The Children of Archipelago

by B A Simmons

  As the women examined and treated his wounds, Joshua watched Missus McClain. Or rather, the weapon she held at the ready as she observed the movements of the Falcon soldiers outside. He could see the lights on the stock and knew they indicated the functions and status of the cannon, though he was less sure how to read them.

  “How many shots are left?” he blurted.

  “I don’t know,” she said looking at the stock, “I believe it still holds half the power of a full charge. However, these lights might not be accurate anymore. It’s an ancient—”

  “It’s a Shintoku Model A97 laser rifle. It’s capable of a dozen high heat pulses on a single charge. How many did you use?”

  “Three. The first must have missed,” Abigail McClain said.

  “I’m grateful your aim was better with the other two.”

  Joshua gave her a smirk which she ignored. He said, “Still, if you say it shows half power after only three shots, the battery must not be working at full capacity.”

  “How is it that a mercenary such as yourself knows so much about ancient weaponry?” Missus Galbraith said as she finished binding the wounds on his right arm.

  His smirk widened, “I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours, sister. How does a group of religious types like yourselves come to own an ancient weapon like that?”

  They did not answer him.

  He continued, “And where does that door lead? This is certainly not the typical entrance to a mine as you’ve made it look.”

  The Reverend Mother spoke with sharpness, “You may keep your secrets Mr. Joshua. We have taken oaths not to reveal ours. At the moment, it may not matter much as it looks as though the enemy is taking a great interest in us.”

  Joshua pushed himself up despite the pain in his body. The Falcons were stirring. While most of them had already moved on down the road toward Harrisville, a small group remained about thirty yards from the entrance. This group now moved closer, in a shield wall formation, taking slow, quiet steps.

  “They don’t see or hear us,” Joshua whispered. “Keep that rifle ready, Missus McClain.”

  He looked around himself for a weapon but found none. And although several lay just outside the entrance, he dared not try for any of them. His wounds were not life-threatening, but they would slow him down in a fight.

  The entrance was too narrow for more than two people to enter at a time, especially if they carried weapons and armor. While the main group halted, the two shield men in the center entered the cave. It became clear they did not know what to expect, but without a doubt, they were not expecting to see anyone so close to the entrance.

  They barely had time for their eyes to adjust when a flash of light illuminated the cave for a split second. The Falcon soldier on the left yelled in pain, his shield arm dropping and his sword falling to the ground. Joshua wasted no time in diving for it. The man on the right moved to dispatch him but was hit with a rock. He looked to the woman whose arm was about to pitch another stone.

  Joshua lunged upward with the sword to kill the soldier wounded by the laser before turning to take on the other. His access to the man was blocked as Emily Galbraith rushed forward to intervene on her sister’s behalf. She screamed out as she tackled the soldier before he could strike at Heidi Massoud. The struggle was brief. Emily Galbraith lay on the ground, bleeding from her abdomen while the soldier stared at her. The look of horror on his face matched her own. Yet he did not wear it long. A quick flick of Joshua’s arm and blood poured from the man’s throat down his chest.

  “Get her inside!” Abigail McClain yelled. Joshua tucked the sword into his belt and bent down to lift the wounded woman. Heidi Massoud opened the heavy door with a grunt.

  Another flash of light kept a third Falcon soldier from entering the cave, and the line began to retreat again. Yet one more foolish soldier moved to the entrance, looking perhaps to recover his comrades. The laser rifle melted a hole through the copper vambrace on his sword arm and he cried out before rejoining the rest of the group.

  Abigail McClain retrieved one of the swords lying on the blood-soaked ground before stepping backward through the door and shutting it. She placed the sword and rifle against the wall near the door and turned her attention to her fellow sisters.

  Emily Galbraith cried and moaned with pain on the adjustable bed. Six other women looked on her with fear and pity, but stood in shock, unable to move. The sight of their friend and sister with her belly cut open was too much for them to process. Only Heidi and another sister pulled Emily’s hands away from her stomach and held them while Abigail McClain examined the wound.

  “Cut the clothes away from the wound and find me my suture kit!”

  Her commanding voice seemed to pull the women out of their daze and they moved to help. While Abigail McClain sanitized her hands and forearms with the white liquid she poured from a bottle. She then filled a small tube with a different liquid through the attached needle and jabbed the needle into Emily’s abdomen with careful precision.

  She looked up and around the room before settling her eyes on Joshua, who sat in a chair attending to his own wounds. Some of them had already soaked through the bandages placed on them.

  “Victoria, see to this man’s wounds,” Abigail said.

  A young woman, no older than Joshua himself, responded by rushing to his side and taking his bloody bandages from him.

  “I’m fine, save your supplies for her,” He said.

  “We have plenty of supplies for the both of you.” Her hands worked quickly to replace the dressings on his wounds while Joshua leaned back in the chair.

  “What is this place?” Joshua asked.

  Victoria looked over her shoulder and kept her voice low. “We do not speak of this place to anyone, not our own men and certainly not foreigners. It is sacred and we use it only to ensure healthy children are born into our community.”

  “It’s ancient, isn’t it? I’ve seen places like it before, well… not quite like this…”

  His eyes closed and for a moment Victoria worried that he had passed away. A long sigh emanated from his throat, revealing that he was still alive.

  “I don’t suppose you have anything to help with the pain,” he said.

  “If you’re asking for liquor or spirits, we have none of that here.”

  Joshua huffed, “I’m asking for something to manage the pain I’m in so that when the Falcon soldiers break down this door, I can fight them back and save your life.”

  Victoria stood and looked at the Reverend Mother who was busy with her hands attempting to sew up Emily Galbraith’s insides. She moved to a long counter against the wall to gather more bandages. While there she located the glass jar of white tablets she had helped make using the ancient recipes of her ancestors. She knew they were only ever to be used with mothers experiencing childbirth, but the vision of a dark soldier plunging his sword into her, making her scream in pain as her sister Emily was now doing, overrode all other concerns.

  She returned to Joshua and placed three tablets in his mouth while using a cloth to clean blood from his face. “Try to swallow them whole, if you can,” She admonished.

  Joshua gave a slow nod in response and swallowed hard. As if on cue, a loud bang shuddered the door. It was followed by another, still harder bang. Several of the women let out pathetic yelps. One started to sob.

  Her focus still on the work her hands were performing, Abigail McClain spoke in her authoritative tone. “Do not fear, sisters. That door has held against the beaks and talons of ferocious actels. It will hold against the weapons of men.”

  Despite her reassurances, as the assault on the door continued for some time, the women not assisting the wounded crowded together at the back of the room, holding each other’s hands for support. Joshua could make out another doorway behind them, but he could not see well enough through the women what was behind it.

  “Why don’t you women lock yourselves in that other room?” he suggested.

 
; “Thank you, Mister Joshua, but I will give the orders here,” Missus McClain said. “The sisters have no need to worry about going further into the cave.”

  Joshua gave another snorting huff. “You’re still going to call this place a cave, even though I know it’s no such thing.”

  “I will call it what I have always called it. I see no reason to argue with you about it. The sisters cannot lock themselves in the areas beyond this room.”

  “Why not?” he argued. At the same time, he marveled at how well she continued sewing on a woman’s innards while carrying on the conversation.

  Abigail McClain sighed in frustration as she answered him. “This is the only room that still maintains ventilation to the outside. Should anyone be locked in any other part of the cave… they would eventually suffocate.”

  The banging stopped. It was Joshua’s turn to sigh. His came accompanied by a painful cough. Victoria again knelt at his side, her hands reaching inside his padded leather jacket to feel for more wounds. Joshua grimaced and groans as she pressed on the seventh rib on his right side.

  “You’re hurt more than we realized. We have to take this armor off,” She said.

  Joshua took hold of her hand to keep her from unfastening the buckles. “While I wouldn’t mind you undressing me later, here’s neither the place nor the time.”

  Victoria withdrew from him, blushing as she did. The fingers of her right hand fiddled nervously with the copper ring on her left hand. She searched the faces of her fellow circle members, but found no reproach from any, even the Reverend Mother.

  “Your valiance is duly noted, but perhaps you can refrain from speaking so untoward. All of these women are married. Their husbands are even now defending our people from the invaders. Show some respect.”

  “I meant no offense,” Joshua said, looking at Victoria. “I just don’t trust what Missus McClain here says about the door. I think I’ll be needing my armor on me.”

  Their attention returned to the door as a fresh round of heavy blows pounded against it.

  “Are you at least well stocked for food and water?” Joshua asked.

  “We brought enough for ourselves to last two weeks. We were not counting on a man being here,” Heidi Massoud replied.

  “I promise I won’t eat much. In fact, let’s hope Rob Engleman returns soon with help from our allies in the north. I don’t fancy being cooped up in here for very long.”

  Abigail McClain said, “We will all pray that Ayday changes the hearts of our enemies and the siege is not a long one.”

  With the exception of those attending to Emily Galbraith, the sisters bowed their heads and spoke in unison.

  “Ayday, Ayday, Ayday, we are the Matriarch’s Circle of Engle Isle. Forgive us our sins, our pride, our folly. Protect us from harm and the elements…”

  As they prayed, the assault on the door continued. Joshua watched the door. He heard the pounding vibrate through its metallic structure, yet he had to admit (silently to himself) that it seemed to be holding better than any door he’d ever seen. A marvelous ancient creation. Yet he knew the siege would continue because of that. The Falcons didn’t just want to conquer the birthing cave, they wanted the rifle, and any other technology the sisters of the Matriarch’s Circle were hiding inside.

  14

  An Alien Abroad

  C olum was an intelligent beast. It seemed to Tom that Colum understood the ways of men well. It had avoided the isle called Big Nose; flying around it to the west. Tom saw only pebble-sized ships on the blue expanse below them and the blur of green and yellow on the horizon to the east. Twice the actel descended to the waves to scoop mullet into its beak. It lifted its head on the return ascent to swallow the fish. Otherwise it rode the sky at an altitude of about two thousand feet above the sea. Distance enough to avoid the weapons of any man-bearing vessels below them. Toward the end of the journey, Tom almost loved flying better than sailing… almost.

  The mountains of Aruth appeared on the horizon in the morning of the second day. They did not reach the island until hours later. It gave Tom time to realize that Colum had to put him down somewhere away from the civilization of men. The mountainous mass at the center of the high island was least inhabited, which again, Colum appeared to know. Perhaps Aacarys had visited Aruth before.

  “Colum, shee-row-lack.”

  Tom enjoyed the view of forest and farmland from above, until he spoke these words and realized that these features were coming closer fast. Colum swooped down with its usual break-neck speed, deploying its wings like a parachute at the last moment to arrest its momentum. The actual landing was softer than Tom thought possible. The beast adjusted its wings and exhaled a long breath before lowering its head to allow Tom to descend. They were by a small mountain stream, from which Colum drank once its burden was delivered to the ground.

  “Thank you, Colum,” Tom said as he ran his hand once more over the actel’s brow. “Return to your mistress now and keep her safe.”

  The beast cawed loudly before rising again into the air. Tom watched it fly away, circling him once as it had done for Aacarys when leaving Hellhound Isle, before gliding off to the south. For a moment, the weight of his decision weighed Tom down and he felt regret for having left the fair Ferlie on the island he regarded as his true home.

  He shook his head to drive the thought away. Looking around himself he saw a beautiful snow-capped mountain peak to the west and another to the northeast; shorter with only dots of white around its top. Tall green forests of trees stood between these peaks and the meadow where Tom stood. He had no real knowledge of where he was on the island and he recognized that his own expert skills at navigation were limited to sailing the seas. However, he did know one fact that could help him in such a dilemma. Something his cousin Mark had taught him years before. Follow the water and you’ll find the shore. Follow the shore and you’ll find people.

  He walked alongside the stream, following its current down the mountain. Trees appeared soon thereafter and the meadow merged into a forest where trees and brush grew thick along the stream’s banks and forced him to move away from its pleasant babbling and coolness. He kept listening to it and from time to time, found openings in the brush which allowed him to catch glimpses of the water.

  As the day wore on the terrain became steeper and rockier. The stream joined with another to become a small river. After crossing its treacherous current, Tom paused for a rest. He discovered that his shoulder ached as he forced himself to stretch. Despite the pain, he realized how much Aacarys’s healing treatments has restored his body. After the sea battle off Little Alimia, even those minor wounds had taken longer to heal. Or, he pondered, had he just become more accustomed to pain and discomfort.

  Tom relaxed his back against a boulder and allowed his eyes to shut for a few moments. He had not slept during the flight from Hellhound Isle. His eyes begged him for reprieve and they soon found it as Tom’s body forced his will to give in to sleep. His rest was helpful, albeit short.

  A strange hand shook him. He jolted upright to find himself surrounded by four dark, alien faces. Two of them held swords between him and themselves. While different from the mummified corpses he knew from the Duarve House, he recognized these living Duarves and relaxed. He brought his hands up to show that he held no weapon and meant no harm.

  “Hoy there, I’m a friend.”

  Two of them spoke to each other in their language. Their facial features were so foreign that Tom could not tell if their expressions indicated hostility, curiosity or something else.

  “I’m trying to find Baron Eric. Do you know the way to Edinburgh?”

  More chattering among all four of them left Tom believing they didn’t understand a word he spoke. Yet, what else was there to do. He had only a vague idea of where he was on a rather large island. These Duarves were clearly natives and therefore, he must recruit their help.

  He remembered Rob’s story of his and Doctor Morris’s adventure to Kudo Isle. His mind str
uggled to recall the name of the Duarve who helped them.

  “Do you know… Poll-agustus? Po… Polus, um, Polustom Sacko?”

  “Poulustus Sahko,” one of them said.

  “Yes, I am kinsman to Rob Engleman. Poulustus Sahko knows him.”

  The same Duarve looked at Tom. His black eyes scrutinizing him and his countenance impossible to read. “Engle-man.”

  The Duarves all chattered again while the one who spoke to Tom reached out his three-fingered hand. Tom hesitated a moment, but then took the hand and allowed the diminutive figure to help him to his feet. The Duarve looked like naked children coated in charcoal. Yet their demeanor was adult. They walked with dignity and poise even among the rocks and along the edges of the river. As Tom recalled all he had learned from his cousin about them, he realized that he might actually be the youngest member of the group.

  The sun dipped behind the mountains in the west when they arrived at the caves. Many more Duarves watched both from in front of the caves as well as from windows cut into the stone as he approached. A few even shorter Duarves, which Tom assumed were children, scampered away to their parents. Yet as Tom was escorted by members of their own race, the adults did little more than stare. Tom heard them speaking in rapid-fire conversation, occasionally recognizing the words Engleman and Poulustus Sahko.

  The Duarves followed behind him as he followed his escorts into the cave. To his surprise, the cave was not dark, nor was it cramped as with the dwellings of burrowing animals. Despite his near two-meter-tall frame, Tom did not have to duck, though the smooth ceiling brushed his unkempt hair.

  The walls held blue orbs that glowed enough to illuminate the passageways. The roomy corridors allowed Tom to be flanked by a Duarve on each side of him. He noted several large rooms adjoining the corridor at regular intervals, many with small cots and wooden boxes. Duarve furnishings were sparse, and their sense of privacy near nonexistent.