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

cutting through the memory.
    Ah. There he is . One last presence was required before the invasion could truly begin. Though it...complicated matters. The newcomer had taken a different route than that of the fleet. However, now here he was, right on schedule. The admiral cast one last look about the deck, then straightened his wig, adjusted his hat, and gestured to Sergeant Adjutant Lanters. Everything had to be perfect now.
    The sergeant gave a nod. "Atten-shun!" he bellowed, both hands cupped about his mouth. Every man on the deck froze in his task, from able seamen all the way to First Lieutenant Lebam, and turned to face the admiral.
    “Present arms!” continued Lanters. The marines along the rails stepped forward and raised their muskets to the sky. “Fire!”
    The rippling thunder of a hundred shots echoed out across the deck and over the water. There were enough ships clustered nearby that the salute might prove dangerous. It didn’t matter. Some things were just done, especially for a member of the royal family. And maybe the pirates would notice that .
    The lantern above winked out, replaced by the silent, oblong hulk of an airship. Smaller than the ridiculous contraptions built by the Haventown Mechanists, this vessel was made for war. Its gas bag and gondola both were armored, and smaller propeller assemblies along either side of the hull helped the two in the rear to provide speed. Golden lettering up near the bow declared its name, and the sunburst sigil emblazed across the gas bag declared its allegiance. Still, to Admiral Wintermourn’s eye, the Glory of Perinault was an ungainly vessel. It lacked the imposing grandeur of a proper oceangoing warship.
    He could hear the whir of propellers as the Glory shifted in its position above their topsails. The airship floated to starboard, then lowered, coming down until its gondola deck sat just above the Colossus’ s own. Bluecoats ran out a boarding ramp, then lowered it down with a mechanical winch. One of Wintermourn’s lieutenants barked an order, sending deckhands to secure it.
    The time has come, then . Admiral Wintermourn jerked his head, then descended to the deck and the base of the boarding ramp. Sergeant Adjutant Lanters followed, and First Lieutenant Lebam gathered with the other officers. For all of his confidence and rank, a sense of trepidation lingered in Admiral Wintermourn’s heart. He had never met the crown prince before, and what he had heard from correspondence back home did not reassure him.
    The deckhands scurried away as he moved amidships to face the ramp, sufficiently far away to allow an honor guard to appear. He was not disappointed, as four men descended to the deck, ornate in uniforms of red, blue, and gold. They held long-bladed halberds etched with the sunburst sigil of Perinault and carried at their hips a far more practical saber, as well as a brace of flintlock pistols. The royal guard descended, splitting off to stand at either side of the ramp, glaring about the Colossus before turning worried gazes back up to the airship.
    No one appeared. For a moment stillness reigned, disrupted only by a loose bit of sail flapping above in the tropical breeze.
    Then Wintermourn heard it. A heavy tromp, as of many booted feet all taking a step at once. The clank of metal followed, both sounds repeating, quickly building into a monotonous rhythm that grew louder with every passing moment. The ramp to the Glory began shaking with some unseen force.
    A figure in a brazen suit of heavy platemail armor appeared atop the ramp. It moved mechanically, flywheels spinning and pistons hammering away in the spaces between its plates. Steam puffed out from a small exhaust pipe behind the right pauldron next to the slung barrels of a complicated firearm, which was something like a heavy pepperbox musket.
    The armored knight descended as another appeared behind it. And then another. In moments a whole platoon of the things had tromped down onto the