Page 12 of Fly to Fury (War of the Alliance #3)

Chapter

Six

F ieran returned his swords to his tent and changed his shirt, though he didn’t have time for even a quick shower. Instead, he splashed a little water on his face and wiped off the sweat as best he could before he put on his clean shirt.

Fieran nodded, keeping his smile in place. He wouldn’t let the other captain’s disgruntlement annoy him. “I’ll gather my lieutenants and be right there.”

Capt. Kentworth snapped a nod, spun on his heel, and marched away.

Fieran collected Merrik and Lt. Rothilion, and the three of them made the long walk from Bay 4 all the way to Bay 12 at a quick pace .

Bay 12 was a large lean-to rather roughly tacked on to the very end of the hangar complex.

As it was too small to fit an aeroplane, it had been turned into a meeting area, with long rows of benches facing both a blackboard and a corkboard.

A table at the back of the room held a pile of maps, charts, and other assorted paperwork while a smaller table held a radio, likely so Colonel Dentley could monitor communications when the squadrons were in the air.

Colonel Dentley, Lt. Busher, Capt. Kentworth, Capt. Fleetwood, and their lieutenants waited at the back of the room, clustered around the chart table.

Colonel Dentley kept his hands braced against the table as he leaned over it. “Capt. Laesornysh. Good of you to join us.”

Fieran clenched his jaw beneath his pleasant smile. Perhaps he’d taken a little too long that morning in practice with his dacha, but he wasn’t that late.

As Fieran, Merrik, and Lt. Rothilion joined the cluster at the table, Colonel Dentley pointed at the map spread out before them. “Capt. Kentworth, your squadron will take today’s patrol along the borders.”

Capt. Kentworth nodded, and Lt. Busher obligingly scratched notes on a clipboard.

Colonel Dentley outlined the route on the map, likely for Fieran’s benefit since the other two captains would be very familiar with it.

The squadrons stationed at Fort Defense were responsible for patrolling the borders from Fort Defense along the Mongavarian-Escarlish border to the south and along the Mongavarian-Tarenhieli border at the Hydalla River for the same distance east. It was a large amount of territory to cover, even aided by the slower moving airships .

The colonel also went through the list of the various Alliance airships currently in the air along the patrol route, including which ones had newly installed shortwave radios that could pick up transmissions from the aeroplanes.

“Capt. Laesornysh, your squadron is on standby. You are required to remain in the hangar, ready to scramble into the air at a moment’s notice if incoming enemy aeroplanes are reported.

The mess will send up sandwiches for your lunch.

” Colonel Dentley gestured in the direction of the rest of the hangar.

“Keep two to four aeroplanes in the air at all times so that they can intercept the enemy if needed to buy the rest of the squadron time to get into the air.”

“Yes, sir.” Fieran nodded. After being off-duty since their arrival yesterday, it made sense to give them this place in the rotation. They’d just flown long distances the previous two days so it would have been rough to spend another nearly full day in the air on the extended patrols.

That left Capt. Fleetwood and his squadron off-duty, though even they needed to be ready to report in the case of a full-scale attack.

After Colonel Dentley dismissed them, he and Lt. Busher left, followed by Capt. Fleetwood and the four lieutenants for the other two squadrons.

But Capt. Kentworth lingered for a moment, glowering at Fieran.

He didn’t speak until their commanding officer was out of earshot.

“You might have gained some fame because of the battles you’ve fought and the name you carry but make no mistake.

You and your squadron are still green compared to me and my men.

You’ve faced the enemy twice. My men have engaged the enemy twice just this week.

You have no idea what it takes to fly these skies. ”

With that, the other captain spun on his heel. At the door he paused and turned back to them. “Oh. And the artwork on your aeroplanes is garish.”

With that, he let the heavy metal door slam shut behind him.

Merrik sighed and braced himself with the table at his back. “It would be nice if at least one of our commanding officers did not dislike you on sight.”

“Hey, Capt. Arfeld liked me just fine.” Fieran jabbed a finger at Lt. Rothilion, who stood on the far side of the table with his arms crossed over his chest. “And I won him over eventually.”

“No longer disliking you does not mean you won me over .” Lt. Rothilion’s blank expression didn’t change. “Nor can you deny that you walk with a certain arrogance that annoys those around you.”

Was that something almost like a glint of humor in Lt. Rothilion’s tone? If Fieran hadn’t grown up reading that subtle elven humor, he might have missed it.

Or maybe he was imaging things. Just because he saved Lt. Rothilion’s life and earned a modicum of respect didn’t mean Lt. Rothilion considered him a friend.

“I don’t try to appear arrogant.” Fieran shifted, not liking how that got under his skin. “And I certainly can’t help it if people assume I got where I am because of my family name.”

More heat came through those words than he intended. How he hated having to fight this same battle over and over again every time he met a new person. They took one look at his last name and dismissed him.

He would never regret who his family was, and he wouldn’t change it even if he could.

“The Half-Breed Squadron will prove itself soon enough.” Merrik turned around to face the chart. “We should discuss our plan and get aeroplanes in the air before we are yelled at for being late again.”

Right. Trust Merrik to keep him grounded.

Fieran sprawled in a low chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. His thigh-high flight boots sat beside him while his leather, fleece-lined coat lay over the back of the chair.

How many more layers could he take off while still counting as flight-ready? Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades and down his face even though all he was doing was just sitting there.

The metal sided and roofed hangar baked like a giant tin box in the scorching Escarlish summer sun.

Set on the flat bluffs beside the Hydalla River, the hangar didn’t even have the shadows or elevation of the mountains to provide some relief.

Nor were any of the few trees the elves had grown by their accommodations tall enough to shade the massive hangar.

After the cool weather and chilly sea breezes of Dar Goranth, Escarland’s far hotter summer weather felt like even more of a whiplash.

The occasional whiff of a breeze drifted off the Hydalla River below the bluffs or down from the mountains. But most of the air movement in the hangar came from the large industrial fans of the style used in factories in Aldon to clear the air.

Tiny moved between each of the fans, creating ice blocks with his magic.

The fans blew the air cooled by the ice into the building, providing breaths of relief from the heat.

He’d packed ice around the remainders of the sandwiches from lunch, trying to keep the meat from going off in the heat.

But any relief from the heat was momentary.

Pip strode around the nearest aeroplane.

She’d piled her dark brown hair high at the back of her head, though strands frizzed out from the messy bun.

Instead of the long-sleeved coveralls, she’d opted for sleeveless overalls over a loose shirt with sleeves rolled up past her elbows.

A wrench was tucked into one of the deep pockets while grease smears decorated the front of the green canvas on her legs.

She sank to the floor next to his chair where the fan’s breeze reached her face. “I’d forgotten how abominably hot Escarland is in the summer.”

“It’s only going to get worse.” Fieran tipped his head against the back of his chair, tugging at his collar to get more air movement to his neck. “It’s still early in the summer.”

“This is nothing.” Lije spoke from where he was stretched out on the concrete floor, using his flight hat and coat for a pillow. “Where I come from in southern Escarland by the border with Groyria, the humidity makes it feel like you’re breathing underwater.”

“That sounds awful.” Pip shuddered, waving at her face with both hands, as if trying to draw the mildly cooler air from the fan toward her. “The heat and humidity here are already getting to my hair as it is.”

Fieran couldn’t work up the energy to lift his head.

A pang shot through him at memories of sitting on the back patio at Treehaven beneath the shade of the trees and sipping a glass of Aunt Patience’s fresh lemonade.

Or lounging on the porch in Estyra with the slightly cooler temperatures found farther north and the dense foliage of Tarenhiel’s ancient forests shading the elven city.

Padding across the cement floor in his socks, Merrik approached, gripping the bundle of his warm flight clothing under an arm. “We should get ready. We’re due to go up in a few minutes.”

“Finally.” Fieran couldn’t wait to get into the cooler temperatures found high in the sky.

Not to mention the chance to actually do something, even if it was circling the sky over Fort Defense. He hadn’t anticipated how boring it would be to be on standby here in the hangar. They weren’t supposed to leave the hangar, much less wander down to Little Aldon.

If it wasn’t so hot, he would have gotten out his swords again and practiced with Merrik or even Lt. Rothilion, if the two of them could keep the bout civil. Or he would have joined Pip in fiddling with something magical or mechanical on the aeroplanes.

Instead, it was too hot to do anything but sit in front of the fans and sweat.