by B A Simmons
“We saw the Falcons send men with axes out here and we followed. A better question would be: why are you here? What’s happened to the Alphina?” Edward said.
“I’m on a mission. I need to get up to the pinnacle.”
Pete dropped the broken shield and winced as tested the limits of his wounded left arm. “Grady, Cap’n Pete’s been hurt. See to him.”
The Punisher medic moved to examine Pete’s shoulder, but paused as he waved him off. “I’m alright. Well, alright enough not to bother with it. I don’t have time for a medic.”
“Pete, Grady’s one of the best medics we’ve got and your face is telling us that it’s worse than alright.”
Pete relented and submitted himself for examination. The other Punishers in the group found the Falcon soldier with the harpoon in his leg and attended to him with less care. The harpoon was removed, his wound was also treated, but they were not gentle about it.
“What’s at the pinnacle?” Edward asked.
“My brother. He sent a message to the Alphina from up there. He said there were Falcon soldiers headed up there.”
“Probably the rest of the group we were following,” Grady said as he began wrapping a poultice over the large gash in Pete’s shoulder.
Edward’s eyes narrowed. “You left your ship and crew to save your brother? You Englemans are a strange lot.”
Pete’s voice sounded indignant, though he kept his smile as he spoke. “My ship and crew are fine. As fine as can be after our fight. We lost the Old Man against those Falcon ships out there. How’s Port John and Harrisville?”
Edward sighed, “Port John’s been burned to the ground. Seems the Falcons don’t appreciate the fight we’ve been giving them. The island militia burned all the farms between there and Harrisville as they retreated. I’m told John and Charlie put up quite a fight along the road. But now, John is missing and the Falcons are at the east and west gates. We’re still holding them back from the north gate, but we don’t know for how long.”
“Cap’n Pete,” Grady said. “I’ve got you as patched up as I can manage here. That axe looks like it cracked your shoulder blade. You’re going to be in quite a bit of pain.”
Edward agreed, “I recommend you get back to your ship now Pete. We’ll get up to the pinnacle to find your brother.”
“The Alphina is on her way to Isle de James. I sent her up there for repairs and to get help. I’m committed to the fight here now. I confess, I would like some help in getting up to the trail, now that my shoulder isn’t quite ship-shape.”
Edward smiled. “Punishers, are you ready!?”
Eight voices grunted, “hoo-ah!”
“What about your prisoner?” Pete said, nodding at the wounded Falcon.
“Right. What’s the penalty for chopping down trees in the old growth forest?”
“Not what you’re thinking?”
“We can’t take him with us, Pete. Not all decisions are that easy. You were going to kill him too.”
Pete watched as Edward removed the soldier’s helmet. Two of his men held the whimpering captive as picked up the axe meant to fell trees. The soldier fell to his knees and closed his eyes, readying himself to meet Ayday. Edward swung hard, bringing the back side of the axe head down upon his enemy’s head. The soldier’s body crumpled to the ground. Grady checked for a pulse and nodded to Edward.
“Like I said,” Edward smirked. “Not all decisions are easy. Now let’s go.”
Pete retrieved his harpoon and led the way up the mountain. Where the trees met the stone slope of the pinnacle, Pete unslung the rope Yusef had given him. He handed it to Edward and pointed a finger upward.
“There’s a small dead tree about ten yards up there. See it?”
“That little thing? You sure it’ll hold a man?”
A memory entered Pete’s mind and he smiled with fondness at it. “It held Mark.”
Edward swung the hook in a circle four or five times before letting it fly up to catch on the thin trunk of wood whose dead roots anchored themselves just below the trail. Before anyone could suggest he go first, Edward hauled himself up the rope, his feet planted on the rock and he ascended in a trice. The other eight Punishers followed in the same manner, all of them demonstrating skill in climbing. At the last, Pete tied the rope around himself and let the Punishers haul him up.
* * *
Spearpoints and clinking; a mass of bodies in armor and shields made their way in formation up the trail. They pressed themselves together to fit, two-by-two, on the narrow pathway up the slope. Double-headed falcons merged together in overlapping defense both in front of the soldiers and above their heads.
John and Riley saw them coming a long way off and sighed out their trepidation. John’s foot had gone numb; a worrying sign that he was still losing blood. Riley sniffed and wiped silent tears from his eyes. This was their end. They felt it with such assurance that neither could speak to the other for fear of sobbing out a confession. John forced a wry smile to his face and turned to Riley. He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder to show his commitment to the task at hand. He would save Riley’s life, even at the cost of his own.
The Falcons paused a few yards away, readying themselves for the assault. Riley placed a stone in his sling and transferred the energy of his frown into his arm. The first stone cracked against a shield so loudly that John thought he saw the Falcons jump back.
“Keep it up,” John said as he again placed himself in the middle of the trail, shield in front with his spear over the top, waiting to skewer the next man to approach. His back leg (the good one) shook with exhaustion and he allowed it to take a knee. He might as well be comfortable as he prolonged his passage to Evan.
After Riley’s second stone rattled the overlapping shields at the front of the column, John saw a gap open and the familiar sight of crossbows poke out, loosing their bolts at them.
“Get behind me!” he shouted.
He felt Riley’s left arm wrap around his chest. One of the bolts struck John’s shield, its bronze tip splintered the wood on the back side just three fingers’ lengths away from his jaw. The second whizzed through the space where Riley had stood the moment before.
The soldiers moved up a few paces while the crossbowmen reloaded their weapons. John recognized their tactic with both admiration and frustration. He could not counter it himself, not without exposing Riley to the deadly fire. The best he could do is hold out on his own.
“Riley, as soon as they fire again, I want you to run. Do you hear me? Run up the trail as fast as you can and signal Harrisville. Tell them you are still up here. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Riley squeaked out.
The bolts both struck John’s shield, just below the upper rim where his eyes and helmet were exposed.
“Go!” he shouted. Riley release his grip and started running. John listened the crunching of his sandals on the stony trail and then puzzled why the sound stopped. He turned himself, keeping his shield between his body and the approaching enemy.
Riley lay on the trail, tears flowing from his eyes and blood from his lower leg where a bolt stuck through his calf. A third crossbowman had waited for the boy to come out from behind the shield. Expecting him to rise up and sling a stone at them, he’d aimed closer to John, which meant the bolt found his leg instead of his heart. John’s ears heard the scrambling of boots on stone and he turned again to the soldiers charging at him.
Seeing red, John lifted himself up to close the distance between them. This caught the lead soldiers by surprise and John placed the point of his spear through one of their faces. He released his grip on the spear and drew his sword, thrusting low as he slammed his shield into the next man. He felt a blade cut the flesh of his thigh, but his only increased his fury. He stabbed again and slashed upward, hearing a scream of pain from the man in front of him. A spear punctured his left buttock and a heavy blow struck his head. John could no longer keep himself upright.
As he fell, his swo
rd was wrenched from his hand. His vision blurred and his body felt suspended in water. No, not water, but hands. Hands grabbed at him, pulling away his shield and helmet. He looked back to see two soldiers on the trail above him, walking toward the trembling form of Riley. To his credit, the boy gripped his axe in one hand, waiting for the chance to use it.
He did not get that chance. From behind Riley came a terrific scream; like an attacking blue gull, Pete Engleman came charging down the trail followed by Edward and a handful of Punishers. John smiled and a laugh escaped his cracked lips. The two soldiers retreated back to the pack that held John. This did not save them from Pete’s harpoon or Edward’s spear.
The hands holding John pushed and pulled him away from the scene. He was bound and dragged down the trail as the battle continued above him. Punishers and Pete dealing out deadly blows to the astonished Falcon infantry. The smile still on his face, John felt the hands pull him upright and blade was pressed against his throat.
Someone spoke in Iyty. It was Pete. What was he saying? A Falcon voice answered and Pete lifted the harpoon to throw but Edward put out a hand to stop him.
“No Pete!” Edward said. “They’ll do it. Let them keep him alive as a hostage. We must let them.”
A hostage! Here John had expected to meet his death in glorious battle. Yet, as the image of a dark-haired young woman holding a baby entered his mind, he sighed with relief. As a captive, he could be exchanged for Falcon prisoners (assuming some had been taken by the Punishers) or for ransom. He hated the thought of not returning to Lisette, their unborn child and little Mark. A small glimmer of hope allowed John to relax before his eyes forced themselves closed.
* * *
Pete looked to Edward, a scowl menaced his face and betrayed the feverish rampage he felt pulling him into this fight. His arm wanted desperately to launch the harpoon at the Falcon soldier holding John just a few yards away. When Edward placed his hand on Pete’s shoulder, a calm came with it. Edward, the professional soldier, ever in control of his emotions, passed wisdom on to Pete with a touch.
The harpoon point lowered and the Falcon sergeant nodded his head as his men withdrew behind him. Pete watched them go with active malevolence. Yet his hot blood cooled fast and he recognized Edward’s wisdom for what it was. They would have killed John in an instant had Pete continued his attack. As it was, five bodies lay dead, dying or wounded on the trail and one of those was his little brother.
Dropping all weapons, Pete jogged back up to where Grady attended the wounded Engleman boy. The bolt had passed through Riley’s calf up to the fletching. The point of it stuck out past his shin several inches.
“Riley, you’re going to be alright,” Pete said, “Mister Grady here is the best medic the Punishers have.”
“You came!” Riley said through his tears. The sight of his famous older brother was enough to almost make him forget about the terrible pain he suffered. “Why aren’t you on the Alphina?”
Pete laughed. His shoulder disagreed with that and his laugh turned into a groan.
“Are you alright?” Riley said.
Still wincing, Pete gingerly checked the dressing under his armor. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.”
“We should all be a bit worried,” Edward said.
He stood near them looking out over the island with his far-see. “The Falcon infantry is moving up toward that north gate into Harrisville. We need to get down there before they cut us off from the town completely.”
Riley cried out in both pain and surprise as Grady yanked the bolt from his leg. The medic’s skilled hands plugged and dressed the wound with such quickness that even Pete was astonished.
The group readied themselves for the trek back to Harrisville, knowing they had to carry Riley and the Falcon soldier John had gutted. The other fallen Falcons were too far gone to save. Edward and two of his men quietly put them out of their misery. The Punisher captain now took point ahead of the group down the trail into the scrub and hacklebush hedges.
Pete understood why Edward took such risks. With the threat of meeting more Falcon soldiers on the way, he wanted to ensure the safety of his men. Having spent much time with Edward on their journey from Big Nose Isle, Pete held the man in high esteem. There was more to him than most people saw. His tattooed body and rough demeanor concealed a loyal and tender heart. Edward truly cared about his men and those they were tasked with protecting.
Pete’s ears picked up the sounds of fighting from down the trail. He wasn’t the only one who heard it. Four of the Punishers walking with him took off running. They hadn’t gone far before crossbow bolts flew from the bushes, killing two of them and wounding a third.
“Riley, stay with Grady,” Pete said and took up his weapons with the remaining three Punishers. They rushed forward, shields ready to take more projectiles. Yet none came. Pete pressed forward with caution for he could still hear the shouts and grunts of men in combat mixing with the clangs of weapons and armor.
Two Falcon soldiers burst out from a gap between the hacklebushes. Pete blocked the falcata of the first with his shield and brought his own sword down low. It connected with the soldier’s knee forcing him back where a Punisher finished him off. But the second man did not stop his attack. He outmaneuvered the Punisher, chopping both legs out from under him before bringing the sword down on his throat.
He turned on Pete with the same ferocity and kicked Pete’s shield away from his torso, forcing him to parry his falcata with the blade of his sword. Each of Pete’s counter blows were blocked and the Falcon soldier pushed him against the hacklebushes lining the north side of the trail.
The next blow from the soldier took all the strength from Pete’s left arm. He felt the shoulder wound open farther and he could no longer keep the shield. Several more blows left Pete’s sword with deep nicks and a severe bend in the blade. The falcata wasn’t much better, but the soldier raised it high over his head for a final strike at the Engle Islander.
The long wooden haft of a spear appeared in his armpit. His falcata fell to the ground and the soldier’s hands fumbled about trying to grab at the haft. It was a long moment before Pete realized the spear came from Edward, who yanked the spear from their enemy’s torso, allowing his body to collapse.
“Punishers, on me!” Edward called.
Seven men, including Grady and Riley, joined them. The other four mercenaries lay in their blood near the bodies of five Falcons. Their prisoner among them.
“Form up tight, we have to be more careful of these ambushes from here to the town.”
Pete tried to lift his shield again but found his arm would not cooperate. No amount of adrenaline or fury would make his arm work until it healed.
“Pete,” Riley said. “You help me walk and I’ll carry the shield.”
The going was slow, but they came to the open fields northwest of Harrisville. To the south they saw the smoldering ruins of farm houses. To the north they saw copper mine sitting on the hill. They saw commotion from the north gate of the town. The sounds of battle reached them across the fields and through the hacklebush hedges.
Reaching the hedge that separated the fields from the gate, the group concealed themselves behind the hacklebushes. Falcon soldiers ran forward to join a line pressing against the defending line of Punishers and militiamen. The gate remained open behind the defenders, though guarded by a line of shield men. Archers spread out along the top of the wall took pot-shots at the attackers, taking care not to hit any of their own.
Edward spoke in a hushed voice, “That gate shouldn’t be open. What are they thinking?”
“They’re thinking our best fighter and some of his best men are out here and they’re hoping you show up soon so they can get inside,” Pete replied.
“Right.” Edward pulled his dagger from his belt and placed his right hand through the lanyard attached to the handle. Taking hold of his spear, he turned to Grady and Pete. “Get through to the gate and get everyone inside.”
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Grady opened his mouth to protest, but Edward leapt over the gate and onto the road before he could utter a word. The mercenary captain sprinted forward and plunged his spear into a Falcon officer standing behind his men. Those men hearing the screams of their leader, turned to see Edward’s spear and dagger flashing before them. Two of them fell to the Punisher’s rapid onslaught before their comrades came to help them.
The militia, mixed with a few mercenaries, took advantage of the chaos and pressed forward. Grady moved onto the road with the rest of the excursion group. While some joined in the breaking of the Falcon line, Grady and the wounded men headed straight for the north gate. They were met by more defenders from the town, including Charlie and Roland.
“Pete! What are you doing here?” Charlie said.
“Later, Charlie. Edward wants everyone inside the wall,” Pete said.
“He’d better get himself over here then. Everyone, get inside!”
Roland scowled. “But the Falcons are falling back! We can push them back!”
“Back to what? They’re already regrouping there.”
Indeed, the Falcon infantry had formed new lines on the road. Even as Edward stuck his spear through limbs and throats, the enemy closed in close around him. The veteran soldier carefully moved himself away from them, his spearpoint darted out to fend them off. As the rest of the defenders withdrew into the town, Edward stood alone between them and the rallying Falcons. He challenged them to take him on and a couple of them accepted. They came forward, one or two at a time; dueling spears and slashing blades. Edward was cut across his upper arm and bashed in the helmet with a shield. Even so, he did not yield the road.
Just as Charlie ushered the last of the defenders in, he looked back to see Edward standing over the corpses of three men. A fourth crawled away, wounded and defeated, to the helping arms of his comrades. The tattooed Punisher shook his fists and cursed at them before joining Charlie and closing the gate.