The Perils of Archipelago

by B A Simmons

  Sarah practically shouted. “He’s Mark’s son! If you let him die because of your anger at us, this entire island will turn on you. You will be hated and driven from Engle Isle like a lunatic.”

  This made Anna pause. Her anger abated in a moment of apprehension. The full potential consequences of her decision came to her mind as if sounded from a bell. She looked back at Sarah, who now pleaded with her.

  “Please think about what you are doing. He needs to stay here for a few more weeks. Then you can take him, and if your anger with me doesn’t allow forgiveness, then you can punish me by forbidding me to see him. Just please don’t sacrifice him for your pride.”

  “I will keep him here . . . on one condition,” Anna said.

  “Name it.”

  “You must allow me to study everything in here. Arrange for me to read your historical documents, your sacred texts—everything.”

  “You would have me break my vows as a sister in the Matriarch’s Circle?”

  “For your grandson’s life, yes.”

  Sarah sighed, opened another cupboard, and took from it a large book. She handed it to Anna with resignation.

  “You have an hour before one of the sisters comes to check on us. Be sure they don’t discover you with that, or anywhere outside the birthing room, or I won’t be able to help you avoid the consequences.”

  She left Anna and returned to the adjoining chamber. After watching Sarah go, Anna turned her attention to the book. It was quite thick, with a strange cover and binding. The cover was not leather or wood but some glossy, smooth material. Instead of the sewn and glued spines as other books, this had three polished steel rings holding the paper. It appeared that each page had the same three holes in the exact same placement. The paper itself felt smooth, closer in its constitution to the cover material than paper Anna was familiar with.

  The title read, Advanced Field Medicine. Anna opened to the first section, Triage. It was a word she had never heard nor seen before and, scanning the page, she noticed many others in that same category.

  This was going to be a difficult read.

  ***

  Signore Fabrizio d’Benicia owned and managed Deep Port’s largest and longest-standing apothecary shop or farmacia, as they called it. Edwin found them situated in a prime location. The shop stood smack in the middle of the city, between the hospital, the royal palace, and the university. According to everyone they talked to on the streets, d’Benicia’s shop was where the Falcon royalty obtained their medicines. There was no wondering why they enjoyed such success for so long.

  The difficulty came in selling the elixir to Signore d’Benicia. He knew very little Engle, and neither Edwin nor James knew Iyty. To their rescue came Patrizia, Signore d’Benicia’s granddaughter, who studied medicine and the Engle language at the university. She appeared before Edwin with long black hair, braided into one plait down her back, and emerald green eyes. Her smile set him aback and caused him to lose track of his thoughts. After several attempts to regain his concentration, he was finally able to tell her his reason for being there.

  “I’ve come to set up a contract with Signore d’Benicia for the distribution of my elixir. I’ve brought a letter of recommendation from Conte Marcel Aquila, the ambassador on Copper Isle.”

  He handed her the letter and listened to her melodic voice translate his words to her grandfather. After a brief exchange with him, she turned her stunning eyes back to Edwin.

  “My grandfather wants to know what your elixir does and how you come to have it.”

  Her Engle was almost perfect, and Edwin found her accent hypnotic.

  “Well . . . um, I—that is, the elixir is a sleep aid. It’s especially helpful for those who suffer from insomnia, whether due to stress or pain. It’s quite potent. But, um . . . as to our source, well, I’m afraid that’s a company secret.”

  He smiled at her and felt his face burning.

  Signore d’Benicia finished reading the letter from Marcel then spoke to his granddaughter again, who translated. “He says he is well acquainted with Conte Marcel, but will still require a sample to test the elixir’s effects.”

  Edwin looked to James, who pulled a vial of elixir from the box he carried. This he gave to Signore d’Benicia.

  “With my compliments,” Edwin said. “However, please warn your grandfather against using too much. A single dose is plenty to ensure peaceful rest and pleasant dreams. Anything more . . . well, it just isn’t safe.”

  Patrizia smiled again at Edwin. “I’ll be sure to tell him, Signore Johnson. Thank you.”

  “Please, call me Edwin. May I return tomorrow to see you— I mean to see him . . . uh, his conclusions and perhaps . . . sign a contract.”

  “Tomorrow should be fine,” Patrizia said with a giggle.

  “Until tomorrow then, thank you. Thank your grandfather . . . please.”

  Outside the shop, James nudged Edwin with this elbow.

  “You do remember that they’re our enemy, right?”

  Edwin scrunched his brow. “Of course. We’re doing what we came here to do.”

  “Right. I’m just making sure you aren’t getting distracted, Cap’n.”

  “Distracted? By what? What are you getting on about?”

  James tilted his head and batted his eyes. His voice went into falsetto as he spoke in an accent mocking Patrizia’s. “Yes, you may come to me tomorrow, Signore Edwin. Would you like for me to stare into your eyes a little longer?”

  Edwin frowned at James, fighting back the urge to rebuke him. He realized, however, that James was speaking to Edwin, not as a member of his crew, but as a friend. For indeed, they had become more than just crewmates.

  “Look here, James. I’m not going to allow a pretty face to distract me, so you can stop worrying. I was just flirting with her a bit to gain her confidence.”

  “Oh really?” James laughed. “I didn’t realize that stuttering and making a fool of one’s self was the way to impress a girl.”

  Edwin couldn’t help but grin sheepishly. “Well, I’m glad it’s been educational for you.”

  Upon returning to the Anna Louisa, they found Eugene and Ches aboard cooking a supper. Edwin realized just how late into the evening the day had progressed. He had not eaten since the morning, but only then recognized the knots in his stomach as hunger pangs.

  Duncan came back with Ian shortly after supper. Ian and Ches broke into a chatter in their pidgin tongue, comparing their exciting experiences of the city. Edwin retired to his cabin, where he composed an entry in his logbook before allowing himself to daydream of the girl with emerald eyes.

  Outside the cabin, James stood first watch, positioning himself on the bow. The glow of lanterns from house and shop windows provided the only illumination of the city before him. They cast odd-shaped shadows into the night air. From the corner of his eye, James saw one of these shadows shift. A subtle shift, but it revealed the presence of a person in a long, hooded cloak. James did his best not to show that he saw the mystery watcher. He casually glanced at the obscure corner every couple of seconds.

  After several minutes, the watcher disappeared into the night.

  Edwin arose early in the morning. It was his turn to cook breakfast, but he didn’t feel like starting the fire. Fate seemed to favor him that morning as a moment later, a delicious smell wafted in from the streets. After waking Ches, who had taken the final watch on deck, Edwin followed the scent to its origin: an inn just beyond the docks. He purchased freshly baked scones with butter, scrambled gull eggs, and a fruit medley. He paid the innkeeper’s children to help him carry the trays back to the Anna Louisa and delighted his crew with the breakfast.

  By midmorning, Edwin could wait no longer. He left everyone, even James, aboard the ship and wandered into the city. He did not rush to d’Benicia’s but occupied himself in the market at Alien Town before crossing through the gate to Deep Port’s heart. He passed by the university, impressed by the architecture. The enormous building
’s facade sported stone columns at least twenty feet high. Atop the structure’s roof were statues of people he did not recognize, nor could he guess who or what they represented.

  As no guards stood around the building, Edwin decided to walk inside, perchance to see Patrizia there. He allowed himself to imagine a conversation with her that did not involve talk of business or the elixir. All he found inside were lecture halls and auditoriums separated by a central atrium, which allowed sunlight into the inner rooms of the building. Inside each of the halls sat dozens of young Falcon citizens at various stages of attention. Though none dared lay his or her head down, a few bobbed and fluttered eyelids in vain efforts to remain awake. Others scribbled notes on parchment or wax tablets. Some of the lecturers shouted in animated proclamations while others spoke in calm monotones—all of it in Iyty, save one class where Edwin recognized his own language being pronounced with specific emphasis on certain phonemes and expressions. It was interspersed with rapid explanations in Iyty.

  As Edwin peered into this hall, he thought he spied the long black braid of Patrizia d’Benicia. Yet, just as he repositioned himself to get a better look, the lecturer ceased speaking.

  “Posso aiutarti?” he asked. Edwin realized that the white-haired man was looking at him.

  “Me?” Edwin blushed. “I’m sorry . . . I, um, I was just looking—that is, I heard my language and . . . well—”

  “Your language?” the man said.

  “Engle. You were speaking Engle, so I stopped to listen.”

  The old man gave Edwin a wry smile and turned his eyes back to his pupils. He said, “Students, we have an opportunity presented to us. This man is a native Engle speaker and, I assume, not very familiar with Iyty.”

  Edwin looked around the hall. Everyone, including the girl whose braid had lured him in and who was, in fact, Patrizia, was looking at him. Their looks varied from amusement to annoyance.

  The teacher continued, “Come down here, sir.”

  Edwin felt little choice but walked to the front of the hall where stood the old man and his knowing smile.

  “Students, let us find out about our new friend. Ask him questions.”

  “Come ti chiami?” someone blurted out.

  The teacher raised a hand. “Solo in Englese.”

  After a pause, another voice said, “What is your name?”

  “Edwin Johnson,” Edwin replied.

  “Of where you are?” another called out. However, before Edwin could answer, half a dozen others chided the misspoken questioner. They corrected his expression, “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from Isle de James.”

  “Why are you ’ere?”

  “I’m a merchant.”

  “Are you here to spy on us?”

  “What!? No, I’m here for—”

  “Do you want to take our children?”

  The teacher stepped in before any other questions came at Edwin. He rang a bell, dismissing the class. A couple of voices continued to shout questions at Edwin, but they were drowned out by the rest of the class in their efforts to depart the hall. Edwin waited for them to clear the room before moving toward the exit.

  The teacher stopped him.

  “I apologize for that. I didn’t realize my students were so against alien—excuse me, foreigners.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt . . .”

  “Why did you come here today?”

  “I am on my way to a business meeting and . . . nothing. I had no reason to come here other than curiosity.”

  “Curiosity is an excellent reason to enter a school, Mister Johnson.”

  “Yes, well I should probably not return to this one, given the reception I received. Again, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

  “Truly, you should feel free to come back.”

  Edwin checked the corridor to ensure he would not be ambushed by any rambunctious students. Seeing that no one paid him any mind, he moved toward the outside at a quick pace.

  “Edwin!” someone called.

  He turned and saw Patrizia coming toward him.

  “Patrizia, I’m sorry about that.”

  “No, no. It is us who should apologize. Some of my fellow students want to believe we are better than those born outside the empire. Even with the education we get here, they are still . . . ignorant. That is the right word, yes?”

  “Ignorant? Yes, you spoke correct.”

  She began walking with him toward the outer veranda. Perhaps she figured that he intended to visit her family’s shop, or perhaps she meant to take him there, for that is where they walked together.

  “I didn’t want to come too early,” Edwin said. “I wandered into the university just to see what it is like.”

  “Do you not have a university on Isle de James?”

  Edwin hid his ignorance of this. In fact, he did not remember if there was such a place on Isle de James, so he made his own truth.

  “We have schools with teachers, but not like this.”

  “You seem well educated. I thought you would have a university.”

  “I seem well educated? You are much deceived. I only know how to read because my father forced me to learn. You . . . you’re well educated. How old are you, Patrizia?”

  “I am eighteen years old.”

  “Yes, well, you know more in your nineteenth year than I’ll understand in my twenty-ninth.”

  She laughed at his silliness, though he was sincere in the compliment.

  “When you have sold your elixir, you will return to your home, yes?” she asked him.

  “Yes, but I intend to come back again to resupply my distributors. I hope your grandfather has had time to test it.”

  “Yes, he took it himself last night. He says he has not been able to sleep well since my grandmother died—two years ago.”

  “Good. I mean, not good that your grandmother died . . . or that it’s been difficult for him since. I mean, good that he tried it. I guarantee its effectiveness.”

  “Well, let us go see if your guarantee is as good as your conversation.”

  They entered the shop, and Patrizia led him to the back where Signore d’Benicia sat at a work table. He smiled at his granddaughter, always pleased to see her, but his smile grew when he saw Edwin.

  “Tu . . . Sei un magnifico giovanotto!” he said.

  Edwin looked to Patrizia, but she just smiled back at him.

  Signore d’Benicia rattled on in Iyty, hardly waiting for his granddaughter to translate one sentence before beginning the next.

  “He says, your elixir worked splendidly . . . just as you promised. He wants to create a contract with you to be your sole distributor on Isola del Re. You must sell him your entire . . . Oh, I do not know this work in Engle . . . fornitura.”

  “Supply? My entire supply?”

  “Everything you have right now, yes?”

  “Yes. Well, I can give him twelve hundred doses now, and then return with more in a few months.”

  Patrizia translated this to her grandfather, who expressed disappointment but still seemed happy. A contract was drawn up, which Patrizia translated for Edwin before he signed it. He did not think not to trust her, for she seemed incapable of deception. Rather, after dining with the family (per Patrizia’s request) he returned to the Anna Louisa late, feeling a mix of emotions.

  He hated the idea of leaving Patrizia without getting to know her better. At the same time, he had to leave to obtain more elixir for her grandfather. He still intended to sail to Pearl City to meet Marcel’s cousin and sell some of his stock to him. Yet, all of this paled in comparison to what he knew was going to happen. Many of the Falcon aristocracy, perhaps including the d’Benicia family, would become addicted to the elixir. It would interfere with their ability to function normally. Perhaps, it might lead Patrizia herself into harm’s way. Could he live with himself if or when this happened?

  The Anna Louisa left Deep Port early the next morning, having delivered the bulk of its
cargo to porters from d’Benicia’s shop and received a banknote for six thousand florins. Edwin secretly hoped Patrizia would be among the porters, though he knew it was a ridiculous idea. He spent the entire day at the helm, trying to get her out of his thoughts. He failed in this.

  He brought them back around the southern shores of King’s Isle, then traveled straight north for a day and a half before encountering Isola Lucca, or Lucca’s Isle. This island was no larger than Copper Isle but much lower in elevation. Much of the land was cultivated into farms. It seemed a quiet and peaceful place. From here, they left the Falcon Archipelago for The Three Sisters.

  Mary, Margarette, and Martha were their names (in Engle) and, while not part of the empire at its founding, they became the first conquests under the founding emperor, Octavo I. Isle de Mary, the largest and southernmost of the three, appeared in Edwin’s far-see on the second evening after passing Lucca’s Isle. Following his charts, he took the Anna Louisa along the western coast, avoiding the reef that protected this island and Isle de Marta. It was only a day and a half later when they came to the entrance through the reef and spied Isle de Margarette farther away to the northwest.

  The waters inside the reef became a magnificent blue, even in the deeper parts. Something on the sea floor gave them this beautiful appearance, though Edwin and his crew could only guess as to what. The lagoon fish were plentiful and a sport to catch. The fine weather made for excellent sailing; they almost wished they could continue sailing in circles as the lagoon seemed a paradise.

  They were not the only people to think of the lagoon as such. As the Anna Louisa neared to the southern point of the island, Edwin discovered villages built on pylons practically floating miles from land. Boats of varying sizes moved over the waves between the villages and the island. Some of them bobbed at anchor while naked divers submerged themselves for long periods of time. Often, they reemerged on the surface with nothing to show for their efforts. However, it was almost as common to see one pop up again hoisting the odd shape of a mollusk, covered in its shell.

  “I can see why they call it Pearl City,” Duncan said as they approached the harbor on the eastern coast of Isle de Marta. Indeed, the city shined in the afternoon sun almost as much as the water. The buildings were constructed using an alabaster stone, sometimes as plaster over the wooden walls, other times just the stone itself cut into blocks. It caught sunlight with perfection.