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UTTER NIGHT. THE TRAMP of soldiers grew louder, then a light began to glow at the end of the side-tunnel they were facing. Romarny gestured Karla to back off and for Rodney to take one side. She took the other, still watching ahead. There were some ten lamps on the move down there, and many shadows dancing ahead. It was impossible to even estimate the numbers coming.
Romarny gestured for a further retreat. They backed off another ten paces.
Then they heard a confident masculine voice. “Right; fourth on the left, so that’ll be the next one, not this one.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but it’ll be this one.”
“Did I give you permission to speak, soldier?”
“Er, no sir, but...”
“But nothing. This book of instructions should not be disputed!”
“Er, no sir, but...”
“I think he’s right, sir.”
“Oh and now we have another expert, do we?”
“Well, I...”
“Have you ever been down here before, soldier?”
“No sir, but...”
“Are you trying to argue with the King’s own book of instructions?”
“No sir, but...”
“Well then keep you ill-informed trap shut, soldier, or you’ll be on latrines!”
“Yes sir. I mean no, sir, I don’t want to be cleaning no latrines, sir.”
“Good! Now let’s proceed to the next turning, shall we?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And stay sharp! If you see a woman in red britches give her no quarter! Surround her! Disarm her! The King wants her alive. Minor injuries I will even permit, but if any one of you should accidentally kill her, you’ll be down the Deeping before the day is done wishing she killed you instead! Do I make myself clear?”
Moving across the end of their tunnel crept a small band of soldiers, looking suitably terrified after their leader’s less-than-sterling pep-talk. They were following said leader: a burly officer with his eyes fixed firmly on the pages of his guide-book.
“Yes sir,” murmured about eight or nine voices.
“Then follow me. They say this is the worst maze in the world. You’d be doomed down here without this book! Ha ha! Good thing we’ve got it then, eh?”
“Yes sir.”
Rodney had seen that uniform a few times before, the “Air Guard”, so called. Attar's military presence on his local airship field, and more importantly around his military airship works. Elite soldiers; except possibly this lot. The thought of becoming utterly lost in a place of eternal darkness seemed to have un-manned every one of them. Or was it the additional thought of encountering a hooked blade between the ribs from the murderous Firetail? Either way, this lot did not look particularly elite at the moment.
The tread and scuff of their boots gradually diminished along with their lights, and Romarny gave a breathy order, “Follow me. Stay close, stay sharp.”
And she lead them straight towards the corner where the soldiers had just passed.
“You sure about this?”
“Trust me.”
They reached the next junction and to Rodney’s relief they turned away from the soldiers, into total darkness. In a brief flurry of panic Rodney reached for her and caught onto the back-strap of her bandolier. She didn’t object. As it was, Karla was already glued to Rodney with a grip of terror.
Rodney glanced back, of course, just before exiting the line they had briefly shared with their enemy. Away down he glimpsed the clump of frightened men and their high-held lamps, maybe only fifty yards away and all stopped to peer around a final corner. Echoing back came the annoyed voice of their commanding officer. “This doesn’t make sense! It’s a dead-end!”
“Permission to speak sir?”
“Shut up, soldier! Are you trying to tell me this book is wrong?”
“Um, no sir, but...”
Romarny sped up.
They moved like this for perhaps two more minutes. It was impossible to tell the passage of time. Romarny was definitely touching the side-walls, checking for any side exits, counting the exits. When she reached three on the right she slowed a little, and it was at this point that Rodney realized that she was finding her way forward by smell. The soldiers had left quite a stink behind them, mainly the smoke from their lamps, and it was this lingering trace that Romarny was following.
Gad! Any minor breeze would have put her completely astray!
Rodney hung onto her, finding it increasingly difficult to trust her.
Two more turns in the dark, three, four, then he saw light ahead. It was a partly closed door. They moved stealthily towards it. Beyond it, electric light again. They had finally reached a modern part of the airship works. Were they close to the King’s mighty dirigible? Was it going to be part of Romarny’s plan?
For a moment Rod wondered what had become of his fancy hat.
She was at the door, peeking out, then swiftly gesturing for silence. Retreating a little, she opened the long pouch she wore strapped to her thigh and slid out two long narrow tubes. One she set into her mouth, the other in her fingers aligned and ready, then she glided silently back to the door. Her eyes fixed onto some target out there, her cheeks puffed up, and there followed the slightest sudden pop of air.
“Ow!” cried a male voice, “Hey quit it!”
“What? I didn’t do nuffink,” protested a second voice.
“Something just stung me ... Aww, I don’t feel so ...” There was a clattering thud.
“Ow!”
Romarny launched herself through the gap immediately thereafter. By the time Rodney had followed her unbidden, the second of the two guards was slumping to the flagstones, his mouth clamped shut by her ferocious grip. For one horrible moment it reminded Rodney of the time he had witnessed a wildcat taking down an unsuspecting rabbit in the woods, except in this case Romarny was not actually tearing out the poor chap’s throat with her teeth. (Close, though!)
“They’ll be out for ten minutes,” she said, springing up, “I’m not wasting my best stuff on them. Come on!”
She moved off at a trot. Without argument, Rodney and Karla followed. He didn’t recognize this part of the airship works but it was clearly little-used; more of a storeroom than the thoroughfare it must have once been. What guided her he could not tell, and now he was out of that stinking sluiceway he began to wonder if it might be possible to bid The Firetail farewell anytime soon and strike off on his own.
With Karla, of course, for her safety, not his own.
After all, the danger to both of them was increased exponentially just by being associated with this wildcat woman. What an ending to contemplate: skewered by some panicking soldier on the very night he had finally, and for the first time ever, succeeded in proposing to a woman he actually loved.
But getting himself away from the Firetail was haunted by one inescapable fact: he’d be utterly lost without her. He and his beau had as much chance of being skewered with her as without her. And if it did come to a parting of the ways, who would get to keep the Charm? And if it then fell into the hands of the King? What then?
All these thoughts were still rushing through his brain when Romarny reached a particular junction and turned sharply down a tiny side-tunnel. It was a low narrow tunnel made solely, it seemed, for the sake of an open drain in the floor. This part of the cliffs was subject to a fair bit of subterranean moisture, he had noted. In places that the walls were slick with water that trickled audibly into drains which ran under covered trenches in the floor, presumable towards the outside world. This horrid little pipe was merely a drain, and it reminded him of another dire spot he'd found himself in on the skyland of Vicaria.
It was much darker in here. The electric lights had been left behind. Ahead, on the left-hand side, Rod began to perceive a series of dimly-lit openings, and the only available illumination leaked through from there. The drain, in fact, had become their best guide. The barely rippling water had become a faintly glimmering fairy-path.
The pace slowed as the surface underfoot deteriorated. The cobbles were of a very old style and rather unevenly laid. Besides, Rodney did not fancy putting his foot into the eight-inch strip of water sliding invisibly beside him. He sensed that he was moving slightly downhill, which would tally with the function of the drain.
Once again The Firetail slunk forward in her cat-like way and he did his best to match her for silence. The worst of it was that the leather in Karla’s borrowed boots tended to squeak, and the steel on the heels clicked on the cobbles despite her best efforts. Romarny slowed down, glanced back, and motioned for caution and a stop just short of the first dimly lit side-tunnel. It was a good thing she did. As she turned to say something an armed soldier suddenly stepped through the opening, loosened his flies and let fly into the gutter, unleashing a loud fart into the bargain.
The three of them utterly froze. If for any reason the soldier had turned his head they would have been undone. But he finished his business without distraction, re-did his buttons, and through great good fortune turned away from them as he returned to the main space from whence he came; presumably back to his post. What was out there?
Romarny glided to the sideway, peeked around the corner, then beckoned them to keep straight on. Suddenly her signal changed. BE STILL! Rodney saw her tilt forwards, listening to two male voices that were speaking just outside.
“Joswine, did you get that order?”
“Er, no sir. I was having a... a quick break sir.”
“Well no more quick breaks, soldier. Our job here is vital. Might not seem like it, but every man counts for the King.”
“Yes sir. And, the order? Sir?”
“We’re doubling our watch. Go wake Kinkaid. We’re charged with securing our entire inner perimeter.”
“Ahhh, and what does that actually mean?”
“It means we will not allow anyone inside that there door, that’s what it means!”
“Alright, sir. And what about the piss-tunnel?”
“The ... what?”
“Ahhhh, the, er, that little tunnel in there.” Rod imagined the soldier pointing back to where he had urinated, “Someone could sneak through that way if they wanted.”
“Good thinking, soldier. And since you thought of it, you can go in and guard the piss-tunnel.”
“But sir...”
“No ‘buts’, soldier!”
“It’s just that... well I was in there but a moment ago and I didn’t see nobody, sir.”
“Good, now get back in there and keep it that way. It joins the main promenade, doesn’t it?”
“Yes sir.”
“That’s your post, soldier. Guard it with your life. If you see any un-authorised persons, draw arms and raise a hue and cry.”
“Yes sir!”
Midway through this, Romarny suddenly and urgently beckoned her companions forward. They needed no urging and got across the gap and well into the dark beyond before the hapless Private Joswine mooched into view, sighed, and tromped away towards the place they had just come from. They saw his silhouette receding slowly, until he eventually reached the far end and stepped out of sight.
Romarny took pains to emphasise the importance of silence, and gestured to Karla to remove her borrowed boots. On they went with even greater care than before. At the next side-opening Rodney glanced in with burning curiosity. It was a short straight narrow tunnel much like this one, perhaps fifteen feet in length, and at the far end he saw enough clues to tell him he was looking into an airship hangar at floor level. Onward. At the next side-opening, Romarny quickly reconnoitered, then they silently slipped past. This time it was only about ten feet long, affording Rodney another brief glimpse into the hangar.
At the next opening the separation was perhaps eight feet at the most, and just visible to one side were work-platforms, stacks of curved wooden components, work-benches and tools, and, by quickly squatting, Rod caught a tantalising glimpse of a very large airship, but not the one he has seen beyond the palace last night.
At the next opening he looked again. Here he could see the full underbelly of the airship and it hung so low they had dug out the floor at some point to allow workmen access underneath. And by chance directly in view was a feature that rather surprised and dismayed him: a sort of weapons platform built just above the ship’s lowest keel. The streamlining had been peeled back to reveal the actual weapons themselves: two oversized crossbows mounted upon permanent swivels; one to the port and the other covering the starboard. He estimated from their size that they would be able to send a fire arrow at least a mile.
Why did such a peaceful nation need such a fiendish tool?
A hand grabbed him and tugged him onwards. He turned, stumbling to catch up, and saw Romarny’s angry scowl in the dark. She had no need for words.
“Are we...” he began to ask as quietly as he could, glancing his eyes towards where the airship lay.
“No. We’re getting outside.”
“How?”
“Trust me.”
He had heard that entirely too many times. What the Deep was he doing following this anarchist? A day ago he was a hero. And now...
“What’s outside?”
“Dozens of airships.”
“And hundreds of guards.”
“We have to try.”
“What about the Lizzie?”
“They’ll have it covered. Not a chance.”
“Go into hiding? The Cheese Nest ...”
“I cannot risk my friends any longer, and ...”
“And you might just be handing yourself right back to King Attar by trying this! Let me try going back to talk to him ...”
“Listen, Rod ...”
“No, you listen...”
“Shut up both of you!” That was Karla, hissing in the darkness, “Let’s get outside and at least see what the Gods supply. Then, if it looks impossible, we’ll try something different.”
“Well said,” said Romarny and Rodney simultaneously, then glared at each other. Romarny quickly took the lead again, “This must eventually drain to the outside.”
#
BUT IT DIDN’T, AT LEAST not in a way they could follow. At the end of their smelly tunnel the running ditch gurgled away down a grating, and they were at a dead end.
“Out the hangar way?” asked Karla.
“Let’s be quick then,” added Rodney, “The alarm could sound at any moment.”
“Agreed.”
They silently hurried back to the first available side-exit. Romarny scouted ahead, then returned. “We’re clear.”
Slipping out into the dimly lit front end of the enormous hangar they flitted towards the cold air of the open night, Karla still padding in her stocking feet. They stuck to the centre of the space, keeping the bulk of the low-slung airship between them and any watchers further in. At the very mouth of the cavern Rodney was at first relieved to see the vast expanse of the Eleanor Fields opening out before him, then dismayed when he realised that they were about one hundred feet above the field.
“How do we get down?”
Romarny cast about to left and right, “There should be a stairway.”
Then he saw the gates. To the extreme left and right of the hangar mouth were tall wrought iron gates barring their way onto a perilous-looking walkway that ran level along the cliff face. The top of the ironwork was a series a sharpened spikes, bent to face outwards. The cliff-edge was treated in the same fashion. It seemed the King’s Navy had no intention of sharing their toys with anyone.
It was icy cold. He glanced around at Karla and tried to give her a reassuring look, although he felt devoid of anything to reassure her about.
“Damn,” whispered Rodney, “We’re trapped.”
Romarny turned to peer back into the hangar. “Not yet, we’re not.”
There were no lights at this end. What little light there was came oozing around the sides of the monstrous ship. To Rodney’s eye it appeared ready to fly, but it was impossible to know whether that was in fact true. It may have needed ballasting, or was conversely short of hydrogen, or missing some vital control or connection to make it airworthy, or any one of a hundred other things.
Oh, and there was an even more vital consideration: no ordinary airship could move at night. Of course he and The Firetail had already circumvented that in their previous adventure, but could they replicate the effect in this totally different ship?
“So you’re thinking of taking it after all?” he quietly asked her.
Her reply gave him considerable relief, “No. I’m just looking for bolt-cutters.”
She gestured for them to stay, then began padding silently back into the hangar, moving directly under the centreline of the ship to keep cover. At which point a loud voice echoed down towards them from the far end of the hangar, coming directly through the gas-filled body of the dirigible and was thus strangely distorted.
“Atten-shun!”
Romarny froze, listening.
“Report, Sergeant!”
The sergeant’s reply was too quiet to hear.
“Well that’s not good enough, soldier! What about the outer end? We’re talking about The Firetail here! She’s capable of climbing that cliff and taking this ship. Is it ready to fly?”
Mumble ... mumble ... mumble.
“Well there you go! A likely candidate! Once she figures out she can reconnect the electrical batteries and start the howlers using the central slider, she’d be off, wouldn’t she?”
Mumble ... mumble.
Romarny turned, urgently beckoning Rod and Karla towards her. As Karla hauled off her boots once again, Rodney hurried to Romarny’s side.
“Are you crazy!”
“Hush!”
Together they ghosted closer to the middle of the ship, even as the odd conversation continued at its rear. Romarny reached the control pod, tucked well down from the bow as they are on every airship. Rodney noted with interest that it had a single ground-contacting wheel set just behind it, and further back he saw two more, roughly amidships, making it into a huge fat tricycle. Wheels on an airship. Whatever for?
Romarny went up through the open door into the control pod. The wooden frames creaked under her weight. The others followed. Romarny was already studying the controls, holding her curious little light and closely shielding it with her hand. He joined her there.
“What...” he began to whisper.
“Hush. See this?” Romarny’s hand took his and placed it on a control, “Central sliders, they send electrical power to the arc-lights on the howlers. Push gently upwards on my call, about four inches. And this one releases us from the hangar rail overhead. I think.”
“You think?” Rodney sounded doubtful.
“Has to be, because I know what everything else does.”
Without another word she went up the ladder at the rear of the cabin and into the body of the ship. As Rodney gazed up after her receding derrière, wondering how she could possibly know her way around, Karla grabbed him by the ear and forced his face back to hers.
“Stop that!” she snarled.
“I was just wondering...”
“Shush!”
Outside, the booming voice continued to boom, but now it was getting closer. As it did, so too did the light of a particularly bright lamp. Or was it two lamps?
“I don’t know why we trust our ships to you land-lubbers,” continued the robust voice of the newcomer, “Problem is we’re all underfunded. King’s too busy trying to be a Science Lord. What we need is a decent war. Alright soldier, time for you to scout forward! Check the gates are secure, rattle them good, then check up the cliff, down the cliff, look for any hanging ropes ... no, no, not with the light! Let your eyes adjust to the night, man!”
The hapless sergeant, presumably the one who had earlier bawled out Private Joswine, proceeded nervously to the outer extremity of the cavern and began rattling at the gates and peering all about. But that was not what was making Rodney nervous.
The senior officer was about to come aboard!
He and Karla hunkered down out of sight as best they could, hearts racing double-time. Her hand found his and squeezed hard. “Sorry my darling,” she whispered, “I’ve delayed you both, and now...”
“Hush, my sweet.”
A heavy foot stepped onto the first tread of the access ladder and they felt the whole cabin vibrate. Too late Rodney thought of his sword, but being so cramped now he had no way of drawing it swiftly. The steps creaked again as the second foot took weight. A gloved hand became visible on the handrail, followed by an elaborately decorated uniform sleeve. A Commodore of the King’s Navy, Rodney guessed by the detail, but he was not entirely sure and besides; this was no time to be entertaining the compendium of his mind!
He gripped the hilt of his sword as he braced himself to stand and fight.
Then the booming voice, suddenly very soft, said, “Don’t try to fight me, Captain Hoverrim, I know you’re here.”