by B A Simmons
At night he was able to glimpse the Ayday star after it passed over them. It appeared larger and brighter than before and Rob found himself wondering if only looked that way because it was near the horizon, or because it was coming closer to the planet. These ponderings brought back the memory of Doctor Morris on Hellhound Isle and what he had revealed to Rob there. Despite the pain of these memories, he found himself thinking of this each night as he watched the descent of the ship orbiting high above them.
As the days passed, one fact became abundantly clear. Rob was still a prisoner bound for the Falcon Empire. If this Falcon captain knew his identity, he would face a public execution; perhaps after a meecher trial. Rob’s only chance was that they were clueless about who he was. A surprising realization occurred to him one day, while staring out the window. His actions to save the ship were the true Rob breaking through the sad statue he had become after the car-dun at Hellhound Isle. Now that Piers was gone, he had found himself again.
* * *
He found him! John’s leg throbbed and the rest of him ached after hiking up the narrow trail that ascended the north pinnacle, but he found Riley Engleman. The boy was right where John had told him to be, at the end of the trail, where the boys of the island always stood watch.
“John, I saw our ships!”
“Riley…” John panted, “we have to go.”
“They were both on the west side of the island, then the Alphina sailed across the south end and I thought she would attack the Falcons in the bay, but she didn’t. She went over to the east side and I couldn’t see her anymore.”
“Riley,”
“Then the Old Man sailed north around the island toward the east side also. I could see some flashes of cannon fire from that direction. Then the Old Man disappeared also.”
“Riley!”
“A few minutes later there was a huge explosion!” Riley pointed east.
Following his hand, John saw the column of smoke rising from the eastern-most edge of the island. He pondered for a moment what it might mean, but then brought his attention back to the matter at hand.
“Riley, we have to leave now.”
The young Engleman looked at John and nodded, a smile flashed across his face and for a moment, John thought he was looking at Pete. They began making their way back down the trail and John considered the idea that walking down on a hurt leg was worse than walking up. Along with himself, he still carried his shield, spear and short sword. Riley was armed with an axe and sling, but other than a cuir bouilli cap, he wore no armor.
“The Falcons are burning our farms!” The young man said.
John shook his head and, pausing for a moment, looked back over his shoulder, “No, we’re burning them so the Falcons can’t use them.”
“That means they’re already at Harrisville. How are we going to get into the town?”
“The north gate should still be open to us,” John said, trying to sound confident.
They rounded the eastern most point of the trail, where it narrowed to nothing more than goat’s trail with a sheer cliff leading up the pinnacle, and near vertical drop going down the face. Just ahead of them, the first of the switchbacks considerably evened the slope of the trail.
John stopped dead in his tracks. Riley bumped into him, causing him to put more weight on his wounded leg to keep himself from losing balance.
“What is it!?” Riley said.
“Shhh!”
A squad of Falcon infantry marched up the trail from below them. John could see the six helmets gleaming in the sunlight, a voice speaking in Iyty floated up to the two lone defenders.
“What do we do!?” Riley said.
“Stay calm,” John replied. “and put a stone in that sling.”
John brought his shield up and found the balance point on the haft of his spear. He checked his surroundings and ensured that he was standing just above the narrowest and steepest part of the trail. There was no way for the Falcons to go around him, therefore they would have to go through him.
He looked behind him again. “Keep behind me a few yards, up there where the slope levels. Yes, there on that landing. Gather as many good slinging stones as you can find and support me from there.”
“There’s six of them,” Riley said. There was no mistaking the fear in his voice.
“Yes… only six.”
The lead Falcon turned the corner of the switchback and saw John. He stopped and John could see the surprise on his face. The others protested the pause then quieted down as they too noticed the single-man blockade. An awkward silence ensued where seven men stared at each other for several minutes.
After exchanging a few words in Iyty, the lead man took several cautious steps toward John but remained out of spear range.
“Soor-ender.”
There followed another silent pause before he repeated the word with more force.
“John?” Riley said. “What do you want me to do?”
John shifted his weight in an attempt to make his wounded leg more comfortable while still maintaining his en guard. He laid the spear across the top of his shield with the point aimed at the lead Falcon, before moving his hand further toward the butt to extend the range of the weapon.
“Answer him, Riley,” John said.
He did not look back. He did not need to. While he did not see the stone break against the Falcon’s shield, he heard the crack of its impact and saw the man step back down the trail a pace or two. Riley launched another stone, this one hit with enough force to break the chinstrap off the second man’s helmet and send him tumbling down the steep slope.
The first man marched up the trail to engage John and had to block another stone before he could close the gap. The other four followed behind the lead man, but soon realized they were less than effective given the narrowness of the pathway.
The two soldiers traded jabs, neither succeeding at breaking the other’s defenses. Both men grunted with exertion and both watched their footing as much as each other. After several minutes of clashing spears to shields, the rocks under John’s hurt leg gave out and he went down on knees. Quick to seize victory, the Falcon soldier lowered his shield to ensure John didn’t swipe at his legs and raised his spear for a thrust intended to finish his opponent.
A stone struck his face and sent him down the slope. John was quick to his feet again, but noted the fresh blood staining his trouser leg. As the next Falcon soldier stepped up to challenge him, John wasted no time in feigning another fall on the trail. This Falcon kept his shield up to deflect the stone that came sailing toward his head and was unprotected against John’s upward thrust.
Then there were three. Three soldiers who kept their shields ready and watched for the release of Riley’s sling. The young Engle Islander loosed three more stones; one of which broke the fingers of a recklessly placed hand.
None of the three moved forward to take on the fierce spearman protecting the slinger. Instead, they moved out of Riley’s range. Two of them remained on the trail while the one with the mangled hand ran back down the trail, his shield held over his head, just in case.
John relaxed his posture and beckoned Riley to him. “You did well. Two of the three count as your kills.”
Riley smiled again, but it did not last. His face worried into a scowl. “We’re still stuck up here unless you think we should take those other two.”
John sucked in a hard breath. “As much as I want to, just to get you safely home, mind you; I can’t walk. My leg…”
Riley saw the blood and his face hardened.
“Riley, I need you to pull my boot off and change the bandage on it.” John said.
“Now? With those two right down there watching us?”
“I’ll keep my eyes on them. Right now, I need you to focus on helping me not bleed out.”
Riley followed the orders. He drew out fresh cloth from John’s satchel and after removing the red, soaked rag, wrapped it around the wound.
“Tighter,”
John said, wincing. Again, Riley obeyed, though his face wore as much agony as John’s. He replaced the boot and watched John test his weight on it.
John forced a weak smile to his face. “I promise, by Ayday, I will see you home safe. Even if it means my life.”
“How? How are we going to get down from here?”
“Oh, we need some help. I need you to get the signaling glass and send a call out over the island.”
“The glass is back at the watch post. I can’t leave you alone.”
“You have to. Go, and be quick. That fellow went to get reinforcements; likely they’ll have crossbows. Go! Hurry!”
Riley turned up the trail and ran. He ran harder than he’d ever run in his life. Spurred by desperation for not only his own life, but that of a man he admired as much as his older brothers, he ran without stopping to the top of the steep trail. Once there, he located the glass and the proper angle to reflect the sun. Just as he began the distress signal, his eyes caught sight of a dark shape out on the water to the north.
Using the far-see, he spied out the object and discovered the Alphina limping along toward the west side of the island. He didn’t know what her captain could do to help him, but with the same emotion he’d had when frightened by a nightmare, he sent the distress signal toward the ship. He couldn’t help but tell his big brother that he needed help and he prayed to Ayday that Pete would see the signal.
11
The Old Growth Forest
T he mood aboard the Alphina sank lower than her keel. No one spoke, not even to issue orders, yet all still performed their duties. The loss of the Old Man and her crew weighed heavily on Pete. He had captured the vessel, renamed her, and made Tim Courtney her captain. He always felt that the ships they took from the Falcon’s belonged to them, the Consortium. Yet Tim had traded not only his ship but his own life to save the Alphina. To save Pete and Trina. It was an exchange he felt unworthy of.
Yet their somber faces lifted some as the ship rounded the northeast point of Engle Isle they were not a little surprised to see a small boat headed to shore. Upon seeing the Alphina, the occupants of the boat began waving their arms and calling out. After further inspection, these occupants turned out to be the crew of the Old Man.
Mortimer reported to Pete after being pulled aboard. “Cap’n Pete! I’m sorry sir!”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for; just tell me what happened.”
“Cap’n Tim was like a man possessed. He ordered us to bring all the black powder up to the main deck and place it at the bow. We sailed north at first, with the cap’n at the helm, but he brought us around again to the east side. Just before he took the Old Man around the point, he orders everyone into the boat and says to row for shore.”
“None of you tried to disobey him?!” Pete growled. “No one tried to relieve him of command?! Surely you could see he’d gone meecher!”
“Richard, sir,” Mortimer said.
Pete shook his head. “Richard?”
“Yessir, Richard tried. He pleaded with Cap’n Tim not to do this, but Tim refused.”
Pete looked among the rescued crew. Richard was nowhere to be seen.
“Richard stayed aboard?”
“Yes. In the end, he repeated Tim’s order for us to abandon the ship. We obeyed. Last we saw, the two of them stood together at the tiller, arms around each other.”
Pete forced himself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t Mortimer he was angry at; nor even Tim. He took the responsibility for the deaths of his friends upon himself.
“Get the wounded below,” Pete said.
Mortimer wavered. “What… what did they do?”
Trina stepped forward. “They saved us. Now let’s get to work.”
The ship tacked westward, against the wind, with two men at the pump at all times. This, along with their damaged topsail, made for difficult sailing toward the west side of the island. Smoke could be seen from more sources than Port John. The occasional sound of a distant explosion found its way out to them.
“They’ve fallen back to Harrisville,” Harland said.
“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” Yusef replied.
“I guess… I guess, I thought… hoped, maybe… maybe we could beat them back and keep them from the center of the island.”
Pete stood next to his countrymen and said, “We will beat them back. We just can’t do it without help. Now that the Old Man is gone, we have to make the journey to Isle de James. That is, just as soon as we can get this old girl back into shape. Put extra lookouts along the port side. We need that lumber.”
The afternoon wore on with only a few planks being found floating off the north coast. The summer sun now hung above the north pinnacle (by their perspective) and shined into their eyes when they scanned up its slopes.
No, there was a light on the mountain.
“Cap’n Pete!” Harland shouted.
Pete responded to Harland and the light at the same time. “It’s a heliograph signal!”
Like a student reading as Doctor Morris wrote on the chalkboard, Harland sounded out the message. “Falcons… on the… trail… need… help…Ri—”
“It’s Riley!”
Pete’s exclamation caught the entire crew by surprise. The crewmembers native to Port John knew who he meant and shared in his concern; they too had family under attack. Yet without a doubt, should any of them know that a brother or sister was in immediate danger, they would react in kind.
“Pete, there’s nothing we can do,” Yusef said.
Pete again exercised his breathing. “I know. At least he’s got John with him.”
Harland asked, “What response do we send?”
“None,” came the answer from Pete. “We shouldn’t give him any false hope. Just, get us around to the west side.”
At that moment, not a soul on board the Alphina would have blamed Pete if he jumped into the sea and swam for Engle Isle. They loved him all the more that he didn’t and worked all that much harder to get their broken ship to its immediate destination.
Piles of lumber were spotted just as soon as they turned south and sailed across the wind. Yet, there was not harborage on Engle Isle’s western coast. No place for the wounded Alphina to put in and make repairs. Donald brought her in as close as they dared risk the shoals, and there they dropped anchor. Both boats were launched and Pete led the way to secure the wood.
Pete, Yusef and few others climbed into the brush a short distance from the beach to ensure that no Falcon soldiers waited in ambush. As doubtful as they were the Falcons even knew where they were, they exercised caution, arming themselves with grenades and crossbows. Pete wore full armor and carried a harpoon along with his sword. Yet, while the fate of the island depended on the Alphina making it to Isle de James in a week or less, Pete could not help but look at the pinnacle of dark stone that stood less than two miles away.
After making sure no enemies lurked nearby, he knew that only the old growth forest stood between himself and his little brother. The old forest were the only trees remaining from when humans first arrived on Engle Isle. Every child born on the island was indoctrinated with the story. The island’s interior had once been covered in trees, but the second generation had decided that ships and houses were more necessary than living trees. The third generation stopped the deforestation before their island became as bare as Alimia.
They returned to the beach to find both boats near full of lumber and the crews awaiting their captain. Yusef placed himself in the Alphina’s boat before realizing that Pete still stood on the beach with his eyes once again scanning the pinnacle.
“Pete,” Yusef said. The sea captain turned his head back to his boatswain. His eyes glistened with fresh tears. Yusef reached into the crowded boat and pulled out a coil of rope with a bronze hook attached to one end. “Go cap’n. We’ll fix up the Alphina and get her to Isle de James.”
Pete took the rope and water canteen given him by another crewman. His mouth curled into a sad smil
e and he nodded to Yusef before turning to hike inland. His heart ached, but whether due to his broken sense of loyalty to his ship and crew or because images of Riley lying dead at the watcher’s post filled his mind, he did not know.
With his mind determined to save his brother, Pete moved quickly through the brush that separated the shore from the old growth forest. At first, the forest seemed an impediment to him. To go around on the north would take far longer than Pete wanted and to skirt along the southern edge of the trees meant he would end up against the sheer rise of the pinnacle’s northwestern side. Never having been much at holding to tradition, Pete determined to break the law of his homeland and enter the forest, crossing through it to sooner reach Riley.
His cousin Mark had boasted of passing through the forest while hunting. After all, the only game on the island were large turkeys; flightless birds which at their grandest, stood as tall as a Duarve. However, he was the exception. Most people on Engle Isle obeyed the long-standing rule to avoid the forest; preserving it as a legacy for future generations and using it as a nursery for new tree growth.
Pete found the dense foliage disorienting. He could see neither the sun nor more than twenty feet in any direction. It was an environment opposite of that which he loved and was used to. He had not traveled far into the forest when he stopped, unsure of where to go next. He considered turning around and attempting to circumvent the forest altogether but did not want to lose any more time.
His mind reeled in desperation. His emotions ran high. Near to panic, he forced himself to kneel on the wet earth. With sweat dripping down his brow, he looked at the ground; covered with leaf litter and decaying wood. The ground led uphill in front of him and downhill behind. Sighing at the epiphany, Pete stood and began walking again, keeping his feet pointed uphill. He hiked with confidence now, feeling in his bones that he would find his brother alive on the other side of the forest.