Free Vikings battle Zeppelins while forbidden desires spark! (Swords Versus Tanks Book 2) by M Harold Page Page A

threw him back up into the sky.
    He flailed his arms and screamed, then landed again, this time on all fours. He spread-eagled himself on the silk, his heart hammering against his breastbone.
    The silk reverberated to the drum beat of mailed housecarls striking its hull. Steeling himself, he raised his head and looked around. Three dozen warriors now clung to the wide dorsal of the airship, mail flickering in the light from the burning castle.
    Maud stood on the battlements of the Sea Tower, arm outstretched, hair dancing like flames in the wind.
    The airship juddered and tilted like a longship in a swell.

 
    CHAPTER NINE
     
    The Evade Now siren howled.
    The Radar Operator yelped. "Multiple incoming missiles! We’re dead!"
    Jasmine turned to the radar console. A swarm of glowing white dots filled the screen but there was no sudden impact. “Not yet.” She shouted, “Somebody fucking do something!”
    Jasmine’s stomach dropped towards her boots.
    "Emergency Ballast away," announced the Pilot.
    The dots froze, as if etched into the screen, then slowly lined up and moved in file towards the centre of the display. The Radar Operator slapped the side of the console as if that would help. "Something’s wrong with the fucking valves."
    The hairs stood up on the back of Jasmine’s neck. She leaned over the Control Car’s railings and tapped Lowenstein’s shoulder. "Parachute. Now."
    #
    The airship lifted, pressing Ranulph down into the taut silk skin, triggering cries of fear from the housecarls.
    Ranulph forced himself up onto his knees. He waved Steelcutter and bellowed, “Gentlemen. Gather in to that fence.” Without waiting for their response, he crawled toward what he hoped would turn out to be an entrance.
    The hatch wasn’t even bolted.
    Clutching Steelcutter in one hand, Ranulph squeezed himself into the shaft. His foot found a rung and —
    - the vessel twitched.
    Ranulph’s shoe slipped and he plummeted, sword rattling on the rungs. He opened his legs, trying to brace against the walls, but found only a soft resistance.
    His feet slammed into something... someone . The person grunted, crumpled, throwing him sideways.
    Fabric broke Ranulph's fall, then tore.
    Again, he plummeted.
    #
    Jasmine tightened Lowenstein's straps. "Pull the ripcord as soon as you're clear. Get to high ground. Use your flares so the other ship will pick you up."
    The Elitist scientist nodded. "And you?"
    "You're our Gate expert. I'm not — "
    "False alarm, folks!" The Radar Operator thumped his apparatus. "Fucking heap of junk!” From above came a thud and a scream. The canvas ceiling tore. Glass shattered. “Oh shit! "
    Jasmine drew her Boarding Gun and turned to the source of the noise.
    Sir Ranulph now towered from the top of the radar console, sword raised, sparks flying from his boots. He was still in his feasting clothes, but soot marred his white shirt.
    Jasmine felt a pang of relief. If Sir Ranulph was alive, then so was Maud. She shoved Lowenstein towards the nearest escape hatch. "Get out and jump while we're still near land."
    Ranulph glared at her over the heads of the crew. Without breaking eye contact, he hammered his fists down. Steelcutter’s pommel smashed into the Radar Operator’s skull. Bone cracked. The corpse slammed into the deck.
    Men and women erupted out of their seats and fumbled for their Boarding Guns. The priests abandoned their altar and scurried toward the stern.
    Sir Ranulph sprang clear of the console. His sword licked out, daubing the cabin walls with blood, and still he advanced on Jasmine.
    The crew scurried across deck, scattering like chickens before the feudal killing machine. A dozen mailed warriors dropped through the canvas ceiling and landed amongst them.
    Jasmine raised her Boarding Gun and fired, even as she recognised Thorolf, the captain of Ragnar’s bodyguard. The dart zipped into the warrior’s mailed breast, then dropped to the floor at his feet.
    Thorolf roared and swung his