The Sail Weaver (28 page)

“That was a little more difficult,” Thom said, wiping sweat off his face. He turned, ready to fight again when pounding footsteps echoed through the passageway. He relaxed when Aubrey appeared. “Patrick?”

The man walked over, blood splattered his uniform. “They were waiting for us. I think we have a traitor in our midst. We should change our plan. They probably have half the crew waiting on the next deck,” he said, his voice so quiet Tristan could barely make it out.

“I agree. Straight to the brig?”

“Yes, sir, but we let the men think we are still going deck by deck. There won’t be time to warn anyone that we’re headed to the brig.”

“See you there!”

“Yes, sir!”

“We got them,” Riggan said, walking up, his sword bloody.  “Sorry it took so long.”

“You made it in time, we’re about to head up.”

Riggan looked at Thom for a long moment, then over at Tristan. “Aye, sir. Understood.”

Tristan had no idea how Riggan had guessed that the plans had changed, but he knew somehow. He could tell when Riggan stepped closer to him, blocking him from the men in the lift and from the door, so that if they were fired at again, he would be in the way of the shot. Tristan was opening his mouth to say something, when Thom shook his head. With a sigh, Tristan held his tongue.

Once they were in the lift, Thom shielded the buttons from the other men and punched the deck for the brig. The lift slid into motion and a few moments later the door was opening—not on the deck the men thought, but on the darkened corridor of the deck that held the brig. Some of the men muttered, but they all stepped out at the ready. Thom glanced over them, as if he could figure out which one had betrayed them. Of course, it could have been one of Aubrey’s men as well. It was a full minute later when Aubrey and his group appeared. With a nod at Thom, they all set out for the end of the corridor, the men moving into the cover of the various openings and cargo, in case someone opened fire.

Tristan’s hands were shaking and his throat was dry. This was the most exposed he’d been in the whole process and the walk from the lift to the brig seemed like miles. There was no guard on the door, he heard several men comment on that in quiet tones. In fact the entire deck was empty.

“They set the trap below us,” Thom said. “We weren’t supposed to jump over it.”

Even so, they approached the door to the brig cautiously. The odd eerie quiet was all around them as Thom keyed the door open. It slid back to reveal two guards. Riggan and Aubrey were on them before they had time to draw their
sidearms
, and then Thom was hitting the button that opened all the cells. Rose Webber was one of the first to come out.

“Doctor? What are you doing in here?” Thom asked as she walked towards them.

“I disagreed with Fuhrman’s treatment of his new… servant,” she said, anger snapping in her eyes.

“Is he still alive?” Tristan asked.

“Oh, yes, I think that bastard plans on keeping him alive as long as possible. He’s even made it impossible for Chris to kill himself.” She frowned. “Are we retaking the ship then?”

“Yes, ma’am. Captain Barrett and the Master Weaver have come back to lead us to victory,” Riggan said, sounding far too happy for the situation.

“You’re enjoying yourself, Riggan,” Tristan said.

“Yes, sir, I am, sir, and wait till we get to the upper deck.” He laughed. “Just wait.”

“We need to deal with the situation first,” Thom said.

“Situation?” Webber asked.

“We have a traitor in our group, somehow they alerted security we were coming.”

Riggan growled. “A traitor? I’ve had enough of traitors.” He glanced over the group surrounding them. “You know,” he said, his voice loud enough to carry over the crew. “I remember when I served with Captain Barrett before, we had a crewman who gave our position away to pirates. Vermin-lovers at that. You should have seen what he did to the man before we could stop him. I never knew you could actually tear a human apart, and then…
then
he gave him to the dragon to finish off.”

Tristan was staring at Riggan, wondering what Thom would say, when one of the men towards the back of the group started edging away.

“Stop him!” Thom called. The man was dragged up before them. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I’m throwing you in the brig for now. We’ll discuss the rest when the dragons join us.”

“You’re the traitor, Barrett. You know the only way we can win is to fight them on equal ground, just because you are a dragon
lov
…” He didn’t finish. Riggan had grabbed him and
thew
him into one of the cells, hitting the close button on the door.

“So, sirs, shall we proceed to the top decks?”

“Are you all with me?” Thom asked the group.

A loud “Aye!” answered him.

“And now,” Thom said, grinning at Tristan, “It’s time to call in Fenfyr and Taminick as well.”

XXVIII

The group gathered in the brig, looking expectantly at Thom. As they stood there, Tristan could see the change in his friend. Thom had always had an easy authority about him, but there was something more. He was in command, and it showed—his shoulders were square and even as they considered the seemingly impossible task of retaking the rest of the ship, he accepted it easily. It was his due, his ship and it was that simple. Thom motioned for Tristan, Aubrey, Webber and several of the freed officers to join him in the small space that separated the cells.

“We are going to need to take the main deck completely by surprise. We’ve locked up one traitor, but he was obviously talking to someone, so I suspect that they are going to start locking down the ship and hunting us sooner rather than later,” Thom said quietly.

“If we can get onto the quarterdeck, we can swing the big guns around to the deck,” Aubrey said. “I’m not sure I want to fire on our own men, but most of those on deck are handpicked by Fuhrman and Stemmer.”

“So you don’t mind a warning shot or two, Patrick?” one of the other officers said with a grin.

“Not at all, Jacob,” Aubrey replied. “Although you don’t get first shot at Fuhrman, you know.”

“I was second gunner under him, I should, by rights,” the man
said.

“Enough!” Thom snapped. “If we can get control of the guns it will help, getting onto the quarterdeck will be the trick.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Riggan said quietly.

“What is it, Riggan?”

“If I may be so bold, sir, there is the private staircase from the Weaver’s quarters onto the deck.”

“He’s right,” Tristan said.

“I heard them saying the doors were all rigged with charges,” Aubrey pointed out.

“Of course they are, sir. I would be a fool to let them into the Weaver’s quarters, wouldn’t I?” Riggan grinned.

“Wait.” Thom turned to Riggan. “Does that mean you have a way to get in and out of there without using the lifts?”

“I have ways of getting around the ship without using any of the lifts or other public ways. How do you think the dragons have been haunting the place?” Riggan asked with a smirk. “I’ll take you all up there, and disarm the charges on the door.”

“That would be helpful. One group can head directly onto the quarterdeck, the other through the maintenance hatchway that services the officers’ lift. It will put you onto the main deck, below the break for the quarterdeck. Can you get them there, Riggan?”

“I’ll take them first, and be back for you in a few minutes, sir,” Riggan said.

“Patrick?” Thom said softly. “This is a volunteer mission.”

“Like I wouldn’t volunteer. But don’t shoot me, okay?” The man laughed and motioned to Riggan. “I need half of this group to come with me. Volunteers only,” he said.

“I’m with you,” the second gunner, Jacob, said. As soon as he spoke, a group gathered around Aubrey. With a quick salute towards Thom, they left the brig.

“Now, Dr. Webber, I want you to stay here until we give you an all clear from the deck. We’re going to need med teams, and having you get shot up in the process won’t be any help to us,” Thom said, meeting her eyes.

“Understood. As much as I want to be there, I know my duty. I’ve served on the lines before and I know where I can do the most good. This is a good defensible position too, just in case.”

“Good, I’m glad I didn’t have to fight you over that.” He turned to Tristan.

“No,” Tristan said before Thom could speak. “I am going with you.”

“If you get killed there is no one to fly the ship,” Thom said.

“If I get killed, it means you and everyone is dead too, Captain, you know that. I might as well be there so we can get the sails up as quickly as possible.”

“Master Weaver…” Thom began.

“Captain Barrett,” Tristan answered, wondering if he would have to pull rank on his friend.

“”Stay behind me.”

“I will,” Tristan assured him. He had no intention of running onto the deck first. He wished that there was a way he could prevent Thom from leading the attack, but he doubted there was anything he could say that would make a difference.

“Captain? Are you ready?” Riggan asked, appearing out of nowhere.

“I can see why the crew thinks the ship is haunted,” Tristan said with a nervous laugh.

“We’ll wait for your call, Captain,” Webber said. “Try and…”

“We’ll free him,” Thom said quietly. “Don’t worry about that. Riggan lead the way.”

Riggan headed out of the brig and turned left, leading them away from the bow. “They’ve locked down all the lifts. The main work passages are closed up as well. They’re expecting something,” Riggan said as he moved further and further into the ship.

“I figured as much. Our traitor did a lot of damage before we caught him,” Thom muttered.

“No worries, Captain, sir, I never used those ways. That would have gotten me caught on the first day.”

“How have you been getting around?” Tristan asked quietly as they walked.

“Well, not that I looked, but there was a set of plans just sitting in your quarters, sir. I saw them there and it was a bit of a gift, they mark all the open spaces in the ship, and an old ship rat like me, well, it was easy to find my way around with a map in my hands.”

Thom chuckled. “Very good, Riggan.”

“Thank you, sir. Here we are.”

It looked like all the other wall panels. Tristan could see the disbelief on the faces of the group as they stood in front of it. Riggan ignored them and pulled a small knife from his pocket. He slid the blade along the seal in the wall and suddenly the panel popped open. Pressing a finger to his lips, Riggan motioned them inside. Thom led the way, with Tristan right behind him. Once they were all in, Riggan sealed the panel behind them and turned on a small lamp. He stepped up beside Thom.

“We can’t use much light, or they’ll know,” he said almost soundlessly. “And no talking at all.”

“No talking,” Thom said, and the order passed quietly down the group.

Once he was sure everyone was ready, Riggan set out. They were walking on a piece of grating that was no more than three feet wide. Tristan made the mistake of looking down once and nearly fell over as a wave of vertigo hit him. The grating ran along the inside wall, but he could see the sparkle of the willowisps on the sails many, many decks below. Suddenly the ledge seemed much smaller than it actually was. Knowing how far down it was didn’t help the pounding of his heart at all. After what seemed like an eternity, Riggan stopped by a small ladder. He set the light down beside the first rung and started up. Thom followed, climbing easily. Tristan stepped onto the rung cautiously. His leg was still not as strong as it could be, there was the old wound from the bombing as well as the more recent graze when they were tossed overboard. He hoped that neither his hands nor his legs gave out on the climb.

It didn’t take long before they were out of the small pool of light cast by Riggan’s lamp and surrounded by a deep, impenetrable darkness. The lack of light seemed to suck away noise as well, and Tristan’s world narrowed to the rungs that went on forever. One hand up, one foot, the other hand, the other foot, over and over. He was beginning to get tired, his leg aching and his back pulling along the old scar. Grinding his teeth, he kept going. It had been his idea to come along, and he was not going to let Thom and the rest of the crew down by falling to his death—and he knew that’s what it would be. They were moving up the hull and there was nothing between him and the bottom deck but the men on the ladder below him.

Finally, a small star of light sparkled above them. In several more feet, Tristan could see it was another small lantern. Riggan stepped off the ladder and waited for Thom. They had to help Tristan over, much to his embarrassment, but his leg had reached the end of its endurance on the climb. Once he was safely on the small ledge, he took a deep breath and smiled that he was okay. He doubted Thom and Riggan believed him, but none of them had time to wait. Riggan picked up another that was sitting beside it the ladder. Turning it on, he set it back down and then started along the ledge, heading back towards the stern and Tristan’s quarters.

They were nearly at the end of the walkway when Riggan stopped. He took his knife out again and pressed it against something on the wall. Tristan couldn’t make out what. The panel moved aside and Tristan looked into his office in surprise. Riggan grinned at him as he stepped onto the carpet. Shaking his head, Tristan grinned back. Being in his cabin gave Tristan a much needed boost. It all seemed possible now that they were here. The group filed in silently as Tristan and Thom stepped into the main cabin.

Riggan was busy at the door to the quarterdeck stairs, disarming the charge. When he was done, he came back over to them. “I left the charges on the main door in place in case we need to retreat,” he said. “It will only take a second to fix it, but…”

“Good idea,” Thom said, pulling out his gun and holding it in his left hand, with his sword in his right.

“Just a moment, sir.” Riggan disappeared back into the office for a moment, then was back. “Mr. Aubrey is about to make his appearance to give us a chance to get on the deck.”

“I didn’t approve that,” Thom growled. “Okay, mercy when possible, but don’t be fools. We need to take the deck as quickly as possible.” Thom turned to Tristan. “Behind me.”

“And me, sir, sorry,” Riggan said, stepping in front of Tristan.

Thom eased the door open and the stench of the sails filled the cabin. With a nod to the group he slipped quickly up the stairs. Following him, Tristan was surprised when they stepped onto the deck. The officers on the quarterdeck were all focused on the fighting on the main deck below them. Stemmer and Fuhrman were standing by the helm, Chris Muher chained to the deck beside Fuhrman. Muher looked over as they reached the deck and grinned. Tristan
breathed a sigh of relief that the man was still alive. Moving as silently as they could their group slipped onto the deck. Three men veered off towards the guns that sat at the
taffrail
facing outwards. Thom was nearly to Stemmer when they were spotted.

The deck exploded around them. Where they had been focused on the deck below a moment before, now the officers and men turned on Thom and his group. Tristan saw several men closing on Thom, before he himself was grabbed from behind. Desperately trying to break free, he tried to reach the blade at his belt, and when that failed he dragged his nails across the arm that was on his throat. The man holding him grunted in pain but didn’t let go. Tristan’s vision was starting to close down. He could hear muffled explosions, but his lungs were aching for air, the fight was going out of his limbs and he knew he was almost gone—when suddenly he was free.

“Sorry, sir, didn’t mean to take so long, I got sidetracked,” Riggan said, offering him a hand up. There was a large gash on Riggan’s skull. “I brought the Interface, if you want to get it reseated. I’ll watch your back.”

Tristan nodded, his throat still aching, and stumbled towards the Interface that was in place. He eyed the thing with distaste and kicked it over. A black ooze ran across the deck from where he had broken the linkage. “I need to clean this before we can put mine back,” he said to Riggan and then ran across the deck to his cabin, ignoring the fighting going on around him as he focused on what needed to get done. He grabbed his bag and ran back on deck. Glancing around, he could see things weren’t going as well as they’d hoped. There were many men down on the lower deck—he recognized some of them. The three men that had headed towards the guns lay dead a few feet short of their goal, What stopped Tristan in his tracks was Fuhrman shoving a gun against Thom’s head.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Or I’ll kill him.”

“They aren’t going to stop,” Thom snarled. “None of us are.”

“Then I guess you get to die,” Fuhrman said with satisfaction. The gun went off, but Thom was still standing and Fuhrman was on the ground, yanked off his feet by Muher. “I’ll kill you for this!” Fuhrman shouted.

“
Me
first,”
Muher
said, his voice weak.

“Thom!” Tristan shouted as he saw Stemmer pull his gun and
turn it on Thom. Tristan dropped his bag and pulled out his gun, firing carefully. The former captain dropped to the deck.

“Thanks!” Thom shouted.

“You can’t win this,” Fuhrman said. “There’s too many loyal to the Navy and not dragon lovers like you.”

“I think that’s where you’re wrong,” Thom said with a grin. The big guns swiveled around to face the deck.

“You won’t fire on your own men.”

“Maybe, maybe not—but I am sure that
they
will happily eat any of your men, Fuhrman.”

Tristan looked up; Fenfyr and Taminick were flying straight towards the ship at high speed. There was a slight hiss as the dragons came in, and as soon as they settled on deck—Taminick on the main deck and Fenfyr on the quarterdeck—the fighting paused.