The Shadow of the Moon-Lydia's Tale

Chapter Fourteen

Faulke cursed and flung the ships engines into reverse, the splinter ship slewed violently sideways sending Lydia slipping past him and crashing into the instrument panel. The engines screamed wildly as Faulke struggled with the rearing machine trying to stop it crashing into the object in front of them. He reached forward, grabbed Lydia with one hand and lifted her up and threw her back into the seat behind him.  

Having bought the ship under control Faulke blew the air through his cheeks and sat back. 'It looks like we are expected.' 

Directly in in front of them hung a battered bullet nosed ship. Down one side it bore the remnants of an old blast mark, its blackened outer skin had peeled off revealing the inner skin of dull oxidised red metal beneath. None-the-less with its armoury of heavy guns hung on its short stubby wings it made for an intimidating sight.  

'An Alamut corsair cruiser waiting for us just outside the Extensivity. If they'd been any closer we'd have smashed right into them.' Faulke made some minor adjustments to the controls and then swung round, 'Are you alright?' 

Lydia rubbed her shoulder, nodded and turned her attention to the cruiser. The ship in front of them had its protective shields up making it impossible to see who was piloting it. 

The halo on Faulke's console crackled and burned into a blue haze, gradually a hooded head materialised from the ether, 'Death to the intruders! Death to all those who dare to come uninvited to Alamut. Shoot them down!' 

Lydia grabbed Faulke's shoulder, 'Faulke!' 

Faulke held his hand up and pushed a finger against his lips signifying her silence. 

Lydia drew her breath, her heart thumped like a trapped bird in her chest. They'd come this far only to face this. Perhaps the Commander had been right all along, the risks were too high. Had the Nergalrhod deserted her now the temple project had begun. Had she led Faulke on a fool's mission? Fearful of what was to come she watched the giant cannon and waited for them to explode into action. 

'Ah, I should have known. You have a Gelon on board, otherwise you would not have guessed my intentions,' the voice, rich and resonant adopted a tone of resignation. The hooded head swayed a little, then two plump hands came into view and pulled down the cowl to revealed a wide beaming face with a high forehead, bald accept for a small tuft of grey hair. The eyes of a middle aged man, streaked with laugher lines sparkled merrily at them from the ship opposite. The head leaned forward and scrutinised them. 'So which one of you is the Gelon?' Then it exploded into laughter. 

Lydia pushed her head past Faulke so she could clearly see the halo, 'You said you were going to shoot us down. Why would you do that?' 

'Young lady, I had the fortune to be trained at the Academy of Classical Arts of Katurn, famed throughout Outremer for the artists it has produced. I aspired to be a budding thespian like those before me but after three years I was told I did not have the physique to grace to theatres of Outremer. Can you imagine?' The figure leant back and patted its substantive stomach. 'Yet you were taken in, imagine what the audiences are missing? It appears your Gelon was somewhat harder to convince.' 

'From what I hear the Alamut pirates don't normally give out warnings. They shoot down the defenceless without mercy.' Lydia jabbed her finger at the halo.  

'So they say, but what would I know of such things. After my rejection at the school I took orders and have since offered my services to those that require solace and guidance in these difficult times.' The face made dog eyes to elicit her sympathy. 

'You're a priest?' Lydia was doubtful, 'In a ship like that?' 

'Running a protection racket on the pilgrims travelling out to Vanderium I shouldn't wonder.' Remarked Faulke sourly.