by B A Simmons
THE HELLHOUND CONSORTIUM
Book Two of the Archipelago Series
B.A. Simmons
The people, places, and events described in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright ©2018 B.A. Simmons
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by Glass Spider Publishing
www.glassspiderpublishing.com
Cover artwork by Steve Simmons
Cover design by Jane Font
Edited by Jessica Beifuss
To Shawn and Monte, the best times with the best friends.
1 – Alimia Mine
2 – Doctor Morris
3 – Edwin’s Golden Elixir
4 – A Heart Divided
5 – The Huller
6 – Farewells
7 – The Alphina
8 – The House of Humphry
9 – Gentlemen of Fortune
10 – Port Edward
11 – Alimian Towers
12 – Return to the Dome
13 – Big Nose Isle
14 – Homefront
15 – Aruth
16 – Edward the Toad
17 – Poulustus Sahko
18 – Max’s Isle
19 – Kudo Isle
20 – K’ork-eatop
21 – East of Alimia
22 – The Problem with Power
23 – Reunions
24 – Port James
25 – Shifting the Balance
26 – The War Galley
27 – The Consortium
About the Author
About the Publisher
1 – Alimia Mine
Out of habit, Rob watched the waves as they lapped against the side of the Entdecker. He stood on the quarterdeck, steering oar in hand, waiting for something to happen. What he hoped would happen was the quick return of Mark and the others. Rob’s mind tended to dwell on the worst that could happen—the possibilities were endless—and that’s why he distracted himself by looking at the waves.
A short distance away from the anchored Entdecker sat the Alphina. Her dark wood hull made her difficult to see in the night. Both ships were anchored off the northeast coast of Alimia Isle, where they had deposited a raiding party led by Mark. The plan was to use the cover of night to cross the plateau arriving at the mine. Mark was determined to carry out the collapse of the mine’s entrance as he had planned to do more than two weeks earlier, when they were still at Alimia Castle. Not having John, Charlie, or Malcolm, their chances of success were not getting better by waiting.
Rob had estimated the number of Falcon light infantrymen they had killed or wounded on Alimia somewhere between thirty-five and fifty, including those killed by poison. They all agreed that the Falcon commander at Port Alma must have called for reinforcements. Therefore, they had an indeterminable but surely short time before the current garrison was relieved and a new unit arrived.
“How long have they been gone?” Anna asked from the deck below.
Rob broke his gaze from the sea and faced his sister-in-law. He marveled at how beautiful she looked even in the blackness of a moonless night. Rob looked up at the stars, at one in particular. The Ayday Star was passing overhead.
Rob judged how far it had traveled across the black sky since they had dropped anchor. “My guess is between two and three hours. They could be close to the mine by now if Mark is being extra cautious.”
“He’d better be.”
Rob knew her concern wasn’t just for her husband but for her brother as well. Since he had not been on Alimia when they fought the Falcon infantry, Edwin was not counted among the heroes. Not by the mercenaries, nor by most of the people on Engle Isle. He insisted on being part of the raid to prove himself equal to the others. Only Eugene and James seemed to regard him with any of the respect everyone else gave Mark and Malcolm.
“He slew an Oric,” Rob said. “Isn’t that heroic enough?”
Anna knew what Rob was referring to. She’d fought the beast of Fishhook Isle with Edwin and Eugene. It hadn’t been until she told Doctor Morris of their adventure on Fishhook that she’d learned what the creature was. Morris told them its name and said they were somehow connected with the Duarves. He said that Orics were ferocious killers who had no other thought in mind but destruction. They were not particularly intelligent but could learn quickly by watching what others did. They sometimes floated from island to island on logs or other debris. They were not sailors, but if they captured a vessel they would drift around in it until they came to land. As hermaphrodites, they could spread like the plague if allowed to. In this light, Edwin and his crew had done the people of Fishhook Isle a real service by killing the Oric. It would likely have created offspring and continued to kill and eat the islanders if he hadn’t.
Perhaps it was because the Council of Elders had refused to let Doctor Morris teach his students about such creatures that no one really thought much of Edwin’s battle. It’s not that they didn’t believe it, but admitting they believed would garner them the anger of their parents. Orics, Ferlies, and other such creatures didn’t exist beyond the myths and legends. It didn’t matter how many times nor how well Edwin or Anna told the story of their bravery on Fishhook—and Edwin told it especially well—it wasn’t going to earn Edwin the respect he desired.
Anna looked again at the dark outline of Alimia.
“It doesn’t matter what he’s done already. Edwin will never be satisfied with himself until he’s done everything that everyone else has,” she said with a sigh.
“There’s ambition for you,” Tom said, coming aft from the bow, where he’d been signaling Pete aboard the Alphina. He snuffed out the light of the lantern and joined Rob on the quarterdeck.
Since their return to Engle Isle, Tom had hardly left the Entdecker. While there, he spent the night off her deck exactly twice. Once, on the first visit to his family, and the second after Mark and Anna’s wedding. He left before dawn the next morning and went straight back to the Entdecker. No one was sure why he was behaving this way, but they knew better than to worry about Tom.
“Ambition,” Anna said, “is going to kill Edwin if he’s not more careful.”
“Mark will look out for him,” Rob said.
“Is it bad to say that I wish you or John were there to look after Mark?” Anna said with stubborn concern.
“Why aren’t you out there, Rob?” Tom said. “Not that I want you in harm’s way. It just seems that you’re not as eager to fight the Falcons as you used to be.”
Rob thought for a moment before answering his cousin. “Perhaps I’m not as eager as I was before.”
Anna eyed him with a curious smile. “It’s because of Trina, isn’t it?”
“What? Why do you say that?” Rob sounded flustered. Tom smiled.
“C’mon Rob. We know you two are . . . you know,” Anna teased.
“Look . . . she . . . I don’t . . .” Rob couldn’t create a coherent response to the allegation.
Tom and Anna laughed, but then shushed each other. They were supposed to keep silent in case of a Falcon patrol.
Rob’s face was red, but not for the reason Tom and Anna thought. His feelings for Trina had culminated with friendship and admiration. He cared for her. Yet by comparison to what he still felt for Anna, Trina could not compete. This was a source of frustration for Rob. He knew that Trina was in love with him, or at least extremely infatuated. For the life of him, he didn’t understand why.
Perhaps, Rob thought, perhaps it will all work out in the end. There were just too many possibilities.
Mark lay with his chin resting on a stone. He could see the mine entrance ahead of him perhaps two hundred yards away.
The Falcon Empire had been busy. Their settlers had cleared all the bushes away from the entrance and the path that led from there to the smelters. Not only had they rebuilt the smelter, but new huts had been constructed around the mine entrance as well. This made Mark worry.
He turned to Jacob on his right. “I don’t like it. There’s just too many possibilities.”
“I tell you, they’re full of mining tools. The only guards there are the two in front of the entrance,” Jacob said indignantly.
Mark could not argue, but his gut told him this wasn’t going to go off quite as easily as he’d hoped. He felt that he had no choice but to continue with the plan as it had been laid out.
“All right,” he said to Jacob. “Take your group and hit the mine. Set fire to all those buildings. I’ll lead the others to the smelter. Meet us back at the landing site.”
Jacob said nothing but slid himself back as quietly as a shark gliding through the water. Mark turned to the left and saw Trina crouched by the corn stalks at the edge of the field they had crossed through. The stalks were green and the kernels had yet to form, otherwise Mark would have stolen a few ears and set fire to the field on their way out.
He motioned for Trina to move toward the smelter. She passed the signal on to those behind her and lifted herself just enough to lope down the edge of the field. From the stalks behind her followed Roger, Alfie, and Edwin.
Just as he began to move forward, Mark saw Jacob sneaking behind one of the new huts. Tim, Alistair, George, and Richard were moving in from the hill above the entrance. The first two each held three-liter amphoras of lamp oil while George and Richard both carried lit slow matches in their belts and bows in their hands.
Jacob waited until the other four were in position before walking out from behind the hut. He adjusted the armor protecting his torso and drew out his club in his left hand and the steel falchion he’d taken from the Falcon officer in his right.
The two guards were armed with spears and round shields. A short sword hung at each of their sides. They reacted immediately when Jacob revealed himself, calling out in Iyty.
Jacob laughed. “Sure, I’ll surrender, if that’s what you’re saying. But first I want to see if either of you can take me prisoner.”
The guards advanced on him in unison, moving away from the entrance of the mine. They had not taken but a dozen steps when George and Richard fired. George’s arrow struck the heart of the guard on Jacob’s left and he fell without uttering a sound. Richard’s, on the other hand, hit the other guard’s arm, pinning it to the shield it held. A piercing cry came from his throat before Jacob silenced him with the falchion.
Tim and Alistair rushed into the mine and began splashing the beams and supports with oil. Richard descended from the hill above the entrance, ready to face a rebuke from Jacob, when both men heard the creak of a door opening. The hut on Jacob’s left opened and for a moment a bleary-eyed half-naked soldier stood looking perplexed at the scene before him. In the next moment, he ducked back into the hut, slamming the door and shouting.
“Get me a slow match, now!” Jacob yelled at Richard.
Richard turned and ran into the mine. Jacob approached the door of the hut with purpose. On the last step, he lifted his leg and gave it a solid kick. He expected it to be bolted and braced. He was surprised when it flew open and even more surprised when the same man he’d seen a moment before came charging out with a helmet on his head and his hands full of sword and shield.
The soldier was fierce but calculating. He kept Jacob so busy parrying both sword and shield that he was unable to land a blow of his own.
Richard snatched the slow match from Alistair’s belt without saying anything and ran back out of the mine. Tim looked back out the entrance but couldn’t see anything. Through the darkness came the sounds of battle. He lifted his amphora, now only half full, and smashed it at the foot of a large beam.
“Take your oil and go set fire to the huts!” Tim told Alistair.
Alistair obeyed, letting the amphora hang from his left hand as he drew a short sword with his right. Tim drew out his slow match and began blowing on it to create an ember.
Another soldier exited the hut to engage Jacob but was struck in the hip with an arrow. George immediately began reloading. He cursed himself for his lousy aim and decided he should get closer to the fight. As good a hunter as George was, he wasn’t used to having to avoid one potential target while shooting at another. The last thing he wanted was to kill Jacob. Wounding him would be even worse, given Jacob’s reputation as a less-than-forgiving man.
Richard saw Jacob struggling with his opponent and placed the slow match into his own belt. He drew his sword, setting the guard on the defensive and causing him to back away from the both of them. He circled around to his wounded comrade and said something neither Richard nor Jacob could understand. The wounded man replied and began to push himself along the ground back toward the hut’s entrance. The aggressive guard placed himself between the wounded man and the attackers. George fired again, but the arrow was stopped by his shield.
Richard and Jacob stood ready to pounce. However, the guard was well trained and too smart to give them the opportunity. As soon as his wounded comrade was inside the hut he backed into it as well, using his shield to block the doorway.
He then began shouting, “Allarmare! Allarmare! Aiuto presso la miniera!”
Jacob dropped the falchion and reached into his belt pouch.
“Get that slow match ready,” he told Richard.
Richard obeyed him. “What are you going to do with it? There’s no oil on the hut.”
“Just do it!”
Once the match had a small glowing ember, Jacob pulled a grenade from his tunic and lit the fuse. The Falcon guard had been watching him. Suddenly realizing what Jacob held in his hand, he attempted to close the door. He was too late. The grenade passed over his head and fell into the dark hut behind him. The explosion came quickly, blasting the guard out of the doorway. Jacob used the falchion to finish him off.
Mark heard the blast of the grenade and looked up at the mine.
“Damitall!” he muttered. “I told him not to bring any grenades.”
He turned to Edwin and Alfie who were still splashing oil onto the wooden beams of the smelter. “Get it lit now. We’re out of time.”
Trina ran toward him from the south side of the building, her bow at the ready.
“Was that a grenade?” she said as loudly as she dared.
Mark looked back at her. “Keep a sharp eye! It’s likely someone else heard that too.”
He looked toward the east where a row of houses had been built. He saw no lights but a dog was now barking somewhere among them. From behind him, he smelled smoke and felt the rising heat of flames. Roger came around from the west side of the building, his bow was nocked but not drawn.
“The fire is lit, should we start back up toward the mine?”
“Fine. You take Edwin and Alfie and try to catch up with Jacob. Make sure he’s got the mine on fire.”
“And you?”
Mark kept his eyes looking into the darkness that was rapidly becoming illuminated as the flames crept higher and higher up the walls.
“Trina and I will be right behind you,” he told Roger. “I just want to make sure this fire grows big enough that they can’t just toss a few buckets of water to put it out. The stream runs right past it.”
Roger left and called to Edwin and Alfie. Just then an arrow flew out from the darkness and struck Alfie. Mark had seen the arrow but couldn’t see the archer. Whoever it was kept themselves well hidden in the shadows. All the same, Mark loosed an arrow in that direction. If anything, perhaps it would put the archer in a more defensive stance.
Anoth
er arrow came a moment later, this one aimed at him. It flew a few inches over Mark’s head. From the corner of his eye, Mark saw a figure run toward the houses. It was Trina, she was hunting the archer. Mark took this as his cue to advance. He would have to keep the archer’s attention while Trina located him.
He ducked down behind a short wattle fence that encircled a small garden. Using the fence to shield him, he ran along it toward the north. An arrow’s point suddenly popped through the fence just in front of him. He stopped and rose to return fire before the archer could reload.
There on the other side of the garden stood a woman, dressed only in her nightgown. She did not see Mark rise over the fence and aim his arrow at her until she had nocked another of her own. She gasped and they both stood as still as statues.
Mark could see her face by the light of the fire. She was not much older than himself. He stared at her for what seemed several minutes, his heart racing so fast he could hear the blood rushing through his body.
Mark let out a breath and the tension from his bowstring. He lowered the point of the arrow so that the woman could see he did not want to shoot her.
Suddenly, she raised hers and drew back. She did not have time to aim before an arrow pierced her side. Her arrow flew forward as she fell but it came out with a downward turn. The shaft patted gently against Mark’s chest and dropped harmlessly to the ground.
Trina rushed over to make sure the woman was dead. She looked at Mark, her face was stern and callous.
“Mark, we need to go!”
In the distance toward Port Alma, an alarm bell sounded accompanied by bugles calling soldiers from their sleep. Mark turned and began running up the hill toward the mine and the fields beyond it. He soon caught up with Roger and Edwin who were carrying a badly wounded Alfie. The woman’s first arrow had struck the inside of his thigh. Blood had soaked his breeches and the lower part of his tunic. He was crying, though as much from fear as from the pain, Mark supposed.
