Clash of the Sky Galleons (7 page)

‘Almost as soon as we teamed up, Turbot kept the
Galerider
busy, and the profits began rolling in. I made sure Garum Gall, my right hand, kept a close eye on Turbot, and even credited myself with curbing some of the loathsome quartermaster’s worst excesses. Slave-trading, for example. Turbot Smeal knew, no matter what the profit, that I would never, ever deal in slaves. But timber, fine pelts and Deepwoods goods of every kind - we shipped them all and, thanks to Turbot’s contacts, the leagues left us alone.

‘Of course, there was a price to pay. There always is, with the leagues. The price was to accept commissions from different leagues when the occasion warranted it, to raid their rivals’ ships. And we were good at it. There wasn’t a league ship in the sky that would dare to take on the
Galerider
in a fair fight.

‘We grew richer. I met and married your mother, Hermina, and a year later our first son, Lucius, was born, followed by Centix, then Murix, and Pellius and Martilius. And, last but not least, you, Quintinius …’ The trace of a smile flickered across his face. ‘We moved to the opulent palace in the Western Quays - and life was good. I counted myself the luckiest person alive …

‘At the same time, my old friend Linius Pallitax was prospering also, his career in Sanctaphrax going from strength to strength. Together we actually thought we might be able to change the way things were done in the two cities - reform the leagues and academies and bring Undertowners and academics closer together.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘What fools we were …’

‘Not fools,’ said Quint fiercely. ‘Just unlucky…’

‘Aye, son, perhaps you’re right,’ said Wind Jackal. ‘And yet I should have known that someone as rotten as Smeal could never be changed. I remember the look of leering greed and triumph on his face when he came to me with what I took to be one of the finest deals he had ever brokered - one that would not simply put money in our pockets, but might actually do some good …

‘Following long talks with Purlis Havelock, Leaguesmaster of the League of Furnace Tenders, Smeal had agreed that we would raid a slave ship owned by Meltus Drail’s League of Stokers and Smelters, since the latter had been undercutting their prices by using cheap - and illegal - slave labour. The poor wretches were to be shut up in the Stokers and Smelters’ sewer workshops and worked to death. I was happy to agree to the deal on the strict understanding that the slaves should be released by us back in the Deepwoods.

‘Smeal muttered darkly about profits and waste of valuable time, but the League of Furnace Tenders were paying us handsomely to ruin their rivals, and at last he, in his turn, agreed.

‘So,
anyway,
the day arrived. Hot and humid it was, as I recall, with ominous, dark purple banks of cloud rolling in from Open Sky. The ambush was due to take place in the morning at six hours on the borders of the Deepwoods and the Twilight Woods. We arrived at the site the night before, weighed anchor in a leadwood grove and cut down branches, which we used to camouflage the vessel before settling ourselves down for the long night ahead.

‘And it was a long night, Quint. Long and unpleasant. I’ve never liked spending the hours of darkness out there in the Deepwoods, and that particular night there was a dry lightning storm which crackled and flashed hour after hour, without a break. It lit up the dark forest, casting eerie shadows and setting the forest creatures off with their hideous screeching and squawking like the spirits of the dead. By Sky, Quint, my thoughts became bleak - and yet, as ever, day was on its way.

‘By five hours the lightning had subsided and the sky was beginning to brighten up with the first glimmering light of dawn. I began to shake off my despond and look forward to the approaching encounter. And sure enough, at half off the appointed hour, Spillins - the eyes of the
Galerider -
spied the slave ship approaching from the top of the caternest.

‘A blackwood vessel it was - nameless, dark and sinister, and in need of urgent repair. Certainly no one who didn’t already know would have suspected the valuable cargo it held as it sailed across the sky from the
Deepwoods to the Stoker and Smelter leaguesmen awaiting them in the foundries on the Mire side of Undertown. We made no move until the rickety sky ship had passed overhead. Then, emerging from our cover and discarding the branches that had concealed us, the
Galerider
attacked with full force.

‘A harpoon attached to a rope was launched from our prow. It skewered the vessel’s port-side and held it fast. Then, by turning the winch-wheel and tightening the rope, we drew the other ship alongside us.

‘The cowardly leagues crew didn’t put up much of a fight once I’d called for stave-hooks and tolley-ropes and given the command to board. It was all so easy.

‘Too easy …’

Wind Jackal fell still, as if the weight of memories was too much to bear. He groaned and, in the silvery moonlight, Quint saw his father hold his head in his hands.

‘We rounded up the crew of the slave ship and sent them packing in the two open rubble tenders that served as lifeboats on the battered vessel. Then I was just about to open the hold and free the poor unfortunates held there when all at once Spillins, telescope raised, announced that there were two more league ships approaching. And fast!

‘Of course, with half our crew on the
Galerider
and half on the slave vessel, I was in a very weak position. It was only when Spillins shouted down the names of the two league ships - the
Forger of Triumph
and the
Smelter of Woes -
that I realized these were vessels belonging to the League of Furnace Tenders. And indeed, raising my own
telescope, I saw Purlis Havelock, the master of the League, himself, at the helm of the lead ship.

‘I had an uneasy feeling, but as yet, no reason to suspect anything might be amiss. They drew alongside, one to the
Galerider’s
port-side; the other on the starboard-side of the slave ship. They had us penned in like tilder in a cage. Havelock started to engage me in pleasantries. About the weather, the Deepwoods, a job well done … Then, while we were chatting, I noticed that something was happening on the other league ship.

‘Havelock’s leaguesmen had boarded and, so far as I could make out, were taking the slaves - frightened-looking woodtrolls - out of the slave ship and placing them in shackles, ready to transfer them to their
league ship. I bellowed at them to stop, only for Turbot Smeal to countermand my order from his position next to Havelock. I remember his weasel words to this day

‘“Relax, old friend,” he smirked, waving the leaguesmen on. “We can’t afford a wasteful trip to some woodtroll village who knows where. This way, we get double our fee and Havelock here takes the wretches off our hands …”

‘“Not if I have anything to do with it!” I roared, suddenly aware that Smeal must have brokered a separate deal with the leagues.

‘Unsheathing my sword in a flash, I sliced through the tolley-rope that tethered the
Galerider
to Havelock’s
Forger of Triumph,
bellowing to Ratbit on the other side of the sky ship that he should do the same to the harpoon-rope binding us to the slave ship. Then, having commanded Ramrock to cool the flight-rock, I slammed the flight-levers across, raising the hull-weights and giving full head to the sails.

‘We soared up into the air, turned in mid air and - our weapons drawn and ready - swooped back down in a broad arc towards the second league ship before a single
slave could be taken on board. It was Purlis Havelock’s turn to be outraged.

‘ “In the name of the Leagues,” he roared.
“Attack!”

‘Suddenly, the decks of both league ships were bristling with weapons, and arrows and crossbow bolts were flying through the air at the
Galerider.
Meanwhile, on board the slave ship, Steg Jambles and the great cloddertrog twins, Grim and Grem, had launched into action. While Steg did his best to steer the slave vessel away from the second league ship, the cloddertrogs threw themselves at the leaguesmen who had come aboard and made short work of them …

‘But it was still two to one, and despite the
Galerider
‘s superiority as a sky ship, the league ships had come well-armed and prepared for a fight. I had to think fast. Then it came to me - a little trick I’d seen snowbirds do to draw prey from their nestlings. So I feigned a broken wing…’

‘You did
what?’
said Quint, intrigued.

Wind Jackal smiled grimly. ‘I pushed one of the flight-levers right across,’ he explained. ‘The mainsail fluttered, flapped and collapsed. Purlis Havelock couldn’t believe his luck.

‘ “We’ve got him!” I heard him bellow triumphantly. “Move in for the kill!”

‘Suddenly, as the
Galerider
hovered in the air, a sitting wood-duck, there were league ships coming at us from both directions. I pretended to panic, tugging at the supposedly broken flight-lever, all the while keeping an eye on the position of the league ships. I knew that
Ramrock would be doing the same. Then, when they were only strides away, their weapons raised ready for the final onslaught, I bellowed to the stone pilot…

‘
“LIFT!”

It was the command my faithful old pilot, may Sky rest his spirit, had been waiting for. He tugged on the drenching-lever, chilling the flight-rock in an instant and catapulting us high up into the sky A moment later, from below us, there came a deafening
crash!
as the two league ships slammed into one another. I looked over the side to see the
Forger of Triumph
sliding off to the west, while the
Smelter of Woes -
which had had a gaping hole punched in its side and half its hull-weights severed - was spinning helplessly round and round as it plummeted down out of the sky towards the treacherous Twilight Woods, from which its hapless crew would never emerge.

‘It was all too much for Havelock. He never even considered the thought of engaging in a fair fight between the two of us. No, so far as he was concerned, the battle was already over. With a bellowed command to his crew, he and his league ship swung round in the sky and beat a hasty retreat, back towards Under-town, where he would have time to plot his revenge.