The Hellhound Consortium

by B A Simmons

  “Right then!” he bellowed after all the names were taken. “I’m Charlie Burke of Aruth. I’ve fought wars on islands from here to the Thousand Isles. If you meechers want to survive a Falcon invasion, you’d best listen to everything I tell you. Follow every order I give you, when I give it to you, and no backtalk! I’ll send you back to your goats and fish faster than you can spit.”

  He paced up and down the line of men staring them down. A few returned the stare, most looked away uncomfortably.

  “I’ll be teaching you how to fight, but let’s get one thing straight before I do. None of you are heroes! None of you are going to become heroes. Heroes die honorably in battle, saving the lives of those they love. Heroes throw themselves on grenades, run in front of firing lines, and stand against the advancing enemy when all others run away. Anyone here want to die in such a way?”

  He paused for effect. No one moved or said anything.

  “I didn’t think so. Now drop and give me twenty push-ups!”

  Again, no one moved.

  Charlie screamed, “I said drop and give me twenty!”

  One young fisherman raised his hand and said timidly, “Sir? What’s a push-up?”

  Charlie massaged his brow and sighed. He was about to explain the procedure in the rudest way possible when he heard a voice calling out from the road.

  Everyone turned to see a young boy, perhaps twelve years old, running full-tilt toward the farm. It was impossible to make out what he was yelling until he was at the hacklebush hedge that separated the pasture from the Engleman garden.

  “They’re here! They’re here!” the boy shouted.

  They all knew who he was talking about. The men in the pasture all began talking at once. Several of them started to leave. Charlie bellowed louder than he’d ever had to before.

  “Stay put!”

  A calm fell on the scene and Charlie approached the boy, whom he recognized as one of those he’d trained to watch the sea.

  “What do you have to report?”

  Between sharp puffs of breath, the boy said, “A ship . . . with the . . . double-headed . . . falcon on . . . the sail!”

  “How far out was it when you left your post?”

  “A couple of miles . . . and coming down the east side . . . of the island.”

  Charlie tousled the boy’s hair and smiled.

  “You men get home to your families and tell everyone you meet not to panic. They’re not going to invade us with a single ship,” Charlie then turned to Richard and said, “Get down to the docks at Port John and tell Tom and Pete to get their ships underway. They’re to sail westward around the island and wait to be signaled from the North Pinnacle watch station.”

  Richard set off at once. Charlie shouted out to Brandt who was no longer bored by the goings-on. “You there. Go find Mark and tell him we’ve got a Falcon ship approaching.”

  News spreads fast on the small island. The young boy had shouted his message throughout Harrisville and from there the panic spread. Despite efforts to quell the tumult, even the more levelheaded were fearful of the Falcon ship now making its way along their eastern coast.

  After hearing a full report from his younger brother, Mark sprinted at full speed to Port John where he met Trina, Roger, and George Beckworth. Many of the hotheads who lived at Port John had assembled near the docks with bows and fishing spears. One of them had fashioned a flail with a hacklebush knob on the beating end. Though only twelve armed islanders and mercenaries assembled near the docks, they made for a cold reception party.

  “Put away your weapons,” Mark ordered when he saw them. “We aren’t going to fight today.”

  Roland Apgood, the mayor’s son, shifted his bow from one hand to the other. “We’re ready for them, Mark. The Falcons who shot Alfie are going to pay. We won’t let them set foot on this island and live to tell of it.”

  “I applaud your bravery and willingness to defend our home. However, if the Falcon Empire was going to invade us today, they’d have more than one ship coming into this bay. Now where are the Entdecker and Alphina?”

  Trina answered. “Tom and Pete set sail as soon as Richard arrived with the news. They’re already nearing the point of the peninsula. Jacob, Tim, Richard, and a few Engle Islanders went with them as crew.”

  Roland spoke again, “Mark, what if this is just a decoy? What if they mean to lure us here while a larger force lands on the north side of the island?”

  Mark smirked, “Our watchmen are still on the lookout at the north pinnacle. They’d see any other ships approaching. Listen, we saw several ships around Alimia in the weeks before they invaded that island. We didn’t know what they were up to then, but we know now. They’re scouting us out. This one ship is just here to see who we are and what we have. So let’s all just stay calm. Go back to your homes and put away your weapons. I won’t ask again.”

  As the hotheads moped away from the docks, Trina stepped closer to Mark, speaking low. “You really think this is just a scouting party?”

  “They might not even make a landing. If they do, they’ll likely send a small group ashore to talk. The last thing we should do is engage them.”

  “I agree,” Roger said. “If they even suspected that this island is harboring the people who’ve been attacking them . . . us that is, then they’d want to check it out. Perhaps they’re just curious about who lives here.”

  “Or perhaps they know this is the only island where an insurgency could be based and they’re ready for an assault. Not an invasion, but a raid like the one we made against them,” Trina said.

  “I still think they’d send more than one ship, even just for a raid.”

  Yet Trina caught a glimpse of doubt in Mark’s eyes. He turned his face away as he noticed another group of people approaching. Mark clenched his teeth at the sight of Anna, Rob, Charlie, and several more from Harrisville, all armed.

  “I told you to stay home. There’s not going to be a fight,” he said to Anna.

  “If there’s not going to be a fight then why do I have to stay home?” she replied with a sly grin.

  “If we’re hoping they’re here to make peace, we should give them the chance. Otherwise, we should be ready to spill their blood and take that ship,” Charlie said.

  “They’ll be more likely to seek peace if we’re not all standing on the docks armed to the teeth,” Roger said.

  “Yes, everyone please just go away from here. If they come ashore, we’ll talk to them at the docks. Anna, get everyone inside the inn and keep them quiet.”

  Again, there were murmurs and grumbles of disapproval as Rob and Anna herded the men into the FitzHugh’s inn. Charlie obstinately remained and began walking toward the docks.

  “Just tell them I’m the sheriff,” he said in response to Mark’s scowl.

  “Rob, I need you to go get Mayor Apgood and bring him down to the docks. Tell him he needs to be here to greet our Falcon guests.”

  The mayor was less than enthusiastic about his duty. Nevertheless, wearing his best tunic and with the chain of office hanging around his shoulders, he accompanied Rob down to the docks just as the Falcon ship turned into the bay.

  At the docks, Mark and Edwin were aboard the Anna Louisa, looking through Edwin’s far-see at their approaching visitors. Roger stood on the dock, along with George, but Trina and Charlie had disappeared.

  “Ah, Mayor Apgood,” Mark said as they came up to the waterfront. “Thank you for coming. Now sir, despite all that you’ve heard about the Falcon Empire on Alimia, I want you to act as if you’ve never even heard of them before. Okay?”

  “What? Why? Why should I pretend not to know anything?”

  “We don’t want them to know that we’re against them,” Mark explained. “Just tell them that you’re the mayor of the town and you welcome them to the island.”

  Apgood looked about as comfortable as a goat in a slaughter house.

  “What if they ask about the war? Like, about if I know anything about yo
u?”

  “Me? I’m just an ordinary fisherman. Edwin is just a visiting merchant. Rob is your assistant and Roger will translate, if necessary. You don’t know anything about a war. Do you understand, sir? There is no war.”

  “There is no war,” Apgood repeated nervously. “You’re just a man, he’s just a merchant.”

  “Don’t forget the smile,” Rob said. “Be friendly with them.”

  The Falcon ship entered the bay just after the Entdecker and Alphina disappeared around the peninsula. The Falcons did not sail up to the docks. They dropped anchor farther out in the bay and launched a rowboat. As the small boat approached, they could see a man standing on the prow. He was dressed in an ornate bronze breastplate and a helmet with white plumes on top. A long, thin sword was buckled to his waist and black polished boots trimmed with fur covered his legs below the crimson sailing trousers. This was not just an officer, he was of noble birth and a wealthy family. His rowers were also uniformed in the traditional white and red of the Falcon Navy.

  They came alongside the dock, and George and Mark helped secure the dinghy while a Falcon sailor helped boost the officer up to the wooden platform. Rob had to stand close behind Mayor Apgood to keep him from retreating.

  The officer approached the mayor, sizing him up before speaking.

  “Ah-lowah. Ay am Capitano Giacomo Rossini off de Navy Imperiale. To whom-a do ay ’ave de privilege of a-speaking?”

  Rob gently nudged Apgood with his foot to prompt him.

  “Uh . . . I’m Sam Apgood . . . um, mayor of Port John. Welcome, uh . . . to Engle Isle. How can we be of service to you?”

  Rob noticed that as Apgood was speaking, Rossini’s eyes wandered around the docks. He examined each of them, their clothes, their countenances; his dark eyes pierced theirs in momentary gazes.

  “Wee arrah in need off fresha watur. An eef you ’ave a-food suplaiza, we weel purchass dem also.”

  Apgood looked confused and turned his pleading eyes to Rob.

  “We can supply you with water from our town well. What kind of food are you looking to resupply with?” Rob said.

  Rossini again turned his intense eyes on Rob. “Watah do you ’ave to ohffur?”

  It was clear he wanted to have a look at the town beyond the docks. Mark gave Rob a surreptitious nod and, with George at his side, walked toward the FitzHugh’s inn.

  “If you’ll follow us,” Rob told Rossini, “the mayor and I will direct you to our mercantile store and you can see what’s available.”

  The Falcon captain turned to his awaiting men and called out orders in Iyty. Two of the men joined him while the others began rowing back to their ship.

  “My men weel geet ohwer watur caskahs whyal aye see your-ah stoor.”

  Escorted by Rob and Roger, Apgood led the way from the docks to the mercantile owned by the Guilderoy family. The Falcon sailors, with their captain, followed close behind taking in all they could with their eyes and occasionally pointing at various houses, gardens, and the occasional curious onlooker.

  Mark had disappeared into the inn while George stood guard at the door keeping a stern eye on the Falcon ship.

  The Guilderoys were astonished to see three Falcon sailors enter their store, escorted by Rob, Roger, and Mayor Apgood. Their anxiety was most apparent when Rossini asked them to describe the bulk goods they had available. As Adam Guilderoy flubbed his answers, Roger listened intently to the two crewmen as they chatted about the island.

  Roger was able to piece together that the Falcon ship, called the Perla de Margareta, was a supply ship that had arrived at Alimia soon after the raid. They’d been ordered by the commander on Alimia to investigate Engle Isle. The two crewmembers thought the island was too backward and simple to be a pirate base. They joked among themselves about how intimidated the islanders seemed by them and about how Rossini was eating up the attention. They seemed to think their captain was too proud. They referred to him as a pavone, which was a word Roger did not understand.

  In any case, by the time Rossini was done selecting his goods in the necessary quantities, the two men were more than ready to head back to their ship.

  “Aye weel sendah payament witha my men when dey com to receivah de goods,” Rossini promised.

  “You are too generous,” Apgood said and for the first time that morning managed to smile.

  “Your town iss lovely. Aye weesh aye ’ad moor time-ah to ah-see it. Iss de only town on de aye-land, yes?”

  “Well no, actually, the town of . . .” Apgood caught the stern look Rob was giving over Rossini’s shoulder. “Well, it’s not really much of a town . . . more a village, really.”

  “Aye see. Yes, uno villaggo. Witha moor people.”

  “Only a few . . . we’re a small island really.”

  Rossini stared at Apgood for a moment, but it was long enough to make the poor mayor break out in a cold sweat.

  “I’m sure your boat has returned with your water barrels by now,” Rob said.

  Without speaking, Rossini turned and walked out of the mercantile store. His crew was indeed hauling their barrels to the town well where George had repositioned himself to give them assistance. In truth, he wanted to be sure the Falcons didn’t put anything in their water, but he did well in feigning charity.

  Rossini called out for his men to hurry the work. His charm and politeness seemed to have disappeared as he strode quickly to his ship’s boat. He waited there as the water and food were delivered by the islanders and carefully loaded by his crew. His piercing eyes glared back at those assembled on the docks as they rowed him back to the Perla de Margareta.

  It was then that Rob noticed Charlie out in his uncle’s skiff. Charlie was rowing placidly past the Falcons with a fishing net dragging from the stern. Rob knew the bay well enough to realize that there were no fish worth catching there. Rob looked around for Mark and found him near the Anna Louisa talking with Roger and Edwin. He approached the three men and overheard their exchange.

  “I realize that,” Edwin said. “But you told everyone there wasn’t going to be a fight.”

  “I know, and believe me, I wish we didn’t have to. But you heard what Roger said.”

  “I didn’t,” Rob interjected himself. “Care to fill me in, Roger?”

  Roger looked pained to repeat the news. “I overheard Captain Rossini as they were loading the supplies. He told his men to get him out of this den dei ladri—this den of thieves.”

  “It means he went from thinking we were a harmless community to suspecting we’re pirates,” Mark said. “If we let Rossini report that to the commander on Alimia, we can expect an attack within a fortnight.”

  “How do you plan on stopping him?” Rob asked.

  “With the huller.”

  Rob’s brow scrunched for a moment until his mind brought him a memory—Lord Tremblay’s shop on Fallen Dome, and the drilling device that attached to a ship’s hull and created an unstoppable leak.

  “You’re going to sink the ship?”

  “Trina’s swimming alongside Charlie now. She’ll attach it and set the trigger to start drilling as soon as they sail away,” Roger said.

  “It will even the odds of a confrontation. They’ll be without any cannon on board and likely without weapons,” Mark added.

  “Do you plan to kill the whole crew?”

  Mark glared at Rob’s suggestion. “Of course not. I expect they’ll abandon the ship once they realize that it’s a lost cause. We’ll demand their surrender and hold them prisoner until the war is over.”

  “And how long will that be?” Edwin asked sardonically.

  “And where will we hold a dozen or more Falcon sailors?” Rob said.

  There was no answer from any of them. Rob was unsure how to react to the situation. On the one hand, he was glad there hadn’t been bloodshed and proud of his brother for trying to avoid it. Now that this hope was being shattered and he could see how much it bothered Mark, he wasn’t sure letting them come ashore had be
en such a good idea. It seemed that when it came to dealing with the Falcon Empire, there was no way to really win.

  A bell sounded in the bay. The Perla de Margareta had weighed anchor and unfurled her sails. Townspeople who had hidden during Rossini’s inspection now flocked to the shore to watch the departing ship. The ship sailed peacefully out toward the entrance of the bay. Soon afterward, Charlie came back to the docks with a soaking-wet and out-of-breath Trina. They were soon joined by Anna and the hotheads.

  “The ship doesn’t seem to be sinking,” Mark said. “Did you set the huller above the ballast line?”

  “I’m not a meecher,” Trina said. “I waited for them to get underway before I pulled the rope attached to the trigger. Their hold is filling with water as we speak.”

  “Wait, what?” Anna said.

  “We have to stop them from leaving. The captain suspects we’re involved with the attacks on Alimia,” Rob explained.

  “How did he figure that out?”

  Rob shrugged. “Mark, at the rate they’re taking on water, they’ll be out of the bay before they abandon ship. We need to get out to the peninsulas to meet them.”

  Mark turned to Edwin. “We need the Anna Louisa.”

  “You want my ship involved in this?”

  “I want yours and all the fishing skiffs we’ve got in the bay. Get the mercenaries aboard and send a signal out to Tom and Pete. Tell them to turn around and get back to the bay.”

  Anna wasted no time in casting off the moorings holding the Anna Louisa to the dock, and she and Mark joined Edwin on board. George and three other islanders boarded the skiff, which Charlie had yet to vacate. Two other skiffs near the docks were commandeered, Roger took command of one while Rob, with guilt eating at his heart, reluctantly led the other with Trina jumping aboard at the last moment.