Skyblade's Gambit: The Skyblade Saga, #1

By Robert Dahlen

Captain Annabel Skyblade commands the Peregrine, the most feared pirate airship to sail the skies of Aldarre, plundering the rich and powerful. The rulers of the great sky realms have had enough of her, and Victorie Brassfeld, Cerindel's top Navy intelligence agent, has a plan to capture the pirate, using a lure too strong to resist—a valuable, beautiful sapphire amulet.

But the amulet hides a great secret, and when it is stolen by sinister forces, Annabel and Victorie must join together to retrieve it. And as they face danger and adventure, they also have to face their feelings for each other, feelings they have never had before, when they discover...

Hearts can be stolen too.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Dahlen
• Release date: Sep 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781540179050

Robert Dahlen

Fantasy novelist, all-around wisecracker and penguin aficionado, Robert Dahlen lives in northern California with his wife, numerous aquatic waterfowl, and a tablet loaded with e-books and works in progress. He is hopefully working on another Monkey Queen book even as you read this.

Book preview

Chapter One

Annabel Skyblade peered through her spyglass as she stood at the prow of the Peregrine, scanning the horizon as the airship cruised through the skies of Aldarre. Most people would have assumed that all around her was clear, but her eyes were sharper than most. She could see that the faint outline in the distant northeastern sky was not a cloud, or a solitary star drake, but another airship.

She lowered the spyglass and hurried along the deck, heading up the stairs to the helm. As she did, she glanced up at the payload; on the balloon was painted a skull and crossbones and, below that, the head of a falcon. She smiled, her green eyes sparkling with thoughts of the chase to come.

Annabel was young, not very tall and rather curvy, with dusky skin and wavy red hair that cascaded past her shoulders. She wore a blue frock coat with gold trim over a white blouse, black trousers and boots that were well-worn but still serviceable. Her coat had been her captain’s claim from her first raid as captain of the Peregrine; the captain of the ship she had raided had been told to choose between his clothing and his life, and chose wisely. On the left side of her belt was a scabbard that held a rapier; on the right, a holster for her Svendaran pistolere.

The Peregrine’s helm was set thirty feet above the main deck of the airship. An older man was at the ship's wheel, studying the sky ahead. He had a white beard and a scar across one cheek, and was wearing goggles to protect against the wind. Hardwicke! Annabel said as she reached the top of the stairs. Take us northeast.

Spotted something, Cap’n? Hardwicke said as he spun the wheel, glancing at the large compass set into the railing to his right.

Aye, but let’s close in to see what we’ve found.

The helmsman nodded as he grabbed a lever to the left of the ship’s wheel. He pushed it all the way forward; the ship lurched briefly as the three sets of propellers, two mounted below the side-sails and one pair that flanked the rudder, reached their maximum rotating speed. At that pace, the crystals that fed them power would soon be drained of their magical energy and need to be recharged, but until then, the Peregrine was the fastest airship of her class in the skies.

After a few minutes, Annabel took another glance through her spyglass. It’s a merchant airship, she said. Corsair class. Her colors are black, blue and gold.

Ruegal colors, Hardwicke said.

Annabel smiled slightly. They must think they're going to have a quiet journey.

I take it they're not.

Quiet journeys are staggeringly dull. Keep her steady, Hardwicke. He nodded as Annabel crossed the helm, stopping by a speaking tube near the stairs. She softly cleared her throat as she knelt by the tube’s opening. All hands on deck, she said. Repeat, all hands on deck.

Annabel straightened up and glanced at the inlays along the wooden railing. They were a silvery metal, and most of them glowed softly, but one did not. She laid a finger on the metal and chanted, smiling as the inlay started to glow.

The metal was known as aerium. It had the unique ability of floating when properly enchanted, and when enough of it was bound to a ship, with additional lift from a hot air balloon, the airship could travel the skies, from sky realm to sky realm and back.

Though the ship’s mage, Pilfor, could keep the aerium properly enchanted, Annabel was able to help out with what little magic she knew. It was said that all good ship’s captains were part magician; Annabel liked to joke that in her case, it was literal.

Captain Skyblade? She looked down and saw the slender figure of Pilfor. He had pale skin, mussed-up hair and spectacles, all of which were hidden when he pulled up the hood of his red and black robe. What sort of trouble might we be facing today?

The best kind, Annabel said.

Highly profitable, you mean?

Observant as always, Pilfor. Set the seeming in place, and show the colors on my signal.

Same as always? Pilfor asked.

Aye. Annabel turned and saw that her crew was starting to gather.

Most of the crewmen were glashtyn, small, winged humanoids with bulging noses and ears and gnarled limbs, wearing simple clothing and sharp-toothed smiles. It was said that they were difficult to train, and earning their respect was even harder. They chatted loudly as they waited, their bursts of crude laughter rolling across the deck. Annabel had recruited the glashtyn from another pirate ship shortly after she had taken the Peregrine, and as much trouble as they could be at times, they also worked hard and loved the pirate life.

Behind them stood a troll, his small horns jutting through his long white hair. He wore short black pants and a matching vest, and a mace dangled from his belt. He idly cracked his red knuckles as he nodded at his captain. Annabel spared a quick smile for Tomasund. The troll had been an indentured servant on the Peregrine before Annabel had seized the airship and granted him his freedom. Big Tom had chosen to stay, and he had become Annabel’s first mate and closest companion on board.

Annabel took several steps down the stairs. Avast! she shouted. The glashtyn all stopped talking as one and looked at their captain. I know the pickings have been slim lately, she said. But we've got a juicy one in our sights! A merchant ship, ripe for the taking!

Her gaze swept the crew as her voice grew louder. Aye, they could put up a fight. But I know you skydogs are tougher and meaner than anyone those pampered salesmen could even dream of hiring to guard them! Let's show those landlubbers and layabouts a thing or two!

Captain Skyblade drew her sword and pointed it towards the heavens. We’ll feast like kings and drink like devils tonight! she shouted. The crew cheered, and she smiled broadly at the sound.

Quite a sight, Vandensloop murmured as he stood on the deck of the corsair class airship Gold’s Lure.

What is, sir? the helmsman shouted. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow.

That. Vandensloop pointed towards the southeast. The star drake.

The winged reptile flapped its night-black wings as it drifted towards the Gold’s Lure, its tail flicking, its narrow forked tongue darting out of and into its toothy mouth. Odd, that, the helmsman said.

How so?

Star drakes usually travel in pairs or packs. Why is this one flying solo?

It’s most likely a young male looking for a mate. I won’t question our luck if you won’t. Vandensloop rubbed his hands. Take us towards him. If we can capture him, I know alchemists who would pay dearly for star drake blood and scales.

Your ship, the helmsman said to himself as he turned the ship's wheel.

The three glashtyn chatted eagerly as they grabbed the sides of the net. Haul! Big Tom yelled. Haul, you lazy sons of sows! Quiet as sleeping babies! The glashtyn fell silent as their wings flapped; they lifted off the deck, heading for the merchant ship that drew ever closer.

Annabel gazed intently through her spyglass. That merchant never held a sword in his life, she muttered. More fool him.

The crew are armed, Hardwicke said. I see hobgoblins, at least three.

Let them try to stop us. Annabel watched as the glashtyn stopped just a foot short of the merchant airship. Three of them held large hooks tied firmly to one end of the net. Steady as she goes, Hardwicke.

The helmsman nodded as Annabel dashed down the stairs. She ran along the deck until she reached the net, which had been secured to the rail. She set one foot on the rail and drew her weapons, her sword in her right hand, her pistolere in her left.

The pistolere was a weapon crafted by Svendaran gadgeteers. Two crystals were set in the handgrip; the magic power they held could push enchanted iron pellets out the barrel faster than lightning when the wielder pulled the trigger. Only trained soldiers and guards, and the nobility, were supposed to have these, which had annoyed Annabel no end. She was just as good as any of them in their gilded towers and their overwrought airships, and she had been all too happy to claim two pistoleres for her own from an uppity Svendaran noble.

She aimed her pistolere towards the sky, pointing away from the Peregrine, and pulled the trigger. Her weapon went off with a loud crack, the fiery pellet streaking from the barrel.

That's another odd thing, the helmsman said as Gold’s Lure drew close to the star drake.

What would be? Vandensloop said as he eyed the drake.

The beast. It's hovering now. Holding its ground. Like it's...waiting for us.

The merchant chuckled. Young star drakes are known for their curiosity. A fatal trait in this one's case. I’ll fetch Montalvo—

A crack rang out through the sky. The drake, the seeming, wavered and vanished. In its place was a cruiser class airship. On the balloon was