A Children's Tale Read online

  "Aye, Cap'n."

  From his belt pouch, O'Fallon removed a rectangular brass box slightly longer than eight inches on the long side by four inches. Pushing a brass rivet, a small wood and brass 'S' shaped handle extended from the side with a pop sound. O'Fallon cranked the handle with a few quick turns until a pair of lights glowed dimly on the faceplate. Below the lights, O'Fallon opened a small panel. Using the few undersized typewriter keys there he tapped out a hailing message.

  "If they be sailin' within range, Cap'n, they'll answer."

  "Griffin here. Anyone found?"

  "Be findin' two an' then some. There be a pair o' steambats takin' bites at us, can ye be takin' a swat at 'em?"

  "Been in a scrape also, as soon as we patch a few holes we'll be underway to your location."

  The four of them exchanged a look, O'Fallon keyed the device again. "Say again Griffin?"

  Suddenly a bullet ripped the opti-telegraphic from O'Fallon's hand. The device showered a bright flash of sparks and electricity before it pitched into the snow. Miles and Angela screamed and huddled close while the crew drew weapons with an eye to the rocks above.

  "Where?" Hunter growled while William eased himself over to the children and spoke quietly to try and ease their terror.

  In answer, a hail of bullets hammered the rocks around them. Chips and splinters of gravel rained down and flew past their faces. Through the chaos, Moira spotted figures just over seventy yards off and upwards among the rocks. With no time to speak, she aimed her long-barreled Army Colt and fired, sending a .44 caliber round towards the rocks. Quickly, the others followed her lead with the sharp explosions of gunfire. In seconds the firefight stopped with acrid gun smoke filling the air.

  William looked up and around carefully, "Them 'bats still there?"

  Moira waved him quiet then nodded over the faint sounds of stumbling in the packed snow. "They be off findin' a place ta lick their wounds. So, they're gone for now. The thing that makes me itch be that they found us here. How'd they be knowin'? Them fliers haven't had the time to set down anywhere."

  Hunter opened the cylinder to reload his revolver, "I was pondering that also. They had to have been waiting, which means we were set up for some reason." He dropped the last bullet in and clicked the cylinder shut. "We'll find out who that was soon enough, once we're back aboard the Griffin."

  William voice shook slightly and the two children sobbing caught the captain's ears. "Cap'n ..." was all he managed.

  A few feet from William, lay O'Fallon face down. A stain of red slowly pooled beneath him in the snow.

  Hunter swore softly under his breath. "William, get your medical bag, we need to bandage him before we can get him to shelter and us away from here."

  William nodded grimly, yet still speechless, and withdrew a small leather wrapped parcel from his shoulder bag before he got to work.

  Chapter 4

  Krumer Whitehorse, first mate of the Brass Griffin, slammed a calloused fist against the rough-hewn table below deck. The opti-telegraphic on the table shuddered from the vibration, rattling its mainspring and battery connection. As if in protest, the brass plated device sparked and shuddered before its faceplate lights grew dim.

  "O'Fallon? O'Fallon!"

  Tonks Wilkerson, the broad-shouldered pilot of the Brass Griffin with his distinctive thin face and hawk-like nose, put a firm hand on the first mate's shoulder. "Don't care a whit if ya are an orc or that Cap'n Hunter left ya in charge with him groundside. Yellin' and beatin' it won't do ya much good. It's got a short in the thing and ya know it."

  "Something's wrong, I can feel it, Tonks."

  Tonks hefted the brass box and experimentally turned the 'S' shaped crank on the side. "Mainspring's still good. Looks like it and a battery wire's gone and got loose. I'll pry it open and see if I can get it tightened down." Tonks glanced at Krumer's deepening frown. "Ya know the four o' 'em been around more'n once."

  "I do."

  "Alright. We only took some glancing shots broadsides from that pirate or whoever they were. The starboard lightning net can't be deployed until we get back ta a port for serious repairs and one boiler's leaking more than normal. Fortunately, we didn't go an' lose anybody ta the broadside we took and we're still mostly maneuverable. It's just we're not gonna be fast about it." The young man scratched the brownish stubble on his chin and walked up the the ladder to the deck above. The sounds of cutting, sawing and other signs of repair were thick in the air along with fumes of tar, hemp rope and sawdust. Tonks emerged mid deck and shouted among the scurry of activity. "Come about and watch her trim, those bow lines are still frayin'."

  Tonks stepped aside then glanced back over his shoulder when Krumer emerged from below. "Setting course, Mr Whitehorse. Hope there's no rough reception waitin'."

  Krumer sighed and glanced out across the billowing clouds, white and fluffy like so much mist on a cold winter's day. The Griffin was higher up than before. She rode the top of the clouds that partially obscured the mountainside below, not to mention any usual flight path of other airships. In the distance he saw the tan, double bat shaped wings and box girders of two steambat aircraft dart up and through the gray and white clouds of a low cloud bank. When the aircraft vanished, his frowned returned.

  "As do I, Mr. Wilkerson. Spirit's willing."

  Chapter 5

  A small fire fueled by a pyramid of cut branches burned bright in the shallow fire. Heat warmed a small tin pot of water held precariously above it by a crude stand. Outward from the pit, a few blankets were laid out just in the glow of the fire. Shadows from those danced against the dried remains of an ancient, overturned maple tree. Near the fire, Captain Hunter dropped a small pile of branches just outside the fire's reach. He then watched in silence while William checked the bandages on O'Fallon's head and right thigh. The quartermaster opened his eyes and managed a weak smile.

  "Nae worry Cap'n, be takin' more'n this tae lay me low."

  A thin smile played across Hunter's face while he reached for a tin cup and a small bag of dried, brown leaves. "Get some rest my friend. Drink that tea William's made, it'll help you sleep."

  Carefully pouring the scalding water from the pot, Hunter mixed it with leaves for his own tea. Returning the pot to the fire, he rose and walked to the edge of the camp. He watched the evening moonlight play across the snow-draped pines. Gently, the wind picked up and a light snow drifted again from the scattered clouds. The forest was moderately thick here and the shadows cast by the moonlight moved ever so slightly. In the distance, a sharp howl from a wolf hunting in the distance echoed in the night air. From behind, a crunch of snow heralded Moira's approach. She paused next to Hunter and tugged her long coat around her a bit tighter.

  "Bugger me, it be cold. How long do ya think we 'ave Cap'n?"

  "A few hours at the least. A day at most. This snow and the whipping we gave them at the crash should slow any pursuit down a touch."

  "It be all disturbin' if ya ask me. Comin' outta nowhere like that, they had ta been layin' in wait. Think they were usin' the wee ones as bait?"

  Hunter turned that over in his mind, sparing a glance at the two children. William had bundled them up in spare blankets. Angela and Miles huddled together for warmth and reassurance, occupying the space between the overturned tree and the small campfire. It provided the warmest place, for heat from the fire reflected back from the overturned roots.

  "Bait? I couldn't imagine why they'd be bait for us. No, I suspect we led them to the children unknowingly." Hunter took a sip of the tea and offered the cup to Moira without a word.

  "Thankee, I could use a cuppa.” Moira took a sip of the hot drink and handed it back. “Followin' or waitin', shame on it either way. It brings ta mind dark reasons why.”

  "I wish I could think otherwise, but it was too convenient. They arrived the moment we brought those two children out of that wreck, something like that isn't happenstance, my dear."

  She nodded slightly in agreement.
After a moment's consideration she added, "Or we be in a bad bargain."

  "Spot on point. I had not thought of that. However, if that's so, I can't figure what their Uncle Ian would get from it since he hired us to find them." Light flakes of snow drifted in the wind to brush his face while he looked up to the cloudy sky. He sighed, exasperation and fatigue taking its toll. "Either way it's something to sleep on. For tonight we'll need watches."

  "Aye Cap'n. Ah'll take first light."

  "Well and done, Moira. William?"

  William looked up from where he sat mending a small hole in a spare blanket. “Aye Cap'n?”

  “Setting watches between the three of us. Moira has first light. What say you? We've quite a lot of night to cover.”

  "Now's fine for me Cap'n. Ya can get some sleep. O'Fallon's only just drifted off a bit ago, I kin watch him for awhile. 'Sides, I been needin' ta mend ma blanket for awhile."

  "Fair enough," Hunter yawned despite his best efforts to resist it. Methodically, he reached down to wind the mainspring of his clockwork right hand. Carefully he flexed it, the interlocking gears within the chocolate brown rhino-hide leather joints protested at the cold. Hunter winced as the temperature and sensation of the cold gears radiated subtly through his arm. “Watch close, we'll break camp at first light."

  The wolf's howl broke the night air again. The trio cast glances into the dark trees around them. Hunter frowned.

  “And by all means, eyes sharp tonight. I don't think we're alone.”

  Embers glowed in the coals of the fire struggling against the chill the next morning. A dusting of light snow added to the effect, blanketing the camp and everyone in it with a touch of frost. Moira cupped her hands near her mouth and blew. Fog from her breath encircled her head while she walked between the lumps of blankets and coats, rousing the campsite.

  Captain Hunter rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Any signs?"

  "A bit o' smoke near the ridge. No signs o' the fliers."

  "Good, with luck we'll put some distance between us and them." Hunter stood and stretched. A bit more alert against the morning light, he knelt and recovered his blanket. Carefully he knocked the light snow from it and rolled it tight.

  Moira, having already packed her blanket, walked over to the two smaller bundles of blankets on the far side of the coals. "Up to it. Let's pack up so's we kin be movin' downslope."

  "We gotta?" Came the little boy's whimpering reply.

  "Aye that ya do, young sirrah."

  While the children rose, stiff and irritable, William stood with a yawning stretch then checked the quartermaster near him. O'Fallon's eyes opened slowly. "Where be we t'day?"

  "Same as day afore. Let's check them bandages."

  Despite the cold of the snowy mountain air, Hunter stepped a few paces away from the campsite into the tree line. Carefully, he scanned the ridge behind and above them. Just beyond the rocks a thin column of gray smoke, barely visible, rose into the morning air. His thoughts turned over the possibilities in his mind. Some concerned themselves with the immediate necessity of a morning meal, while others were not so pleasant. Namely why their attackers were being so relentless.

  "Cap'n?"

  Hunter's eyes never left the ridge line. "Yes, Mr. Falke?”

  "About packed and ready and ... Cap'n? We've had some company."

  Something in the young man's tone struck Hunter as off. In the few years since William had joined his crew, William Falke had displayed a knack for finding the unusual. This time was no exception.

  There in the snow, the young man pointed out the light depression of a pair of tracks.

  "That's a paw print, oddly shaped though. One too many toes for a wolf or cat. The other I've never seen. Where do these go? Have you trailed them?"

  "Only some Cap'n. Picked 'em up outside camp, I did. The big tracks came not far away, watched us a bit then left in a hurry."

  "The other?"

  "Chasin' the first I 'spect. Big cat or wolf. Just can't figure where'd it come from, though. It kept climbin' trees then jumpin' down. Its almost like it was around the camp watchin' us the whole time."

  "That's not a comforting thought. Next time we need to check the tree canopy. We were lucky this time. Had that animal chose, it could've jumped in camp and hurt any of us.”

  “Sorry Cap'n.”

  “No harm done, I never considered it myself, either. Let's return to camp before our friends above the ridge there get the idea to take a walk."

  "Aye Cap'n."

  Chapter 6

  Tonks stood near the starboard railing and watched while four crewmen turned the longskiff loading winches. Suddenly, one of the ropes pulled at a sharper angle than the other four, threatening to snap. The pilot leaned over the rail. Below, the longskiff used by Captain Hunter and his landing party the day before hovered just inside the leather loading harness. The harness was the typical kind, being a wide net of leather straps used to help maneuver such a craft aboard larger vessels, such as the Griffin. The ropes from on deck wound their way up through pulleys and over to the harness itself that cradled the unharmed longskiff. The only two crewman aboard the smaller airship were busy with slowly releasing the air from the longskiff's gas bag. The small propellers on the craft, however, turned far too quickly than they should.

  “More slack in your bag! Cut your engine or you'll snap the moorin' lines!”

  “Aye!” Came the reply from crew aboard the longskiff.

  “Problem, Mr. Wilkerson?”

  Tonks turned to see Krumer Whitehorse approach. “Nay anythin' that some closer attention would cover, sir.”

  “Understood. Anything found aboard the 'skiff?”

  “Some lads went through it close. Blankets and a few supplies are missing, but not all the travel packs are gone. No sign of the landing party yet. The wreck's a mess though, and they found gunshot and other sign of a fight. Got some scourin' that now, maybe make some sense of it.”

  Krumer nodded, his jaw set, his mouth in a hard line of concern. He folded his arms over his chest then tapped a finger idly on one of his short tusks. “Did they find any idea who did the attacking? Same group as found us?”

  “Hard ta say. Plenty of damage from the same kind 'a ordinance that they were usin' on us. Lightning guns and all that. They'll send word when they find somethin' or if somethin' finds them.”

  Krumer paused in thought, watching the crew slowly haul the longskiff aboard. He let his eyes play over the craft from its partially deflated gas bag to snow-covered skids and undamaged hull. “Just the blankets are gone, might mean they are camped nearby.”

  “We kept spotters through the night, but none claimed ta see campfire. A'course the treeline's thicker downslope. If they headed that way, we might've missed them.”

  Krumer swore under his breath a moment. “All of this. This cannot be just coincidence. If those were pirates that happened across us, that longskiff would be missing anything not nailed down.”

  “Aye, true that. Searchers I've got down there had sent word about the lightning gunfire. It was all about on ground, trees and what's left of the Marie Celeste. Krumer, we're bein' hunted. Ya know it, as do I. I just can't tell who they're gunnin' for.”

  “Also, if they were hunting us, why here? Why now? This isn't the most well-traveled flight path for most ships. Cargo ships take the more southern route. News of the Celeste going down wasn't known when when we set out this way. How did these pirates find us or this place?”

  Tonks looked stunned. “Yer not claimin' a spy aboard? Can't be, we've not taken on crew in better on two years, no one'd be disloyal here.”

  Krumer shook his head. “I'm not saying a spy. Like you just said, it couldn't be. We're a small ship and a tight crew. We all know each other too well. I'm wondering what we took aboard. Maybe something in our supplies or any cargo?”

  The pilot frowned. “We've got a tracker on us.”

  “I think so. Worst case, the more elaborate ones can pick up sound like an
opti-telegraphic, but they would have to be nearly as large also. Spread the word, but do it quietly. Search the ship. Something's aboard with us and we need to find it.”

  Tonks nodded with a frown. “Aye ta that.”

  Word spread quietly, yet quickly among the nearly twenty crew members aboard. Immediately all bent themselves to the task. Repairing the damage the Brass Griffin had sustained was important. Making sure they were not being hunted like a rabbit was more so. The more common areas such as the main deck, midship area below decks for meals and crew storage, the hold and so on were searched more than once. Each man and woman took to searching their belongings and sleeping hammock - or cabin in the case of Krumer and Tonks -on their own. Searchers even prowled through the various places for lookouts to stand watch on the bow or above on the gas bag.

  An hour later, the search had uncovered little more than frustration and a growing anxiety that they may be attacked again. Only this time, they would not be fully prepared to withstand it. In the small, plain cabin that served as a common room for the captain and the Griffin's officers' quarters, Tonks lifted a long wooden case that held the bundle of navigational charts for the ship. He flipped the latch open and dumped the contents unceremoniously on the small wooden table in the room. Parchment charts fell out, some partially unrolling. He shook the box twice then, convinced it was empty, set it on the table with a sigh of frustration. Most of the ship had been searched thoroughly, some places twice over and no one had anything to show for it.

  Krumer walked out of his cabin with an expression similar to that Tonks wore. “Anything?”

  “Nay a bloody thing. Krumer. If there's one ta be had, its hidden tight.”

  “Or worse yet, hiddin on the landing party.” Krumer's rising frustration was readily apparent in his voice now. “Which if it is, we cannot contact them and warn them! I cannot believe …”