They should not have been faulted for being unprepared. After all, who would have thought a daytime attack at all likely?
It took Rue a few minutes to realise that The Spotted Custard was, once more, under siege. She had just re-emerged after an afternoon nap belowdecks via the captain’s ladder.
Primrose was supervising the delivery of a cartload of kippers, dried apricots, raspberry jam, and other vital necessities. The gangplank was down as the last of the provisions were wheeled up.
Tea was laid out near navigation. Rue was contemplating whether she could manage a scone, when she suddenly had no options at all. The tea hamper was knocked up into the air and on top of her by a man apparently intent on throttling Percy.
Percy was understandably surprised to find himself under threat of strangulation.
Rue was not surprised at all. She often wanted to throttle Percy. But then, she knew him. Fortunately, he was not as easy a mark as he appeared. Aunt Ivy was quite silly – everyone knew this – and it’s not like one became less silly because one turned into a vampire. However, she was not wilfully ignorant. She insisted both her children – yes, even the girl – be trained to protect themselves. Thus Primrose and Percival Tunstell knew the rudiments of self-defence against vampires specifically, but that translated pretty darn well to everyone else.
Percy twisted and elbowed his assailant in the throat.
Rue struggled to extract herself from a newly intimate relationship with the tea hamper.
Percy delivered a very nice punch to his opponent’s eye. The man, who may or may not have been one of those who tried to board before, pulled a knife and turned his attention onto Rue.
Rue found a grip on the hamper and swung it in a wide arc, clipping him on the side of the head. Until that moment she had not realised how satisfying the sound of wicker crunching could be.
It didn’t fell the ruffian, but it dazed him enough for Percy to get in another punch.
“Bloody hell,” said Percy, shaking his hand, “that hurts.”
“Imagine how he feels.” Rue’s attention drifted to assess the larger situation. She needed to establish command.
“Percy, can you manage this?”
“If I must.”
Rue left the poop deck for the quarterdeck. Away from the helm and associated clutter, the quarterdeck afforded her a better vantage point on the battle taking place on the main deck below.
Several ruffian types had boarded once again. Decklings had one invader up against the forecastle break, four deadly crossbows pressing against his delicate parts. Other decklings had taken to the rigging and were poised for a clear shot, should any of the enemy try to escape. Deckhands engaged two others in fisticuffs.
The three remaining enemies seemed to be trying to make their way belowdecks via the main hatch to the staircase.
Behind her came a crash as Percy brought one of her potted sunflowers down on his assailant’s head. The man fell, insensate.
“Oh, Percy, really, must you waste my disinfecting sunflowers?”
Percy look prim. “The evidence supporting the efficaciousness of sunflower use in aetherosphere transit is sketchy at best.”
Rue turned back to the battle. What are they after? Percy’s research perhaps? Or Quesnel’s preservation tank? A tank that would allow vampires and werewolves to travel by air was a gold mine. No doubt Professor Lefoux was busy writing up petitions to modify the patent, now that they knew it worked on werewolves. Quesnel will have told me everything. Or Mother will have. Inventors did talk to each other. If someone knew what that tank could do and blabbed? It could be a target. And now her father was inside it.
Rue barked out orders, trying to cut through the yelling of excited decklings. “Threat headed belowdecks! Stop them! Willard, Spoo, marshal your troops. Don’t forget your training.”
Spoo gave a series of piercing whistles. “Decklings to the ground! Invaders at the main hatch!” Those who had been waiting high up to pick off stragglers leapt down.
Willard left off trading blows and, with a signal from his beefy arm, called one of his fellows to replace him. The deckhand stepped in and Willard followed Spoo’s decklings towards the three men wrestling with the hatch.