Clash of the Sky Galleons (42 page)

‘Down, down …’ Spillins coaxed. ‘Lovely job. Mooring-ring directly in front,’ he called out.

But Quint shook his head. His father had never used mooring-rings that were already in place in the rock face. It was too much of a risk, he’d always said. The spikes could have rusted beneath the surface; the hot and cold of night and day might have shattered the slabs of rock which, if untested, were likely to break off at any moment and hurtle down into the void - taking any hapless sky pirate ship with it.

Save a minute and lose a life.
The words Quint had heard Wind Jackal say so many times now echoed round his head.

‘Tem! Duggin!’ he called. ‘Fire the fasting-spikes!’

The pair of them primed and fired the crossbows, shooting long, sharp metal spikes at the wall of rock up above them. With a grinding thud, they both sank into the craggy overhang.

‘Launch the grappling-hooks!’ shouted Quint.

With pinpoint precision, the two sky pirates sent the grappling-irons soaring off into the air, where they caught hold of the rings at the end of the fasting-spikes. Then, with the pair of them tugging the tolley-ropes, they pulled the hovering sky pirate ship in, until the prow was snug against the jutting rock.

‘Port-side secure,’ shouted Tem.

‘Starboard secure,’ shouted Duggin a moment later.

Half-suspended, half-wedged against the rock, with the buoyant flight-rock maintaining the equilibrium of the vessel, the
Galerider
was as firm and safe as Quint could hope for. He looked at the great inhospitable setting all about him. Wilderness Lair. A name to conjure with, to be sure. It was a place more suited to spirits, wraiths and ghouls than to creatures with blood running in their veins.

And yet it was to this furthest outpost in the Edgeworld - a hideaway that the lumbering league ships had never managed to reach - that the sky pirates had withdrawn so many times before. It was a haven, a sanctuary; a place that they would head for in times of persecution and attack.

Now was just such a time. Quint placed his bicorne hat firmly on his head, straightened his greatcoat and looked around. There were sky pirate ships
on all sides, as well as above and below, their decks teeming with heavily armed and greatcoated sky pirates.

On one side was the
Fogscythe,
a heavy two-master with four stone pilots and a complement of cloddertrog log-hurlers. On the other, the slim and elegant
Iceblade
was crewed by tufted goblins, and had a young spindle-bug quartermaster who trilled a greeting across to Quint. Close by, the
Windspinner
had a sturdy catapult and wood-tar braziers, while the
Thundercrusher
boasted a giant wrecking-ball.

The sleek white
Driftcleaver -
complete with plough-shaped battering ram at its prow - which had been known to cut a league ship in two, was one of several sky ships with an all-female crew. Another was the
Mistseeker,
captained by the sky pirate Storm Kestrel and her second-in-command, Heg-Hut, together with a hand-picked company of ferocious female hammerhead goblins. From her decks, a visibly shaken Glaviel Glynte and his partner, Sister Horsefeather, looked out, bemoaning the cowardly burning of the Tarry Vine tavern to any who would listen.

Quint called down to Raffix to take over, and climbed down from the helm to the aft-deck. There, he met Maris - resplendent in a new greatcoat and breast-plate.

‘How do I look, Captain?’ she smiled.

Quint was anxious and tired, but the sight of his friend in full sky pirate gear made him smile. ‘Perfectly dressed for the occasion, Maris,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Come, follow me.’

Quint climbed over the balustrade of the
Galerider
and made his way across the various gangplanks and walkways that linked the sky pirate ships, one with another. Maris followed, her eyes growing wide with wonder at the various vessels and their extraordinary crews, who saluted, doffed their caps or grunted greetings as they passed. Finally ten ships along and four down, they clambered on board a black stormchaser, sleek and deadly-looking with the name
Maelstrom Seeker
in silver letters on her prow.

On board, her deck teemed with sky pirate captains of every description, deep in muttered conversations. Quint, who was by far the youngest captain there, pushed through the crowded Council of Captains. He was making his way to the helm, where the mighty Captain Ice Fox - his once-black beard now silvery grey - stood with the most experienced of his colleagues.

Quint took off his hat and bowed respectfully. They were all there. Sleet Snicket, the great Mire specialist, with Slug, his trained mud-jackal, by his side. Flood Woodwasp, legendary shryke-egg smuggler. Cruld Spikefist, the grey goblin swordmaster, and Sister
Bloodfeather, lifelong friend of Captain Woodwasp and the only shryke ever to captain a sky pirate ship.

They had all obviously heard of Wind Jackal’s death, for as he passed by they took off their hats and murmured their condolences. Quint thanked them before stepping forward and whispering urgently to Captain Ice Fox, while the others gathered round. After a few moments, as Maris watched from the aft-deck below, Ice Fox raised his arms and addressed the other captains aboard the
Maelstrom Seeker.

‘Captain Cloud Wolf brings news from Undertown,’ he announced. ‘It seems our erstwhile friends in the leagues have grown bold. We were all fearing a long, hungry lay-up here in the Lair, waiting for things to settle down back in Undertown. But no! Apparently there is a leagues fleet coming to do battle with us …’

At this, a buzz rose amongst the sky pirate captains, along with muttered oaths and excited shouts.

‘We shall set sail from the lair by first light and clash with this leagues fleet of theirs …’

More shouts rose up from the captains all around Maris, together with calls of ‘Sky curse them!’ and ‘We’ll feed them to the Mother Storm!’

‘… And it will be a mighty clash, I promise you, comrades!’ Ice Fox boomed. ‘The greatest clash there has ever been …’

The captains hollered and bayed and roared their approval.

‘The clash of the sky galleons!’

As a swirling bank of cloud scudded across the vast expanse of the Edgeland pavement, the great armada of sky pirate ships rose up over the gloamglozer rock. The air filled with the roar of flight-rock burners and bellowed commands.

‘Raise the stern-weights!’

‘Steady, five degrees to port!’

‘Arm the catapults!’

In a graceful arcing line, the mighty sky ships swept out over the edge, their sails suddenly billowing, one by one, in a great spider-silk ripple as they caught the wind. Then, equally suddenly, the great armada was racing on the crest of the howling wind back over the Edgelands and towards the high peaks of the Deepwoods treeline far in the distance.

Like a mighty flock of migrating snowbirds, the sky pirate ships fanned out into a great arrowhead formation, with the slower, heavier vessels like the
Fogscythe
and the
Thundercrusher
at the ends of the line, and the sleek black
Maelstrom Seeker
at its tip.

Eighteen vessels along on the right-hand spur, the
Galerider
raced through the air under full sail. Just ahead of her, the
Mistseeker,
with her crew of hammerhead warrior maidens, was a magnificent sight, while behind, on
Galerider’s
shoulder, was the slim, elegant
Iceblade,
her decks teeming with tufted goblins armed to the teeth.

At the helm, Hubble the banderbear clasped the ship’s wheel, holding a steady course, while Quint’s hands raced over the flight-levers. Behind him stood Raffix in
full armour, his great black cloak billowing out behind him, ready to take over at Quint’s command.

‘A sky pirate armada under full sail!’ he called over Quint’s shoulder. ‘What a magnificent sight, Quint, old chap!’

Quint smiled. Raffix was right. The great armada, in its arrowhead formation, each wing numbering one hundred and twenty vessels, did indeed look magnificent -but Quint didn’t have time to admire the view. As the
Galerider
sped on, his mind was racing. Any moment now, with the Deepwoods speeding past below them, the leagues fleet would come into view. Two hundred and forty pairs of eyes peered out from the armada’s caternests, straining to spot their billowing sails and furnace smoke.

When they did, at the tip of the arrowhead, the
Galerider
was to follow the
Maelstrom Seeker
and thirty-eight of her sister sky ships - the fastest and sleekest in the armada - and slice through the league ship fleet. Once they had been scattered, the heavier sky pirate ships would close in and pound the league ships into surrender, while the
Galerider
and the attack ships cut off their retreat.

It had sounded so simple when Ice Fox had outlined the battle-plan on the map table in the cabin of the
Maelstrom Seeker
the night before. But now that they were actually racing through the bright, sunlit sky, Quint was not so sure. He could only hope that, as the youngest sky pirate captain in the armada, he wouldn’t let everybody down.

‘Stay close to the vessel in front…’ he repeated to himself under his breath. ‘Guard her mast; let the vessel behind guard yours … Steer straight, harpoon up, keel down…’

‘Talking to yourself, eh, Quint? First sign of madness, you know?’ Phin’s laughing face looked up at him from the aft-deck.

‘Make sure the crossbow bolts are greased,’ Quint called down to him, ‘and the …’

‘Yes, yes,’ laughed the young academic-at-arms. ‘You steer the ship,’ he said. ‘Me and the lads’ll take care of any unwanted guests!’

From the harpoon on the fore-deck, Tem Barkwater and Duggin turned and waved, while beside Phin, Stope the grey goblin forge-hand raised his polished helmet so comically that Quint had to smile.

Up on the flight-rock platform, Maris, in her greatcoat and breast-plate, and with the medicine chest strapped to her back, stood beside the Stone Pilot, her face drawn and anxious-looking.

‘Leagues fleet on the horizon!’ The shout went up from caternests all along the line. ‘Thousand strides and closing! They’ve seen us … They’re turning!’

Quint’s mouth was dry, and his fingers trembled as they moved expertly over the flight-levers. This was it; the great clash of the sky galleons that Ice Fox had promised.

‘Sky protect us,’ Quint muttered, concentrating hard on keeping the
Galerider
in formation.

They must have been sailing fast for, moments later,
when Quint looked up, the league ship fleet was just ahead. The big, sluggish league ships had none of the elegance of the sky pirate ships. They had been built to haul cargo, and most had clusters of small flight-rocks or unwieldy rubble cages that made them slow and difficult to manoeuvre. They now turned their sides to the oncoming sky pirate ships, prow to stern in a wall across the sky.

It was a classic defensive formation that allowed the leaguesmen clustered round catapults, slingshots and log-hurlers on the decks a shot at the sky pirate armada as it closed in. It was the task of the sky pirate ships at the tip of the arrowhead formation to break through this wall any way they could.

‘Light the harpoon, Tem,’ ordered Quint as the forty sky pirate ships at the arrowtip raced towards the lumbering wall of league ships. ‘Target the rock cage!’

At the prow, Tem, with Duggin by his side, lit the end of the great lufwood harpoon and took aim.

‘League ships twenty strides and closing!’ Spillins shouted from the caternest.

Suddenly, a great hail of missiles spat from the league ships out across the sky - burning deck-javelins, sumpwood-charcoal grenades, spiked lufwood logs and molten balls of ironwood sap.

‘Take cover!’ Quint shouted urgently and tensed at the helm.

In front of him, the great bulk of Hubble shrank down behind the wheel, pulling a fire-blanket up over his shoulders, while behind Quint, Raffix raised a large iron-wood shield above their heads.

The next moment, the air filled with angry humming and whizzing bursts as fiery missiles raced past them. A sumpwood-charcoal grenade landed on the flight-rock platform with a resounding clang, only to be kicked angrily overboard by the boot of the Stone Pilot, where it fizzed and crackled as it exploded into a million buzzing fragments. On the port-side, the nether-sail fizzled as a javelin tore a fiery hole in its centre, Quint pulling back sharply on the flight-lever to set it fluttering free behind them, like a blazing woodmoth. The
Galerider
shuddered once, twice, as lufwood logs hit her sides and bounced off while, just above Quint’s head, the ironwood shield rattled as a hail of flaming splinters rained down upon them.

‘Prepare for keel attack!’ Quint shouted above the din, praying silently that the crew’s tethers were all secure.

Ahead, at the tip of the arrow formation, the
Maelstrom Seeker
must have reached the wall of league ships, for the unmistakable sound of sky battle rang out: a huge shattering thunderclap of sound - the
clash!