The Sail Weaver (25 page)

“Tris!” the dragon said, reaching out and pulling Tristan against him, his head tufts almost hugging him in his enthusiasm. “You’re alive!” He wrapped a huge claw around Tristan.

“And you,” Tristan said, leaning into the dragon’s embrace. “I thought they’d killed you, I saw you…” He stopped when the tears broke free. “How did you escape?”

“I took one bite of the grapefruit and smelled the poison. It was enough to make me a little dizzy, they took advantage of that and grabbed me and threw me out an air lock. If I had known what they were planning, I would never have left you there, I would have struggled to get back no matter what, Tris, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re alive, that’s all that matters, Fen. I thought
…
” He took a deep breath and turned to the rest of the ship. “Thank you all.”

“You are very welcome, Master Tristan,” Cook said. “We’ve been following the ship, waiting for orders from the Guild or the Dragons, since we happened to be going that way anyway. When
Taminick
brought
Lokey
Fenfyr
to us, we knew there was trouble
brewing.”

“They do have Vermin technology, Fenfyr, you were right. The sails.”

“Not the whole ship? They haven’t slaved a dragon?”

“I think they tried,” Thom said. “But the ship wouldn’t fly for them. They must be lacking something the Vermin have to control the slaved ships.”

“They don’t understand the technology yet. They will, they just need to get to the pirates with Vermin vessels. They will be able to tell them how to override the dragon,” Cook said.

“That’s why they are headed there, then?” Thom asked.

“Whatever it is, we will stop them, Tommy Boy, but first you two need rest, medical attention and food, then we can have a small council of war.”

“I need a secure line to the Guild, is that possible?” Tristan asked, still leaning against Fenfyr.

“I think we can manage that,” Cook said. “This way.”

Tristan followed the man through the ship to the communications room. Cook grabbed a first aid kit from a locker in the room and pressed a bandage against Tristan’s leg. After establishing a secure line, he left Tristan alone.

“Tristan, what the hell is going on?” Brian demanded as he answered the line.

“I was thrown overboard.”

“You were what?” the Guild Master’s voice got louder on each word.

“There was a mutiny. Fuhrman and his monkey, Stemmer, had it planned all along. Brian, they have Vermin sails.”

“What?”

“Vermin sails! They wanted me to fly the ship, but I refused. They are headed towards a gathering of pirates that use former Vermin vessels. I’m not sure if they intend to take the ships or if the ships are actually working for or with the Navy. Either way, the dragons need to know. They have to join the fight, and they won’t with those sails on the
Victory.
I know a lot of the fleet will refuse to fly with the
Victory
now as well, and she is our last hope for that battle. She is the only one big enough to deal with the Vermin Ships of the Line.”

“I know. I’ll get Darius and we will find out where the Vermin are coming through. You stay out of trouble, Tristan.”

“Sorry, Brian, I can’t. I’m on a ship that’s following the
Victory.
They still have Chris Muher and they poisoned Fenfyr, in addition to having Vermin sails and tossing me overboard. No, Brian, I am going after them with this ship. We have to have the
Victory,
and I’ll be damned before I see them fight with that filth for sails.”

“Tristan…”

“Demote me, transfer me, do whatever you want. I’m out here, and we don’t have long.”

“I know, but I get to worry, Tristan,” Brian said softly.

“Yes, you do, and I’m worried too. I’ll take as much care as I can.”

“Dragon speed, Tristan.”

“Get us help as soon as you can, Brian.”

XXV

The high note of the Winds in the rigging woke Tristan. For a moment he thought he was in his cabin on the
Winged Victory
, then he realized the tone was different from his sails and their deeper song. Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling, disoriented. It took several moments for him to piece together what was going on. They’d been thrown overboard, and the dull ache in his leg had been caused by the graze of a weapon. Glancing over at the other side of the room, he noticed the other bunk was empty, the bed made with military pr
ecision. Thom was already up. 
Tristan swung his legs over the bed and carefully put weight on the injured one. It was still sore, but that was all. He decided to skip his morning yoga, and settled for pulling on his uniform and the clean, undamaged breeches that had been left for him.

Walking out of the cabin, he glanced around and spotted a lift in the corner. They must have been given a berth in officers’ quarters. The large table in the center of the room and the doors leading to the officers’ cabins had the same layout as the Gunroom on the
Victory.
He took the lift to the deck. Fenfyr was still stretched along the port side of the ship, his eyes closed as if he were sleeping. It made Tristan worry that the dragon was more seriously injured than he had been led to believe.

“Fenfyr?” he said, leaning against the dragon’s side.

“Tristan! You’re awake. I’ve been worried.”

“Worried?”

“We all have,” Thom said, walking up beside him. “You’ve been out for two days. Fenfyr was sure it was from the magic, but it didn’t stop us worrying.”

“Thom said you made a sail.” Fenfyr moved so he could look at them.

“I did. It was only a small one, enough to get us away from the ship,” Tristan pointed out.

“It was an amazing feat, or so our Weaver tells us,” Cook said, joining them. “Not even Harkins claims to have seen anything like it, and if you know Harkins, he’s seen everything.”

“Even if he hasn’t.” Thom laughed. “I remember he had me believing this story about…” He stopped and turned bright red.

“Now, now, Tommy Boy, are you telling them about the Sirens of the Rim?” Harkins said, laughing as he walked over to them.

“I didn’t believe long, and I was very young at the time.”

“It was fun to see your face, though. Good to see you up, Master Weaver.”

“Thank you.” Tristan frowned. “Did you say something about following us?”

“Aye, we have been, Master Weaver, since you reported to the Guild and Dragons on Terra
Octodecimus
,” Harkins said.

“Why?”

“Why?” Cook repeated. “There was obviously something going on, and they needed someone out here to check things out.”

Tristan looked at them, then over at Thom. “I think I’m lost, I know you aren’t pirates, exactly, but…?”

Thom grinned. “They are sometimes, but right now they have a letter of marque from the Guild and Dragons to hunt former Vermin vessels, gather intelligence…”

“And rescue swimmers,” Harkins added with a snort. “Lucky for you, Taminick was that close. We’ve had to hang back in their shadow, so we would never have reached you in time.”

“I know, she barely did,” Tristan agreed. Fenfyr nudged him gently, without thinking about it he put his hand on the dragon’s jaw. “So you’ve been tracking us.”

“Yes, and the gathering of ships in sector nineteen. All Vermin
vessels. It’s been hard to keep Taminick and Fenfyr from diving in and tearing them apart.”

“You promised we could as soon as you knew what was going on,” Fenfyr said with a huff.

“Yes, and I meant it too,” Cook said, smiling a feral smile. “Although I plan on taking a few myself. Filthy things. Thom said that the
Victory’s
sails are…”

“Vermin bred,” Tristan confirmed. “At least three.” At this, Fenfyr let out a soft sighing sound. “They’ll pay for it, Fenfyr.”

“And for what they did to my ship!” Thom said. “So, it wasn’t only a Rogue they had in the hold, but those sails.”

“The sails had to have been placed onboard at Terra
Octodesimus
or I would have sensed them. After some time, the dirty magic would have built up to a point that they couldn’t hide it any longer.”

“What?” Harkins asked.

“He means that Vermin sails and Rogues stink,” another voice said.

Tristan turned—and stared. “Alden?”

“In the flesh, what’s left of it at least,” the man said with a laugh. “It’s good to see you, sir.”

“So when you left you came out here?” Tristan asked.

“It was just like we discussed, with an additional thing or two. One of the Dragon Corps started a rumor that I blamed the Guild, then they smuggled me out of the Compound and onto the station with the letter of marque in my hands. The
Noble Lady
was waiting for me when I got there.”

“We’ve worked for the Guild before, you see,” Harkins said.

“So here I am, not quite Rogue.” Alden laughed. “It’s actually turned out rather well, they appreciate the Weaver on this ship, unlike some others.” He glanced at Tristan with a grin. “They’ve never thrown me overboard at least. How did the Guild take that?”

“The Guild Master was very calm about it.”

“Which means he is in a rage and all hell is about to break loose.” Alden rubbed his hands together. “Good, we’ve been waiting for the fight.”

Tristan was sitting on the bench by the bowsprit watching the
stars rush by when Alden came and stood beside him. “Can I join you, sir?”

“Of course,” Tristan replied. “The sails are well handled.”

“Thank you!” Alden sat beside him. “I had to do some repairs, and then do the attuning myself. I have to admit, I respected you and your position a lot more when I finished. Weaving is exhausting! I nearly killed myself the first time, and it was just repairing a hole, which is part of what a Warrior is supposed to do.”

“You hadn’t figured out how to attune the sails yet?”

“How’d you guess?” Alden smiled. “It’s still not like flying a ship that the Weaver attunes for me. I don’t always feel completely in control. Luckily, you made these sails, and I have flown your sails many times. Once I managed to attune them a little, things were easier. Still it took almost too long for us to get out on a run. We stayed close to the station, waiting for you to show up. Word had gone around about a planned attack, and we wanted to be ready in case we were needed.”

“Needed?”

“For evacuation, whatever we could do. This crew is made up of a lot of pirates—now former pirates, but they are all Guild loyal, and hate those that use the filth of a Vermin ship. They were hunting the Vermin pirates long before I handed them a letter of marque that makes it far more profitable. For every kill they can prove, the Weaver and Dragon Guilds pay them a hefty sum.”

“I suspect the bounty is even better on the
Winged Victory
,” Tristan said wryly.

“It’s not quite the same. We need the
Victory.
She’s our only hope. When I was first a Warrior, on my first ship, we were attacked by a Vermin scout.” He swallowed. “We lost a lot of the crew, but worse, the dragon that flew with us was… he was taken.” Alden shuddered in horror. “Never again. The
Winged Victory
is our best hope. She can stop their ships of the line, I’ve seen them fight, each ship fights as an individual, not as a fleet. With the
Victory
leading the big ships and frigates of the Navy in a massed attack, we could stop them.”

“That’s a lot to pin on one ship.”

“Honestly, Tristan, there are only a few Vermin ships that are big enough to take her on at all. Think about it, each ship needs a
dragon, how many dragons are the size of the
Victory
?”

“Darius, and a few others, not many,” Tristan answered.

“The fact that the Navy has resorted to Vermin technology is not sitting well in a lot of the stations. I know it was something that was worrying the Guild, that people would do anything to win the war. That’s not as true as we thought. I’ve heard gossip, you know? And they experimented with Vermin pirate vessels, they were talking about it in some of the less savory bars on station. Since I made it clear I hated the Guild for what happened, people talked to me.”

“Until you shipped out with the
Noble Lady
?”

“Surprisingly, a lot of the pirates dislike their fellows that use the Vermin ships. Even if they are outside the law—or even disgruntled with the Guild—it doesn’t mean they accept or approve of what the Vermin do to create a ship. What the Navy is doing now is, in some ways, even worse.”

“What do you mean?” Tristan asked.

“Trying to make it palatable by only using the skins and not the slaved mind—as if that’s better somehow.  It’s worse if you ask me. I’m happy I can help.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know we never really saw eye-to-eye…”

Tristan burst out laughing. “Is that what you call it?”

“That’s what I call it now,” Alden answered, grinning at him. “I’ve learned a lot out here, and you know no matter what an ass I was, or am, I am loyal.”

“I never doubted your loyalty, Alden, never once.”

“Oh, good.”

“In fact, I would have recommended you for the
Victory
if the Guild had chosen anyone else, and I was planning on giving her back to you after her maiden flight. You know I was surprised that they didn’t make you Master Warrior after… after Master
Miri’s
death.”

“No one could replace her,” Alden said softly. “I certainly couldn’t. I belong out here, the Master Warrior needs far more patience than I’m capable of. I’m afraid I would bash the Navy rep over the head in a meeting, and that wouldn’t do any good.”

“They still haven’t found a replacement,” Tristan said. “You never know where we’ll all end up after this.”

“I know those bastards on the
Winged Victory
are going to end up keel-hauled at the very least,” Alden growled.

The call to quarters suddenly rapped out over the ship-wide
comm
system “Ship sighted! Weaver to the sails, all hands to quarters!” Cook’s voice boomed out. “It looks like a scout. We need to take her down. All hands to battle stations!”

Alden stood and ran towards the quarterdeck. Not knowing what else to do, Tristan followed him, hoping he could repair the sails if they were fired on, letting Alden concentrate on the battle. Thom was already there, his teeth clenched. Fenfyr was sailing over the ship, joined by Taminick. It took a moment for Tristan to spot the ship, but once he did, he could tell there was something different about it. There was no way to describe how he knew it was different. It looked like the former Vermin ship flown by pirates—but this was a Vermin ship piloted by the creatures themselves.

“I’ll handle repairs, with your permission, Alden,” Tristan said, stepping up beside the Warrior, and putting one hand on the Elemental Interface. It hummed as it recognized him.

“Thank you, Master Tristan,” he said grimly. “Ready, captain!”

“Take us in!” Cook ordered.

The ship swung about and headed towards the incoming vessel. Before they were in weapons range, the Vermin ship started firing at them. The first few shots were torpedoes, massive metal monsters that headed straight for the
Noble Lady.
The crew was watching, and at the last moment, with a flurry of orders between the captain, Alden and the helmsman, the ship moved out of the way and the torpedoes continued on in a straight line past the ship and off into space.

As they reached the maximum distance of their guns, Tristan heard the order to fire and the
Noble Lady
sent a blazing broadside towards the Vermin vessel. Their ship wasn’t fast enough to turn out of the way of the entire broadside, and he saw several explosions rock the vessel. The guns fired again, this time the Vermin answered and their shot screamed across the deck, tearing holes in the sails and ripping through the metal plating of the deck. Staring across the void, Tristan caught a glimpse of one of the Vermin crew in the bright flash of a gun. It was the first time he had seen one in the flesh, the dark reptilian creature was more horrifying than any description he had ever read.

Tristan immediately turned his attention to the sails. He’d recognized them when he saw them, and felt his mark on their initial
Weaving, so he began feeling the willowisps and tuning out everything that would distract him from keeping the sails whole. He had no sooner repaired the mainsail, than the mizzenmast was struck, some of the metal raining molten drops onto the deck. He was yanked aside, but stayed focused on his job. The sails were needed and he couldn’t let anything break his concentration. As he repaired the tears, and idea struck him and he tightened the weave of all the sails, watching them change in color until they were sparkling with a fierceness he hadn’t seen before. The next round from the Vermin ship only put a small hole through one of the upper sails. Tristan maintained the tighter Weave as he heard the
Noble Lady’s
guns fire again and again. Finally, Thom clapped a hand on his shoulder, breaking his concentration.