Hannibal's Elephant Girl. Charley Brindley

       Printed in the United States of America

       First Edition November 2019

      This book is dedicated to

      James Brindley

      Some of Charley Brindley’s books

      have been translated into:

      Italian

      Spanish

      Portuguese

      French

      Dutch

      Turkish

      Chinese

      and

      Russian

      The following books are available in audio format:

      Raji, Book One (in English)

      Do Not Resuscitate (in English)

      The Last Mission of the Seventh Cavalry (in English)

      Hannibal’s Elephant Girl, Book One (in Russian)

      Henry IX (in Italian)

      Other books by Charley Brindley

       1. Oxana’s Pit

       2. Raji Book One: Octavia Pompeii

       3. Raji Book Two: The Academy

       4. Raji Book Three: Dire Kawa

       5. Raji Book Four: The House of the West Wind

       6. Hannibal’s Elephant Girl Book One: Tin Tin Ban Sunia

       7. Cian

       8. Ariion XXIII

       9. The Last Seat on the Hindenburg

      10. Dragonfly vs Monarch: Book One

      11. Dragonfly vs Monarch: Book Two

       12. The Sea of Tranquility 2.0 Book One : Exploration

       13. The Sea of Tranquility 2.0 Book Two: Invasion

       14. The Sea of Tranquility 2.0 Book Three

      15. The Sea of Tranquility 2.0 Book Four: The Republic

      16. Sea of Sorrows

      17. The Last Mission of the Seventh Cavalry

      18. Do Not Resuscitate

       19. Rod of God

      20. Henry IX

      21. Casper’s Game

      22. Qubit’s Incubator

      Coming Soon

      23. Dragonfly vs Monarch: Book Three

      24. The Journey to Valdacia

      25. Still Waters Run Deep

      26. Ms Machiavelli

      27. Ariion XXIX

      28. The Last Mission of the Seventh Cavalry Book 2

      29. Hannibal’s Elephant Girl, Book Three

      See the end of this book for details about the other books

      Contents

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

      Chapter One

      Tin Tin Ban Sunia and I slipped through the darkness, keeping low. I glanced up at the mainsail; it was slack, lifeless, its broad red stripe running down like fresh blood on sand. I turned to look back at Obolus. He stood in the center of the deck, his head down, with the last curl of his trunk resting on the layer of dirt covering the rough pine boards. He would sleep until hunger woke him. Pale moonlight spilled over his body like liquid silver flowing over a towering gray mountain.

      Tin Tin stopped me with a hand on my wrist. “You hear that one?” she whispered.

      I nodded. A low murmur came from the ship’s bow. She motioned, and I followed, both of us crouching below the row of shields lining the rail of the ship. The moon gave us a little light as we made our way forward.

      So late at night…who could it be?

      As we neared the bow, a few words floated back to us. “…with one voice…the priest…taking the ransom…”

      I tripped over a coiled rope and fell. My knee hit the deck, hard. Tin Tin’s hand was over my mouth in an instant, keeping me from crying out. I rubbed my knee as we stared wide-eyed toward the front of the ship. The voice stopped. My heart galloped as if Turanyu himself had gone wild inside my chest. I pulled Tin Tin’s hand away and gulped air, fearing all the while they would hear my pounding heart.

      Who are they, and what are they talking about?

      Our ship lay perfectly still in the dead black waters of the Middle Sea; nothing moved anywhere. We were so far from shore, we couldn’t see land in any direction.

      Other than my ragged breathing, not a sound could be heard. Even the rigging that seemed always to creak and moan lay silent.

      “…but not so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away.”

      Tin Tin looked at me, grinning—the words had begun again. It was a man’s husky voice, talking to someone but apparently taking no notice of us. I whispered a silent thanks to our Great Queen Elissa, long ago passed away but still watching over us.

      I heard soft footfalls on the opposite side of the ship, coming forward. I gripped Tin Tin’s hand and nodded that way. She pulled me to the mast, and we ducked behind it, pressing ourselves flat against the polished wood. The mast was thicker than my body and made from the trunk of a single fir tree.

      The