The Graveyard of Empires - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

An Unlikely Meeting With an Unforeseen Outcome

First there was a single trail of fire, ascending into the darkness. It flared, then faded, and when it seemed to have vanished it suddenly exploded in a star-shaped burst of light and color. Another followed it, and another. The hot summer night filled with the crackle and flash of fireworks, ranging over the entire waterfront of the city, the colors reflected in the waters of the bay. Ships in the water below sent up their own flares and fireworks, and in the airships above the waters of New York Bay men thronged to the rails and ports to see the city light up in celebration of Independence Day, 1868.

The ship was called the Lucinda, and she flew rather low to the sea, ranging over the dark shape of Liberty Island and the star-shaped fortifications of Fort Wood. Her crew stood at the rails on her open deck and watched the colors flicker over the city, the echoes of the explosions coming a breath after the flash. They watched and pointed and laughed. None of them saw the shadow that moved in close to seaward.

One man thought he heard a sound and turned. Something moved in the dark, and he walked closer, saw it was a coil of rope lying on the polished deck. It trailed around in a loose loop and then up into the dark sky. He followed it up with his gaze, and then gasped when someone slid down the line, the hemp sizzling between their hands.

Someone big landed hard on the deck right in front of him, and he found himself staring into the face of an infant wrapped up in a native-styled papoose. It blinked at him with yellow eyes, and then snarled, showing sharp teeth. He staggered back with a cry as more shapes dropped onto the deck around him. The strange baby vanished from his view as Zenobia Santiago turned to face him, her sword singing out to touch his collar. She grinned, showing sharp teeth of her own. "Buenas noches," she said. "Puta."

Now the deck was suddenly full of armed men, and the crew of the Lucinda got off only a few shouts before they were all overwhelmed, thrown down to the deck, and held at gun-and-swordpoint. There were just eight of them, and it was all over in moments.

Now the shadowy ship lowered down abeam and a gangplank extended and dropped to the rail with a sound like an ax splitting wood. Zenobia went to meet it and smiled as the slight shape of Eden Kane strode down the steel ramp and jumped lightly down to the deck of the captured ship. Zenobia flinched as an especially loud firework detonated somewhere out over Manhattan. "Trust you to pick a night like this for an adventure, Ratoncita."

"This is the perfect night," Eden said. She turned and looked over the city, smiled sardonically. "One night of the year you could have a war up here and no one would even look up." She leaned back as a snarl came form over Zenobia's shoulder. "Good grief, do control your offspring."

Zenobia laughed. "Little monstrua is eager to be big enough to bite throats rather than ankles."

"I can tell," Eden said. She beckoned and the two of them crossed the deck to where the doors to the aft cabin were securely shut. Eden lifted a hand, then shrugged and rapped on the door. Even as she did she heard the ship's engines shut down as her men reached the engineering chambers below.

She heard a muffled curse, and then footsteps. The latch on the door clicked as it opened. "I said not to disturb me, I have a - eh?" The man who opened the door was tall and spare, with dark hair and a neat beard that seemed to hide a somewhat weak chin. He stared at the two of them with almost comical surprise. "What the devil?"

"General Rawlins I presume?" Eden said. She folded her arms. "I'm Captain Eden Kane. You wanted to speak to me."

The man blinked. "I - well, yes." He seemed to recover himself a little, though his gaze kept flicking to Zenobia, who was quite intimidating when she was unexpected. Eden had discovered that men found Zenobia in close proximity to be unnerving. It did not help that she wore little more than breeches, boots, and bandoliers of knives and bullets.

"We were - that is, we were to meet in -"

"Yes," she cut him off. "You didn't think I was going to arrive at a time and place of your choosing? What kind of pirate do you think I am? Now. Shall we go inside and have a drink?"

"I. . . well, I suppose we shall," he said.

---

Rawlins coughed as he led them into the cabin. It was furnished quite nicely, with a lot of green and rich wood tones. The lights were low and shaded, and there were several overstuffed couches and chairs. Zenobia plopped down on a couch, swung little Belial around in front of her and fussed at her a bit. Rawlins didn't seem to know what to say to that. He coughed some more and sat down heavily.

Eden looked him over. "Consumption?"

He nodded. "Indeed, a devil's affliction." He glanced out the porthole. "I suppose I should be impressed, finding my route and time, slipping up on my ship while I was unaware." He coughed. "Meant to put me off my guard."

Eden shrugged, tapped the hilt of her sword. "I have easier ways to do that. Mostly I wanted to meet you at a time and a place you could not anticipate. You sent me a message, saying you had a proposition for me. That was either a trap, or an honest truth. So." She sat down across from him and looked him in the eye. "Which is it?"

He coughed and wiped his mouth with a white cloth. "Well, first things first. Would you like a pardon?"

Eden raised an eyebrow. "A presidential pardon? Last I heard Johnson was still president."

"Yes, but he won't be for much longer. His own party doesn't even want him." He pointed out the window. "The Democratic convention is going on in the city right this very moment, and they are choosing someone - anyone else - to run for the office."

"Who will they pick?" Eden said.

"Who cares? The point is, Grant is the republican candidate, and he will win, of that I have no doubt. Once he is in office, he could make you a free woman with a stroke of the pen." He coughed again, trying to control it.

Eden laughed. "I am already as free as air, General. A pardon will not solve any of my problems, or at least only the smallest of them. What, in fact, would I even do with myself as a pardoned pirate? You may promise to pardon me, but you cannot pardon what I am, or what I do."

"True enough," he said. "I thought you would say something like that."

"Then you are cleverer than you look," Eden said. "And why are you here anyway?" she said. "Why you?"

"I am a close friend of General Grant, and have been for many years. We came through the war together, and when he wins the election, I will be appointed Secretary of War. Johnson is a lame duck, we have to begin planning for what will be. So do you." He pointed at her.

"You sound quite sure of yourself," Eden said.

"I am," he said. "I have worked on this campaign for months, and will for many more. I will see Grant in the Presidential Mansion if I die of it. Now tell me," he said. "How do you think you and your pirates will fare with a military man for a president?"

Eden chewed her tongue. "I suppose that is a threat."

"Do you not quite comprehend the tremendous impact the attack on Washington had last winter? Over a thousand people died, and many more were burned and lost all their possessions. There are calls for a grand military expedition to wipe you out - all of you. Even with those massive warships, that is a war you can't win, and you know that." He coughed again, covering his mouth. He certainly sounded sick.

"But what if there was a way for you to be heroes, to redeem yourselves in the eyes of the nation? The flagship used by General Hood crashed and burned - everyone has seen the pictures. The blame can be assigned to him, so long as there is reason for us to do so." He poured himself a drink from a decanter, tossed it down. Now he was talking, there was a nervous energy about the man.

"Which brings us to your proposal," she said.

"Indeed," he said. "How would you like to save the west coast from a foreign invasion?"

Eden snorted. "An invasion? Who is enough of a fool to invade the United States?"

"The British," he said without a pause. "Don't tell me that surprises you. They have wanted a foothold on the west coast for decades now, and they eagerly watched as we failed to garrison it strongly, as we left it to its own devices despite the gold rush and all the other good reasons to want it. The war left us weak, and they are aware of that too. You know they almost joined with the Confederates during the war? Well, they nearly did. A divided, weakened United States would be very much in their interests."

"Seems to me an invasion would be your problem," she said.

"It would, or rather, it would be a problem for the government. But congress is paralyzed by the impeachment proceedings against the president, and the president is paralyzed by congress. Grant would act, but he cannot command troops that are not yet his to command. And it would not be easy to operate against an enemy on the coast, so far away." He shook a finger at her. "We would have a force there already, but you saw to that, didn't you?"

"So you want to hire me to defend the country, is that it?" Eden leaned back and shook her head. "That is deeply ironic."

"Isn't it?" He coughed again, wiped at his mouth. "The British will use proxies as well - they have no desire to stage an international incident when there is no need. They will hire their own outlaws and send them to seize California. Once they have, then the Royal Air Corps will move in and drive them off in the interests of international peace and order. Once there, they shall be in no great hurry to leave." He coughed. "I doubt I have to inform you of what a danger to you British occupation of the coast would be."

Eden poked her tongue into her cheek. He was right about that, at least. She had no desire to share a border with the largest aerial navy in the world. "So this would be unofficial."

"Of course," Rawlins said. "If you succeed, then you become heroes, are pardoned for your crimes, and Grant looks like a visionary. If you fail, then he had no part in it whatsoever."

"Indeed, how nice for him." Eden wondered if Grant had any idea what was being carried out in his name. "What can you offer me up front?"

"We have backers," Rawlins said. "Something of this nature requires money, after all, as well as discretion. We can provide you with supplies you will need - maintaining those big ships cannot be easy on a ragged frontier. Also, we can see that your ammunition stocks are replenished."

"I'll want rifles, bullets, shells for the cannons, radiant gasses, and a list of other parts," she said.

"Excellent, I'm glad you see the -"

"And I will require one million dollars worth in gold," she said.

It was funny, how his face drained of color. She watched him closely as he coughed, and coughed again. "I. . . will convey that request, but I do not think it will be a problem."

"Good." She stood up. "I will also need whatever information about the British privateers you can obtain - men, ships, timetables - all of it."

He stood as well, looking a bit gray. "I will see that you get it. Everything you ask for."

"Good," she said. She put out her hand, and he shook it. "I look forward to working with you."

---

They were back aboard the Warlock and gone into the dark, leaving the crew of the Lucinda dazed and terrified. There were no lights on their ship, and so there was no chance anyone would see them. Fireworks boomed and flashed as they rose higher into the summer night.

As soon as they were in the cabin Zenobia pulled off her sword belt and threw it down on the table. "Are you out of your cabeza? These bastardos want to hire us and you just sign on?"

"I am not going into this blind, Zena," Eden said, dropping into her chair. "I asked for a million in gold and he said yes. Does that give you an idea of how bad they want me to do this?"

"Unless they will just say anything to make you go along until they can trap you - trap us!" She slung Belial off her back and started unlacing her from the carrier.

"No, he was not lying. Whoever his backers are, they have the money, and he thinks he can get it." Eden put her feet up on the table. "And we need the things he is offering. The warships need parts and repairs we can't get in El Dorado. And we need shells for the guns. We can get outfitted from this bargain - better than we ever have been."

"They would not offer that unless they had a plan later to kill us all," Zenobia said, letting her daughter out to crawl on the floor. Eden kept a hand on her gun so the girl would not be able to get at it. Again.

"I'm sure they do, but if they think outmaneuvering me will be easy, they are mistaken." She frowned. "And if they are right about a British incursion, then that is something we have to stop."

"And how do we know that is not a lie?" Zenobia said, giving her infant child a knife to play with.

The door opened, and then close, and no one seemed to enter. Zenobia sniffed and grinned. "There you are, you shit. I was wondering."

The air seemed to shimmer, and then Quill seemed to materialize from nothing. He was a compact man, with bronze-copper skin that changed color at his command. He blended in, like a chameleon, provided he was naked, which he often was and was now. He bowed. "Captain."

Eden smiled. "And did you get what I sent you to get?" she said.

He held up a sheaf of papers bound in a leather folio. "I did, and more." He ran a hand over his bald head. "Come, let me show you what our friend did not want to share."

Continued in Chapter 2

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