The Children of Archipelago

by B A Simmons

  “Sir, what are we going to do after you’ve executed us all?”

  “There’s a trail through the hacklebushes right over there. It leads to the west coast. We can get there and look for the Alphina.”

  “Do you really think she’s still out there?” Nigel asked.

  “If she’s not, we’ll circle around the island. We can either take refuge in the old growth forest or make our way to the copper mine.”

  “Won’t the Falcons be at the mine?” one of the others asked.

  “Not likely, they haven’t broken the siege. All the soldiers are either here or at Harrisville. I doubt they’re sparing anyone to wander around the island. I’ve got to get back for the others. Stay here. Stay silent.”

  However, when John rounded the rubble pile, there were two more of the prisoners, Max and another mercenary from Isle de James, being prodded forward by the spears of two Falcon guards who had decided not to let John have all the fun.

  “Dove metti i corpi?” One of them asked, but John just stood dumbfounded. Panic seized his body and for what seemed like several horrible minutes, he puzzled what to do. Yet a moment later, the four men walked past John and behind the pile of rubble. There they saw Nigel, wearing the helmet and armor of the corporale, along with two men who were supposed to be corpses.

  They all stood looking at each other, confusion running rampant, before John slit one of the Falcon’s throats. The other turned, got one word out before the blade flashed across his larynx.

  “You’d better hurry now,” Nigel said. “This is getting out of hand.”

  John returned to the corral where the four remaining prisoners stood together. Or rather, two of them stood supporting the other two. Tim Engleman could still barely keep himself upright and Roger, whose own leg still caused him pain, supported the worst wounded of them the bunch.

  The four were completely surrounded by the remaining guards. John stopped as he realized that all eyes were on him.

  “They’re on to us, John! Get away!” Roger shouted.

  “Avanzare!” the Falcons yelled and six of them charged at John.

  For a moment, John considered taking them all on. The thought of leaving men behind burning away all caution and concern for himself. However, he knew that Nigel and the others needed him just as much. There was no way to recover Roger and the others and he would have to live with that. First, he would have to live.

  John ran. He ran away from the corral; away from his friends and comrades and away from the enemy. He ran toward Nigel and the rest of the escapees, shouting for them to run also. They did so, running straight into the hacklebushes where they followed the trail west, away from the ruins of Port John. They ran until they were sure the Falcons no longer pursued them, whether for caution or because they became lost in the maze of trails. At the western shore of the island they turned north and, pulling those with leg wounds along with them, found sanctuary in the cave at the bottom of the north pinnacle.

  * * *

  “Are you alright?”

  It was a stupid question, Pete thought. He was flat on his back, sucking in air. He could only imagine what his face looked like.

  “Sound… alarm,” He said.

  The girl bending over him furrowed her brow, but a noise from above drew her attention away. Pete saw the helmeted head of a Falcon soldier pop over the wall. This was followed fast by the rest of his body as he pulled himself over the wall.

  “Go! Tell Edward, now!” Pete shouted and began pulling himself up as the girl ran away. His shoulder screamed for him to stop moving, but Pete gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain. He drew his sword and waited for the Falcon soldiers coming over the wall to drop down into the town.

  Pete cursed under his breath when they ignored him and began moving along the wall toward the east gate. He had no choice but to follow them on the ground. As he made his way between the wall and houses, he continually sounded the warning.

  “They’re over the wall! They’re over the wall! To arms!”

  A woman appeared from inside a house. She saw the men on the wall and screamed. She slammed the door of the house but Pete continued to hear her screaming until coming to the platoon of Punishers at the east gate. They were already in position, having heard Pete’s alarm. Six of them stood on the wall, shields in front with spears behind, blocking the Falcon’s access to the gate from above. The rest stood on the ground, waiting for any attacker foolish enough to descend from the wall and try opening the gate.

  “Pete!” Alistair shouted.

  The red-haired warrior ran to his friend, the cross bow in his one hand. Pete smiled and they exchanged weapons. The Falcons appeared in the alleyway between the wall and the closest house, moving forward in their usual formation. Above them, their comrades on the wall inched forward to engage the blockade. Stones, arrows and bolts flew at them from the defenders. Yet as soon as they did, the Falcon’s outside the town moved forward again.

  “They’re coming at the gate again!” Gus yelled.

  The Engle Islanders diverted their attention to the Falcons outside the wall while the mercenaries kept their focus on those inside. Pete took aim and put an arrow into the sword arm of one of the shield men on the ground. As he reloaded, Alistair stood guard over him.

  “Um, Pete.”

  Pete looked up just as he placed a new bolt on the bow. Four Falcon soldier working as a lance unit moved at them. Pete again took aim, this time at the head of the shieldman directly in front of them. Noting Pete’s aim, the shield was lifted to block the bolt. However, Pete then pointed the crossbow down and launched the bolt into the man’s foot. This forced the unit to abandon him, coming at Alistair and Pete with only three. Pete did not waste time reloading but used the crossbow as a club. An arrow from the wall behind them took out the spearman nearest Pete. When the second shieldman blocked Alistair’s chop, Pete lunged forward with the crossbow and struck down on the man’s head and neck. He then turned to bludgeon the second spearman, but found he was retreating back with the first shieldman.

  “Not so tough, are they Alistair?”

  There was no answer. Pete turned around to see Alistair on the ground, his one hand no longer held the sword, but gripped his bloody throat. The blood spilled from his hand onto the street. His eyes were wide and looked at Pete when the young captain took his head onto his lap.

  The Punishers pushed the attack back through the town, killing or capturing most of the attackers. Outside the wall, the Falcons fell back again while the gate remained intact. Edward led a small force along the outside of the wall, setting fire to the Smith and Massoud farms and pulling ladders away from the wall.

  In the streets, men and women still screamed while Pete wept over the body of another fallen friend. Alistair’s father came with Mark Engleman and Lewis Johnson. They joined Pete in mourning while the four of them carried the body away. Mister McClain spoke in soft tones.

  “When they cut my son’s arm from him last year, I didn’t know what to do with it. I buried it in our back garden. I think I will bury him there, reunited with his arm.”

  “Your daughter, Melanie, she’s alive and well, isn’t she?” Pete said.

  “Yes. She’s with her husband and children at the south end of town.”

  “Have we any word of the sisters at the birthing cave?” Lewis asked.

  They all shook their heads. They knew that Abigail McClain was a devout and stubborn woman. Her determination to stay at the birthing cave had caused no small argument with her husband and son. Now Alistair was dead and they did not know if his mother greeted him when he passed, or if they would have to greet her with the sad news.

  * * *

  Twenty-three days, by his count. Twenty-three days in the confines of the birthing cave. Even after the Falcons retreated from the broken entrance, Joshua and the sister of the Matriarch’s Circle remained inside the cave, rationing out their supply of food and water. Due to the extraordinary medical skills of Abigail McCl
ain and the other sisters, the wounds of all inside were properly dressed and on their way toward healing. Even Emily Galbraith had recovered consciousness, though she remained prostrate and dealt with severe pain.

  The Shintoku rifle lay with a spear, sword and a crossbow near the ruined entrance. Joshua and the sisters all took turns at watch, making sure that any enemy soldiers wandering too close to the cave were warned. Yet, for days after the assault, none had dared. Falcon soldiers were seen traveling trails that led from the road to Harrisville and the eastern shoreline. They carried their dead and wounded from the siege, carried food, water and weapons back and forth, but did not venture close to the cave entrance.

  As the evening of the twenty-fourth day fell upon them, Joshua ventured from the cave and into the trails southward. He worked slowly through the hacklebushes and goat pastures, keeping himself from being seen. A small knoll near the southern shore gave him a perch upon which he crested himself. From this position he saw a large Falcon ship some two hundred yards off shore. With it, having survived the attack on Port John, bobbed one of the assault ships. Both ships were busy in the process of loading troops, both wounded and whole.

  On the stony beach between the ships and the knoll, a dozen soldiers and sailors worked with spades and picks to dig shallow graves for those of them who had not survived the battles. Joshua understood the signs and grinned to himself. While he had not yet seen Harrisville and did not know what damage had been done to the town or its defenders, he trusted that if the Falcons were leaving, the town must not have been taken.

  Voices sounded nearby; voices speaking Iyty. Joshua crawled down from the knoll and slinked along until he found the trail leading to the beach. There, two soldiers remained on guard, watching to ensure the defenders did not follow them from Harrisville. The way they spoke to each other told Joshua they were of equal rank. Either that or they no longer regarded the difference in rank as a barrier to their griping. For they were commiserating together on the situation they found themselves in.

  Though difficult to understand every word as far away as he crouched, Joshua dared not move any closer. He heard them speak of the withdrawal from the siege. They blamed their officers, though it appeared not all of these had wanted to give it up. After a couple of personal insults, he heard something mind blowing.

  “Se l’imperatore è morto…”

  Joshua nearly jumped at the words. Could it be true? He strained to hear more, but the men quieted down, as if they knew someone was listening. After a few minutes of listening and not understanding more, he crawled away.

  He found the sisters at the cave as anxious for his return as they were for news of the world outside that cave. They let out a collective sigh when he told them of their enemy’s departure.

  “I will go to Harrisville now and make sure they know. Stay here and when I come back, I’ll bring a cart with which to transport Missus Galbraith.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Victoria said. She and Joshua both looked at the Reverend Mother. Abigail McClain appeared deep in thought for a moment before she responded with a subtle nod.

  The two moved along the road in the darkness of the early night. They kept to shadows as much as possible, but as much as Joshua wanted to keep off the open road, he felt more threat in the many stones and hacklebush starts than in the possibility of encountering a Falcon soldier. The pale green moon shone above the cloudless sky when they arrived at the abandoned siege shields facing the east gate of Harrisville.

  “Ahoy in the town!” Joshua shouted. After half a minute of silence a voice called back.

  “Hoy there on the road! Who are you?”

  “It’s Joshua with Missus Victoria… um…”

  “Shipley,” she said.

  “With Missus Shipley. We’ve come from the birthing cave. Open the gate and don’t shoot us as we come to it!”

  Joshua motioned for Victoria to remain behind the siege shield as he stepped out and waved at the wall. They heard a shouted command for the gate to open and once it did, he gestured for Victoria to join him.

  “Joshua?!” a voice called out.

  “Captain Pete?!” Joshua responded, finding the familiar face among those who came from the open gate.

  “We thought you were dead! Though I’m happy to see you aren’t,” Pete said.

  “Those meecher Falcons can’t kill me, though they sure tried. The rest of the Matriarch’s Circle are still at the cave. They need a cart to help transport a wounded sister back.”

  Gus appeared with Sergeant Holcomb.

  “Sir? What about the Falcons? We saw them abandon their lines a few hours ago but thought it might be a trick to get us to open the gate.”

  “Spread the word boys. The Falcons are leaving Engle Isle.”

  “You’re sure? You’re sure of this?” Gus said.

  “They’re burying their dead and loading their living onto their ships. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Sir, shall I go tell Captain Edward?” Holcomb said.

  “Send a man to tell him, Sergeant. I want you to get a detail together and take a cart with me back for the rest of the sisters.”

  Victoria looked to Pete. “Do you know where my husband is?”

  Pete’s smile fell from his face. He looked around at the others before nodding. “Yes, Missus Shipley, you should come with me.”

  She looked back at Joshua, a mix of emotions present in her eyes. Joshua watched her go with Pete into the town. He discerned from Pete’s countenance the news she was about to receive and hated himself for the feelings of his own heart.

  An hour later the streets near the east gate of Harrisville filled with people rejoicing at the return of their Matriarch’s Circle. Joshua looked for Victoria, but she was not to be found. Pete joined his Uncle Mark and the rest of the Engleman family as they embraced Sarah. The Galbraiths rallied around the cart bearing Emily into the town. The Massouds led a communal prayer of thanksgiving. The McClains wept on each other’s shoulders, their tears a mix of relief and grief.

  From this scene, Edward, Charlie, and Pete pulled Joshua into the courthouse. Raymond Jones and Lewis Johnson were already there waiting with a third man. Pete fought back tears of joy but couldn’t help embracing John Cooper when he saw him, alive and well, save for his weakened condition.

  “You don’t know how glad I am to see you,” Pete said.

  “I can imagine.”

  “Gentlemen,” Raymond Jones said. “I want to thank you all for the service you’ve given the people of this island. Now that the Falcons are leaving, we can enjoy the victory purchased by the deaths of so many.”

  Edward cleared his throat, though not because of any phlegm. “We shouldn’t celebrate yet. We don’t know why the Falcons are giving up the siege. It’s likely they ran low on supplies and therefore could be back soon.”

  “The emperor is dead,” Joshua blurted.

  All heads turned to him.

  He continued, “I heard two of them talking while observing their withdrawal. They mentioned it. Whether it’s true or not, it would appear to be the reason they’re giving their men for leaving.”

  “You don’t think they knew you were listening, do you?” John asked. “Perhaps just trying to feed us false information?”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Why would their emperor’s death be a reason for giving up on the siege. They’ve already spent a month here and how many of their men have died trying to conquer us? It doesn’t make sense,” Pete said.

  “The death of a leader might cause political strife on their home islands. Rather than waste more men on a little island like this, their generals will pull back and protect the territory they already control. Whoever becomes the new emperor can either order a new attack or decide that Engle Isle isn’t worth their attention after all,” Edward said.

  “They don’t strike me as the type to give up so easily. I agree with you, Edward, but this isn’t the last we’ve seen of the Falcon Empire, no matter w
ho ends up sitting on their golden throne.”

  “Certainly not,” Edward said. “Mark hired the Punishers to help you drive the Falcons off Alimia. They may not come back here, but they’re still on that island. We can count this a victory, but unless you’re changing your minds, we’ve still got a big job ahead of us.”

  John gave a heavy sigh, “We’re not ready for that battle. This one has cost us more than we could have imagined. Roger Cunningham is still their prisoner. It’s wonderful to have Joshua back, the others that escaped with me too, but we lost many good people. Add to that, we’ve not had any word or sign of Rob, Tom and the Entdecker. Even the Alphina is far away at Isle de James, assuming she made it there without sinking. I’m sorry to say that, Pete, but it is a possibility.”

  “We’re hurt, but we’re not out of the fight. While we won’t be invading Alimia next week, we can make plans while we recuperate. I have faith that the Alphina will return to us soon. Hopefully with ships from Isle de James to help us rebuild,” Lewis Johnson said.

  A long pause ensued. The men cast looks at their feet as much as each other.

  “So,” Pete said. “What do we do next?”

  23

  The Death of an Emperor

  R ob rested from the work of gardening by leaning against the wall of the stables. Proud of his work, he thought of the courtiers who might soon see this garden in all its glory, for the laurel bushes were about the bloom while the roses and yellow cups were already there. He felt the sun on his face and closed his eyes. He imagined Liliana walking through the garden with him. For a moment, he was not the slave and she was not the noble woman, but they were equal in status. He allowed himself to pretend they would leave Porto Profundo, sailing away on a ship bound for the unknown adventures the world had in store for them. They were happy.

  He opened his eyes and stood at the sound of footsteps on the gravel path of the garden. He busied himself again, cleaning dirt of tools with his hands and gathering them to be returned to their places in the workhouse.