by B A Simmons
“Mark!” she called.
Alistair also noticed them and began searching for something to write with. Mark came out from under the canopy and grinned widely at the sight. Twenty-three fresh recruits.
Among them were sailors and fishermen, farmhands and professional mercenaries. They were mostly in their third decade of life, a few a little older; but none over forty years. Their names were recorded and contracts signed. By the end of the morning, the Entdecker and Anna Louisa were ready to sail. A royal carriage pulled by groomed asinos arrived to take Malcolm to the palace. It also carried gifts—a crew of baronial porters delivered to each deck a three-pound cannon with a mount to attach it to the hull. There was no powder or shot, but Mark, Tom, and Edwin all stood, mouths agape and eyes beaming at the sight of the weapons.
Malcolm bid fond farewells and expressed expectations of reunion with all but Mark. For his part, Mark called out a farewell and waved, forcing a smile to his face as he did.
Inexperienced sailors were given hard lessons on seamanship by Tom on the Entdecker and Eugene and James on the Anna Louisa. Those with knowledge of the sea and how to travel were likewise tested, but by Mark and Rob, and the subjects were combat and political ideals. They discovered five recruits with strong combat skills and thirteen who were competent sailors. The mercenaries had either served in the Isle de James militia or as bodyguards for wealthy merchants. The fishermen proved themselves with fresh fish each day of the journey, and after the fourth day, the farmers had finally overcome their seasickness enough to make themselves useful.
There were two women in the group, Adele and Lizzy. Both were former militia and were quite capable of handling themselves around rowdy men. In fact, the only fight to occur among the recruits was between Lizzy and a young farmer named Trevor. It was a quick contest of words, initiated by Trevor, but ended with his bruised face dipped into the sea momentarily while Lizzy and Adele held him by the ankles. After he apologized, Trevor and the two women became friends as Mark ordered them to serve night watch together. Lizzy demonstrated her skills as a medic in making and applying woundwort paste to Trevor’s bloodied lip.
The new recruits expressed a range of feelings toward the Falcon Empire, from indifference to disgust. All of them knew of Alimia, both about the Falcon invasion and the resistance fight. They had many questions about the battles at Alimia Castle and Little Alimia. Mark refused to give any details concerning his own part in these fights but praised the others who were there.
“You’ll soon be sailing and fighting alongside some of them,” he said to the wide-eyed youths. Despite the fact that he was no older than most of them, Mark’s stature—both physically and socially—made him seem a venerable, aged warrior. The stories they had heard on Isle de James, like all gossip, had been exaggerated greatly. Despite his best efforts at deflating his mystique, Mark, and indeed all the original group, again appeared as heroic figures from myth and legend.
For his part, Rob did little to encourage the recruits. He served with them and pointed out ways to improve their sailing when they needed it. Otherwise, he sat listening to Doctor Morris and asking him questions rather than telling his own tale.
Morris taught as he had done on Engle Isle for years. Mostly, he told stories—legends and histories of the world. Some of his impromptu classes involved discussions of politics and social issues. He advocated freedom to choose one’s lifestyle, so long as that lifestyle didn’t threaten the peaceful existence of anyone else. Free from the restrictions of the Council of Elders and Matriarch’s Circle, he taught them about Duarves, Quillian, and Ferlies.
“Somewhere north of Nova Capri, on the far side of the Falcon Empire, is a ruined Duarve city. It lies mostly submerged beneath the waves of the sea. A few dilapidated structures still stand above the water, but what can we discern from these ruins?”
Doctor Morris’s question was met with blank stares. Finally, James Bell asked, “What does discern mean?”
Rob smiled, “He’s asking what we can figure from the fact that most of this ancient city is underwater.”
“Oh!” several of them voiced understanding, but then returned to silence.
After a moment, Rob continued, “It means that the sea was once lower than it is now. This is something mentioned in other legends. My question is, did this rising of the sea occur before or after our people came from Earth?”
A recruit by the name of Harold spoke up. “Humans didn’t come from Earth! That’s where we go when we die, assuming we’ve lived a good life.”
“You’re confused with Evan,” said another sailor, Gordon.
James cut in. “That’s just what the Servi preach. My mother always taught us that when we die, that’s it. It’s just the end.”
“You can’t say that!” Gordon cried. “That’s ative talk!”
“Are your family atives, James?” Harold asked.
“So what if we are?!” James challenged, knowing his seniority aboard the ship meant the recruits could do little about it.
Edwin appeared to end the conversation. “On this ship, and any other in our service, it doesn’t mean a thing whether you worship Ayday or flying purple people-eaters.”
The group laughed at this, but Edwin remained serious. “We are crewmates, and crewmates come before all else.”
“Aye, Cap’n!” James said.
“Aye aye,” the others voiced and the class dispersed.
Rob approached Doctor Morris and the two men walked aft. It had become their place of conversation on the Anna Louisa. Now, as the mountainous form of Copper Isle loomed ahead of them and the sun set behind them, the student found the boldness to ask his teacher a question that had been taboo on Engle Isle.
“What credence is there to the Ayday religion?”
Morris eyed Rob for a moment before answering. “I know your father is not particularly devout, but surely he’s taught you something about it.”
Rob nodded, “Yes, mostly it was my mother who told us that Ayday is the savior who will come to rescue the faithful—those that don’t forsake their humanity and go ative, that is. I remember when I was five or six, just before you came to the island, a Servi priest visited us. I don’t remember where he was from or even what he was doing there, just that many people were quite upset by his visit, while others were pleased.”
“I can give you my opinion on this. I don’t claim to know everything, but it does have much to do with what I hope you’ll eventually learn for yourself,” Morris paused, searching for the appropriate words.
“You don’t believe in Ayday, do you?” Rob asked.
Morris smiled wryly, “No. At least not in the religious sense. My opinion is that religion is what we use to explain what our reasoning can’t. It gives hope to otherwise hopeless people, and for some, like the Servi, it becomes their reason for existence. However, while there are truths in it, there is also danger. The most devout Servi will kill anyone they believe to be a threat to humanity. The danger in this is that once you adopt such beliefs, it becomes easy to justify horrible acts as part of that defense.”
“But what truths are there to the religion? I want to be able to discern between faith and science.”
“Rob, never disregard faith,” Morris warned. “When applied to correct principles, faith is a life-saving factor of humanity. Now, as for which parts are true—let’s talk about Ayday. First of all, Ayday is not a being, human or otherwise. It’s a clarion call. A request for help. Our ancestors used it to let others know they were in trouble, most commonly when their ships were sinking.”
Rob let out a chuckle. The idea of how a simple call for help had become a prayer to a divine being seemed comical.
“If you find that funny, wait ’til I tell you about the Servi temple ceremonies.”
“They have a temple?”
“Oh yes, they control several islands east of Nova Capri. On one of these islands, the Isle of Remembrance, the Servi protect many relics. They consider the relics s
acred, tokens of our esteem for our ancestors. For them, Ayday is the leader of the Others—humans who do not belong to this world. One day, these Others will come and rescue the faithful, leading them to Earth.”
“Are you telling me this is all true?”
“I’m telling you that I believe there is truth in it. I will tell you this: If the Others do come, it will not be in ships that ride the waves of the sea. They will come in ships made of copper and steel that fly through air and even beyond the sky.”
Rob’s eyes were wide with wonder and incredulity. Deep in his thoughts he accepted what Morris had just told him without doubt. Yet his brain did not allow him this luxury without processing his skepticism as well. Ships made of metal that brought humans from another world sounded as ridiculous as praying to a call for help.
Morris could see that Rob’s mind was troubled. He left his pupil with his thoughts at the aft gunwale and went below to rest.
The next morning, they approached Port Edward cautiously, wary of Falcon activity. As they entered the harbor, they noted two Falcon-made ships in adjoining berths. Upon closer inspection, one of these proved to be the Alphina. A human figure sat in a sling, hanging aft from the quarterdeck of the second ship. He was using a bristled brush to remove the painted Iyty name from the hull. As the Anna Louisa glided slowly past, the man in the sling turned and looked at them. A broad smile burst out on Richard’s face as he recognized the onlookers.
Hearty laughs and congratulatory slaps on the back were given liberally as the old crews of these ships reunited on the Port Edward wharfs. The recruits beheld the spectacle with mild amusement and admiration.
They were welcomed at the Silver Swan and Pete noted that Mister Hampton’s uneasiness seemed to disappear as he shook Mark’s arm. There were no Falcon sailors at the inn that morning; however, a couple of patrons eyed the meeting suspiciously. While Mark and Anna spoke with Hampton, Rob and Doctor Morris absconded to visit Paul and Pamela.
The jeweler and his wife were as pleasant and plump as ever and delighted to meet Rob’s mentor.
“I’m certainly glad to see you haven’t found a permanent abode in Alimian soil,” Paul told Rob. “When we heard of the goings-on there, we knew you had to be involved.”
“How could you have known?”
Pamela said cheerily, “We could tell that Anna wasn’t the only thing on your mind that night you came to visit us.”
“Oh, that wasn’t it,” Paul corrected. “The rumors that fly around in a town like Port Edward reach even our ears. Many people know of the Entdecker and the Falcon ambassador is likely the worst gossiper of them all. He puts his own spin to it, but we can still glean the truth from his propaganda.”
“Propaganda? What are they saying about us?” Morris asked.
Rob gave his teacher a questioning look. “Us?”
“Guilt by association.”
Pamela replied to Morris’s question, “Oh, that you’re pirates whom the empire drove from Alimia.”
“They know the name Entdecker and have offered a reward for your capture,” Paul added before his wife interrupted again.
“According to Marcel, Emperor Octavo is not at all happy with the military governor he placed on Alimia.”
“Marcel?” Rob said.
“The Falcon ambassador here at Port Edward. He’s a kind gentleman, not at all what you’d think from the reputation of his empire. He sometimes comes here to purchase jewelry. Even bought some of the items you sold to us from Isle de Joc.”
“Seems you’ve upset their apple cart,” Paul resumed. “The takeover of Alimia was supposed to be easy and their colonization of it, seamless. After all, everyone knew that Alimia was a backwater island ruled by that thug of a sheriff. Indeed, you hit them in a blind spot.”
“Did they seriously think that no one else would care?” Rob said.
“Emperor Octavo is beset with political strife. It seems he was looking for a way to appease some of the more ambitious courtiers on Isle de Rei.”
“Tell us more about this Ambassador Marcel,” Morris said.
“He’s fat!” Paul blurted loudly. “Even fatter than me! As if that were possible. And what’s more, he’s cleverer than he appears. He may seem to give away information, but it’s calculated. He never says anything of real worth. Nothing anyone doesn’t already know or couldn’t guess, but it’s enough to ingratiate himself and get you to divulge more than you should.”
There was an awkward pause. Rob sensed the tension in Paul’s voice and he looked at Pamela sternly. Pamela fanned her flushed face and averted her gaze.
Morris broke the silence, “He loves his food then. What other vices does he have, do you know?”
Paul looked embarrassed but it didn’t sound in his voice. “He’s a glutton for fine foods. Nothing short of exquisite. A Falcon supply ship arrives monthly with food just for him. Delicacies he can’t find outside the Falcon archipelago. However, I have seen his servants in the markets buying honey and asking about turtle eggs. It seems he has an affinity for these.”
“That’s true,” Pamela said. “Mister Dirks, our honeymonger, is always complaining about how Marcel wants to pay him in Falcon credit rather than gold or silver.”
Paul looked intently at Rob. “Rob, I don’t like what I’m seeing. The last thing I want is for Copper Isle to come under Falcon control,” he paused. “But I’m not a young man and I never was any good at fighting.”
“You don’t have to be,” Rob assured him.
Doctor Morris added, “There are workings in motion that cannot now be stopped. Either Mark and his allies will push the Falcons back to their home islands, or he’ll sink every ship they send out here. In any case, they will come to understand the consequences of their actions. Political stability is a poor excuse for conquest.”
There was another pause in the conversation, though this one expressed the comfort they felt in each other’s company rather than awkwardness. Paul reached out and wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“Will you stay for lunch?” Pamela asked.
“No, I don’t think we can. We’re to have a meeting at the Silver Swan and most likely set sail again before nightfall,” Rob replied.
“Oh, where you off to now?”
Morris responded quickly, “We’re going to Isle de Benjamin to recruit their assistance in this fight. I’m told they have some fine soldiers on that island.”
Pamela seemed surprised. “Oh, that will be quite a journey. Isle de Benjamin is a long way from here.” Paul eyed Morris with suspicion, though only for a moment. “Give our regards to that fair island. May Ayday speed your journey.”
Paul embraced Rob and shook Doctor Morris’s arm. Rob endured Pamela’s gentle but sloppy kiss on his cheek and bid them farewell.
Rob peered quizzically at Morris as they made their way toward the Silver Swan. Morris caught the glance and spoke preemptively. “If Pamela can’t be trusted, you’d best not tell her any of our true plans. I told her we’re on our way to Isle de Benjamin to test just that. If the Falcons react by looking for us between here and Isle de James, then we’ll know she let it slip.”
“I greatly doubt that she’s a Falcon spy,” Rob said. “She’s been living here for decades.”
“Oh, I don’t think she’s a spy, but if what Paul says is true about the Falcon ambassador, she’s being used. There’s an old saying: Loose lips sink ships.”
Rob understood, but then wondered how much Pamela may have already told Ambassador Marcel about him, his family, and most importantly, Engle Isle. Had Captain Rossini been sent to confirm the ambassador’s suspicions? If so, what must he think of the disappearance of the Perla de Margareta? These thoughts occupied Rob’s mind until he walked through the doors of the Silver Swan.
Here, his thoughts fled as his eyes beheld a scene that can only be described as revelry. The crews of four ships, bolstered by the recruits, caroused with food and drink and merriment to their hearts’ delig
ht. Pete and Jacob were recounting their exploits against the Falcon ships to their new crewmembers while Harland, Yusef, and Alistair sat with Duncan, somberly drinking to their fallen friends.
Rob saw Mark talking with Anna near the bar. He was halfway across the room before he noticed that Trina was also part of the conversation. Rob looked around to see that Doctor Morris was back near the entrance speaking with some of the recruits. In a moment of awkward hesitation, Rob stepped one direction only to retrace those steps. He searched the room for a familiar face to approach and converse with, but the only one that stood out was Mark’s. His older brother had noticed him and was beckoning for him to come. Rob let out a nervous sigh and steeled himself against his own discomfort.
“Where have you been?” Anna asked Rob.
Trina shifted her stance and folded her arms, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she looked at Mark. Rob faced his brother too.
“Doctor Morris and I visited our jeweler friends. They’ve given us some information about the Falcon ambassador here at Port Edward.”
All three listened intently as Rob related the conversation he’d just had, including Morris’s deception. Mark agreed that Pamela’s interaction with Marcel should be kept to a minimum.
“We’re going to assign the new recruits to Pete’s two ships. They will continue to harass the Falcons as before. The Anna Louisa and Entdecker will travel north to Fallen Dome where we can report to Tremblay our progress and recruit more. We also need to visit Bartholomew and see if he can get us powder. Without that, we’ll be outmatched in any pitched battle.”
“Bartholomew will want more from the—” Rob stopped himself and looked at Trina.
“From the Hellhound treasury,” Anna finished for him. “It’s all right, Rob. We’ve decided to tell Trina about it.”
“I can’t think of anyone more trustworthy,” Rob muttered, then he turned his attention back to Mark. “What about the others aboard the Anna Louisa? How long can we stay? Doctor Morris and I want to—”
“The Anna Louisa will go straight to Fallen Dome with the cargo of copper Pete just captured for us. Only the Entdecker will stop at Hellhound for the treasure. I’m sorry, Rob. We haven’t the time.”
