soldiers, voswods, as well as her crew. Tyfar beamed on her proudly as the handing-over ceremonies were concluded. She fluttered a myriad flags from her staffs; those flags mocked me with the purple and gold of the Empress Thyllis. Had they been the new Union flag of Vallia, the yellow cross and saltire on the red field, I would have jumped for joy.
“A splendid craft,” said Jaezila. She looked up expectantly.
The crew from Hamal who were to fly her back stood in a neat blue line. The shipyard workers, including many slaves, looked more sullen than Tyfar liked. But they could do nothing. Bands played. The breeze blew. All around the yard stood guards. Alongside the landing ramp the solid mass of a formed regiment of men from Hamal obtruded — brutally — the power of that empire here. They were here on the express invitation of Queen Fahia, so it was given out. As always, the swods of the iron legions of Hamal looked splendid, compact, formed and dressed, professionals to a man. They’d have short shrift with any disturbance. And, too, Fahia probably did not realize, these were some of the swords promised by Tyfar to Noran and his principals...
The crew stood in their neat line, but the voller began to lift.
People cried out. They pointed up, yelling. A man fell from the ship, his arms and legs spread-eagled. She rose slowly into the air. I saw Tyfar look aghast, and then furious, and then determined. At his side Jaezila gazed up with a ferocious expression I found difficult to decipher.
“She is being stolen!” Tyfar shouted. “Under our very noses!”
The band stopped playing. More bodies fell from the ship. We could hear the strife of combat aboard her, ringing out along her decks. I stared aloft, controlling myself, quivering with joy. I knew! Those gallant secret spies from Vallia had a hand in this! Perhaps Valona herself was up there, taking this splendid airboat for Vallia!
The ship hovered some fifty feet overhead. “If they don’t get away soon,” I said, aloud, wrought up, “they never will!”
Patrol vollers were shooting across. Soon the decks of the new ship would fill with fighting men and the handful of secret agents from Vallia would be slain.
“You sound—” said Jaezila.
“They’re done for,” said the owner of the yard, fat and ubiquitous Kov Naghan na Hanak. He was puffed up and proud with himself. “If a job has to be done, willy-nilly, then do it right, is what I say, by Harg, yes!”
“What, notor, did you do?” I spoke normally.
“Why, stuffed her with guards, hidden. I had an idea something would happen. Look — there they come atumbling down!”
I turned away, feeling sick. Those bodies falling to earth were Vallians — people who had thought to take away a precious airboat from hated Hamal. Now they were flung callously to the ground. The ship began to descend. I hoped, I prayed, that there had been few Vallians aboard. And, a treacherous and demeaning thought, I hoped Valona had not been among them.
Then Prince Tyfar once again proved himself. He looked somber. “It was a foolhardy attempt. A handful of people however brave and cunning, how could they hope to succeed? But I own I am sorry they died. They were a very gallant company.”
Jaezila turned away.
Stealing airboats from Hyrklana had become a much more difficult and dangerous pastime than ever it had been, as I had discovered. Now, when — not if, when — I took a flier I would, besides paying the owner for her, concoct a plan that with much forethought and cunning could not fail. Whoever had made this doomed attempt had failed not from want of courage but from lack of planning. My Vallians! Reckless, gallant, and yet shrewd and practical men and women, accustomed to the ways of trade and commerce, they still had not fully realized that when you fight yourself for your country instead of hiring mercenaries, there are many painful and difficult lessons to be learned.
The men of the Hamalian Air
Tim Curran
Elisabeth Bumiller
Rebecca Royce
Alien Savior
Mikayla Lane
J.J. Campbell
Elizabeth Cox
S.J. West
Rita Golden Gelman
David Lubar