Promises Betrayed: Voyages of Fortune Book Two. An Historical Fantasy Time-Travel Adventure.: Voyages of Fortune, #2

By Andrew Anzur Clement

Three eras. Two Orders. One gambit. Zero margin for error.
In California, 1921: Stranded more than thirty years into his future, time traveler Henry has joined forces with adventuress Alma Karlin. They must make their way to another continent if Henry is to return to his own era, as Alma continues her quest to keep the world safe from the Urumi, and the Society's plans to control time itself. Then, a message from Henry's long-dead parents reveals his true identity and urges him to pursue a different, more dangerous mission. He will have to start working against Alma if he is to accomplish the true ends of the Order of the Dragon. The only trouble is: can he hide his betrayal in plain sight?
In Russia, 1889: Her grandmother kidnapped and her gypsy camp under siege by its worst enemy, Natalia has resolved to reach a mystic object that could save her people. Facing starvation and defeat, her troop loses faith in Natalia's untested leadership. Then a shocking development puts Henry at fault for their dire circumstances. Can she find the inner strength to save her embattled camp from extermination?
In the Indian Ocean, 2005:Castaways Mark and Mei Hua question their place in the world after the actions they were forced to take during the deadly raid in Somalia. The situation on board the pirate vessel appears calm, yet the entire crew is in more danger than they realize. The Urumi's demon Order has set out to destroy them, but the biggest threat may come from the vessel's violent and secretive captain, who is willing to sacrifice the rest of the crew to achieve her dark, secret purpose.
Trapped in foreign lands and in a gambit larger than they can imagine, the only way forward is to trust the one mysterious voice that binds their paths together – even when that voice commands them to betray those they hold most dear.
Sometimes, the only way out is to make promises that are made to be broken…. 

The Voyages of Fortune trilogy is an eons-spanning, historical fantasy adventure. Its expansive story connects the royalty of the European Middle Ages with a space-folding pirate ship, sailing the high seas of the twenty-first century Indian Ocean. An action packed adventure of self-discovery where nothing is as it seems; when nothing is certain, the only one you can rely on is yourself.

Tags for Voyages of Fortune Book Two: Promises Betrayed 
-young adult fantasy adventure series
-time-travel
-shapeshifters & demons
-magic and mystery
- pirate ship
-high seas quest

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Anzur Clement
• Release date: Jun 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393474203

Book preview

One

San Francisco, California

September 1921

The sound of a boat’s horn echoed over the bay and wafted in through the window. As he looked out through its small frame, Henry Kovačič saw a fishing craft making its way from the wharf towards the two small peninsulas at the bay’s mouth. The ocean beyond remained invisible; the fog had yet to recede even halfway across the water at this time of late morning. The ship that had sounded its horn bounced towards the wall of vapor, over waves whipped by a strong breeze, as if bound for a reckoning with the unknown.

Henry cast his eyes down from the greasy panes of the only window in the room that he and Alma had rented at a small inn. His gaze settled on the sheets of yellowed paper in his left hand: the contents of the envelope inside the box that Alma had found in his parents’ silver mine. Fog-tinged light illuminated the pages.

The entire correspondence and accompanying set of instructions were in his mother’s handwriting; both were in Slovene, a language that Henry never suspected his parents knew. It was now clear that they had taken carefully disguised steps to obscure the centuries-long mission behind his upbringing – one that stretched far beyond Alma’s attempts to modify the control devices. The weight of the responsibility entrusted to Henry lay heavily on his shoulders even as a slight smile played across his features.

I’m back!

The door creaked as Alma Karlin, the woman who’d become his unwitting traveling companion about a week ago, traipsed into the room and shut the door. She turned to her left, away from Henry, undid her light red coat, and hung it on the row of pegs that were mounted on the wooden wall of the entryway next to the door. As quickly and silently as he could, Henry hid the papers back in the box, locking it with the plain iron key that had been enclosed in the letter’s envelope. He palmed the key in his left hand.

Alma began speaking with her back to him. Well, I have some good news, some bad news, and then some really bad news.

Henry continued to ponder the box on the writing table.

Alma turned from the wall pegs to regard him. Well, which do you want first?

Henry tried to drag his gaze away from the box before she could see him looking at it. Alma stepped into to the center of the sparsely furnished room. Have you found a way to open it yet?

No. It’s still locked. I’m just frustrated. That’s all.

Alma placed her hands on her hips in contemplation. Are you sure your parents’ never gave you a key to it, or something?

I told you. They never gave me anything like that. I’ve got no idea how to open it, short of smashing the box up, and that’s a bad idea without knowing what’s inside.

Alma padded over to a threadbare couch that once might have been a brighter color of red. She flopped onto it and rested her feet on the chipped varnish of the coffee table in front of her.

She looked over at him as she hunched her shoulders. Fair enough. Anyway, I just confirmed a few things at the library and the port this morning. So, as I said, what will it be? The good news, the bad news, or the real crap?

Um, the good news, I guess?

I was able to finally understand the next passage of instructions that Zitar gave to Veronika and Friderik of Celje. The next device is somewhere in Kyoto.

Great. So, when do we leave for Japan?

Alma shook her head from where she reclined on the couch. We don’t. At least, not yet. That’s where the first bit of bad news comes in.

Henry cocked his head at her.

I just checked with the brokers at the international transit terminal. For now, we’ll only be able to make it about halfway to Japan. Then we’re going to have to break the journey.

Henry shook his head, her reasoning not making sense to him as he recalled the money he’d given to Alma back at his parents’ silver mine.

Wait a minute. I gave you a thousand dollars last week. Can’t we just use that?

I already have, Gospod Kovačič, she said, using his surname with the Slovene equivalent of ‘mister,’ Well, part of it, anyway. Money isn’t the immediate issue. Our ship leaves at noon. Only, not for Japan.

Then what’s the problem? Where are we going?

Honolulu.

But that has nothing to do with the control devices.

Why, thank you, Time-Traveler Obvious.

I mean it. Why are we stopping there? For how long?

Look, Gospod. I don’t know exactly where in Kyoto the next device is yet. That, and the screw up, which resulted in you getting stranded here, has convinced me that I should probably quit being so naïve and start actually looking into Zitar’s original instructions before I modify another one of the devices.

But...what does that have to do with Honolulu?

Hawaii is a US territory where I can improve my Asian language abilities better than I can here. That way, I can learn to understand more of the original instructions faster.

"I’m all for that. But if you need to learn Japanese, isn’t the best place for that, you know, Japan?"

Ordinarily it would be. But that, Time-Traveler Obvious, is where the real crap starts.

Henry’s mental wheels turned. Alma, I still don’t see the problem.

Passports, Henry. Or namely, your lack of one. How do you think border guards from any country will feel about letting you cross international borders? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t have any ID.

Henry shook his head. Well, that’s true. But how is it a problem? Can’t we just buy first-class tickets? When I traveled to Europe, paying for first class exempted us....

Alma cut him off. That was over thirty years ago, Henry. After the Great War, most countries started enforcing strict passport control regimes, no matter what kind of class you travel in. Besides, we can’t just go spending money left and right. Don’t think what you gave me is going to go as far in 1921 as it would have in 1889, unless it somehow spent all that time earning compound interest in a bank. We’re traveling steerage.

Great. I guess that explains why we’re staying in this dump, too.

That’s correct. It’s not the rightful place I should be staying in, either. But for now it will have to do. Now, quit whining. Alma stood and walked into the bathroom. She shut the door. Her wispy voice filtered through it. If I were you, I’d get packing. Our ship leaves in two hours.

With Alma now unable to see him, Henry looked back at the box, which sat on the writing desk. He took the iron key from his left palm and inserted it into the small lock on the box’s front face. It opened without a sound. His left hand reached inside to the string that bound shut a small cloth bag beside the opened envelope. His fingers undid the loose knot. The bag fell open, revealing the object Henry knew from the letter would be there.

He pulled the chained medallion out of the bag and into the diffused light. The embossed figure of a dragon strangling itself with its own tail graced the golden medal’s surface. It was the same medallion that Friderik of Celje had worn.

Henry regarded the mythical beast for a moment, accepting his newest purpose. He returned the medallion to the bag and locked the box with the key. Henry rose, sticking the small iron key back into his undergarments. He began packing the box and the few basic items that he’d bought in this time into a simple cloth rucksack.

Alma emerged from the bathroom. She stepped over to the threshold where her suitcase and typewriter lay waiting for her to pick them up. Once again donning her coat, she opened the door and grabbed her baggage.

With his meager rucksack in hand, Henry Kovačič, the newest member of the Order of the Dragon, followed Alma Karlin into the lifting fog of late morning, now knowing that his aims of saving Malka and rescuing Natalia’s gypsy troop were only parts of a larger goal. And that the woman who led the way before him might prove a greater threat than she appeared to be, even as she called over her shoulder with a note of camaraderie:

Come on, Gospod. Our journey is just beginning.

Two

Near Włoszczowa, Russian Empire

December 1889

The Grigorites attacked another theft party in town today.

Masha, now the closest thing Natalia had to an advisor, stepped inside the wagon that had belonged to Natalia’s grandmother only a fortnight ago. Masha sat next to where Natalia was absentmindedly plucking her violin.

We can’t get by like this, she continued when Natalia didn’t acknowledge her. Food is starting to run short.

The granddaughter of the gypsy queen kept plucking. We’ve got to. There’s no other way out.

Masha let out a sigh. Look, I agreed with Henry’s plan to head for the control device south of here in Czorsztyn. But that was before the Grigorites started attacking our camp and our raiding parties at the same time. Henry hasn’t returned from the Invisible Circus for over a week. We’ve got to do as my father suggested before he was captured: go northwards, away from the Grigorites.

No. The control device down there will let us travel through time. That’s the only thing that can save the troop.

Natalia had not told Masha about her discovery of the two coming world wars, revealed to her by Sharp Ears at the Invisible Circus.

Masha shook her head. So what? Even assuming we can make it there in this condition, we still have no idea exactly what we’re supposed to do with the device or where Henry needs us to take it. Without those two pieces of information, taking the risk is pointless. Masha let out a breath, her tone unflappable as always. You need to consider that he’s not coming back this time, and act accordingly.

No. He already returned once. Everyone thought he was dead then, too. I trust him, and I won’t turn my back on him.

The problem, Natalia, is that this isn’t a matter of your trust in him. The rest of the troop is not sure why you are ordering them to face the Grigorites’ attacks when we aren’t prepared to do so. The group that got attacked today is outside. They’ve agreed that what you are requiring of us is pointless. They’re planning to leave the Sălaşa and surrender to the Gregorites.

Natalia stood, shuddering at the memory of her parents’ and brother’s deaths. What? But they’ll face my grandfather’s wrath. How could they think that’s a better risk?

Masha shrugged. It’s a simple calculation, if you’d think about it. Unlike us, most of the camp has no knowledge of the Fragment or the Invisible Circus. Let alone the control devices. They wouldn’t believe you if you told them. All they know is that you’re an untested leader with a history of impulsiveness and questionable competence, and that you’re asking them to embark on a dubious course. As far as they’re concerned, it’s doomed to failure. The group outside is convinced that if they surrender now, they will be treated better than if the Grigorites capture them by force. If I weren’t aware of the whole picture, I’d make the same decision in their place.

Natalia studiously ignored Masha’s last sentence. What we’re attempting isn’t doomed to failure. I’ll talk to them.

Attempting to exude a resoluteness that she did not feel, Natalia exited her wagon. Masha followed her out into the camp, taking in her surroundings. For most of their lives, their mobile community had been a relaxed enough environment. Now it resembled a besieged military garrison. Almost every able-bodied individual was either asleep or standing guard around a defensive parameter formed by the few dozen wagons that had not been destroyed or captured by the Grigorites. Almost every adult in the camp was injured, beaten up, or battered in some way. Their children looked on, as if having concluded that it would only be a number of days or weeks before they shared their parents’ fate.

Masha pointed to a cluster of people who stood on one edge of the defensive perimeter. Natalia walked towards them, trying to keep a serene beneficence on her features as she passed the others in the camp. Some of them had beaten her when she was a child for her lack of skills in the arts of theft.

She neared the cluster of people who were shivering in winter’s gray, cloudy night. Natalia took a confidant stance before them.

Masha tells me you are planning to turn yourself in to my grandfather’s camp. That is a bad idea. No matter what you may think, they never show mercy.

A middle-aged man stepped forward.

You leave us no choice, Natalia. What you are attempting is unwise: taking the Sălaşa into the stronghold of our enemy on your American friend’s say so? The whole camp – common sense in general – is against it.

Please, I’m asking you to trust me. I know that if you try to surrender to them, they won’t be lenient.

Natalia was unable to suppress another shudder.

The man shook his head. Several others in the group of about fifteen people did the same.

And how would you know that, Natalia? They may welcome our apparent change of heart. Since you are not allowing us to flee, you’ve left us with no choice but to give in. Your grandmother would never have risked the Sălaşa in this manner.

Who are you to say what Golden Fingers would have done? I am her granddaughter. There’s another way around these attacks. Because of the way you treated me when I was younger, I know how to fight. I can teach others. If the Grigorites attack again, I’ll....

The man scoffed at her. What? You’ll let them hit you and then play your violin at their pleasure? We heard how you cracked when Grigorescu’s daughter attacked in Częstochowa. You’re no match for them. Neither are we. If flight is not an option, surrender is the only way.

Natalia flinched. It had only been a week since she had commanded the Sălaşa to confront the Grigorites’ advances. Looking at the would-be deserters, Natalia saw multiple people nodding in agreement with the criticism. She shivered, barely remembering the fight in Częstochowa that the man had mentioned. The reference to it and her violin brought back the memory of how Ion Grigorescu, her grandfather, had ordered both of her parents and her older brother beaten to death. She’d watched the gruesome spectacle, unable to do anything other than play her instrument.

Her grandfather’s presence was something she had never been able to admit to anyone for some internal reason that she had never been able to name. Now she couldn’t do anything but watch these people flee. Natalia was powerless once again.

A few of the people in the group took a step towards her, as if sensing her weakness.

One of them backed up the man that Natalia had been talking with. Take a look around you, Natalia. The situation of this Sălaşa is quickly becoming hopeless. This is your fault.

No, it isn’t. This isn’t your fault, a voice in her head insisted, knowing that if she’d been able to warn the rest of her Sălaşa that the Grigorites were coming, they might have been better prepared to fight, to make it to the control device that Henry promised lay waiting in Czorsztyn, and – if the note from Sharp Ears could be trusted – escape the Grigorites and the coming world wars in which her troop and millions of others would be exterminated.

Please, I’m not doing this to be sentimental or out of a juvenile impulse. There is something in Czorsztyn that could save us. You’ve got to trust me. What I’ve decided upon is the best course of action for the Sălaşa.

A few of the assembled group appeared placated by the authority of her office but not the credibility of Natalia’s personal assurance. She looked over at Masha. As always, the girl’s expression was neutral, but her silence spoke volumes. It appeared that Natalia had convinced her, at least for now.

The man at the front of the group scoffed at her. Natalia’s head snapped around to him.

What you’re telling me sounds preposterous, he said. Unless a fully armed garrison of the Austrian army is down there in the Hapsburg Empire waiting to defend us, I don’t see what would be there that could save us.

Desperation crept into Natalia’s voice. What I’m doing will work. I promise. You’ve got to trust me.

Coming from you, young lady, promises have strained credibility. I’m leaving. Who’s with me?

About two thirds of the assembled fifteen nodded in agreement. Without waiting for further permission from Natalia, they hurried to their various wagons and began gathering up their things. The Sălaşa she was trying to save had just gotten smaller by another ten members.

Natalia wiped a tear from her eye at her latest failure as she turned past Masha, who she noticed shook her head slightly. The leader of the dwindling, embattled gypsy camp walked back to her wagon, wondering what was taking Henry so long. And what he would tell her to do with the device in Czorsztyn once she got there. She climbed back into her wagon and