Iron Horsemen

by Brad R. Cook

  “John Armitage,” my father said.

  Baldarich asked, “Why are you down here? We found a cell upstairs in the villa that looked like where you’d been held.”

  “I refused to translate. Kannard hopes being stuck down here will change my mind. He’s right.”

  “Let’s get you out of here then.”

  “Thank you for taking care of my son, but why bring him here? Are you with Baron Kensington or Lord Marbury?”

  I leaned closer. “No, we came on our own. Lord Marbury and the Grand Master have bigger problems. Baron Kensington was attacked. His daughter and I set out to help the two of you.”

  “You should have stayed in London.”

  I couldn’t believe my father was going to scold me from inside his dungeon cell. That was just like him.

  Baldarich turned to Mr. Singh. “We need to find some gunpowder to blast the lock. I’d wager this Lord Kannard fellow has an armory we can raid.”

  “Wait!” I pulled my bag off my shoulders and fumbled inside. Pulling out the charge, I held it up for the others to see. “Here, I brought this. I didn’t know what we might need.”

  “Good thinking, kid.” Baldarich took the charge and cut it open with his knife. Then he funneled the powder into the lock and turned to the others. “Get back, and get ready.”

  “Wait,” the professor pleaded. “They’ll hear you.”

  Baldarich said. “Sorry. Ignatius here prefers a loud exit, and it looks like this is the only way to break you out of here.”

  Ignatius stepped forward and tipped his hat to the man behind the bars. “I don’t mean to second guess you, captain, but are you using enough powder?”

  “I’m not trying to blow the door up, just move the latch inside the lock. It’ll be fine.” Baldarich motioned for everyone to step back, including the professor. “Guns ready, we may have to shoot our way out of here.”

  Lighting the paper from the charge with the kerosene lantern, I carried the flame to the lock and then squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears. A puff of smoke, and a loud bang echoed up the long stairwell. The lock popped, and I yanked the door open and rushed in to hug my father. But we didn’t have time to waste.

  Ignatius led us back up the stairwell, and, as we stepped out onto the arched walkway, we saw a man in a long black coat standing in the center of the colonnade, blocking our way.

  The man wore a black shirt, pants, boots, and vest. The only things not black were the golden buckles on his boots and belt, the buttons of his long coat, and the three golden chains crisscrossing his vest. And he was not alone. Two men stood on either side of him. Whether they were guards or members of the Knights of the Golden Circle didn’t matter. They were not going to let us pass.

  My father trembled. “Lord Kannard,” he whispered.

  The man in black smiled and, with a thick Belgian accent, said, “And where do you think you’re off to, Professor?”

  Captain Baldarich stepped in front of my father. “The professor complained about your hospitality. So we thought we’d take him off your hands.”

  “I don’t know who you are,” he said, wrinkling his nose as if he’d encountered a foul odor, “but you’re mistaken if you think you can just walk into my house and steal my guests.”

  “Guests. Is that what you call your kidnap victims?”

  “Use whatever word you wish, but I must insist he remain here. And now, unfortunately, it seems I must play the reluctant host to all of you. Boys, put them in chains and take them all back to the dungeon.”

  Baldarich held up his hand. “Since none of us are fond of chains, let alone dungeons, I’ll have to insist your boys stay right where they are while we take Professor Armitage back home.”

  Lord Kannard laughed. “You’re hardly in a position to insist on anything at all.” Without turning to look at the men beside him, he growled. “Disarm them, chain them up, and remove them from my sight. Now.”

  Baldarich whipped back his coat and pulled the leather-wrapped brass and steel hand cannon from its holster. “Run!”

  I didn’t wait to be told twice. My father, Genevieve, and I ran for the cliff. I heard the crackling of Baldarich’s lightning cannon and the rapid pistol fire of Ignatius’s Peacemakers, but I didn’t turn around. I was focused on one goal: get my father to the safety of the Sparrowhawk.

  Ignatius’s revolvers filled the air with the sound of gunfire, and we ran as fast as we could. At the cliff’s edge, I looked down and saw Hunter standing behind a grappling gun that rose from the deck of the half-submerged aerodirigible. Behind me, my father’s heavy breathing stopped for a moment as he stood transfixed.

  “Is that a boat?”

  “That’s the Sparrowhawk, and we’ve got to hurry to get on board.”

  “But how on earth…?”

  Just then, Hunter fired the grappling gun, and a thick line snaked toward us. The iron claw slammed into the edge of the cliff, about an arm’s length from my foot.

  “Slide down the line. Grab it with your hands and feet and slide as fast as you can.”

  “I will not.”

  “Dad, get down that line before the others get here.”

  Genevieve helped the professor snag the line and he slid to safety on the Sparrowhawk. As he tumbled onto the deck, I pulled out my Thumper, and watched Genevieve slipped down the line, Rodin chasing after her.

  I watched her land perfectly on the deck as though she’d done it hundreds of times before. I couldn’t believe it; she always did everything so well. Maybe it was because she was a noblewoman.

  Mr. Singh rounded a rock and stopped. He whipped around and shot one of the gun barrels on the side of his Katar dagger. The captain and Ignatius ran toward me.

  The captain yelled, “Get down that line, lad.”

  Hunter raised his repeating rifle, fired, and then swung the rifle’s lever. After taking aim he fired again.

  I twisted the leather strap in my hands and leapt off the cliff. Hooking the strap and the soles of my boots on the line, I slid toward the ship until, unable to stop, I let go of the strap and tumbled across the deck.

  Mr. Singh and Ignatius followed.

  Baldarich fired one last burst from his lightning gun and slid to the deck. “Ignatius, tell Coyote to get us out of here. Everyone else get below, now!”

  Mr. Singh pulled a lever on the grappler. The iron claw released and plunged into the water as he retracted it. All three of the Sparrrowhawk’s engines roared to life and we departed the cove as fast as possible.

  As soon as I was on my feet, I went to find my father, who had headed to the bridge. He held out his arms and relief flooded through me as I hugged him tight. We’d done it! We had rescued him, and we were all safe! “Don’t worry dad, we’ll be back at Eton in no time.”

  “No!” he pulled back, alarm plain across his face. “We can’t leave Malta.”

  I held his gaze. “You finished the translations, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And…?”

  “The answers are on the other side of the island.”

  CHAPTER 19

  THE ANCIENT TEMPLE

  Professor Armitage and Captain Baldarich stood toe-to-toe, both grim faced. I watched as my father tried again and again to convince the captain not to retreat, not to leave the island.

  “We can’t let the Hearts of the Horsemen fall into enemy hands,” my father pleaded. He gripped the railing and looked at Genevieve. “If only your father were here, he’d explain this better than I.”

  She didn’t crack a smile, her cheek tensed, and her nails bit into her palms.

  I clenched my fist. This wasn’t over, I may have my father, but Genevieve’s father still needed us. We still had to find the antidote to cure him. I hoped Baldarich would give in and do as my father asked—maybe for the right incentive. He wasn’t the kind of man to risk his crew for no good reason, but he was a Sky Raider and the lure of adventure and riches might be too much to pass up.


  “Captain, Genevieve already promised you a large sum for bringing us here. I believe the reward will be even greater than you can imagine if you help us just a while longer.”

  My father looked at me with a strange wonderment in his eyes. I don’t think he ever expected to see his son negotiate with a Sky Raider.

  “Captain, my son is right. If you return us to England with the hearts, I assure you will receive a great reward.”

  Captain Baldarich shook his head, and looked over at Mr. Singh. “What do you say, Mr. Singh? I can imagine a pretty big reward. What say we stick with this adventure a little while longer?”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Mr. Singh said with a grim warrior’s smile.

  “Professor, I’m going to hold you to that ‘great reward.’”

  I stood next to my father, Genevieve, and Captain Baldarich atop the conning tower. We had cruised to the other side of the island without issue, and now my father, dressed in clean clothes courtesy of the captain himself, studied the shore line looking for something. Dressed in a white shirt and brown pants—all a bit baggy from being a few sizes too big—my father no longer looked the fusty academic. In fact, the suspenders and open burgundy vest gave him a dapper appearance, and I wondered what he had looked like when my mom first met him.

  I watched him with growing admiration, seeing a side of him I had never known. My father was a bookworm, stuck in musty scrolls and bent over dusty artifacts, never one for adventure. Yet now, he leaned against the railing of an aerodirigible and studied the island with the eye of a hunter.

  After cruising along the shoreline at a slow but steady pace, my father blurted out: “Stop the ship! There it is. Right there.” He pointed and bounced on his tiptoes like an eager schoolboy.

  I followed my father’s extended finger but saw only rocks and more rocks.

  “Mr. Singh!” The captain yelled, and the familiar blue turban popped up from below. “Launch the longboat. Put yourself, Mr. Peacemaker, and three airmen in it.”

  “Aye, captain.”

  Baldarich and the others dropped below. “Let’s get to the longboat.”

  We collected our gear, and when I went to hoist my pack on my shoulders, I remembered my father’s eyeglasses, the ones he had left behind in his office. I opened my pack and pulled the out. “Dad,” I said, and held them out to him as he turned. “I didn’t know when I might see you again … but I thought you might want these.”

  He removed the broken pair Lord Kannard had apparently given him. “These have such bad lenses.” He fitted the spectacles back on his nose, tucked the legs behind his ears, and went after the captain.

  “You’re welcome.” I mumbled. At least he could have said thank you.

  We stepped onto the main-deck with Rodin flying behind us. Mr. Singh released the rope allowing the longboat to slip into the water.

  We climbed aboard and I watched as Ignatius spun the crankshaft. The propeller underneath the water whirred to life and I watched and listened to the machinery, astounded at how fast we were going. I had never seen a longboat with an engine. The European gunslinger grabbed the tiller and directed the longboat right up onto the rocky beach. We all hopped out and peered around.

  Then my father, back to being the single-minded Professor Armitage, ran toward what from the beach looked like a pile of rocks, but now I saw was the ruins of an ancient structure. Ignatius followed with a Colt in each hand, but the rest of us were more cautious, and Baldarich, with his weapon drawn, peered into the night as if expecting the worst.

  Genevieve and I followed Ignatius toward the stone remains. Once we were close enough, we could see megalithic stones standing upright, some covered in vegetation, some sunk deep into the rocky soil. Pulling away some vegetation, I saw a circular design etched into one of the stones.

  The professor was at my side as soon as he saw what I’d uncovered. He ran his fingertips over the engraving with an excited grin. “These are the eyes of the earth mother and this here, these lines, may represent the waters of the Mediterranean.”

  Genevieve asked, “Who lived here? It doesn’t look Egyptian or Greek.”

  “It’s older than both those civilizations. When people used these temples the Mediterranean was nothing more than a series of large lakes. Long before Hercules smashed through the Straits of Gibraltar with his sword, the people lived in villages below, and these temples sat atop mountains. They may be the oldest buildings in the world.” Professor Armitage let his fingers dance over another carved stone. “I could spend years here.”

  “We don’t have years.” Baldarich spit the words like grit. “Kannard will be coming.” He looked at the toppled stones. “I’ve sent the Sparrowhawk up the coast to fool him.”

  “We need to find the entrance.” My father surveyed the site. “It may be covered with stone or dirt, so look for any openings.”

  We fanned out over the site, poked at the dirt and checked the seams of the rock. My father and I drifted to the center of the complex where the temple would have stood. Grass grew through the cracks looking like an emerald mortar in the moonlight. The professor ran over to the edge of the circle to a pair of thin columns, two half-buried standing stones with a lintel on top. He began tearing weeds, dirt, and stones out of the way, tugging and pulling brambles and branches fast as he could.

  “Alexander.” He twisted around toward me. “Come look at this! I’ve found the entrance.”

  Everyone rushed to the professor’s side. Ignatius and Mr. Singh pulled small octagonal lanterns from their packs and coaxed the light to life. Captain Baldarich unhooked the palm-sized kerosene underwater lamp from his belt and lit it, too. Orange and yellow flickering flames illuminated smooth stone columns as, one by one, we squeezed under the lintel and into a mysterious world from the far, distant past.

  My heart thudded and I wondered if anyone else could hear it. I glanced at Genevieve, but she was staring at the surroundings with wide-eyed wonder. Walls with cutout niches greeted us as we entered a surprisingly large room. Debris littered the ground, a mix of bones, shattered pottery, and dirt built up over the centuries. A doorway at the back of the chamber led deeper underground.

  With Ignatius standing right behind him holding a lantern so he could see, my father carefully traversed a couple of steps cut into the rock. Light crept over the statue of a very curvy naked woman. The headless statue with its arms crossed under voluptuous breasts had wide hips that flowed down to a pair of rounded legs standing upon an elaborately decorated base.

  Professor Armitage gasped, and his hand went to his chest. “The Earth Mother, the idol worshiped by the oldest cultures known to man.”

  Ignatius cocked his head to the side staring at the body. “Captain, she’s just your type.” The captain chuckled.

  “She is the first sign listed in the ancient account. The passageway should be right here.” He scrabbled around with his fingers, pressing and pulling until he found what he was looking for. A loose stone. He grasped it in his fingertips and pulled. It crashed to the ground and the sound rumbled through the temple like a lion’s growl. The professor spun around, and everyone else raised their weapons.

  I ran over to my father. “You found it.” Together we pulled away the other stones to reveal a hidden passageway. I took Ignatius’s lantern and stepped into the unknown. After a moment, I stuck my head back through the opening. “It’s amazing! There are steps leading deeper into the rock.”

  We all climbed through the secret opening, and I led them down the rock cut steps. For some reason, I wasn’t afraid at all. Not of the potential danger from Lord Kannard. Not of the dark and the unknown waiting for us at the end of the steps. Instead, I was filled with so much energy, my head buzzed.

  The stairs ended at a wall flanked by two statues, one of which had fallen over. The wall’s flat face held a relief of four men on horses. Professor Armitage wiped the stone clean with his sleeve and studied the carving.

  Each horseman looked different and had a symb
ol above them I couldn’t read. My father decoded the symbols, and then pushed on the carving, which slid back into the wall.

  A low grumbling grinded above, and the entire ceiling, one continuous slab of granite, fell down upon us. We dropped to the floor, and the slab hit the fallen statue. The granite cracked into several pieces and dust filled the chamber.

  Baldarich pushed off the chunk resting above him. “Indihar, did everyone make it?”

  Mr. Singh replied. “I see everyone from the crew, but not…”

  “We’re here,” I said as I crawled from beneath the slab.

  No one had been crushed, and I thanked the statue. Without it, we’d all be dead. I saw an opening at the top that had been blocked by the slab. The smooth bare walls held only the anchor holes where the granite had been secured. The dusty stone mechanics looked as pristine as the metal interlocks of a London factory.

  Think you can get us up there, Mr. Singh?” Baldarich asked.

  “All we need is rope.”

  “Who brought the rope?”

  I reached in my bag and pulled out the tightly bundled coil. “I did.”

  The captain looked around at his men who shrugged their shoulder. He gripped his nose and shook his head. “Thanks kid. You saved my crew polishing duty.”

  Mr. Singh took the coil from me and placed the coil on the stone floor just below the opening. He studied it for a moment and then nudged it slightly to better position it where he wanted it. Then he pulled a delicately carved flute from the scarf bound around his waist. He handed me his lantern and the lowered himself to sit cross-legged beside the coil, looking up once more as if checking to be sure the position was just right. I glanced at Genevieve and got a questioning glance in return. We both turned to Captain Baldarich who winked as Mr. Singh closed his eyes and began to chant in a soft, reverential voice. Then he put the flute to his lips and played, swaying back and forth ever so slightly. His methodical movements entranced me, and I watched in shock as the tip of the rope moved. At first it simply poked up from the coil like the head of a snake and swayed back and forth as if mirroring Mr. Singh’s movements, but then it began to rise. Higher and higher. And higher, until it reached twenty feet up, just an arm’s length from the opening.