The Children of Archipelago

by B A Simmons

  “Waiting? For what?” Edwin said. His first mate shrugged, but his anxious expression said enough.

  Eugene led the other two back to the end of the quay, where the Falcon ship became visible past the several fishing vessels docked at the port. She sat at anchor right between the two points of land that formed the straight between the natural harbor of the bay and the open sea. Her port side faced them, and even without a far-see, Edwin could make out the two open gun ports.

  Presently a noise diverted their attention from the ship. Behind them, a party of men, led by Marcel’s butler came to the docks. The men were all armed and wore armor except for the fat figure of Marcel who emerged, huffing, from the middle of the pack. He gazed out at the ship from his home country with malevolent eyes.

  This perplexed Edwin, who until that moment hadn’t connected Marcel’s fit with the appearance of the ship. Was this what his butler had informed him of which then set him off? Why would this ship cause such an issue? The mystery of the situation was too good for Edwin to ignore. He was sure Marcel noticed him standing with his crew. Yet he made no effort to acknowledge them, rather he continued his glare as if sheer will could make the ship disappear.

  “We must keep an eye on this. Where’s James?”

  Eugene huffed. “Off with the other two ne’er-do-wells at the Silver Swan.”

  “He’d better keep clear of the ale, especially with Ches,” Duncan said.

  “Go fetch them. I want to be ready to leave at any moment, should the need arise. Until then, we’ll carry on with our business. I have one more errand to run.”

  Up the near-empty streets Edwin walked until he found the familiar diamond ring sign hanging above Paul and Pamela’s door. However hopeful he’d been at speaking with the jewelers again, Edwin was equally disappointed to find the door locked. He cupped his hands around his face to peer through the window.

  “They’re gone!”

  Edwin jumped out of his skin and cursed aloud.

  A scrawny-looking man with a wheelbarrow full of empty bottles stood behind him on the street. He exchanged an odd stare with Edwin before repeating himself.

  “They’re gone. The owners of that shop; I suppose that’s who you’re looking for.”

  “When will they return?” Edwin asked.

  The man shrugged his petite shoulders. “No one even knows where they went. Just up and vanished one night.”

  He lifted the wheelbarrow and continued pushing it up the street, gathering empty bottles left on the stoops of houses and shops. Once the man was no longer in sight, Edwin tried the door latch; it was locked. Again, he moved to the window where he noticed something which hitherto escaped his eyes. One of the many small rectangular panes was missing from the frame. Checking the ground below, Edwin saw no shards. Nor were there any still stuck to in the wood of the frame.

  The opening, as Edwin tested with his own, was just large enough for a human hand to fit through. His hand and forearm went into the darkness of the hole where he reached in to turn the bolt. After another surreptitious look up and down the street to ensure he was unobserved, Edwin entered the shop and bolted the door again behind himself. He stood silent and motionless for several minutes, waiting to see if a cry of alarm sounded in the streets. Hearing none, he turned his attention to the shop.

  The tables and display cases were empty. Gone were the jewelry, the dishware, the ornamented boxes, everything. A fine layer of dust covered what sparse furnishings were left. Moving past these, Edwin entered Paul’s workroom. He remembered entering that same space the previous year, where Paul told them of the priceless nature of the wares they’d brought him. Now that space was as bare as the front room. None of Paul’s tools hung on the wall or lay on the empty tables and bench. He searched the apartment above the shop as well. Each room vacant of anything personal. Only the furniture too large to move with ease remained.

  Edwin conducted a thorough search of the place, examining every corner and nook. He looked through every cupboard and drawer; even attempted to pry open loose floorboards. No clues to the jewelers’ whereabouts were to be found.

  Letting out a harsh sigh of frustration, Edwin moved again to the door. He peered out the window and waited for a couple to saunter past. He moved from one side to the other to get a better look up and down the street. A sharp pain in his foot drew his attention away. Bracing himself against the wall, he lifted the foot to see a long shard of glass protruding from his big toe. He pulled it out and dropped it back to the floor where another object caught his eye.

  A brass button. A button with a bird’s eye etched onto it. Its size told Edwin that it had belonged to a cloak or coat; but whose? He pocketed the button and checked the road one last time before leaving the shop and rushing back down toward the docks.

  “Paul and Pamela are missing,” he told Eugene, James and Duncan while they stood on the Anna Louisa’s deck.

  “Who?” James asked.

  “The jewelers. They’re our friends and allies. Rob found them on our first visit here. They fell in love with him instantly, but more importantly, they’ve secretly supported us against the Falcons all this time.”

  “And they’re gone? I take it we have no idea where,” Eugene said.

  “No, but I have my suspicions.”

  Edwin’s eyes shifted to the group of men still loitering around Marcel as he stood at the end of the pier. Following their gaze, Edwin noticed a longboat making its way across the bay from the Falcon ship.

  Edwin spoke without looking at his crew. “Get the Anna Louisa ready to sail.”

  “She is ready,” James said. “Except for the extra doses of elixir Marcel wanted. They’re still waiting to be offloaded.”

  “Keep getting her ready, until we’re ready to leave,” Edwin ordered and he disembarked again and walked at a slow, deliberate pace toward the Falcon ambassador and his entourage. While confused by his order, the men made themselves busy about the deck in a show of preparation.

  Edwin bowed once again to the fat ambassador. Marcel did not notice him, as two of the armed men with him stood between them. One of them, as Edwin took interested note of, wore a gambeson with brass buttons. Each button bore the eye of an eagle, and the top most was missing. The longboat was near enough the docks for Edwin to make out the boat crew and two passengers.

  “Excellency? We have the extra supply you ordered. Seeing you here has made me curious as to whether I should deliver it to your house, or perhaps…”

  “You will deliver it to my yacht,” Marcel shot back. His head turned for a moment to glare at Edwin but returned to the approaching boat as if compelled to watch it.

  “Thank you, excellency.”

  No longer perceiving Edwin as a threat, the two bodyguards relaxed and ignored him. Edwin took advantage of this to linger, and watch. As the longboat came to the nearest docks, Marcel smoothed out his tunic and passed his tongue over his lips. The two passengers climbed out from the boat and approached the ambassador’s party. The bodyguards tensed even though (as far as Edwin could see) these newcomers bore no arms. Marcel bowed, or rather bent his body as much as possible, toward them. Greetings were exchanged and Edwin understood enough from Marcel’s pleasant demeanor and gestures to discern that he had invited them to his house.

  They refused. They stood in front of him as Servi priests before a batch of new acolytes. The visible displeasure on their faces was enough to wither a moon flower. They began speaking to Marcel with harsh tones and gestures. Edwin fought hard to keep from smiling at the clear disregard of Marcel’s position and self-esteem. The men berated Marcel, feeding off each other’s anger, firing off rapidly in Iyty while pointing fingers at both him and the ship in the bay.

  Marcel attempted to defend himself, but each time he opened his mouth, he uttered only a few words before being cut-off. By the end of the conversation, Marcel stood with his eyes on the stone paving of the pier, his mouth closed and his face red. The men stood in silent triumph over him
for a minute before returning to the longboat. Marcel waited until they were boarding before turning to his butler and after muttering a few words, walked to the boat by himself. Edwin’s last view of the man was his awkward embarkation into the longboat and his ruddy face being rowed out to the awaiting Falcon ship.

  An hour later, Marcel’s butler returned to the docks with a few personal items from the house. By then, the rumors swirling around Port Edward told that Marcel had been arrested by agents of the Falcon Empire. Others said they were agents of the Hellhound Consortium in disguise. Yet others said that he was being taken back to King’s Isle to consult with the emperor, or to become the next emperor.

  Edwin dismissed all the rumors. He knew the truth. Marcel’s sudden departure from Copper Isle could only mean that Pete had been successful in using the ambassador’s note to secure powder from the empire and Marcel would now face scrutiny as a traitor. Perhaps, as Edwin hoped, he would be found guilty of aiding the enemy, however unwittingly, and be executed for the crime.

  The butler arrived at the Occio d’Aquila to find Edwin waiting with the elixir.

  “Ah, Signore Johnson. I am afraid his excellency will not be needing your medicine much longer,” the butler said.

  “Yes, I saw the commotion at the docks.” Edwin did his best to sound sincere. “Is there anything I can do to help the ambassador?”

  “Pray to Ayday that the matter is cleared up.”

  Edwin hefted the boxes up and ascended the gangplank to board the Occio d’Aquila. The crewmen, with confusion written on their faces, didn’t know whether to permit him or block his way. They looked to the butler for some sign of what to do. The butler rummaged through a coffer he’d brought from the house while Edwin brought the boxes of elixir to the cargo hatch.

  A sound caught Edwin’s ear. He listened for it again, but did not hear it; however, he was sure it had come from below him.

  “I’ll just set these down in your hold,” Edwin said.

  “No!” a crewman said as he placed himself between Edwin and the hatch. “I do it!”

  Edwin stared at the man, again the sound emanated from the cargo hold below him and Edwin delivered the boxes into the crewman’s arms.

  Ever the dutiful servant, Marcel’s butler produced Edwin’s payment from the coffer and dismissed the merchant.

  “Signore? Your countrymen did not wait for you and the seas are dangerous. As we are also sailing to King’s Isle, let us go together. For mutual protection,” Edwin said.

  “In this, we are grateful to you Signore Johnson. Are you ready to sail?”

  “Just give the word.”

  Within the hour, both ships departed Port Edward for the east. Edwin’s plan for revenge upon Marcel had been usurped by the Falcon’s own sense of justice. This he was fine with, but as he gathered his crew to his cabin that evening, he presented them with another plan.

  “Are you sure about this?” Eugene asked, ever the cautious one.

  “Almost completely,” Edwin admitted.

  “That doesn’t promote our confidence much,” Duncan said.

  “Even if I’m wrong, we’ll be dealing another blow to Marcel and the Falcons. We know they’ve used that ship to gather information on the consortium.”

  “We know they have at least five armed bodyguards along with the butler and the crew; easily twice our numbers,” James added.

  “Plus, one of us has to remain aboard the Anna Louisa. I’m not liking this plan,” Duncan said.

  “You followed me into worse danger when we rescued James on Isle de Marta.”

  The men squirmed. “We knew James was there and…”

  Edwin cocked his head to one side. “And?”

  “And he’s one of us. He’s part of this crew.”

  Edwin sighed. “I’ve always tried to maintain an equal society on this ship. I’ve listened to you, valued your opinions and trusted you. I have asked you to do some crazy things. You have all been willing to risk your lives for this ship, for each other, and the cause. Well, this is part of the cause. It’s no different than rescuing a member of our own crew.”

  “You’re not just trying to impress Rob?” Duncan said.

  Edwin smirked. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  As the sky to the east brightened, heralding the dawn, the Anna Louisa took advantage of a fresh westerly wind and came alongside the Occhio d’Aquila. The lone man awake on deck, the helmsman, noted the ship’s approach and waved at Ian who stood at the Anna Louisa’s helm. It was enough to make Duncan hesitate a moment before launching a crossbow bolt into his chest.

  Edwin and Eugene threw their hooks over the yacht’s railing and pulled the two ships together. James leaped aboard and took the helm, securing it with a rope to ensure the course could not be altered without difficulty. Duncan boarded next with Ches right behind him. The Fishhook Islander found one of the guards asleep on deck and without reluctance, drove his knife into the man’s heart.

  Edwin and Eugene came aboard and made for the hatch. Opening it in silence, they allowed Ches and Duncan to descend below deck. Edwin followed them, his sword and buckler ready for action, knowing Eugene was behind him. Six more crew members slept in hammocks in the main hold, while a barred door leading to the secondary hold could be seen behind them. Opposite this, behind the stairs, was the door to Marcel’s cabin, which comprised the front half of the ship below deck. Duncan took up a position watching this door, while Edwin waited for Ches to slide himself under the sleeping men to reach the secondary hold.

  Once on the other side, Ches fumbled with the bar and dropped it. Everyone froze. A man turned over in his hammock and mumbled something unintelligible. Ches opened the door and peered into the darkness. A moment later he looked back at Edwin and nodded his head. Edwin smiled back and lowered himself to the floor. He slid himself along the lower deck, though not with as much grace in the effort as his loyal subject.

  A hand fell onto his head. The limp fingers indicated that its owner was still asleep, but the limb posed a problem. There was no way for Edwin to get around it. To progress forward meant the hand would pass along his entire body. He took hold of the hand as one would a dragonfish, lifting it by one finger. He placed it back into the hammock and pushed himself forward once more.

  He gestured for Ches to keep his eyes on the sleeping crew while he entered the secondary hold. He was greeted by the awful stench of human waste and placed an unconscious hand to his nose. Unable to see in the darkness, Edwin called out in a harsh whisper.

  “Paul? Pamela?”

  A moment of silence was followed by a dry, gravelly voice. “Who’s there?”

  “Edwin Johnson. Can you move?”

  “Edwin? From Engle Isle? Yes, I can. Pamela… she’s not well.”

  “Cap’n!” Ches called.

  Edwin turned to see Ches atop one of the crew in his hammock, his knife at work on the man whose bloodied hands shot out in a vain defense. Two others were awake and shouting in Iyty. Eugene aimed his crossbow at one but had not yet fired as he also shouted back. Neither party understanding the words, only the actions.

  “Shoot them!” Duncan yelled to Eugene as he stood with his back braced against the forward cabin door.

  “Shoot them!” Edwin urged.

  The shot came with sudden silence. Only the thud of the sailor’s body against the deck made a sound. Edwin moved with decision and cut the ropes to each hammock; their occupants spilled onto the bloody deck. Ches lunged upon the next man and made short work of him. The remaining three cowered together in a corner, horrified at the scene unfolding around them.

  Edwin ordered Ches to hold his assault, but to keep the men in fear. It was a task he excelled at, even Edwin would have been intimidated by the sudden ferocity of the otherwise gentle man. However, Edwin was too busy working out solutions. Duncan needed his help holding the door. Yet, rather than joining him there, he instead picked up the bar which had kept Paul and Pamela secured in the secondary hold an
d placed it between the door and the top of the stairs. He grunted with the effort to wedge it between the two, knowing it was only a matter of time before it fell.

  “Eugene, go above and help James set the fire. Duncan, I need your help with Pamela.”

  Edwin returned to the hold, flinging open the door and finding Paul, struggling to move his wife’s unconscious body. Duncan took hold of her under her arms and Edwin her at her legs. Together, with their adrenaline pumping, they managed to lift the large woman out of the holds and up to the main deck.

  The scent of smoke made them turn to see flames and the figures of the Bell brothers at the stern of the ship. Once Paul and Ches had come from below, the hatch was closed and the haft of a gaff hook placed through the latch to imprison the crew to their doom.

  It was a difficult chore, requiring the use of a sling and all hands, to get Pamela onto the Anna Louisa. Despite his plump physique, Paul proved more able than anyone could have thought. Spurred by the desperate situation, he climbed aboard the merchant ship and rushed to assist his rescuers with Pamela’s ungainly body. With the rays of the morning shining across the waves at them, they cast off from the burning hull of the Occhio d’Aquila and set a course back toward Copper Isle.

  Inside Edwin’s cabin, Paul washed his wife and spoke to her in soothing tones. Edwin stood at the door, ready to assist. She mumbled as one half-awake, but never gained full consciousness. With the green peak of Copper Isle in sight, she slipped beyond the realm of the living. She remained in Edwin’s cabin with her husband weeping over her, until they arrived again at Port Edward.

  A funeral was arranged for the next morning. As a testament to her character, nearly the entire town attended. It reminded Edwin of Mark’s funeral. When asked by attendees of how she died, Paul spat at the ground.

  “Marcel! He had us imprisoned on his yacht for weeks. Edwin and his crew rescued us.”

  Condolences were expressed and tributes made by those who knew her best before Pamela’s body was burned on a pyre. Afterwards, Mister Hampton insisted they all come to the Silver Swan for a complimentary meal and drinks.