The Steam Spy (Steam World Book 2), page 1
The Steam Spy
Todd J. McCaffrey
A Foxxe Frey Book
THE STEAM SPY
Copyright © 2022 Todd J. McCaffrey
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright holder, except where permitted by law. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.
Synopsis: A spy is sent to save a kingdom in this thrilling alternate history after ‘Bonnie Prince Charlie’ wins the throne of England.
Cover: Todd McCaffrey
Books by Todd McCaffrey
Science fiction
Ellay
The Jupiter Game
The Steam Walker
Canaris Rift Series
Raw Space
The King’s Ghosts
Witch’s Brew
Pirate Queen
War Maid
War Ring
Collections
The One Tree of Luna (And Other Stories)
Dare To Be Mighty (A collection of F&SF Stories)
Dragonriders of Pern® Series
Dragon’s Kin
Dragon’s Fire
Dragon Harper
Dragonsblood
Dragonheart
Dragongirl
Dragon’s Time
Sky Dragons
Nonfiction
Dragonholder: The Life And Times (so far) of Anne McCaffrey
Dragonwriter: A tribute to Anne McCaffrey and Pern
Books by The Winner Twins and Todd McCaffrey
Nonfiction
The Write Path: World Building
Books by McCaffrey-Winner
The Magpie’s War
Twin Soul Series
TS1 - Winter Wyvern
TS2 - Cloud Conqueror
TS3 - Frozen Sky
TS4 - Wyvern’s Fate
TS5 - Wyvern’s Wrath
TS6 - Ophidian’s Oath
TS7 - Snow Serpent
TS8 - Iron Air
TS9 - Ophidian’s Honor
TS10 - Healing Fire
TS11 - Ophidian’s Tears
TS12 - Cloud War
TS13 - Steel Waters
TS14 - Cursed Mage
TS15 - Wyvern’s Creed
TS16 - King’s Challenge
TS17 - King’s Conquest
TS18 - King’s Treasure
TS19 - Wyvern Rider
TS20 - King’s Crown
To see the full list, scan the QR Code
Dedication
In Memory Of
Eric Flint
Contents
Chapter One 9
Chapter Two 16
Chapter Three 29
Chapter Four 36
Chapter Five 47
Chapter Six 75
Chapter Seven 93
Chapter Eight 114
Chapter Nine 129
Chapter Ten 140
Chapter Eleven 149
Chapter Twelve 160
Chapter Thirteen 176
A SNEAK PEEK AT – 180
THE STEAM CROWN – Chapter One 181
Acknowledgments 193
About the Author 194
Chapter One
1747 In The Year Of Our Lord
In the spring of my fourteenth year, in the fourth year of my training, I was ordered to my Master’s study.
My mother was waiting outside the double doors. Her eyes traveled over me critically. She was unsatisfied. She hobbled over to me and slid the leather strap of my necklace under my shirt. Ashamed, I lowered my eyes.
She hobbled back to her place.
Master’s rules on the strap that held the small leather bag around my neck were strict: in company I was to keep it hidden; in private I was to display it at all times on penalty of whipping — or worse.
A bell rang inside the study and my Master’s voice boomed out, “Send her in.”
I shot a glance to my mother. I could see that she wanted to accompany me. Instead, she limped back a step or two.
I raised my head and nodded, as I was taught, to my Master, and walked into the study.
My mother, emboldened, followed on my tail. “Can I bring anything?”
Master frowned at her impertinence but waved her away. “I’ll ring if I need.”
“Sir,” Mother said, lowering her head and retreating, carefully closing the doors with an audible click.
Inside, I stood waiting. The Captain was seated with his back to me but he craned his neck around for a moment before languidly returning his gaze to the big table to which my Master returned.
“Step closer,” Master ordered, as he sat down, “so the Captain can see you.”
I did as told, calming my breath as taught even though inside I was trembling. Was I to be sold? Would I never see my mother again?
Why else would I be here? Master Evans loudly proclaimed to any who would listen that he raised “good horses and passable slaves, preferring mares in both.”
It was only recently that he’d decided to branch out.
“I had not thought she’d be so tall,” the captain said after a moment, his eyes still traveling over me. I had suffered such looks before; they made my stomach queasy.
“She’s well-fed,” my Master replied, adding with a chuckle, “comes from good stock.”
“Was that her mother?” The Captain said, jerking his head toward the door.
Master Evans nodded.
“Is she ready?” The captain said, turning back to me.
Master Evans looked at me and ordered, “Describe the current state of the empire.”
“Massuh,” I began, “it is the year of Our Lord 1747, King Charles III reigns on the throne of England.” The captain yawned theatrically. “The King reigns over a troubled land in troubled times.
“There are those who say that he arranged for his father, James, to die so that he could accede early to the throne.” I could see the captain’s eyes narrow. “His brother, Prince Henry, remains a ‘guest’ of the Pope in Rome — held in an effort to control the King.
“King Louis XV of France has been trying unsuccessfully to acquire some of the Steam Walkers that were used to bring the crown to Charles. Our King is not so pleased with the French, who treated him niggardly and now seem to feel allowed to impose on his allegiance.
“I predict that will not last,” I said, casting my eyes quickly toward the captain to gauge his reaction.
“The rest of Europe is in upheaval, held in abeyance only by the threat of the Steam Walkers,” I continued. “King Frederick in Prussia fears that Queen Maria Theresa in Austria will get them before he does and recapture the disputed territory of Silesia from him. He is busy trying to build an alliance with the other German princes, including the survivors of the House of Hanover.” I paused for a moment. “His main aim is to form an alliance to attack England, put the Hanoverian princes back on the throne and capture the Steam Walkers and the Royal Steam Artificer, Sir Hamish MacAllister.
“That is the aim of most kings,” I continued. “There have been overtures from the King of Spain to buy Steam Walkers, matched readily by those of Piedmont and the Austrians.” I paused. “I am given to understand that the Ottoman Empire is considering a war with Austria in the hopes of capturing a Walker of its own or forestalling conquest by Europe.
“The Northern Provinces, including Holland, are eager to acquire Steam Walkers and even steamships if possible.” I paused for a moment, then continued, “In short, Charles’ grasp on the throne of England rests on his monopoly of the Steam Walkers.”
“None of this is news,” the captain interjected, looking at my Master. “Do you train her by rote, then?”
My Master’s lips tightened and he glared at me. “Continue.”
“What is most evident,” I continued, feeling slightly irked with the captain and emboldened by my reception so far, “is that the King has no Walkers nor can he build them.”
“What?” the captain exclaimed, rising out of his chair and turning angrily toward me.
“The last reliable report of a working Walker was over a year ago,” I said, unperturbed. “And that was of the Walker Dominion which, as is known, exploded on its way back to Edinburgh.” The captain’s lips tightened. Clearly he knew of this, and just as clearly he had not expected me to know. He sat back down, his expression clouded. “There are rumors that it was destroyed on purpose by revolutionaries. There are also rumors that Sir MacAllister is busily constructing larger, more powerful machines, and will shortly deliver them to the King’s arsenal.” The captain seemed relieved to hear me say that. He was not so relieved when I continued, “Those rumors are all false.
“Information has come to us here to indicate that Sir MacAllister’s attempts to rely on the wits and wisdom of his young wife, the former Danielle Walker, have been unfruitful,” I said. “From what has reached our ears, he has resorted to repeatedly beating her —”
“How did you hear this?” the captain interrupted, leaping from his chair and looking at my Master accusingly.
My Master spread his hands and his lips curled upwards. “I have my ways.” He gestured for me to continue.
“The result of those beatings may have been to addle her wits and certainly was the cause of her first miscarriage,” I continued.
“I hadn’t heard she was pregnant!”
“She is once again with child and, apparently, sequestered,” I continued. He was surprised and impressed. “Without working Walkers, King Charles is in peril for his throne. He has spent lavishly to build favor with those of his own party and those of the opposition but his treasury is running bare, he is running out of options, and must cease prevaricating with the French, the Pope, and the rest of Europe, or risk a fall more disastrous than his namesake, King Charles II.”
“Hmph!” the captain grunted. He turned to my Master. “A very good summary, though troubling.” He waved a hand. “But as for this girl... she seems no more than a parrot trained to speak.”
“And listen,” my Master added gently. He glanced at me. “Tell us what you know of the captain here.”
“The captain arrived here three days ago,” I said. The captain snorted derisively: that was not news to anyone. “He rode on a poorly broken horse which he bought at the dockside for a full guinea, clearly getting the worst of the bargain. He paid another two guineas for saddle and bridle, marking him out to all in the colony as a bad bargainer and a poor man operating on orders from the Crown.”
The captain’s grunt now was angry.
“He is supposed to be traveling incognito but has elected to wear his uniform in an effort to assert his authority,” I continued. “This indicates that power worries him, which is not unremarkable given that he is the fourth son of a relatively poor nobleman who seeks to curry favor wherever —”
“That is not true!” The captain leapt from his chair, his hand raised to smack me on the face.
“Sir!” Master Evans said, raising his voice. “The treatment of my property is for me to handle.”
The captain lowered his hand and glared at Master Evans. “You should train your property to respect its betters then, sir.”
Master Evans ignored that, turning to me. “Continue.”
“As I said, Captain Willoughby Rice Morton was commissioned into the King’s Royal Irish in the past year,” I continued. “His father directed him to the Admiralty where he came to the attention of those involved in gathering intelligence. They directed him here, to evaluate me for employment.”
“All this you could have told her,” Captain Morton said to my Master. Master Evans accepted this with a nod, then glanced back toward me.
I continued: “From this, I conclude that the Admiralty is acting under the orders of His Majesty with a view toward collecting any information regarding the sighting of steam ships that were also constructed by the Walker yard in Edinburgh.
“There are various reports indicating that three steamships were constructed and used in transporting artillery and an improved version of the Walker down to London to participate in the Great Stomp. Those Walkers, under the overall command of then Colonel, now General, Lord Drummond, were responsible for the assault on King George’s caravan which resulted in the death of the King and his family.
“All those Walkers were destroyed in the action, as well as five of the original six built, making the efficacy of the Walkers as instruments of war somewhat questionable,” I said. “Nevertheless, the Walkers proved themselves invaluable and so, merely by the rumor of their existence, have altered the balance of power throughout the known world.
“If there are also still steam ships,” I pressed on, “and if they actually were equipped as ships of war, they too would represent a complete change in the balance of power.
“Either or both represent a tremendous wealth to the Empire, a wealth that the King needs desperately to exploit,” I said. “That he hasn’t done so in the past two years is clear evidence that he can’t.
“Such conclusions are now being drawn by those in Europe, particularly by King Frederick of Prussia who is busily forming an alliance to restore the Hanover line to the throne of England.
“At the same time, the French and, to a lesser extent, all other powers are scrambling to re-create Walkers of their own.” I paused. “Their efforts have been unsuccessful as have the efforts here in the Colonies, as can readily be comprehended by all the reports of boiler explosions throughout the known world.
“As no word has been heard of the steam ships for the past two years, it is possible that they were either never built or have since sunk, probably as a result of the action reported by the frigate Reliant, then under King George’s command.”
“Oh, so you heard of that,” Captain Morton murmured.
“There exists a third option,” I continued, “that the ships are still extant, have turned pirate, or are operating incognito under letters of marque. The King’s men are encouraging this third viewpoint, clearly in an attempt to create additional respect for the ships of the Empire.
“If they are still under the King’s arms, they will have to be sighted within the next several months or their effectiveness will vanish.”
“So why am I here?” Captain Morton asked me directly for the first time.
“You have been commissioned to investigate the possibility of hiring me as a spy for His Majesty the King,” I said. “Generally, there are some unsettling questions which remain to be answered.”
“Such as?”
“Such as, why have no new Walkers been built? What happened to the steam ships and why aren’t more of those also being built? And what has happened to Danielle Walker?”
“Hmpph!” Captain Morton snorted. He looked at my Master. “Your slave is insolent but not very intelligent, sir. Otherwise she would understand how it is with women in childbirth.”
Master Evans gave him a tight, vulpine smile. He nodded for me to answer.
“Captain, suh,” I said, carefully choosing the more slavish ‘suh’ to pander to him, “I was raised here. My Master breeds horses and slaves. I’ve sat in on most of the birthings here since I was old enough to carry a bucket. I mean no disrespect, suh, but I thinks that if this Mrs. MacAllister was the same person who built the Walkers, she would have kept plans.”
“Hmm.”
“Which is why His Majesty sent you to hire me from my Master so that I can track down the real Danielle Walker.”
Captain Morton jumped out of his chair as if stung. He glanced at my Master. “Who else knows this?”
Master Evans gestured for me to answer again.
“Sir, I suspect that you were dispatched here because you are a lowly, unremarkable adjutant,” I replied, taking some small satisfaction at seeing him jerk at the accuracy of my description, “but any intelligent man would have to at least wonder the same. Which means that at this very moment agents of France, Prussia, Austria, and Spain — at the very least — are quartering the area around London and questioning anyone who can remember anything about the battle that is now known as the Great Stomp of London.”
“Your mission is probably still a secret, if secrecy was maintained back in the capital, but those same intelligent men will have concluded that the King has no option but to increase his intelligence on these matters, if he wishes to retain his Crown — and probably, his head.”
“That’s all very well,” Captain Morton said irritably. “However none of this is any indication that you are even remotely suitable for the job.”
“Which, sir, is of no matter,” I replied, “because you must return with someone if your personal mission is to be judged a success. I am the someone most likely, and you will be excused if your ‘pet negro’ fails because you will have clearly only been following your orders.”
Captain Morton grunted angrily. “If I buy her, Master Evans, she will be mine to instruct as I wish.”
Master Evans smiled. “She is not for sale. She is for commission only, sir, and I expect her to be returned in all ways capable of continuing in my service.”
“She is just a slave, and you are a slave-breeder, why not sell her?”
“Because, sir, I have spent the past four years training her to be a spy,” Master Evans said. “She is to be the first of what I hope will be many spies that I breed.”
