I'll be watching this.

Mighty glad your interested, SV!

A new chapter should be up shortly; probably tomorrow.

Samuel paced about on the foggy deck of the Imperial Roman frigate. He had received leave from Johannes, so he could go to Cyprus. Johannes had to go to some meeting in Rome, so he somehow got Samuel on a frigate to Cyprus. He still wore his uniform and such, and kept several braces of pistols hidden under his coat. A sword hung on his sash. If the Turks wanted the Sword, they would have to kill him first. If the Turks got their hands on the Sword, all of Christian Europe might fall. Maybe the Americas. Maybe the entire world. The totalitarian Ottomans would not hesitate to crush the world if they had the power to. This was serious business.

As of now, they were supposed to be somewhere around the heel of the boot of Italy. They had seen Italy for the last time the morning before. Now, they were in open water. Samuel hoped and prayed the Turkish fleet or some Barbary corsairs would not try to stop the ship.

"Ship ahoy!" cried a sailor in the crow's nest. "Flying Barbary colors! Corsairs to the starboard!"

An Austrian captain immediately spun the ship's wheel, lining up for battle. "Use round shot and prepare for battle, you slovenly seamen!"

Sailors and marines dashed about madly, readying boarding axes and swords, rolling barrels of powder and shot. The Barbary ship had friends. A minute later, a small, custom-built pirate flagship appeared from the mist.

The captain waved his tricorne. "Fire starboard cannons, you dastards!" he shouted in a deep, commanding voice. A huge explosion followed, and 24 guns fired directly into the Barbary pirates.

The Berber pirates shook it off and readied their own guns. With a cry of "Allahu Ackbar!" they let loose the cannons.

"Grapeshot!" the captain cried before being splattered by the shotgun-like bursts coming forth from the enemy guns. He fell dead on the deck, clutching his sword.

Samuel raced up to the ship's wheel. "Let's see, what would Themistocles do?" He remembered his lessons about the ancient Greek naval commander. He looked closely but quickly at the main enemy ship, doing mental calculations. He decided to go for it. "Men, prepare to ram!"

One sailor cursed loudly and profusely. He appeared to be English, and the first mate. "What the devil do ye think yer doin'! Ye don't ram vessels like it's 200 BC!" The first mate tried to shove Samuel away from the ship wheel. Samuel batted him in the head with a pistol butt and grabbed again the ship wheel. He drove the frigate straight toward the Barbary main ship. The pirates watched in horror and terror as the bow of the Austrian ship smashed into the center of the ship. Samuel's frigate took substantial damage, but the poorly-built pirate vessel, named the Libya, if he had read the plaque on the side correctly, snapped in two. The pirates who were not killed instantly dived overboard, only to be shot by blunderbuss guns the Holy Roman marines were firing.

The second pirate vessel just sat there, not firing, not shouting. The pirates just stared. Finally, to the Austrians' terror, a large group of Barbary galleys appeared from the fog. Doom was imminent.

Samuel looked through his spyglass at the enemy fleet. Things looked impossible. His ship was already terribly damaged and the corsairs would be twice as merciless since he had massacred the flagship. The Turk-paid Berbers closed in for the kill. Suddenly, a huge volley of cannonballs slammed into the left side of the fleet. More ships appeared from the mist. Samuel tried to see who they were, but could not make out the flag at the bottom. Six large military ships attacked the pirates viciously. Within forty minutes, it was over. 3/4 of the pirate vessels were sent to Davy Jones's Locker. An Austrian officer stood beside Samuel. He pulled two small flags out of his jacket and started to use them to signal the friendly ships. Who are you?

The reply came quickly. The Duchy of Sandonia.

Ten minutes later...

Sandonian marines helped Samuel and other Holy Roman officers climb onto the deck of the Sandonian flagship. Samuel had heard of the Duchy of Sandonia once. It had been formed by Crusaders looking for a base to launch supplies into the Kingdom of Jerusalem. It's flag was a red, Swiss-style cross on a white field. They looked like a cross between Italians and Slavs. A man in wearing a ridiculously large tricornered hat and a blue uniform with gold trim dipped his head. "Tislijiet!"

Samuel could speak Maltese. "I am Samuel Kleinheinz, ta 'l-Armata Rumana s-Santu."

The fellow smiled. He switched to Austrian. "Well, greetings. Pleasure to rescue some fellow servants of the Church! I am Admiral Paul Tito, at your service."

Samuel shook his hand, "At yours! Now, would you be so kind as to tell us where we are?"

"Certainly! You're off the coast of our dear duchy! Your ship needs repairs. I insist you accompany our ships to our docks. The Duke, Eduardo IV, would love to welcome Austrians. So many European countries ignore our wonderful country as a backwater. It is a shame. Come, let us show you Sandonian hospitality!"

The Sandonian fleet led the Austrian ship to the island, three miles away. The docks were slow and slothful. It was obvious that the duchy really was a forgotten backwater. The only traders that were there were from the Papal States and one ship from Genoa, home of Christopher Columbus. When they docked and walked the gangplank down to the island, an elaborate carriage pulled up, thy got in, and they raced off to the old Crusader castle that now served as a palace for the Duke and his officials. Samuel asked Tito some questions during the short, eight minute trip. "Why haven't the Turks or Berbers tried to capture this place? You're deep in their waters, you know."

The Admiral looked away nervously. "They... are afraid."

"Afraid? Of what? The castle is mighty, but it's not impregnable."

"Not afraid of that... This place is supposed to be... a 'portal.' "

" 'Portal?' Portal for what?"

"Monsters. I assure you, it is nothing. Just infidel superstition."

"Stop beating around the bush, Admiral. Tell me what I'm in for."

"Sandonian food. Sandonian women. Sandonian welcomes. That is all. I assure you, I don't think any of these claims can be substantiated."

"What claims?! What are you talking about!"

"Eh, some people have... vanished. Not right in front of anyone, or anything stupid like that, but they just went somewhere and were never seen again. Probably muggers and rapers in the woods, I say, not magical hocus-pocus."

"Do men and soldiers disappear?"

"Yes."

"Then I highly doubt that it has anything to do with muggers and rapers. Who'd mug a soldier? Answer me that!"

"I'm not Zeus, you know. I don't have all the answers to life's mysteries."

"In the little world I call 'Reality,' soldiers and villagers don't vanish randomly! This is preposterous! If anything happens to me or my men, you will have the Holy Roman Emperor knocking at your door!"

"Please, Captain Kleinheinz, you are perfectly safe! Nothing will happen to anyone. You are in for wine, women, and song and nothing else. Please relax, sir."

The carriage pulled up in front of the drawbridge. Cuirassiers sat rigidly on their horses, swords drawn in salute as the Admiral, Samuel, and the others entered the castle. Thirty minutes later, they were brought in before the Duke. After formal ceremony and introduction, Eduardo revealed himself to be a humble, middle-aged man who was willing to talk to Samuel on a level playing field. Soon, the Duke ordered a meal to be prepared. After gorging themselves, musicians came in a played some ball music. Samuel stood off to the side, watching carefully for anything suspicious.

"Captain?" A girl about twenty walked up to him. The Duke's daughter Isabella. She had brown hair and the traditional 18th century dress. "Would you like to dance?"

He stared at several military officers and some guards suspiciously, but they just joined in the Duke's party like anyone else. "Uh, I'm afraid I don't know this one," he said nervously while pouring punch down his gullet with shaky hands.

"Captain, are you all right? Your shaking like a ship in a storm."

"Yes, perfectly fine. Perfectly fine, my dear. If you'll excuse me, I... uh. Nothing. Never mind. I am a nervous wreck. The stories about this island make me jittery. You're most beautiful and your father is a very kind and generous man, but I can't wait for my ship to get repaired so I can leave."

"If you do, may I come?"

"What? Why?"

"Because my father isn't as nice as he seems. He has... problems. He's had people beheaded. He blames random people for the vanishings. I'm afraid one day I'll snap, too. Please, get me off this island!"

This stunned Samuel beyond belief. "All right. All right. Yes. I'll get you out of here. But no one else. The less people who know about this, the better."

She nodded. "Thank you!" She pulled out a piece of paper from under her collar. "This is a map of the castle. It should tell you everything you need to know."

"Good. See you later. I've got to go; don't want to attract suspicion." He walked over to the musicians and pretended to carefully listen.

Later...

Samuel was told where his room was and was escorted there by several soldiers. They helped him move his bags and belongings in. The sword was in his trunk, well hidden under clothing articles. The soldiers saluted and left.

Samuel unfolded the map on a desk in his room. He was in the central tower-like keep. Under him was the ball room, on all sides were the rooms of his fellow Holy Romans. Above him was the room of Isabella. Above that, the storage rooms. At the very top, the turret cannons. He and his men would not be able to just walk out with the Duke's daughter. The Sandonians would undoubtedly use the cannons to sink the Austrian ship before they could even reach it. A commandeering of the cannons would be necessary. Time to create some fear. He knew what step to take first. If he terrified the guards, they would would be jittery and much less likely to want to stand outside and guard cannons in the middle of the night. He took off his uniform and found some black clothes. He took a black blanket and used a knife to cut a mask for himself, executioner style. He was completely unrecognizable. Satisfied with his costume, he looked out his window. It was a long way down. There were vines covering a good section of the tower, and he decided to risk it. Making sure no one saw him, he slowly crawled out the small window and clutched the vines. He made his was up and knocked lightly on Isabella's window. He heard her approaching and she slid the window open. "What are you doing, captain?" She looked sleepy and startled.

"Sorry to alarm you." He put the mask on. "I'm not the captain, though. No one will find out its me, I assure you. Now, if you hear anything, it'll probably be me. Don't worry. Now, adieu." He kept climbing up until he reached the top. There were several soldiers with muskets on watch duty. Samuel crept over the wall and hid in the shadows. One of the soldiers was marching back and forth along the wall. When he got close enough, Samuel reached out and slit the man's throat silently. The other guards did not hear anything, and kept staring out into space. A large fire was on the rooftop for the guards to cook with and give signals. Samuel stripped the dead guard of non-cloth items and made sure he would burn nicely in the fire. It had to look like he disappeared. He carefully and slowly lured one of the last two guards over behind a crate. Slit. Like a stealthy Japanese warrior, he crept up behind the last guard and plunged his dagger through his neck. Samuel set down the belts and rifles to make it look like they had disappeared into thin air. He burned the bodies.

The next day...

In the morning, everyone was terrified. Three soldiers had "vanished" on the central turret. The troops were near mutiny against their officers. No one was willing to stand watch. Samuel's plan had worked. The cannons would now be unmanned, leaving him free to dash for his ship with his men and the Duke's daughter. Time to move.

Awesome chapter Napoleon! I like the suspense.

Thanks a lot!

And now the first mate has a concussion. Nice work, Sam.

Like.

It was the first mate's fault but that would hurt.

LOL. That gave me a laugh.



Yes, it would. It's happened to me several times, mostly by teen girls and old ladies.

Things had gone awry.

To put it nicely.

When the guards had disappeared, soldiers checked on the safety of the guests. Of course, Samuel was not in his room, and the guards quickly put two and two together. At 10 o'clock in the morning, soldiers entered his room and arrested him. He was quickly brought before the Duke.

The Duke sat on his silver chair. His hand made a fist when he saw Samuel. "I offer you my hospitality and give you a king's dinner and you reward me by murdering my guards at their posts? Outrageous! You shall pay for your disrespect!" He got up on his feet, put his hand around Samuel's throat, and lifted him off the ground. "You vermin! You shall be hanged at 12 noon in the dungeon and your men shall be shot! Guards, take him away!"

The periwig-sporting soldiers grabbed him by the arms and dragged him out. They went down halls and floors until they reached the dungeon. "In you go, murderer!" They shoved him down the stairs. He stumbled and fell face-first onto the hard, cold, slimy floor. He picked himself up and looked around. It was huge. Cell upon cell, person upon person.

"What the..." Samuel raced by the cells looking inside each one. "What are you all doing in here?"

One ancient fellow wearing rags and sporting a long, gray beard answered. "Dissidents. Some of us didn't like the Duke, and this is what we got. Others... are to be sacrificed."

"Sacrificed? What are you talking about?"

"'Tis true!" The old man's eyes widened as he told his story. "This here island is the home of the Beast. The Minotaur. Every month, five of the youngest and plumpest of us are tossed into the Labyrinth. To be eaten. To be sure, I won't be going there in my condition, but I pity the fools who will."

"Wait, wait, wait. The Minotaur. Half-and-half bull and man?"

"Son of Satan himself, he is."

"And that's why people are abducted?"

"Aye. Indeed. Now, I'm no Philosophe, but something tells me you're going to be executed."

"Yes. Two hours."

"Well, my boy, how would you like to get out of here?"

"You know a way?"

"Aye. In a couple of seconds, a new group of guards will come down here and lock you in your own cell. Overtake them. They have the keys. Get them and free us prisoners! We could overrun the guards at the armory and rebel. I'm almost certain at least half the soldiers will join us. Do it, son. Do it."

"It shall be done!" Samuel saluted. Already, he heard the sound of soldiers rounding the corner.

"All right, pig! Into your cell!"

Samuel held his hands outward as if to allow them to drag him, but as the reached for them, he swiveled around, planted his hands on the ground, and did a backwards kick into the faces of two of the guards. The last guard aimed his musket, but couldn't get a clear shot. When one of the kicked guards tried to get up, Samuel kicked him in the forehead. Grabbing the man's rifle, he put a bullet in the chest of the third one. The first one whipped out a dagger, but Samuel did a spin to avoid the attack, put his hands on the man's back, and shoved him violently against the cell door of the old prisoner. The gray-bearded dissident grabbed the dagger and shoved it into the soldier's chest. Samuel felt the pockets of the dead troops and found the keys. He unlocked the old man's cell door. "Hurry, I'm sure they heard that shot!" Samuel said nervously as he opened the door of another cell. Samuel tossed the old man a key. "Unlock them, hurry! Can't do them all by myself!"

Within thirty seconds, ten prisoners were free. They searched around for makeshift weapons and watched the halls while Samuel and his friend unlocked the others. Within the next ten seconds, soldiers could be heard coming down the halls. The prisoners knew they would be mowed down if they faced them head-on, so they waited at the corner to pounce. When the soldiers reached the corner, they slammed into them with a loud battle cry. Fighting for revenge, they beat the Duke's men to death with chair legs, fists, and boards. Soon, more of the prisoners were free and their number reached thirty. More guards showed up and were swiftly overtaken. Now, with some equipped with bayoneted muskets, the prisoners continued their cell block riot and advanced closer to the largest set of dungeon doors. The guards knew they were now outnumbered, so they called for backup. Dozens of troops raced along the castle halls, all heading for the dungeon.

Samuel handed his key to a young boy and gave him instructions to free the others. Then, he grabbed the sword he had taken from one of the dead guards and went to rejoin the fray. He led them to the doors, where they started ripping them down. Thud. Down the wooden doors went. Surging into the palace, the now fifty prisoners clashed with and overwhelmed the guards taking shots at them. They had to hurry. Soon, the reinforcements would arrive. Quickly, Samuel and the escapees battled their way through the halls, trying to reach the armory. The bodies of soldiers littered the floors and blood was smeared on the walls. Samuel pulled out his map that the Duke's daughter had given him; he had hidden it in a slit in his jacket. He saw they were very close to the armory. Waving his sword as if leading his Austrians into battle against the Turks, he plowed through and cut up several officers and unlocked the armory. The rioters poured in and grabbed what they needed, namely swords and muskets. Now outfitted properly, they were ready for anything. The members of Samuel's crew especially took the lead. Together, they confronted the Duke's reinforcements in the halls outside the ball room. Musket smoke filled the air, and the moans of the dying and wounded filled the ears. It was an intense and bloody, but swift, showdown. Within five minutes, thirty soldiers lay dead.

Samuel waved his bloody sword again. "Advance!"

"Hurrah!" The escapees raced to the ball room, where there was more intense fighting. Men sword fought on the tables, hit each other with chairs, and blasted each other with muskets. Samuel used his sword to collapse a table that supported three officers, and they went tumbling to the floor to be finished off by the fury of the rebels.

Finally, the soldiers were fed up. They wheeled a cannon into the entrance of the ball room and readied it to obliterate the rioters. Life passed in slow motion. Samuel dashed as fast as he could toward the artillery men. Splat. Off went the head of one. Aagh! Down went another. In just 15 seconds, 10 artillery men, the whole crew, were dead. Samuel waved his sword victoriously, "Quick, turn it around! Turn it around! Turn it around!" Using brute strength, the prisoners wheeled the clumsy war machine around. The advancing soldiers watched in horror as the cannon was aimed at them and lit. With a huge explosion, the cannonball crashed clean through them, in a gruesome display of blood and carnage. It hit a wall and exploded. The storm of fire and shrapnel took out any who survived the initial shot. The prisoners wheeled the cannon out of the way and trampled over their corpses. They raced up the spiral staircase up to the floor where Samuel and his men had spent the night. After wiping out the soldiers on that floor, they advanced to the Duke's daughter's floor. They crashed the chandeliers, broke the windows, and destroyed the more than abundant paintings of the mad Duke. Soldiers formed a barricade outside the entrance of her room and fired into the crowd. Some were killed, but still they overtook the guards. Samuel instructed the rebels to go to the next floor, another armory, and that he would take care of Isabella. They cheered and rushed up to the next floor.

Samuel used a stray musket to smash the knob off the door. He looked around the room. "It's me, Captain Kleinheinz! Where are you?"

Isabella peaked around the corner and sighed, "Oh, thank the Holy Mother, it's you! I was afraid it was the rebels coming in to kill me. How did this start?"

"I overtook a few guards, grabbed their keys, and me and some old fellow freed the others. I also found out what causes the vanishings, but I'll tell you later. All's I'll say is that your Dad is a cult-following nut. For now, put on something else. If the rebels see you in that royal-style clothing, they'll probably kill you. I've got to sneak you out of here without anybody knowing who you are after I make sure the Duke is finished. I'll be out in the hall, guarding the doors. Let me know when you're ready." He closed the door. He loaded his musket and pistol and stood on watch. I also have to get the Sword. Earlier, the Duke had confiscated all of his belongings. That just gave him one more incentive to finish Eduardo off. A minute later, Isabella appeared wearing a pair of calf-length trousers, boots, and a corseted blouse. Samuel gave her a sword and pistol and pointed up the stairs, "Come on! Do you know where your father likely is?"

She bit her lip in concentration. "Um, probably in the south tower. He goes there a lot. He has a big library there. Plus, the barracks are over there."

Samuel nodded. "All right. Let's go help the prisoners upstairs, then we'll deal with your father." They ran up the stairs. When they reached the next floor, they saw the bodies of dozens of soldiers and rioters. It had gotten really bloody. Above, on the very top of the tower, were the sounds of more fighting. When they climbed more stairs, they saw severely outnumbered soldiers being pushed over the side of the tower to their deaths. Civilians in the town had now received word of what was going on and they grabbed their farming implements and torches and headed for the barracks. Apparently, Eduardo was universally loathed. When the last of the soldiers were finished off on top of the tower, ropes were thrown over the side and the prisoners repelled down to the bottom to aid the villagers. Now a couple hundred strong, the rebels advanced toward the south tower. Some of the soldiers, like the old man had predicted, had thrown off their coats and joined in the assault. Musket volleys came from the barracks, but the thirty or so guards were soon overtaken. Cheering once again, they stormed the south tower. The Duke's cavalry force tried to defend, but, even though they inflicted a good number of casualties upon the rebels, were pulled off and gutted.

With only a few men left, the Duke ran from room to room, trying to find a way to escape. At last, he saw a free window leading to the outside of the castle. From there, he would only have to get in a carriage, drive to the docks, and sail away. He bowed to the statue of the Minotaur he kept hidden behind a bookcase, grabbed the Sword he had confiscated from Samuel, and had two of his knights help him repel to the ground below. When the knights tried to follow, the Duke realized the rebels would be on his case far too quickly. He held up his pistol and shot the rope midway to the bottom. Helpless, the knights had no choice but to fight to the death. Rapiers in hand, they awaited their deaths at the hands of the rebels.

The Duke climbed onto the driver's seat of one of his carriages and whipped the horses into going at top speed. Just a few minutes later, he was at the docks. Rushing onto one of his private sloops, he told the crew a story about how the villagers had ruthlessly murdered his army and daughter. Furious and becoming more dedicated to their glorious leader than they thought they ever would, they sent men to sabotage the other boats, hoisted the anchor, and set sail, heading deep into the Mediterranean Sea. The rebels were till trying to overwhelm his knights, and were far too late to prevent his escape. "Now, what's this sword thing?"

Back at the castle...

Samuel drove his sword through the last knight. A muffled curse came from the man's mouth before his eyes rolled up into his skull. After realizing the Duke had escaped, it was his turn to curse. "I swear, I'm going to kill that man!" He organized the victorious rebels into cleanup squads and questioned a few prisoners, including one knight who had surrendered. "What's this Minotaur cult stuff?"

The knight laughed. "Oh, that. Superstition. The Duke is extremely entrenched in mysticism. He thought that the local seaside caves were the legendary labyrinths and that our numerous earthquakes were caused by the beast. He tossed people in. They just died of starvation or suicide, I assure you. He thought the Minotaur did it. What a joke. I also assure you I felt no strong loyalty to him. I'll join the new government, actually. I'll tell you anything and everything. For instance, there's a large gold stash behind that bookcase over there. And behind that other one, a carved statue of the Minotaur. Once again, what a joke. I think I know where he went, too."

"Where?!" Samuel fingered his pistol anxiously.

"Though he did not tell his Catholic company, he was close friends with Sultan Abdallah of Morocco. My guess is he's heading there."

Isabella spoke up: "Wait, Abdallah? The Abdallah that's been dethroned multiple times?"

The knight grinned. "What can I say? The Duke has a great choice in friends."

Samuel scowled. "We're going to Morocco."

After the ships in the dock were repaired, including the Holy Roman frigate, which the villagers insisted on calling Justice Bringer, after what it caused, Samuel, a few of the ex-soldiers, all of the Austrians, and Isabella set sail for the Muslim kingdom of Morocco. Little did they know what had happened in Rome. Samuel was now a wanted man, and he did not even know it. Johannes had problems of his own. The Justice Bringer was on its own.