Beneath a Burning Sky (The Dawnhawk Trilogy Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

in the light of the setting sun. Dozens of other warships floated nearby, similarly at anchor. A more poetic man might make allusion to the formation of some aquatic city, moving with the ebb and flow of the waves.
    Admiral Wintermourn was not a poetic man. He did appreciate the sight, though; the numbers meant strength. Almost the entirety of the Perinese Royal Navy had been directed to this action, save those ships necessary at Arquam. Victory against the Salomcani had been a foregone conclusion for over a year now, so much so that the fleet could be sent to pacify a lackluster rebellion in the Breachtown colony. That done, the only question had been what to target next. When Wintermourn received his new orders, he approved the choice. Now the strongest naval force in the world was in position just outside of the Copper Isles. The setting sun seemed particularly appropriate when he considered their foe.
    “Almost ready now, sir.”
    Wintermourn glanced at Sergeant Adjutant Lanters, standing deferentially aside. The man was a side of beef in uniform, with little intellect, and worse, no patronage. But it wouldn’t be said that Admiral Wintermourn didn’t reward dedication; when trapped in a burning building three months ago, with unholy undead abominations clawing at their feet, the man had stood fast where all Wintermourn’s other subordinates had fled. For that, he made Lanters his adjutant for this fleet action, commanding all the Colossus’ s Bluecoats. The man also made a good valet, he’d found. While giving a mere marine the same authority as a navy field officer had generated resentment among his own lieutenants, they were all canny enough to keep their complaints to themselves.
    “I should hope so, Sergeant,” replied the admiral, glancing past the man. “Any more time spent on this task is unacceptable. Subterfuge of this sort is quite unbecoming.”
    A dozen men worked at the port-side gunwales. They loaded weapons into a longboat launch along with casks of whale oil. Disgraced volunteers one and all, the men followed the direction of Able Seaman Hayes, who directed the preparations stiffly, his back only barely recovered from the bite of the nine-tailed-cat. The ex-pirate Oscar Pleasant sulked within the launch itself. Before long they would venture alone into the island chain to the east, hunting for the pirate port called Haventown and the airship Skydocks there.
    “Aye, sir,” replied Lanters. “No one’s going to miss these sacks o’ skin, though. And if they do succeed, the Goddess-damned sky pirates will be crippled. Assumin’ that Pleasant fellow proves trustworthy.”
    Admiral Wintermourn sighed. “They won’t succeed, Sergeant. The only thing they’ll do is prod the bear awake. Which is the only reason I am allowing this dishonorable course of action. We’ve been at anchor allday, yet these damnable sky pirates haven’t even noticed us!” He shook his head. Cutthroats and rogues they may have been, but he couldn’t imagine that the pirates were so miserably oblivious to the threat waiting on their doorstep.
    “I would love to hang Mr. Pleasant,” Wintermourn continued, “but it seems he can be useful in this instance. So yes, let him lead the way into that warrens. He will be trustworthy enough for that. The fellow has no home now but ours.”
    Still, this preemptive skulking rankled him. Things were done a certain way in the navy. Great battles full of sound and fury, the spent lives of common men wicking out like burned-down candles—that was the way to victory. If he had to goad the enemy to play their part, so be it.
    Wintermourn watched as Able Seaman Hayes loaded a cask of oil into the longboat. So be it . He could almost see it now: wooden buildings afire, pirates and saboteurs both burning. Tottering blindly about, reaching up with fingers like claws as they died and rose again...
    The false sun of a galvanic lantern bloomed above the crow’s nest of the Colossus ,