much as I can getting us here," the viscount affirmed ruefully. "We can only do what they say."

Louise pulled out her wand but I caught her wrist. "Tempting, but no," I told her.

"I could smash their wooden hull," she insisted.

"I've no doubt of it. But unless you know a exact place to hit that will wreck them immediately then they will be able to return fire with their cannon. And they may have their own mages. It's entirely possible that both vessels will be destroyed, killing everyone."

"Then what can we do?"

Wardes pointed down the ship to where his gryphon had slumped over, a puff of smoke visible around the creature. "I would suggest flying swiftly for Albion ourselves, but it would seem that that option is denied to us," he told Louise. "That was a sleeping spell, so they do have at least one mage with them."

As we watched helplessly, the other ship came aside, cannon still run out menacingly. Lines were cast aboard and within moments dozens of men had swarmed aboard, each armed with a sword or a cutlass. They spread out without instruction, clearly following a well practised plan, to secure the ship. The largest group approached the quarterdeck, led by tanned man with an eyepatch. He had his dirt-stained dress shirt unbuttoned and pulled the look off far better than Guiche did.

"Where's the captain?" the pirate demanded roughly.

The poor man stepped foward, visibly shaking. "That would be myself."

With snakelike speed the pirate smacked him in the face with the basket hilt of his cutlass - not fiercely enough to knock him down, but sufficiently to knock the captain's tricorne hat from his head. Stabbing the weapon's point into the hat, he flipped it up, caught it and then placed it on his head at a jaunty angle. His crew snickered at the move. "So then. What's the name of this ship and what does it carry?"

"Tristain's Marie Galante," the captain replied weakly. "The cargo is sulphur."

"Oho! Well captain, it's your lucky day: you don't need to find a buyer for your cargo. I'll take the lot, at the bargain price of all of your lives!"

Haplessly the sailor nodded acceptance. What else could he do?

Satisfied, the pirate leader ran his eyes across the quarterdeck, his eye now falling on the three of us. "And we have noble guests!" He bowed mockingly. "I think it's plain that such such lovely ladies should enjoy our hospitality." Then he looked closer at Wardes. "Oh wait, you're a man, aren't you?"

The obvious slight - with Wardes' beard there had never been any doubt - failed to produce a reaction so the man moved onto the next target, tapping Louise impudently in the chin. "Still I'm sure that this pretty lady and her even prettier -" He blinked at the sight of Derflinger's hilt behind my shoulder. "- hmm. You're awfully small to be a bodyguard, Missie."

"Smaller than your boat, perhaps."

"Oh, a saucy one." He smirked. "Care to come and wash dishes for us?"

"Get off us, you low-life!" Louise snarled.

The man simply laughed. "Oh, you called me a low-life! I'm so scared." His grin grew colder. "Hand over your wands. And your sword as well, servant-girl. Don't worry, we won't harm a hair on your heads... as long as the ransom money is good."

.oOo.

We were disarmed before being taken across to the other vessel. Wardes swarmed across the rope easily enough but I feigned an inability to do so and in the end a burly pair of pirates carried Louise and I across, accompanied by crude jokes from the rest of their crew. I wouldn't go so far as to say a plan was forming in my head, but I had an idea or two and it seemed best to play the role of Clark Kent for the moment.

For lack of a dedicated cell, we were simply locked inside the other ship's hold, deep inside the hull. As we weren't bound, Wardes examined the other contents with interest: barrels of wine and sacks of cereal were piled around stacks of cannonballs to keep the projectiles from rolling around. Gunpowder was presumably stored elsewhere - if I recalled correctly, there would probably be a specialised room called a magazine elsewhere in the ship, where proper precautions would be taken.

"This can't be happening!" Louise muttered, pulling her knees up in front of her as she sat against one of the crates.

"Pirates have been on the rise since the war began," Wardes told her, striding across the room to kneel at her side. "With the royalist and noble ships concentrating on each other, there isn't much to keep them in check."

"That isn't what I mean," she half-wailed. "Her Highness is counting on me!"

I listened at the door. "We need to wait for the right moment. Your magic will return with rest, isn't that right Viscount?"

Wardes nodded. "Given time. But without my wand that won't do much good."

"Do you need your own wand, or would someone else's wand work for you?"

He gave me a strange look. "Your homeland must be very different. Wands are customised but I can use another mage's wand if necessary. Another wind mage's would work best."

"Well that's..." I cut off as I heard feet on the deck outside. "Someone's coming!"

I had taken a seat on a box when the door opened and a fat man opened the door. Although his bulk almost filled the doorway, I could see a second man waiting in the hallway. Not necessarily a unsurmountable obstacle but it indicated that we were still being treated cautiously. I decided that this was not the opportunity I was waiting for, even though the fat pirate would have been easy to knock down with his hands occupied - one holding the door and the other a bowl of soup. The propect of being fed wasn't a factor in my decision!

"Here's your food," he said bluntly. When neither noble moved, I hopped off the box and walked over to accept the bowl. However when I reached for the bowl, he moved it away. "But only after you answer a few questions."

Louise looked up, eyes red-rimmed. "Ask."

"What business do you have in Albion?" he asked.

"Travelling," my master replied shortly.

The pirate shook his head in disbelief. "Why would Tristainian nobles travel to Albion? Who would you be visiting in that country?"

"I don't have to answer to you!"

"Still pretending to be tough, despite being scared and crying?" he laughed and Louise turned her face away. Wardes moved to shield her from the pirate's eyes and I took a short step forward into his personal space, glaring up at him. With a chuckle, the man lowered the bowl into my hands and then ruffled my hair condescendingly. "It'll do. For now."

I backed up and let him close the door before crossing back to the other two. "Well that went well..."

Louise turned her nose up at the bowl. "I cannot eat a soup made by such people!"

"It's not healthy to stay hungry," advised Wardes and I couldn't help but agree. One bowl of soup wouldn't go far, particularly between the three of us, but it was better than nothing.

"Ellen... you eat." Louise ordered, her face worried. She looked at Wardes beseechingly. "Without our wands, we are dependent on her strength, so she must eat to keep it up."

Thoughtfully, Wardes nodded. "Yes, that might be best. But not all. Take a spoonful at least. We will all need to move quickly when the time comes." He filled the spoon and held it in front of Louise's lips, like a parent about to feed a child. She blushed, but parted them and accepted the food, blushing even brighter when Wardes fed himself with the same spoon (for there was only one). I wiped it thoroughly on my sleeve before finishing the bowl, not wanting to think about what germs might be involved.

"Do you have a plan?" Wardes asked me quietly.

I shrugged and gestured around us. "The walls have may have ears, Sir Wardes. For now we wait." I wasn't sure how far away the pirate's homeport was. If it was nearby, then we might be better off waiting until they reached it. If not, then waiting for nightfall, when most would be asleep or at least weary would be the best time.

Louise looked over at me, "Does your back hurt?"

"What?" I had almost forgotten the spell that had struck my back, although it had not even been a day since the attack. "No, not at all."

"Someone who can shrug off Lightning Cloud..." Wardes said thoughtfully. "I almost pity the pirates."

"Thinking about what they might try if ransom is not forthcoming, I don't pity them at all," I told him.

[Baughn]

..and yet, they let the bandits go earlier.

Under the circumstances, if they couldn't have taken them in the most ethical thing would have been to kill them.

[drakensis]

Sitting with my back against the door I let my mind wander.

I know, I know, it's too little to be let out on its own like that. Heard that joke once? I've heard it a hundred times. I'll probably hear it a thousand more once I'm back home.

Home. It seemed very far away, sitting in the hold of a flying pirate ship. Then again, it really was.

However, I was not entirely focused on feeling homesick. I was also listening and feeling. While the hold had no windows, the ship was not so large that orders called out on the deck were not audible and the planks shifted as the ship began to move once more. Planks creaked as men walked across them...

Don't get me wrong, I'm not some hyper-sensory mutant who can map out every move made within a hundred feet just by listening, but at the same time, I can get a good idea of the general drift of events if I'm paying attention. And there wasn't much else to pay attention to unless I wanted to interrupt Wardes and Louise's 'private time'. Not that they were doing much more than resting, conserving their strength for later, but under the girl code Louise was entitled to at least the illusion of privacy.

However, all things come to an end as I heard what I had been hoping for: noise coming from far enough towards the rear of the ship that it would almost have to be from the stern cabin, that of the captain. The simple fact that I could make out a noise that far back was a good sign that there were very few people between us and the rear cabin. And the cabin was both the most probable place to catch the pirate's captain alone and a likely location to find the wands and Derflinger.

"It's time," I said quietly and stood up. Up above, I could hear the masts and rigging creaking as the crew began to make sail. Another bonus as a good fraction of the crew would probably be hard at work.

"The door's still locked," Wardes pointed out, although he rose to his feet.

I picked out the particular beam of the door that the latch was fitted to and drew back my hand, waiting the moment. Above us, one of the sails unfolded with a crash, mostly masking the sound of my hand driving through the wood and breaking off the latch and its associated padlock. As I pushed the door back I couldn't resist looking back just long enough to wink at Wardes.

"I stand corrected," he admitted and followed me out into the narrow passage that led back from the hold into a cramped room almost entirely filled by a narrow table with battered wooden chairs along either side. Behind the chairs, against the hull of the ship were cabins that can't have been much bigger than rabbit hutches. Rather than trying to shuffle behind the chairs, I bounded up onto the table and ran along it to the door at the far end, leaving Wardes to take the slower route as even stooped he couldn't have made his way between table and ceilling. Speed mattered now.

I had just reached the end of the table when the door at the far end opened to reveal the quizzical face of the pirate who had first confronted us on the Marie Galante. "What are you -?" he started to ask and then realised the situation and his hand darted for the cane at his side, which to judge by the gaudy crystal at the top of it, was more than likely his wand.

He was too late and I cannoned into him, arms folded in front of my face as the tackle caught him below the ribs and blasted the air from his lungs, stifling the call for help that would have been a bit of a problem for is. He went flying back into into the next room, which was crammed with an even larger table and two of the ship's cannon on either side. Somehow there was also room for a cot and for a case of books.

Not that there was time for me to take it in. A second pirate was sat at the table, a ledger open in front of him and having divested my first victim of his wand, tossing it back out the door and then rolled under the table to grab the man's chair by its front legs and heave it backwards, spilling it and him to the floor.

From outside I heard the sound of a brawl and Louise - who must have followed me over the table, jumped into the room, holding the cane in one hand. Unfortunately this put her face to collar with the pirate leader who was back on his feet and saw his wand right in front of him in the hands of a rather small girl.

Naturally, his hands went for the wand. Since I was under the table I could see where Louise's foot went and flinched. That was a deliberate foul blow if ever I saw one and the pirate squeaked in pain. I came out from under the table and caught him by the belt, yanking him around in a short, savage arc that ended flipping him right over one of the cannon and to the deck behind it.

"Ellen!" Louise shrieked and I turned to see that the man who had been at the desk was coming at me with a drawn cutlass. One hand caught the weapon by the blade, runes lighting up on the back of my hand, and my other braced me on the table as I drew up my legs, planted my feet on his chest and straightened them sharply. He sprawled pleasingly and did not move from the floor.

I don't know what disgusted me more: that Louise's scream had doubtless alerted half the ship to our liberty or that in these confined spaces it was almost impossible to fight properly.

"Partner?" rumbled a voice from near the back of the room and I saw a rusty blade half-buried beneath other debris scattered in the fight. Derflinger!"

Unceremoniously I pushed Louise in that direction. "Find our gear!"

Wardes pushed his way through the door, shaking his hand as if that would assuage the pain of punching someone in a place not well fleshed. Probably he'd gone for the jaw - even his gloves wouldn't absolve that sort of amateurism.

"Who are you people?" the pirate leader demanded. He'd found a pistol somewhere and was pointing it squarely at me. There was something about his hair... more than could be explained by the disorder caused by being flung around as he had been.

"Did you think Tristainian nobles would be pushovers?" Louise asked, now brandishing her wand.

His eyes flicked towards her. "Don't do anything foolish. I don't think you're the sort of noble who would be willing to let your servant die." His eyes snapped towards me as I turned to face him. "Don't move - at this range I could hardly miss."

"You're wearing a wig," I told him, realising what was wrong. I could see blond hair in places where the wig had slipped.

His free hand went to the hairpiece and while his attention was divided I jumped forwards upon him. The pistol went off and Louise screamed. Ignoring this for the moment, I caught the pirate by the throat and pinned him up against the side of the ship. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Louise confirmed and I saw Wardes shake his head as well. Obviously the man I was pinning could miss at this range after all.

With my free hand I grabbed the pirate's wig and dragged it off his head. After brief thought I stripped off the eyepatch as well, revealing a perfectly functional eye.

Louise gasped. "Prince Wales!"

"What?"

There was a rattle of feet outside the cabin and Wardes slammed the door, putting his back to it. "Are you sure, Louise!?"

"She is," the man admitted, his voice somewhat choked. "But who are you?"

Louise scrambled inside her blouse and produced the ring that Henrietta had given her. "If you are the real prince then you will know this," she said.

"Captain!" came an alarmed call from outside the cabin and the door shook as someone tried to force it open.

"The Water Ruby!" he gasped. "Then you are from Princess Henrietta?"

Louise lowered her wand. "It's him."

Slowly, I relaxed my hand, releasing the prince. "Well this is embarassing."

"I suppose it wasn't the most auspicious of introductions," he coughed and then raised his voice. "Stand down! That's an order!" Half turning, he tried to discreetly rub at where Louise had kicked him.

Wardes stepped away from the door, which opened to reveal the concealed face of the fat pirate from earlier, a dozen more men behind him. "Captain? Are you well?"

"It's alright," Wales assured them. "These fine people are no longer prisoners but our noble guests."

"Uh... right." The fat man stared around the disarray of the cabin and then moved to help the fallen pirate from earlier.

Holding up his own hand, Wales displayed a ring with the same setting as that which Louise held. "The Wind Ruby, heirloom of my royal line," he identified it. "Just as Princess Henrietta bears the Water Ruby, handed down through the royal line of Tristain for six hundred years. I know she would not entrust it lightly..."

Louise curtsied as if she was in a royal palace. "Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, your highness. I present to you Viscount Jean-Jacques Frances de Wardes, Mage Captain of the Gryphon Order of Knights and Ellen Wright, my trusted companion."

Wales nodded politely to Wardes and gave me a searching look before turning back to Louise. "What service may I offer to your fair princess, Lady Vallière?" he asked smoothly.

From some pocket within her clothes, Louise produced the sealed letter and extended it towards Wales, who accepted it and examined it before carefully removing the seal intact and unfolding the document.

We stood in a strange tableau, the prince, the viscount, Louise and I, as he took in the contents of the letter and his subordinates removed their stunned compatriot to his cabin. I gathered that while his wits were somewhat scattered, he was otherwise not significantly injured. The same was not entirely true of the fellow that Wardes had fought with in the cabin, who was missing a few teeth and would probably be quite upset with the Viscount as a result once he awoke.

The prince's face grew sterner and sterner as he read the letter. I was tempted to read him, but decided that it would not be wise. It was entirely possible that Henrietta had mentioned that I was capable of it, so he might be alert enough to notice it and could take offense.

"The princess is marrying?" Wales murmered, as much to himself as anyone else, though he looked up from the letter. "The beautiful Henrietta, my beloved... cousin." Even if I hadn't already had tacit admission of the relationship from Henrietta, I could hardly have missed on the hint he dropped there.

Wardes nodded solemnly to confirm the message and Wales resumed his reading. When he was done, he signified it with a great sigh. "I understand. The princess tells me that it would be best I do not keep this letter, but that it and another that she has been sent be returned to her by your hands."

Louise beamed with triumph at the completion of the first part of our mission but Wales held up his hand. "However, the second letter is not in my hands at the moment. It is with the rest of my household at Newcastle. So even though it's troublesome, please accompany me there so that I may entrust it to your hands."

.oOo.

Newcastle was built around the castle that it took it's name from, which stood on a tall cape right at the edge of Albion. Wales' ship, which was called the Eagle, approached the last stronghold of the royal family with caution, for a reason that the prince was ready enough to point out.

"The Royal Sovereign," he said, pointing at the vessel that flew abreast of the castle, exchanging desultory cannon fire with the fortifications there. "Or rather the Lexington," he corrected himself. "It was once of the Albion Royal Air Force, but when it fell into the hands of the rebels they renamed it for the field of battle where they were first victorious over us." I would not have believed a wooden ship could have fought such a duel on equal terms, but the Lexington was a mountainous vessel even in comparison to the Eagle.

"It's thanks to the Lexington that the Eagle is the last ship that the royalist cause and it shames me to say that we are no match for it," Wales continued. "If the rebels knew that we even had one ship at our disposal they would have hunted us down, thus the act of being mere pirates as we assault their supply lines. A terribly undignified way of doing war."

"They seem to have the port stopped up thoroughly," Wardes pointed out from where the four of us stood on the quarterdeck. Some short distance for behind the Eagle, the Marie Galante trailed behind us. Wales had been firm on that point: Wardes could compensate the captain as he and Henrietta saw fit, but the sulphur aboard would be not be supplied to the armies of the rebels, whose movement claimed the title of Reconquista.

"There is a secret port," Wales said as the two ships began to descend into the clouds around the base of the flying island. "A mage familiar with the magics of light and measurement, can navigate it if he has a map, and that map was only in the heads of our most trusted officers."

Wardes nodded as the Lexington vanished from sight. behind the clouds. The Marie Galante, far closer, was only an indistinct shape as it followed us. "You are definitely not sky pirates, your highness."

"We are precisely sky pirates, Viscount."

I chuckled. "Airship pirates."

"What was that, partner?" Derflinger asked, having been restored to his usual resting place, strapped across my back.

"Just thinking of a song."

Louise gave me a questioning look at the conversation. "What song is that?"

I hummed a few bars of the tune before singing out:
~" With a crew of drunken pilots,
We're the only airship pirates.
We're full of hot air and we're starting to rise.
We're the terror of the skies, but a danger to ourselves! "~

Wales looked over and shook his head in amusement as Louise took up the beat of the song, clapping her hands. The ship was shrouded in darkness as we sank beneath the landmass. At the peak of one mast, a single light glowed as a marking point for navigation. Guided by this light and perhaps some other magic, Wales guided the helmsman through the blackness, the light at the mast of the Marie Galante following faithfully.

~" Flying Jib is filled with air,
East India ships filled with despair.
We even up, her broadsides bear.
Our cannons flare but it's just a show of muscle. "~

At some landmark I could not make out, the pirnce ordered the sails to be struck, which apparently meant stowing them (nautical parlance is not something I have prior experience of) and the Eagle slowed, coasting to a halt below what seemed to be some kind of a hollow in the island's underside. I guessed its extent at around a thousand feet, more than enough for both ships but it's height was impossble to judge with the clouds covering them.

~" Steady on, she doesn't need to burn.
She tries to flee and she tries to turn.
Grappling fire, we latch her hull.
She's starting to roll, but we've got her on a leash. "~

Ascending, we were suddenly clear of the wet chill of the clouds and above us a cavern that would have dwarfed a cathedral opened, carved from the chalk of the cliffs with what must have been earth-breaking labour. All around us were docks and space for a handful of vessels, more than sufficient to house both the Eagle and her prize, the entire vast cavern lit by some kind of luminescent moss that trailed up the walls.

~" With a crew of drunken pilots,
We're the only airship pirates.
We're full of hot air and we're starting to rise.
We're the terror of the skies, but a danger to ourselves! "~

And thus, with Louise having joined her voice to mine for the last chorus, we arrived at Newcastle' secret airship port. God alone knows what the people on the quay thought of the two ships arriving out of the fog with two girls singing. If we'd been singing something melancholy they might have taken us for ghost ships.

Ropes were flung to secure the ships - far more than I would have expected until I realised that the heavy ropes must effectively support the weight of the ship if the windstones were insufficient for some reason. Even at that, the Eagle probably weighed much less than I had originally thought if the ropes being used were sufficient. A wooden gangway (with rails, I was glad to see) was hauled over by a burly crew and extended towards the ship.

Despite what I reckoned to be a fairly desperate military situation, Wales' appearance at the head of the gangway was marked by cheers from those on the docks. I suppose any victory was a welcome one.

[drakensis]

Although the prince had promised us a feast that evening, which I was rather looking forward to, business had to be dealt with first and after consulting in hushed tones with tall, aged noble who seemed to be in charge of the docks he guided us up a narrow, winding stair into the castle itself and to his own chamber, which was located only a short distance from the kitchens.

Now when you consider what a Prince might have in his chamber, the obvious thought is of luxury that makes Tristain Academy look shoddy in comparison. The truth was very different: Newcastle was a fortess, not a palace and the only luxury that the Prince had claimed was a degree of privacy. His room was small and bare, with a simple wooden bedstead and writing desk. A stool in front of the desk and a leather trunk made up the only other furniture.

Opening the trunk, Wales pulled out a finey wrought metal box and placed it on the desk. Removing a silver chain from around his neck, he revealed a small key that unlocked the box. He blushed slightly as it was revealed that inside the lid was a small portrait of Henrietta. Honestly, it wasn't as if it wasn't already obvious that the pair of them were mooning over each other.

Having removed the letter, he locked the box and placed it back in his trunk. It was plain from the well worn parchment that this was a missive that had been read and reread many times. Wales produced a fresh envelope from his desk drawer and slipped the letter inside, sealing it with wax. "This is the letter you were sent for," he confirmed and passed this, along with the letter we had brought, to Louise. "Tomorrow morning, the Eagle will carry you to Tristain. Please ask Henrietta to treat it as a vessel of her own air force - I will have no further use for it."

Louise stared at him in confusion. "But your highness, did you not say that the Eagle was the last warship that you had?"

"My Louise." Wardes took her hand in his and shook his head to convey that she should say no more. The mage captain turned to Wales. "Is it thus then?"

The prince nodded calmly. "After our defeats our forces have been plagued by desertion, both of mercenaries and of honest men wishing to care for their families," he explained. "Meanwhile, the armies of the Reconquista have only swollen. It is believed that they will attack tomorrow."

"Is there no hope?" Louise asked in a small voice.

"After my father's death I have sent away all who might be able to reconcile with the new regieme. When the Eagle is gone, there will be three hundred of us left in all. Cromwell has placed a price on all our heads, and we will make his soldiers pay dearly for them."

"And how many are within the army?" I asked, my mouth dry. A few thousand perhaps? I realised I had no idea what constituted a large or a small army in this day and age.

"Perhaps fifty thousand." Wales shrugged resignedly. "There is no chance of victory of course, but at least we can die in one last moment of glory for the crown."

Louise shook her head violently. "But surely this need not be the case? The Eagle and the Marie Galante could easily carry all of you away to some other country. I have no doubt that Her Highness would welcome you all, as you... as a result of your being cousins."

"I suppose there is no use pretending on the matter," Wales confessed. "It is plain that you have correctly reasoned that the love that Henrietta and I have is not that of cousins. But it is for that reason that I will bring myself and my woes to her kingdom."

"Your Highness!"

"Viscount Wardes," Wales asked politely, "I ask that you take no offense at this."

Wardes nodded and the prince took Louise's hand and lifted it to his lips. "You are a kind and honest representative of my beloved's heart," he told her. "But you and she must look to Tristain's wellbeing. I do not understand these Reconquista, but I am sure that were I to flee to Tristain, they would bring their armies there to destroy me there. But if I die here, unafraid, then perhaps others will not fear to face them when their star is no longer in ascendance."

My master looked first at her fiance and then at myself when Wardes simply shook his head once more. I spread my hands helplessly. "I'm not a soldier, Louise. I wouldn't know where to begin."

Wardes gave me a thoughtful look but wrapped his arms around Louise from behind her. "Even if Ellen were to block one entrance, the armies would simply storm in through another path, Louise. Even an Elf would die against odds such as this."

"Yes, I must ask..." Wales gave me a quizzical look. "I would never have thought that someone so small could defeat two men without using magic. Even if you did have some help..." Louise blushed at the reminder of having physically assaulted a royal prince. "And to talk as if you could hold back armed soldiers... May I be so bold as to guess that you are not merely Miss Louise's companion."

For a moment I thought that Henrietta had for some inexplicable reason mentioned Kirche's horrible suggestions that Louise and I were 'like that' and then realised it was far more likely that he was referring to the fact that a mere slip of a girl - I was about shoulder high against the Prince, who wasn't especially tall - had thrown grown men around like toy dolls. Which didn't give me any better idea as to what I wanted to tell him.

Wardes cleared his throat before my heistation could become embarassing. "While it would be remiss of me to suggest that there was no more to her than this, I can tell you that Ellen was summoned to Louise's side as a familiar."

"A human familiar?"

"It is written," Wardes said quietly, "That the Founder Brimir's familiar Gandalfr was the master of all weapons. And more than a match for even an entire army."

I could do that. Probably. There might be fifty thousand soldiers surrounding Newcastle but almost all of them would be ordinary enough men. Only the mages and perhaps some artillery would be a threat and if I was the aggressor, hitting them on my own terms, I could destroy them. The thought was like bile in my mouth. Because to do that I would have to kill them. In a small fight, it would be enough to disable them, but to do so under these circumstances I would not be able to strike more than once per opponent - fifty thousand times? it would take hours - and each strike would have to be certain to neutralise them. That would be vastly more practical if I used enough force that every blow killed.

And it wouldn't be enough. I could kill thousands, but thousands more could swarm over Newcastle while I murdered my way through their comrades. So it would be pointless.

"It would be pointless for me to intevene."

"Ellen..."

I shook my head. "No Louise. What happens tomorrow will not be a battle or a siege. It will be..." I searched for a word. "A gesture."

"Exactly. A grand final gesture. Not the exit I would have chosen, but worthy enough," Wales agreed.

"All I could do, Louise, would be turn it into a slaughter." I looked at the floor, not at her. "I won't do that."

Louise said nothing. I said nothing. Wardes and Wales exchanged embarassed glances.

"The conversation really has taken a turn for the morbid," Wales said after a minute. "Please, the feast should begin soon. Death is a matter for tomorrow. Today and tonight, we live!"

.oOo.

Even after all the deaths and defections there were more soldiers left than could fit into Newcastle's relatively small hall, so the feast took place in a courtyard. Trestle tables had been stacked with essentially every decent piece of food left in the castle (the prospects for tomorrow's breakfast were not appealing) and every barrel or bottle in the cellars had been stacked along the wall. Anything that wasn't drunk today would be dropped over the side of Albion to fall thousands of feet to the ground (hopefully not while we were over a town or village) and Wales had made a little speech asking that everyone do what they could to spare gallons of noble vintages from that terrible fate.

I'm not sure that even with all five hundred feasters that such a huge amount of wine and beer could be drunk in one night, but they set out with a will to prove me wrong. I suppose drinking themselves to death probably didn't seem such a worrying prospect under the circumstances.

Only one table was not filled with merriment. The table at the head of the arrangement had large, empty chair in the middle. Wales had insisted on it, and it sat there unused by anyone. It was laid for his father, King James I of Albion. By ancient tradition, the succession would not pass to Wales until James was properly buried. Since the king's body was in the hands of the Reconquista that seemed unlikely to take place and thus James remained king of Albion even in death.

I wasn't particularly merry either, but I wasn't at one of the tables. I'd grabbed enough food to feed four or five normal people and hauled it up to one of the look out towers that overlooked the party in one direction and the approaches to the castle in the other. I figured one person more or less at the party didn't particularly matter but one more person watching in case the nobles decided they didn't want to wait for all the wine to be gone before they attacked might make all the difference.

There were hundreds of people talking, dancing, eating and drinking below me. By this time tomorrow, most of them would be dead. I found it a bit depressing. Sort of like a graveyard with talking tombstones.

"You aren't joining the party?"

I turned my head and saw Wardes' head (still most covered by his hat) sticking up out of the hatch. As I looked, he took another step up the ladder, pushing his shoulders through the narrow space so that he could rest his elbows on the floor as we spoke.

"No, I don't think so." I bit into a chicken leg and grimaced. They'd done something odd involving honey which I personally felt didn't improve the taste. Not that it would stop me from eating it of course. I simply cannot afford to be a picky eater. "Shouldn't you be be busy wooing Louise?"

The knight looked amused. "It wouldn't do to press my attentions to the point of rudeness," he said, affecting an air of innocence. "I believe that I have made my intentions clear to sweet Louise -" (I almost choked. Louise was a lot of things, but I wouldn't have called her sweet.) "- but it is the lady's pregorative to dictate the next step of the dance."

Or in other words he was waiting to see if she would come to him, now that he had caught her attention. "If you say so." I turned my attention out in the other direction. I could sort of make out what I guessed were the camps. The rebels had sensibly not kept their soldiers in cannon range of Newcastle, which made them a little hard to see. Then again there were fifty thousand of them, which is a fairly noticeable amount of anything.

"Are you afraid?" he asked me.

"Yes."

I swear, three days ago I would never have admitted that to anyone but maybe my mother. For that matter, three days ago I was bordering on thinking that I was the next best thing to Superman and the Incredible Hulk all rolled into one as far as the rest of this world went. My shields were just about impervious to anything but magic and I was pretty much confident I could simply take apart any spell that came near me before it could hurt me. I have a magic sword for crying out loud.

"What is there to be afraid of?" Derflinger asked. "There's no one near."

Except if I just rampaged through this world, I'd be acting like one of the supervillains back home. Not the ones who knocked over banks and got beaten up by the superhero of your choice. The ones who tear up cities or countries and leave millions dead. The sort that are so bad that entire teams of superheroes and paramilitary battalions are used to fight against.

Wardes just nodded. "What does a sword know of fear?" he asked rhetorically. "I cannot tell you that your fears are false, Ellen. I can tell you that you do not need to face them alone."

"How very kind."

Wardes drummed his fingers on the wooden floor. "You know, the crew of the Eagle are talking up that song you sang while we were docking. If you were to sing a song for the party I think you'd have an audience."

"I'm not really in the mood for singing, Viscount."

"That's up to you." He lifted his arms and began to work his way down the ladder. "Although if I were going to die tomorrow, then I can think of worse ways to spend the day that listening to a pair of beautiful women singing."

I looked over at the food I'd brought and sighed. "I'll be down when I've eaten."

.oOo.

Louise and I sang together the same song that I'd sung at the ball the night we captured Fouquet. For men about to spend their lives in one last defiant act, it struck the proper note.

I was glad I'd eaten well - the soldiers pressed wine upon me and given that even occasional sips had me feeling fuzzy by the end of the evening, I shudder to think what I'd have been like on an empty stomach. After our duet, Louise had sat next to Wardes so I suppose he had won her over. Perhaps sensibly, they were both being sensible about how much they drank.

"You sing very well," Wales told me as I heaped some beef onto a platter. The cooks hadn't done anything fancy with it that I could tell, so I had high hopes that it would be tastier than the chicken had been. "Do you dance too?"

"Not on an empty stomach," I told him.

He raised an eyebrow. "I saw what you took up the tower to eat. Where do you put it all?"

"Lately it's all gone to my chest," I mumbled around a mouthful of beef. Wales choked, epicly. I chewed and swallowed quickly and then chased it down with a cup of wine. Probably a mistake, no one was watering down the booze at this party. "Excuse me, I think I need to a deliver a reminder of the importance of my Master's virtue."

He nodded as I stood and picked up a lute that had been left aside by a minstrel attached to the royal household who was apparently more interested in picking up one of the cook's assistants at the moment. I'd like to stress that I have not the least notion of how to play a lute properly but with a little fiddling around I could at least figure out how to play a single chord. Repeating that to something approaching a rhythm and you have enough music to accompany a singer. This wasn't exactly Top of the Pops.

~" Two horses trails within the grass,
a gypsy man and his bonny wee lass.
They're heading for the Hedgeford Pass.
'Tis none but the Black Jack Davy!
The moon light glitters like his grin,
The lass lays back and she welcomes him in,
For to love this way could ne'er be sin,
'Cause she now is the Black Jack's Lady. "~

The feasters roared with laughter at the implication of the lyrics. A few couples started to dance to the song. Shame really, they seemed to think that this was a love song.

~" They love all night and with the dawn,
the lady wakes and her Davy is gone
What a fool she's been to have tagged along
And be known as the Black Jack's Lady!
She's gathered up her goods and gear.
Her current path is now crystal clear,
'Cause a vow she's sworn for to conjure fear,
In the heart of the Black Jack Davy.
With stolen horse and a sword as well,
Revenge has cast it's unbreakable spell.
And she rides all night like a spawn, from hell,
On the path of the Black Jack Davy. "~

I gave Wardes a stern look at that stanza and the audience, who had frowned at the rather unromantic turn laughed louder now that they saw I was aiming a message at the Viscount. To his credit, Wardes grinned broadly and spread his hands slightly to acknowledge the hit before once again embracing Louise.

~" Young men, best be strong and true.
Be faithful in the loving you do,
Or else let gods have pity on you,
If you meet with the Black Jack's Lady!. "~

I laid aside the lute and Wales took my arm. "Don't you think you're being a bit pointed?" he asked. "Viscount Wardes seems to be a gentleman in every sense of the word."

"I'm not saying otherwise. However, there are times that a gentleman will give a lady what she asked for even when he would be wiser not to." I smiled at Wales. I could see what Henrietta saw in him. "And being a young woman myself, I have less than total faith in the wisdom of the breed." Then I looked out onto the space between the tables where couples (and in some cases trios or quartets, there being more men than women at this feast) were still dancing. "I believe you offered me a dance."

He bowed. "I believe that I did."

.oOo.

When I woke in the prince's bed the next morning, the castle was on fire.

[drakensis]

"PARTNER!"

It was Derflinger's shout that woke me from a dream that wasn't entirely pleasent. The waking world wasn't much better, the room lit only by flames outside and a looming figure standing over the bed, sword upraised to strike. Instinctively I raised one arm to defend myself and one looking for a weapon.

Fortunately, I had been asleep in the position I had become used to at Tristain's Academy: my head at the foot of the bed, not far from where Derflinger's scabbard hung from the bedpost.

Unfortunately, I didn't get my shields up in time.

"Aaah!" I screamed involuntarily as the sword smashed into my left forearm, slamming the limb back against my chest.

The swordsman managed the beginnings of a startled exclaimation before Derflinger cut him off. And in half. Blood sprayed across the room and no small amount of it onto me.

Rolling left I flinched at the pain from moving my left arm and then vomited up a good chunk of last night's supper over the body. Dear god, I'd killed him. I'd wanted to stop him and no matter what rationalisation I put on it, I'd simply cut him apart without a second thought. I could think of dozen non-fatal ways I could have stopped him but in that initial white heat of panic and pain...

Slowly the realisation that the intruder wasn't the only thing that was badly wrong made it's way through my shocked thoughts. For starters, why had I been sleeping in Wales' bed? Who was fighting outside? How much had I been drinking at the fe... uh, back up a bit? Fighting!?

This was when the door to the prince's room got blasted open by a flying swordsman. I should add that his flight was not voluntary, it was propelled by someone's airhammer. Wardes, to be precise. Not too surprising as I rather doubt there were that many high level airmages running around the castle a couple of hours before dawn. The swordsman bounced off the wall and fell senseless to the ground as the mage captain poked his head around the door. "Your highness, you need to -" Then he stopped talking, probably because he'd just seen me. In the prince's bed. Wearing a bloodstained T-shirt and nothing else. To his credit, he rallied quickly. "Ah, Ellen. Is Prince Wales here?"

I looked around the room. "I don't think so." Thank god. Although come to think of it, if we had... and then he had... I shook my head. Firstly, I didn't think that anything had happened, although the last thing I remembered was dancing with him. Secondly, this really wasn't the right time to think about this. "What's going on?"

"It would seem that the Reconquista decided to attack at night." There was an explosion from outside - it sounded like one of Louise's. "Unfortunately, it seems that the secret port wasn't quite as much of a secret as the Prince thought."

Oh... crud. That was our escape route gone. Then the larger picture presented itself to me: hundreds of enemy soldiers inside the defenses and with most of the defenders drunk and scattered. "Where's Louise."

"Get back!" shouted my master from outside and there was another explosion, this time followed by a cacophony of metal against stone.

"We need to go," Wardes said and grabbed my arm, leading me out of the room without time to obtain more clothes. His cloak was gone, as was his hat.

Louise, when I saw her, was without shoes or even her usual stockings. The girl was panting, her wand aimed down the spiral staircase that Wales' room opened off. "Ellen?" she cried out as she saw me. "What were you doing in the Prince's room?" Her eyes then caught my arm, cut open to the bone. "You're wounded!?"

"That's not important now," I told her. "Wardes, where is your familiar." Without a ship, the gryphon was our best chance of escape from Newcastle.

Wardes shook his head. "He was at the port. I can only hope he got away." He looked around. "Still, with all the soldiers rushing up here, perhaps the port won't be too well guarded."

"But how do we get out of here?" Louise asked. She had a point. The fact that someone had tried to rush us from below suggested that the kitchens, and thus the ground level access, was were in the hands of the Reconquista. The only other door of the main keep was the main stair, on the far side of the square keep. And then we'd have to go all the way around the keep again, just to get to the head of the stairs leading down to the port. Probably fighting the whole way.

"The roof?" I suggested, but Wardes shook his head again.

"Sorry, but they'll have dragon knights in the sky," he told us. "How is your arm?"

"It won't kill me." It had stopped bleeding, at any rate and with my shields carrying the weight it wasn't as if I even needed a sling. Then I gave the wall of the staircase a speculative look. Maybe we had another option.

.oOo.

"Earth mage!" shouted two of the soldiers who had been in sight of the corner of the keep as I smashed my way out of it. There was a third soldier but he wasn't saying anything, because part of the wall had bounced off his head. (Fortunately for his skull and my conscience, he'd been wearing a subtantial helmet). I didn't like the look of the wall above where I'd made the exit - some of the stones didn't seem all that stable and it was entirely possible that the entire staircase would come down as a result of my sudden remodelling - but fortunately Wardes was on the ball and immediately the hole was clear enough for us, the three of us were rocketing across the yard, Louise scattering any opposition with explosions.

I tried not to look too much at our surroundings. Dozens of men and women were lying dead - almost all of them recognisable from the earlier feast. Outbuildings around the yard were in flames, as was the empty throne that had held the place of honour the previous day.

As we reached the doorway that led to the stairs, two soldiers emerged from it. blinking in the firelight. Both wore armour and carried swords - short, stabbing blades rather than the more classical medieval broadswords I had seen in the possession of the royal soldiers.

Without comment or warning, Wardes sent me hurtling forwards to land just in front of them, whereas he and Louise returned to the ground a few paces behind. There was no time for negotiation or an extended combat - already one of the other soldiers in the yard had brought out a short-barrelled musket and as my feet touched the stones, already slick with blood, he fired. The bullet whistled off to who knows where, but where one could fire others would follow suit.

I can only imagine what the two men thought when they saw a small, bloodstained girl flying at them with a rusty blade almost as tall as she was. With crushing force I brought the flat of Derflinger down on the right shoulder of the soldier to the right, buckling the armour over his shoulder and causing him to drop his sword. Then I whipped him - Derflinger's voice was male and thus I refer to him as such - across, smacking the reverse of the blade against the second soldier's helmet.

The first soldier staggered but did not fall like his comrade. Instead he struggled with his left hand to draw a pistol from where it hung on a bandolier across his chest. Given that the weapon was angled to be drawn by the right, this was proving difficult for him and I slammed a sudden kick into his armoured belly. The metal deformed under the force and he doubled up in what must assuredly have been a painful fashion.

All of this took perhaps a second and then Wardes was past me, half dragging Louise behind him. I was glad he didn't have his cloak with him as it would doubtless be flapping dramatically behind him and I wasn't more than a step behind Louise as we raced down the stairs, so it would have been right in our faces.

Twice, Wardes snapped his wand forwards at soldiers ascending towards us hammering them violently down the stairs with gusts of wind. Neither was moving wen we passed them, but with pursuit no doubt only a short distance behind, we couldn't stop check them. After seeing the violence done in the courtyard, I wasn't especially inclined to do so anyway.

Finally we reached the exit into the docks and found ourselves running out into the vast cavern. What we saw took our breath away, even that of Wardes.

When last we had been here, the Eagle and the Marie Galante had been the only two ships present. But now a third vessel was in occupation of a dock between the pair of them, a much larger warship, both sides lined with rank after rank of deadly looking cannon. "Is that..."

"The Lexington!" Wardes exclaimed.

It was clear enough what had happened here: having somehow divined the proper course to follow through the darkness beneath the floating island, the Lexington had simply flown into the hidden harbour and then fired thunderous broadsides into the smaller ships that were on either side of it. Only then had the ship lowered gangways to the docks and disembarked hundreds of soldiers that had been crammed aboard. The air of the cavern was still thick with the smell of gunpowder and hazy with smoke from the broadsides.

A mere merchant vessel, the Marie Galante had clearly not had the ability to survive even a single broadside. Great holes had been ripped into it and now it lay on it's side, masts bowed across the pier as if in submission to its mighty conqueror. The Eagle had survived better: designed as a warship it had stronger timbers and was reinforced with magic to endure just such brutal treatment. Nonetheless, one mast had been torn out of the deck and dangled pathetically from the stern, while the mark of dozens of cannonballs were visible on both sides, shots having passed entirely through the ship, so close it was to the vessel firing them.

Most of the soldiers were gone of course. They had all gone up the stairs that we had just descended and gone about their grisly work. But the Lexington's crew - or some of them at least - must still be here. "Block the stair!" Wardes ordered me urgently. Above and behind us I could hear heavy boots against the stone stairs. Looking around, I saw a rank of cannon lying on the side of the dock, without any form of carriage or mounting. There must have been two dozen of them, enough to outfit an small warship. Picking two of them up, one with each hand (i groaned slightly as my left arm shifted to do so, even though it was not bearing any of the weight) I pushed them muzzle first into the staircase. Then I lifted two more and piled them in on top.

Repeated twice more, eight cannon made a barricade perhaps half my height across the stair. When I came back with the ninth and tenth cannon a soldier was climbing over them to get at me. He paused in astonishment when he saw me standing there, carrying two cannon that weighed more than any two men, and I used them to push him back off the cannon and onto the stairs again. "We're out of time!"

Louise pulled her hand from from Wardes and ran back from where he was peeking around some empty barrels at the deck of the Lexington. She pointed her wand up at the soldier and he turned and ran away without her even having to cast a single spell. Of course, he ran into the soldier behind him and they fell over, but that was good enough to buy me time. "Thank you Louise." Two more cannon went up on the stack while they were sorting themselves out and two more would fill the stair so high that no one could crawl over the top of them.

When I came back with the last two, one of the soldiers was pointing another of those short muskets between the cannon. I couldn't stop him from firing at me so I concentrated on my shields as I lifted up the cannon. They were now so high that I had to lift them one at a time. I had just put one up when the soldier fired the musket.

I half expected the bullet to come apart when it hit my shield but instead it just stopped on contact and fell towards the floor. I snatched it out of the air and flicked it back through the space between the cannons so that it tinged off the soldier's armour. "Don't shoot those useless things at me." Damn, Louise must be rubbing off on me. That's the sort of thing she would say.

.oOo.

"We should head for the Eagle," Wardes decided. "Althought it's damaged, it should be sufficiently intact to make it from Albion to the ground."

"I may be missing something obvious, but why don't we just jump?" I asked.

"Jump?" Louise asked.

I pointed to the clouds that formed the lower surface of the cavern. "We can fall most of the way back down to Halkegina without any problem and then Wardes can use a levitation spell to ensure we land safely."

Wardes nodded. "It's a clever idea, but we would have very little control over where we land," he explained. "Albion is not above Tristain at the moment. We would either land in Germania or in the sea. In the former case, the Princess' letter might fall into the wrong hands. In the latter case..." He shrugged. "We could easily perish. But the Eagle, with it's windstones, can carry us to within Tristain's borders."

"Assuming of course, that a wrecked ship can outpace the Lexington," I pointed out.

"It's a risk," he admitted. "However, we have four advantages. Firstly, the Eagle is an excellent ship and even damaged should have a good turn of speed. Secondly, I am a square mage and can improve that speed. Thirdly, by surprising them with our departure we shall have a head start. And fourthly, with Louise aboard we have a mage more powerful than anyone that they will have with them."

Louise blushed furiously. "Viscount Wardes, you say too much."

"Louise, please, can you not call me by name?" he asked pleadingly.

"Very well... Jean-Jacques. But I am not so powerful a mage as you seem to think."

I looked over at the Lexington. A dozen men were setting off down the gangway towards us. "We don't have long to do this though. I think that gunshot got someone's attention."

Wardes nodded and pointed at the far side of the Eagle from the Lexington. "For speed, Louise, Ellen should carry you. There is a remaining gangway - you see it? - we will meet at the foot of it. Once we board we must leave immediately, because we will be plainly visible from the deck of the Lexington."

The plan would have failed immediately had there been a lookout on the masts of the Reconquista warship, but it appeared that there was none - a fortunate mistake on their part. "This is exciting," Derflinger observed as I sprinted from cover to cover through quays, holding Louise bridal fashion in my arms. "Do you think you'll have to use me again, partner? After so long in that shop..."

"Shut up Derf," I muttered.

"That's Derflinger!"

"Yeah, yeah." I reached the gangway and dropped Louise onto it.

She glared at me indignantly and then saw me cradling my left arm. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes!" I snapped back. "I'm flesh and blood, you know?"

"I'm sorry." Louise shrank back at my tone. "I just..."

I sat next to her, the gangway all that was between us and a fall of... how far? A mile? More than that? "Sorry. No breakfast, it's a bad start to the day."

She nodded. "Do you see Wardes?"

I looked around. No sign of him. "I don't." He shouldn't have been far behind us - I'm not really much faster than anyone else on foot.

"Ellen," Louise asked uneasily. "Can I ask... Why were you in His Highness' bedroom?"

"I really don't know," I confessed. "I shouldn't have drunk so much, obviously. But last night's a bit of a blur."

"He took you there," Derflinger told us. "He would have taken you to your own room but someone else was having private time there and he didn't want to disturb them."

I gave Louise a searching look and she coloured crimson. "Nothing happened," she said, just a little too hastily.

"Uh huh. Some chaperone I am," I muttered. "So did anything else happen last night, Derflinger?"

"I don't know what you mean, partner."

I closed my eyes, counted to ten and then gripped the hilt so tightly it actually creaked. "Did he or did he not 'sheath his sword' in me."

"Ow." Derflinger's voice even sounded pained. "That's a good one, partner. I'll have to remember that. No, nothing like that."

Well that was a relief. And to be honest, just a little bit of a disappointment as well. I mean, a prince... well. there's a certain amount of respect for that. And he was a pretty nice guy about us roughing him up a day or so ago.

"It's sort of a pity, though, I think you'd be good together," the sword continued.

"Shut up, Derf!"

[drakensis]

Fortuitously Wardes arrived before the urge to see if I could snap Derflinger like a twig grew overwhelming. "You move quickly," he said approvingly. I suppose that to a man who rejoiced in the runic name 'The Lightning' that trait would have the appearance of a virtue. For Louise's sake I hoped he wouldn't apply the philosophy to everything in his life.

"I gathered from various subtle hints you dropped that we might possibly be in a hurry," I told him drily.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Well then, shall we make an exit?" He pointed up the gangway. "When we get onto the deck, Louise, we'll need to distract the Lexington. I believe that your explosions should generate enough smoke to win us a few moments of confusion on their part."

Louise nodded firmly.

"Alright. Let's go," Wardes said simply and charged up the gangway. Louise scrambled after him and I followed them.

The deck of the Eagle was a wreck. At least two cannon had been dismounted by the salvo that had ripped into the ship and had been sent crashing along the deck. I was barely off the gangway when Wardes made a slashing gesture with his wand and a razor like wind slashed away most of the cables along the left side of the ship, which rolled slightly until one of the remaining ropes stopped it. Well at least we weren't sinking, although I had my concerns about the stability of the ship.

Turning around I kicked the gangway off the ship. The wooden bridge flipped up into the air and then crashed down onto the quay. There was shouting and the sound of running feet, suggesting that whoever had disembarked from the Lexington had realised where we were, but those noises were drowned out by a thunderous detonation.

Louise cried out as the Lexington was hidden by a pall of smoke. For a moment I feared that the other ship had fired cannon and that my master was wounded, but then I realised that her voice was not pained, but triumphant.

Another shout from Wardes, presumably signifiying a spell to cut the right side ropes. and the Eagle lurched alarmingly before beginning to sink down below the deck, snagging briefly on the remaining cables before they snapped in turn. There was a sharp crack and Louise threw herself to the deck just before one of the ropes whiplashed back across the deck after parting at the far end.

"Sonuva..." I drew Derflinger and hacked through the nearest rope that remained. It would only take one of those at the wrong time and someone would die.

The roar of someone on the Lexington getting their head together and firing a cannon blind was almost simultaneous with a sound like paper tearing. It took me an instant to put that together with the blur passed only slightly above my head and realise that I'd almost been hit. The Eagle was going down now and for once that was a good thing to hear - the deck dropping below the level of the quay made us almost safe, a cannonball shattering half of one of the miscellaneous parts of the rigging (a boom?) and dropping the rest of it onto the deck just forwards of us emphasising the 'almost'.

The fog closed over us, providing the illusion of safety and I hurried over to Louise. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not hurt," she said, climbing to her feet. "Where's W- Jean-Jacques?"

I gestured toward the back of the ship, near the wheel. Presumably that was where the windstones were, or at least whatever controls there were for them. Then again... it occurred to me that since there hadn't been enough of them to reach Albion without Wardes' help, they might be too expended to be of any use now. I didn't recall anyone loading or charging them at this moment.

There was a piercing shriek and I almost knocked Louise over diving for cover before it occurred to me that the feathered monster that was all but mauling Wardes was his familiar and was looking for comfort, not a meal.

"Come on," I suggested to Louise. "Let's check downstairs and see if we can find some shoes." Or in my case, just about any sort of clothes at all. Even a bucket of water would help, the blood was sticky and - ugh - not all mine, I recall. Dare I hope there was a shower? It seemed unlikely, but even if there was, there probably wasn't the time.

"Louise!" Wardes called, beckoning her up to the wheel.

She gave my shoulder a little push. "Go ahead." And then she walked over towards her fiance, a little more confidence in her walk than I had previously seen. Nothing happened last night? Hmm, I had my doubts. I probably shouldn't have had so much to drink. Actually since I didn't recall exactly how the evening had ended, I most certainly should not have.

The steps down from the deck to the inside of the ship were splinters, presumably having been in the passage of the Lexington's initial attack. Not that that slowed me down particularly. The interior looked different - for one thing, even more poorly lit than it had been during my previous brief sojourn on the Eagle, but the damage was also evident. It occurred to me to be profoundly glad that the Lexington hadn't put a cannonball through the smaller warship's magazine. Then again, in the close confines of the harbour, that might have done considerable damage to the Reconquista battleship and stopped their attack before it had hardly begun.

Fortunately there were some boxes that hadn't been damaged and from the looks of them there was at least some food, so at least I wouldn't starve if we wound up stuck aboard for a couple of days. I found a barrel of apples in that was unscathed and munched on my second as I walked back towards Wales' cabin at the back of the ship.

I winced when I saw the dining table had been smashed in two - one of the cannon had been flipped over to land squarely upon it. There were at least two holes in the left side of the ship, indicating that cannonballs had punched straight through the Eagle and out the other side.

There was a chest (sea chest? air chest?) that had been left unscathed but for a few scratches probably caused by splinters, in one of the back corners of the cabin and I was picking my way towards it when I heard breathing from the cot. My first clue as to who it might be was the jewel-topped cane resting against the side of the cot. It had been snapped in half by a section of cannon carriage that had also evidently tipped over the cot.

Clambering over what was left of the table, I poked my head over the edge of the cot. Well if I had to have guessed who would be in the prince's cot, Wales Tudor would have been my first guess. Then again, it had been Wardes' guess when he entered the chamber up in the castle as well look who he found there?

I must be one of relatively few people who have seen the Prince Valiant shirtless and I have to say it was worth a look. Unfortunately it was somewhat marred by the trickle of blood from the goose-egg swelling on one temple - clearly when the cot had fallen, he'd smacked his head pretty hard. "Lovely - this would be a great time to find out the ship's physician was still aboard," I grumbled as I scrambled around to get closer.

Wales mumbled something under his breath as I knelt to examine him. His injuries I mean! Was it the romantic in me that eard the name 'Henrietta'? Possibly.

Other than what must have been quite a blow to his temple, he seemed to be uninjured. Then again, a head injury could be bad enough. He was pretty definitely concussed, which itself covers a range of possibilities, and must have been out for... an hour perhaps? It was lucky for him that any check of the Eagle must have been cursory - it would have been the work of a moment for anyone to bring the royal line of Albion to its ultimate end. Lucky that the ship was for the moment quiet enough that I'd been able to hear him.

His breathing seemed strong, as was his pulse. He had that much going for him. "Louise!" I shouted. "Wardes!" My voice can carry a considerable distance - piercing is the more diplomatic term that's been used to describe it in that context.

There was no reply.

"Louise!" 'Louise!' I repeated myself not only verbally but also telepathically, reaching out to her. I don't know my range but -

Okay, what the hell?

I should at least be able to pick up her concious thoughts! I could barely tell Louise was even there!

"Your master will not reply."

I looked up to see a white masked man standing in the doorway to the cabin, wand already aimed at me. The same fellow we'd encountered at the port of La Rochelle, not even two days past. "You!? What are you doing here? And what have you done to Louise?"

"Your master has come to no harm," the man assured me. "Indeed, her wellbeing is most important to the Reconquista." He did not lower his wand, but he moved it slightly so that it was not directly pointed at me. "You would also be a valued ally to us, not as her Familiar but as one of us. Cromwell, the chosen leader of our movement would offer you his personal patronage."

"Patronage to do what?" I asked, feigning interest. I kept my shields up, cursing the necessity to do so rather than continuing to reach out to Louise to determine her situation.

"Since the time of the Founder, the Holy Land has been barred to mankind," claimed the masked man. "But the Reconquista will reclaim it from the Elves and complete Brimir's great work. When that is done, lost magics will be reclaimed, enabling spells not seen in hundreds of years. Much as I would wish it, I cannot promise you that there will be magic that can return you to your home, but if there is then it is yours and if not then at the least you can anticipate wealth or power in proportion to the unique services that you can provide to Lord Cromwell."

I raised one eyebrow. "You seem to know an awful lot about me."

He bowed slightly. "Our group has great reach and influence. Already we rule Albion, and soon we will reunite all Halkegina as it always should have been."

"You're promising a great deal. I have no way of judging your sincerity, but the fact that this Reconquista is a rebel group suggests you've already broken oaths of loyalty to your king. Why should I believe any oath you offer to me?"

His voice seemed disappointed. "What loyalty do you owe to Tristain? You must realise that the spoiled princess of that country cares nothing for you. Even the girl she claims to be her dearest friend was manipulated to be her messenger. What a caring friend she was, to send an untrained girl into the heart of a war for the sake of a piece of paper. Or is it not Tristain or young Louise that you care for? Were you smitten by the dead prince's charms in his last night alive?"

My eyes betrayed me, flickering towards the cot, and the mage pointed his wand at it instantly. "What do you hide there? Speak swiftly or I assure you that I will destroy the cot and whatever lies within."

"You don't seem able to decide if you're trying to win me over or threaten me," I declared, extending Derflinger over the cot and pointing it at the mage.

"Unfortunately I don't think that you're open to inducement," he said. "And I think that while I have whatever or whoever you've found here as a hostage, you won't try anything rash."

Wow, whoever this was, there were more holes in his information than I had thought. Still, if he thought that he had me under control... I lowered my shields and reached out delicately, just reaching for his uppermost thoughts. I pulled them back abruptly after my first cautious approach revealed a telepathic link was already in place.

"I suppose appealing to your better nature for compassion towards an injured man would be pointless," I said out loud as I attempted to identify the purpose of the link. It was not something that my very limited experience had included. (Very limited, I'd met exactly one telepath that I knew of so far, a non-mutant psionicist who worked for the MCO. I didn't much like him and I guess that the feeling was mutual.)

The mage snorted. "One royalist survivor more or less doesn't matter at all to me, unless of course he's noble. And I doubt a common soldier would be found in the cabin of a prince." His wand began to twitch.

Maybe he wasn't going to cast a lethal spell. I guess I wouldn't ever know.

My various teachers have often had differing opinions on the use of lethal force, but all have been negative to one degree or another. My older brother's was probably the most eloquent, probably because he stole it from someone else: 'Killing someone is a lousy thing to do but it's not as lousy as letting someone else get killed when you could prevent it.' In so much as I concern myself with the state of my soul, I hope he was right.

There are vocabulary issues when it comes to describing telepathic conflict. There's probably a book that would tell me the grammatically correct way of describing what I did next. Basically I attacked the link. I'd use the verb cut, except it was more like pummelling it with a blunt instrument until it broke. Fortunately, it was the mental equivalent of fine china and broke almost immediately.

I wouldn't have been surprised if he collapsed into a coma or even died. I wasn't expecting him to just vanish.

"This is just too weird."

Derflinger chuckled. "Come now partner, haven't you ever seen a magical clone before? It's a nice bit of magic if you want to be two places at once."

"Please tell me that not every mage can do that?" That would be a pain.

"No, it's a triangle spell, maybe a square, I forget."

"What's with all these powerful wind mages running around...?"

I ran out of the cabin and climbed up to the Eagle's deck through one of the holes. It was disappointing but not really a surprise to find that neither Louise or Wardes nor the latter's gryphon were on the deck. How the devil had someone managed to take out all three of them without me hearing a thing? For that matter, I was kind of impressed that they had got the gryphon moved anywhere in a hurry.

The Eagle had cleared the clouds while I was below deck and I could see the coast of Halkegina off to our left. As far as I could recall the geography that meant that sooner or later the coast would change from that of Germania to that of Tristain. I didn't have any landmarks to tell me where that point was though and absent any way to take control of the Eagle I had no choice but to let it continue its slow descent. Only two of the sails were unfurled, so I wouldn't have thought we were making all that much haste, particularly with the mast at the back hanging limp from the stern.

Looking back I could see the massive cloud that must be the underside of Albion. The rather large flying warship that was slowly gaining ground was a bit of a give away. It was too far off to be sure, but it was probably the Lexington. And between the two vessels I could see Wardes' gryphon, improbably flying back towards the enemy vessel. If I squinted I could make out what I thought might be a head of strawberry-blonde hair on one of the riders.

'Louise!'

Again, there was a lack of concious response. It was almost as if she was asleep. Sick with concern I reached out for Wardes instead. I'd never tried this with him, but hopefully he was thinking more clearly than my friend.

He was.

Dear god, his thoughts were clear alright. Terse, disciplined, confident in his victory, the bastard!

It was all clear from even his surface thoughts. The Tristainian viscount was in league with the Reconquista the whole time. The clone that attacked me was his, both times. And now I was trapped on a near-derelict vessel I had no means to pilot while he made his way back to his comrades with the letter we'd been sent for and more importantly, with Louise.

My gorge rose and I barely kept the two apples that I'd eaten earlier from escaping. Louise, to his mind, was the greater prize. I couldn't make out the specifics, but the letters were a political goal. Louise - under his control - was a personal one.

The only fly in his ointment right now was the possibilty that I had been hiding Wales in the cot. He was right of course, but couldn't be sure. However, once the Lexington caught up, it wouldn't be difficult to blast the Eagle and both of us to pieces. I might survive, although he probably didn't realise that - the fall would be unpleasant but as long as I managed to stay orientated, I should be able to swim ashore. Wales would die though.

For a long moment I was tempted, horribly tempted, to root deeper. To wreck his mind deliberately. Only the possibility that doing so might remove not only Wardes but also his familiar and thence leave Louise helplessly falling and beyond my reach deterred me.

Instead I headed down into the hull once more. Wales was a wind mage and more importantly he was the captain of the Eagle. I'd have to try and wake him, see if he could take control of the ship. With that at least there would be some hope.

I couldn't find an intact source of water but there were dregs enough in the bottom of a broken keg that I was able to soak one of the sheets from Wales' cot and use it to clean the blood from his face. As I had hoped, the damp linen contacting his skin was enough to spur the prince towards wakefulness.

"Wha- Who...? Ow!" He reached up to his head, fingering the bruise tentatively. "What happened?"

"Allow me to sum up: the Eagle's crashing down to Halkegina..."

His eyes focused on me and colour flooded his cheeks. "Oh Founder, please tell me we didn't..."

Oh be still my beating heart. He didn't have to make that sound as if I was repulsive!

[drakensis]

"I don't remember," I told him, in what I admit was a rather childish desire to see him squirm. "However, my sword assures me that we did not. Given that you slept here and I slept in your room at the castle, I'm inclined to believe Derf on this."

Wales nodded, looking relieved. "Uh, why are you..." He gestured at my bare legs.

"I didn't have time to dress," I told him. "Let's deal with the higher priorities, shall we? Newcastle has fallen. Louise, Wardes and I attempted to escape aboard the Eagle, unaware that you were here. Wardes has now changed sides, captured Louise and abandoned us on a damaged ship that I can't steer while the Lexington is in hot pursuit."

The prince gave me a stunned look as he took in the information. "I..." Then he shook his head. "Can you see my wand anywhere?"

I pointed out the snapped cane and he blanched. "That's unfortunate."

"I hope that doesn't mean that you can't use it."

"Unfortunately, that's exactly what it means." Wales confirmed. He tried to stand up and would have fallen if I hadn't caught him by the shoulder and hauled him to one of the chairs. "Thank you."

"If you're interested in providing material help, I've got a Master to rescue and I could do with some pants."

He waved his hand towards the chest I had noticed earlier. "There should be something in there. If you would be so kind as to also find me a shirt...?"

It didn't actually take too long to find a shirt and breeches in the chest - while the quality was royal, the selection wasn't. Fortunately, the prince was sufficiently larger than me that I was able to pull the latter over my hips, Wales looking away, redfaced, as I dressed. His ability to look at me, even had he wanted to, was circumscribed when I threw the shirt over his head.

Apparently the brief respite had been enough for Wales to gather his strength because he was able to walk unaided to the door, albeit using handholds to keep himself upright. "We need to check the windstones," he told me. "It's possible Wardes left them alone, not exepcting that you could do anything with them."

"Where are they?"

"Up on deck." He blinked when he looked at the destroyed steps. "Ah. Well that is a small problem."

"Not really." Wales squawked in an indignified fashion when I swept him up bridal fashion and jumped up onto the deck above us. I almost dropped him when he grabbed my ears. "What the hell!"

"Are you an Elf?" he asked me seriously.

Any answer was deferred in response to a piercing wolf-whistle. I spun on my heel (leading to a piteous gulping from the prince, who apparently was feeling a bit dizzy) and discovered that at some point after my returning to the cabin, the Eagle had gained five more passengers.

"Wow, Ellen, you move fast. Although it's customary for the woman to be in the man's arms," Kirche told me with a grin. Sitting on Sylphid, Tabitha (still in her pyjamas) was apparently focused on her book, although there was visible colour on her cheeks. Guiche, on the other hand, was openly gawping at us.

"Kirche... no, I give up." I put Wales down and then took his arm when it seemed that he might fall. "At least this isn't as ridiculous as your previous fantasies." I turned to the Prince. "And leave my ears alone."

"Your strength is unnatural," he informed me seriously. "Is it a form of magic?"

"Natural talent," I replied shortly and looked over at Tabitha. "Not that I'm complaining, Tabitha, but what brings you here?"

She pointed at Guiche... no, at his familiar. "My adorable Verdandi was able to trace Louise's ring."

"Her ring?"

The idiot went into a spiel about how the mole was apparently very fond of precious gems and when it tried to jump Louise back at the academy it had been after the ring on her finger.

"I'm surprised you didn't go to the other ship."

"They shot at us!" Kirche interjected absently as she was looking over Wales. "Aha! Aren't you Prince Wales of Albion?" She shook her head, sending her orange hair shipping around. "My goodness, what with Louise snagging that gorgeous Wardes and now you seizing a Prince, Ellen... What a turnaround!"

Wales cleared his throat. "Miss Ellen and I are not romantically involved, Miss..."

"Zerbst, Kirche von Zerbst." And then she winked. "Of course you aren't." The fact that I appeared to be hanging off his arm probably undermined Wales' claim.

"And if you want Wardes once I'm done with him, you're welcome to his bodily remains," I grumbled.

"Eh?"

"He's a traitor," I explained. "Tabitha, could you and Sylphid get me aboard that ship?"

Wales gripped my arm more tightly. "Absolutely not, you'd be killed!"

The blue-haired girl nodded, although I wasn't sure if she was agreeing with Wales or affirming her capability.

"I don't take orders from you, your highness." My main concern was that Wardes might try to use Louise as a hostage. I'd have to hit them hard and fast, get Louise out of his hands immediately. Of course the problem with that is that I'd probably wind up killing someone, a thought that left me more than a little queasy after what I'd wound up doing earlier in the morning. "

He seemed rather hurt: "I would hope that you would at least listen to reason."

"Okay, convince me."

"Wardes is a square class wind mage which means he's quite literally in his element and he may not be the only mage aboard the Lexington. Even if he is, there can't be less than a hundred men aboard, since it takes that many to sail her with any sort of efficency. You've already been wounded once today," he nodded towards my arm, which had fortunately ceased to bleed. "Do you think you can fight that many alone?"

I thought it over for a moment. "I'll try not to hurt them too badly."

Wales stared at me. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"I'm not a monster, your highness. I've only ever killed one person and wouldn't have needed to do that if he hadn't attacked me in my sleep." It sounded good, even if it did nothing to calm my stomach.

.oOo.

Tabitha's strategy for getting me aboard the Lexington was simplicity itself.

She had Sylphid drop me.

The problem with the cannon mounted on the Lexington (and all the other flying ships) was that the limits of their mounting required them to only be fired within a few degrees of motion. While this could be extended by tilting the ship, in general it left the vessels with a limited arc of fire that for practical reasons they concentrated into a single broadside. Tilting the ship could to some degree extend the reach of the guns but against threats from above or below they relied mainly on mages.

The gamble was that if I fell towards the Lexington fast enough then a mage would have no chance to react.

Well, that was part of the gamble. I hadn't asked Tabitha exactly how confident she was that her familiar could drop me onto a moving target that was a lot smaller than the surrounding sky. I was uncomfortably reminded of a certain line from a book 'I'll bet your life on it'. I was betting Louise's life, and possibly the lives of thousands if Albion exported their war to the rest of Halkegina, on Sylphid's accuracy.

I had a moment or two to think over the potential consequences if the wind dragon's aim was off as I hurtled downwards at a trajectory that my personal reckoning was likely to end in a encounter the Lexington's bowsprit. Not ideal - actually really quite annoying since I'd asked that she aim for the other end of the ship.

Then I felt a gentle push to my back and found that I was headed for the foredeck instead. Ah. So Tabitha wasn't above cheating in a good cause. Nice of her, since hanging around to use a levitation spell meant that she was in range of spells from the deck.

Case in point, the Lightning Cloud that missed me by, oh, three inches or so. If Tabitha hadn't given me a push then my hair would have been on end again. Now where did the spell come from again...

All logic states that when I hit the deck I should have done a fair bit of damage. Actually I just stopped dead, my shields absorbing the kinetic energy without a complain. I didn't even bend the boards.

I rolled and came up on my feet, Derflinger having been in hand for the entire descent. Not that I needed it, since the first idiot to run at me was armed with - no kidding - a belaying pin. How cliche can you be? I hit him just a little harder than was strictly necessary and sent him skidding back a dozen yards to knock over two of his pals, which was my goal rather than being theatrical. Although the way that jaws dropped did suggest that I'd instilled a measure of fear in onlookers.

Looking down the ship I saw what looked like Louise's hair for a moment before a door closed (unlike the Eagle or the Maria Galante, the Lexington had extra levels at the bow and stern, I'm not sure why). Well that looked like an objective to me. I jumped off the forecastle, clean over the three fallen crewmen and landed running, screaming the cheesiest, most outrageous warcry I could think of. (I blame my elder brother for introducing my little brother to the stupid plastic minatures).

Apparently while they had correct surmised that they were under attack, the crew were not prepared for their opponent to be a bloodstained teenage girl, waving a sword as long as she was tall and howling: "Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for his Throne!" Most of them scattered - probably a mix of disbelief and what I was coming to recognise as the usual fear for anyone or thing that might be magical. The ones who didn't were mostly the ones prone to freezing in fear and I simply brushed them aside, albeit with enough force to break bones. An injury now would probably mean not having to kill them later.

There were a couple of exceptional cases who stood their ground. I respect that, but I was in a hurry. Neither of them died, I don't think, but there was a dramatic amount of blood sprayed around after I ignored their attempts to fight back (one with a cutlass and the other with a pistol) and used Derflinger to cut them a few times in non-lethal places (given the rust on his blade, they might have to worry about tetanus). That wouldn't have stopped them of course, but I followed the sword play with snap kicks below the ribs that doubled them up.

I didn't fancy giving those on the deck time to reorganise while I was below deck so as I was passing the third mast I cut at it as hard as I could.

Derflinger carved through several feet of wood as easily as he had a few inches of flesh a second or two before. The upper part of the mast started to tip sideways but it was also moving sideways off the top of the lower section. The crunch of my cleaving the door into the ship apart (a vertical cut just inches from the hinges, if you're interested) was almost totally masked by the sound of the mast lancing through the deck. It continued to topple, ropes snapping in the rigging and deck planks ripping beneath it, as I darted through the door...

...and as far as I could tell into an avian buzzsaw.

I've nothing against animals in the general run of things, but I do take offense at any damn critter that takes a chunk out of me and I'm a good bit less sentimental about killing them than I am about killing people. The next few moments were complicated by the fact that the only source of light was the door at my back and the only thing I could hear was enraged sqawking.

Given that the clock was ticking (metaphorically) I really didn't have time to wonder how Wardes had got his gryphon inside of the ship.

Fortunately for me, the obvious targets were the beak and the talons trying to rend me and since they were being used to attack me, they were naturally the easiest targets. My first cut sheered away the beak and I followed from that by stabbing Derflinger through one forepaw to pin that particular set of talons to the floor so I could kick the joint of that leg with boneshattering force. The other talons raked at me but could not penetrate my shields.

Withdrawing Derflinger, I drew it back and thrust for the throat. The blade sank in below the jaw and I felt it strike bone, sticking for an instant before cutting deeper. I didn't lose my grip on Derflinger as the gryphon collapsed with a startled shriek, but the sword came loose with a horrible sucking sound and I realised that I had not only opened the familiar's throat but also severed its spine. I felt nothing but sympathy for the creature: in the end was it doing anything different than me, trying to protect its master?

"Wardes, you bastard!" I shouted. Even collapsed, the Gryphon blocked most of the room - more than it had before in fact with the wings sagging to the sides. "What was the point in making me - ugh!"

I staggered, Derflinger's point sagging towards the deck as my grip slackened. What was wrong with me? I tried to walk, but my body simply refused to respond, slumping slightly.

"It's called a diversion, my dear," an unfamiliar voice said from the shadows behind me. With the gryphon drawing all my attention, the man must have been standing quietly there the whole time. "Why don't I take that from you?" He reached out and pulled Derflinger from my fingers.

"Partner! What are you doing? Fight him!"

I cursed inwardly, not a whisper escaping my lips. Some sort of magic... the man had an ornate ring on one finger that he kept pointed at me. Some sort of magical item with mind-controlling properties? My telepathy might have been effective as a defense, but of course I had been relying on my shields instead.

"A sentient blade, just as you said Wardes," the man continued, examining Derflinger. He wore a green mantle and a round hat, with curly blonde hair peeking out from under it. "I wonder what she will make of it."

Wardes stepped out of the shadows and knelt at the head of his fallen familiar. He stroked its head gently for a moment and then touched his wand to it. The beak, which had still been snapping weakly, fell silent. The look that Wardes directed at me was coldly furious.

His companion bowed his head. "Viscount, please, you need not vent your grief upon this young woman. It is my own failure to restrain her that is at fault for the loss of your dear familiar."

The treacherous viscount went to one knee. "Your excellency, though the loss grieves me deeply, it would not cross my mind to hold any ill-feelings towards you."

"Your generousity towards my failings warms my heart, viscount." It sickened mine, but try as I might, not the slightest instruction that I gave to my body was causing any response. I tried raising and lowering my shields, reaching out to their minds... nothing. As best I could tell, none of my psychic powers were active at all. 'His Excellency' rested Derflinger on the floor and took Wardes's hand, raising him to his feet. "Come now, my friend, will you not introduce me to this lovely lady of your acquaintance. Even I, a priest, cannot but envy your skill in drawing these fair ones towards you."

"Of course, your excellency." Wardes bowed elegantly. "It is my pleasure to introduce you to Miss Ellen Wright, who is the familiar and companion to my fiancee, Lady Valliere."

The man doffed his cap and bowed deeply. "The Left Hand of God," he said in a fashion that was oddly respectful under the circumstances. "I have heard... so much about you Miss Wright. And of course, your young master. Such a sweet young girl..." He straightened. "But I forget myself. Oliver Cromwell, First General of the Reconquista. I would claim to be at your service, but I fear such gallantry would be most hypocritical at this moment, for it is you who are at mine."

I could not shudder.

I could not scream.

"Kneel please." He pointed at a corner of the room.

I could not prevent myself from obeying! I could not! What was this magic!

"I should add," Wardes mentioned, "That despite their short acquaintance, the Prince Wales seemed quite taken by this young lady."

"Oh? I had thought, given the business that you had set out upon, that his affections lay elsewhere?"

The Viscount shrugged. "He is still a very young man, your excellency. It is possible that since he could not be with the one whom he loved..."

"Ah? Well, if you say so, Viscount. You believe then that the Prince has escaped us?"

"My apologies, but my impression is that she was guarding someone that had been in the Prince's cabin aboard the Eagle. Since he was not found within his chambers in Newcastle..."

Cromwell nodded. "Well, that is unfortunate. However, with the letters that you have obtained there can be no doubt that the alliance between Tristain and Germania will not take place. And these two flowers you have brought us are no small benefits to our cause, Viscount. I believe that the survival of one Prince is not very much to our disadvantage. Indeed, should he take refuge with his young, lovestruck cousin..." He smiled slowly and I wished deeply that I had the freedom to recoil from the ambition in his eyes.

"This is our sacred duty, Viscount, a mission that has been set down for us by Founder Brimir! With all Halkegina united behind us we can liberate the Holy Land from the perfidious elves. Surely you agree that the power than your fiancee and I have been blessed with is a clear sign from the Founder that this is the time for us to act."

His response was a deep bow from Wardes, placing his hand across his chest. It looked as if he had his hand on his heart but from my angle I could see his fingers touching a small item through his chest - a necklace or locket of some kind? "Your Excellency, I do agree. However, I must point out that all the records I have seen indicate that in the end the Gandalfr was unable to protect the Founder from the elves."

The churchman smiled slightly. "That is certainly true, but those same records delinate the previous Gandalfr was less sublimely talented than this one." He turned to me and I realised that I had only thought that I was afraid before. "I look forward to explaining your full capabilities in the future, my Gandalfr."

[drakensis]

I was able to judge certain weaknesses of the ring's effects by the fact that Cromwell did not have me locked away. It would plainly have been preferable for me not to have been in ready earshot of the leader of the Reconquista but keeping me under his thumb was apparently enough to take a certain measure of his attention at all times.

Thus I was standing helplessly on the deck of the Lexington as it limped into Newcastle's publically known port. I could take some comfort at least in knowing that the damage I'd done had been enough to let the Eagle escape. As soon as it was close enough to Tristain, Sylphid would be able to carry the others down to the ground. It did little to help me immediately, but at least with them escaped there was some prospect that rescue might still come for Louise and I.

There was a woman waiting for Cromwell on the docks among the soldiers who had gathered there to cheer their leader. I say among, but without any visible show of authority - not even the cape of a mage - she managed to maintain a personal space a good step in every direction. The churchman-turned-revolutionary held his hand up in silent salute to the crowds as he walked down the gangway from the Lexington, but it was she to whom he directed his first words upon reaching the quay.

"Miss Sheffield, is all well?"

She bowed her head submissively. "All is well, your excellency." I reckoned her to be around Wardes age, clad in a snug black coat quite unlike anything else I had seen around Halkegina.

I had been made to follow submissively behind Cromwell, even having been given back Derflinger as if in token of how helpless I was to make use of the blade. The only bright spot was that I knew where Louise was, carried in Wardes arms a short distance behind me. The strawberry-blonde was asleep, presumably the result of either magic or some kind of a sedative.

Cromwell smiled at Sheffield's confirmation and gestured for me to come forwards. "I was curious to think what you would make of this," he told her. "Please give Miss Sheffield the sword."

Mechanical in their obedience, my hands extended Derflinger's hilt towards the woman and I could swear I felt the sword trembling as the woman accepted it. Sheffield fingered the sword, almost caressing it. "Oh, I see," she murmered. "Quite an interesting little weapon." From the way she held it, I doubted that I would be getting it back.

Sheffield's eyes flickered to me. "Poor little Gandalfr," she said with clearly feigned sympathy. "You don't even know what you are, do you?"

This would have been a lovely moment for snarky riposte, but unfortunately my lips were sealed.

She laughed, a tinkling sound entirely at odds with the circumstances and patted me on the cheek. "What will you do with her, your excellency?"

"Miss Sheffield, what would any self-respecting general do with a soldier who can destroy an army? I am sure that Miss Ellen can be made sufficiently compliant although it would be helpful if direct control could be delegated to another." He gestured helplessly. "The council of nobles will doubtless require much of my time in the next few days."

Sheffield looked thoughtful. "I believe that that will be feasible, your excellency, if you have a candidate in mind."

"Perhaps our new associate would be willing to serve you in this matter," Wardes suggested diffidently.

"If you believe that she would be reliable in this matter..."

Wardes nodded and I wondered who he meant. There was a horrible possibility that he had got to Louise somehow, but I couldn't see her being willing to serve Cromwell when the man was evidently about to invade her homeland. I had to wonder then, who did Wardes have in mind?

"Very good then," Cromwell continued. "Setting that matter aside for the moment, it seems that we will be invading Tristain earlier rather than later. Miss Sheffield, I believe that you can arrange for these letters to be placed into the proper hands to ensure that Tristain stands alone?" He handed over two familiar looking letters and the woman perused them quickly. "If validation is required, then we also possess Princess Henrietta's ring which can added to the evidence."

Sheffield folded the letters and looked up. "That might be prudent, your excellency. Subtlety can be wasted upon Germanians."

Cromwell handed over the Water Ruby to her, before turning to his other companion. "Viscount Wardes, I realise that you will want to spend time with your fiancee, but I also require that you take a place amongst the dragon knights in the campaign. Forgive my insensitivity in asking this after the loss of your familiar."

"It shall be as you desire," Wardes agreed coolly. "If you will excuse me then, I will need a few days to establish a suitable household for my bride-to-be."

"Oh, by all means." Cromwell waved him off. "The Lexington will require some time for repairs in any event."

Wardes made his departure, still carrying the slumbering Louise.

That's twice you've taken her away from me, Jean-Jacques Wardes. There won't be a third time, I swore. I could only pray that my oath was not empty.

.oOo.

When my presence grew too much of a bother for him, Cromwell ordered a sedative prepared and then simply ordered me to drink it. Given that I'd discovered alcohol still affected me as strongly as ever, I wasn't too surprised that within moment of draining the cup, my eyes were closing. Cromwell's instructions to "Sleep now, child," were simply adding insult to injury.

When I woke, I was in a bed - not quite as comfortable as the four posted in Louise's room back at the academy but not too bad either. That could have been a comfort, but I'd woken in a bed yesterday and look how that worked out for me!

The next thing that caught my attention was that I was not alone in the bed.

Okay this was 100% worse than yesterday morning.

I was wearing some kind of linen nightdress and there was a bandage on my arm, over the wound I had taken yesterday morning. Now that I considered it, the fact that it had caused me so little difficulty yesterday was something of a surprise. Granted, I had relied on my shields to move my arm so damage to the muscles would have been irrelevant, but even then the degree of bleeding had been much less than I would have expected, given the depth of the cut. Perhaps the changes I had been experiencing since my arrival had included some degree of regeneration.

The other person in the bed was pressed against my side under the covers, which at least made it easy to determine that it was probably a woman. Taller than I and wearing a similar nightdress. Alright, other than not knowing who it was, this was probably no worse than sharing a bed with Louise.

I was able to open my eyes and even turn my head without difficulty. The room was small and bare - no more than the bed and a small chest of drawers for furnishing, with a small window set up in an angled ceiling. The angle was all wrong to make out any features on the woman next to me, other than long hair, lighter than my own. Hoping that the rest of my movements would be similarly unrestrained, I began to slither towards the side of the bed, raising my shields.

"No."

The word froze me in place and I felt my shields drop. Stupid! Stupid! I should have used my telepathy, tried to block any effort to reinstate control!

My bedmate pulled herself up a little and brushed her hair back. "If you're going to wake me up at this horrid hour then you can at least stay here and keep me warm," Mathilda of Saxe-Gotha - aka Fouquest the Crumbling Dirt - grumbled and snuggled closer to me. I couldn't help but think back to her somewhat flirtatious manner when we'd faced off in the woods... was it only a week or so ago? How much of that had been joking around?

Her finger tweaked at my ear and I realised that someone must have pierced it while I was asleep because I had a new adornment: some kind of earring. "I'd love to know where Cromwell gets these toys," she added absently, as if to herself. I didn't believe for a moment she was letting that fact slip at random - the mind I'd touched before had been like a steel trap. She wanted me to know - or at least to believe - that the earring was something Cromwell had provided and by extension that it was what she was using to restrain me. Whether or not that was the truth... well, that was another question entirely.

"You can speak," Mathilda told me when I declined to comment further.

"I suppose that I should be pleased not to be muzzled," I grumbled. "I take it that Wardes broke you out of your prison."

"In return for my services," agreed the thief equably. "I must say, giving me the one who'd captured me as a lackey is more generousity than I'd looked for from the man." She reached up and placed her hand gently over my throat. "The one who - choked - me - into - unconciousness..." Her fingers closed inexpertly, enough pressure that I could feel the threat though.

"What do you want from me?"

"Oh you're no fun." She removed her hand and then patted me on one cheek before pressing closer and putting her lips almost against the side of my face. "I thought I could at least have some self-righteous justification for locking me away to be killed. Can't you at least beg for your life?"

"How much good did it do the commoners of Saxe-Gotha when your family was ousted by the royal army?"

Mathilda sat straight up in the bed, covers thrown back. "Shut up!"

My lips snapped shut and I lay there, unable to do anything but look up at her as she left the bed and stalked over to the chest, recovering her spectacles from the top of the furniture. Her hands were shaking, I realised as it took her three attempts to don the glasses. Now that she was a distance away, I spotted an earring that she hadn't been wearing when we last met. Given that earrings aren't usually worn to sleep I took that to mean that either she was subject to the same kinds of control that I was, or more probably that the earring she wore was the control for that on my ear. "So you know something of my past," she said at last, voice steadying.

"A little," I admitted. "Look, we both know I'm in your power and that if I see a chance to get out from under your control I'll take it. Just as you would if the situation was reversed. I don't see any point in being dramatic about it."

"It would be terribly satisfying for me." Mathilda stalked back over to the bed. "Finding out it took the Gandalfr to capture me does take a little of the sting away, but the fact remains that once you revealed my face you ended my little reign of terror. I'm rather put out with you."

"What do you you want me to do? Beg?"

"Yes!" she hissed and knelt over me on the bed, putting her hands on my shoulders and then leaning forwards. "Beg me..."

Okay... this was definitely freaking me out. And lest it be forgotten, she really could hurt me. I could taste bile in my throat as I looked into her eyes and saw no sign at all to guide me as to what she was going to do.

"...please don't hurt me..." My voice sounded small and weak in my ears.

"What was that?" She shifted and I felt her legs against mine, she was kneeling astraddle me. What was the crazy bitch doing? I tried to reach out and gather that information - to hell with damaging her mind! - but unsurprisingly, whatever magic was being used continued to bind my telepathy.

"...don't..." Don't what? I wasn't sure.

"Are you the same girl who stormed a warship alone?" she demanded in a low voice. "Are you afraid now?"

"...yes..."

Mathilda laughed and then leant down with snake-like speed and touched her lips to my cheek. "You're a coward without your magic," the mage confided in a whisper.

A shot of anger went through me. "Are you a rapist with your magic?" I kept my voice level and disinterested, pretending that I was simply dropping an act of fear. "I understand it's one of the most common abuses of the so-called nobility in Halkegina."

Wow, it's been about six months now since it hurt for someone to slap me across the face. I can't say I missed the sensation but got her off of me. My other fallback was to see if being allowed to talk would give me enough control of my jaw to try biting her nose off.

"Very well then. Enough games." Mathilda crossed to the chest of drawers and pulled out a blouse, a skirt and some underwear. She threw them onto bed before pulling out fresh clothes for herself. "Get out of bed and dress yourself."

That was one order I would have obeyed even if had been a matter of choice and for the next moment or two the room was quiet save for wool and linen being adjusted. There were shoes under the bed - those provided for me fit poorly. I missed my trainers and the thought crossed my mind that maybe if I asked I would be able to go back to the castle and see if I could find them. Then I recalled that I was a prisoner and a slave. Any concession I received would probably cost me more than I had any wish to ever pay.

"Sit." Mathilda pointed to the bed. She stood with the window behind her, too high to backlight her but enough that the light was in my eyes. "I'm not accustomed to being a leader or a follower but I'm having to get used the latter and I do remember being the former." As a part of the Reconquista and back when she had the social standing of being a duke's daughter, respectively. "You only have to get used to one of these things and - guess what? - it isn't being a leader."

"Just to make things totally clear, you do not have any bargaining power here." There was actual sympathy in her eyes, I thought. Or maybe she was just setting herself up as good cop in comparison to Wardes and Cromwell. "The magical coercion that you are under will, I am assured, ensure that you obey any order that is within your capability and that you will attempt to obey orders that you are actually not able to comply with. It's possible to leave you with some initiative, but because I'm not stupid, I don't plan to do that. In the event that someone else is so foolish as to do that, well, I suggest you remember that Miss Valliere is also in the custody of the Reconquista."

Well that was a subtle threat.

"I don't suppose I could persuade you to just take the damn earring off me so I can make a run for it?"

She gave me a disbelieving look and I shurgged. "Well if I don't ask..."

"No, you can't." Mathilda gestured to my left hand. "Apparently you're a valuable weapon and from what I saw last time we met, I'd have to agree."

"So now I'm demoted from pet to weapon? I hate this place."

"You mean Albion?"

"I hadn't really narrowed it down that far," I admitted. "So are you getting Saxe-Gotha back? Or was getting out of prison the only payment you get for being their minion?"

"You're the one who put me into prison in the first place. Do you really want to remind me about it?" Mathilda waved towards the door. "Come on, let's see what the creepy bishop wants you to do."

"Bishop?"

"Cromwell used to just be a bishop before he founded the Reconquista," she told me.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Is that where he gets that whole Holy Land business from? I'm not really up on the church and to be honest, I don't care very much either."

"Don't worry, he's a pretty typical chuchman when it comes to that sort of thing," Mathilda told me, locking the door behind us.

"You mean he'll preach at me endlessly about the subject."

She chuckled darkly. "I meant he doesn't care much about God either. In my experience, most churchman are more interested in what they can get than in their religion. They're just self-appointed nobles without magic."

"So does Cromwell have magic without that ring he was waving around, or toys like this?" I reached up and tried to touch the earring, but my fingers refused to close on it.

"Churchmen generally don't," Mathilda admitted. "He claims to wield voic magic though, making himself out to be the successor to Founder Brimir."

"So I suppose having the -" I made air-quotes "- 'legendary familiar Gandalfr' would support his claims?"

"I'd suppose so. Although he probably has more concrete uses of you in mind. Have you ever killed anyone?"

I touched my arm where I was bandaged. "Once."

"Get used to doing that," advised Mathilda coolly.

[sewersider]

Hi, long term lurked here, really enjoying this one so far. Never heard of whatley academy before reading this piece so thank you very much for introducing it to me. Looking forward to hearing more

[Ruadhan2300]

gah, way to get my hopes up for more posts

but seriously, Zero, MOAR!
you've really got something going here, please don't forget about it.