Refuge: Kurt's Quest (8 page)

*     *     *

The enemy soldiers surged forward, once again
in a compact shield wall.  Not anything like the formation that Kurt’s own
people were now using, based on the tactics of the Roman Legions.  It was more
of a formation that warriors from Europe’s Dark Age would have recognized.  That
used by the Vikings and the Germans of antiquity.  Not as effective as the
Roman method, but not any less dangerous due to that.

Kurt took a deep breath, blowing out the air as
fast as he could, attempting to cool his big body, which was probably still
burning at a level that would kill most living creatures.  His vision was still
blurred, his ears ringing.  He needed a rest, but was not going to get it with
an enemy advancing to kill him and his friends.

The Duke’s men, the dozen who were still on their
feet, formed up, their heads bowed with fatigue.  It was obvious to all that
they would not survive this attack.

The enemy soldiers roared their rage and
bloodlust and started running at Kurt and his friends.  He gripped his hilt
tightly and prepared to deal death while he could.

A ball of fire erupted directly in front of the
enemy, burning a dozen of them in its hellish flames while the rest recoiled. 
James Drake stepped forward, his staff held up in one hand while the other
waved in the air.  The tip of the staff glowed with reddish power, while flames
engulfed the free hand.

Drake waved his hand in a throwing motion, and
a gout of fire flowed from his arm into the left front of the enemy, ripping
into a score of men with a roar of flame.  There was some scattered screaming,
not lasting long, as the men burned to death.  Behind them came the longer
lasting cries of soldiers burned to pain, frantically knocking at the fire on
their clothing.

The fire having left his hand, he next pushed
the staff forward, this time to the right front, burning down more of the
enemy, until the entire mass started to move back, slowly at first, then with
greater speed.  Kurt could not blame the men.  Fire was terrifying, burning to
death a horrible end, a courage breaker.  In moments brave men were throwing
their weapons to the ground and running off like children.  And Drake, not
completely satisfied with the punishment he had levied against them for killing
his friends, sent ball after ball of fire after them, hitting the horsemen as
well, whose panicked horses tossed them to the ground and ran off into the
city.

Kurt shook his head, still in disbelief at the
power of the young man.  He was glad that James was his friend, since he
controlled a power that could kill him and those like him if used in the proper
way.

“James,” yelled Fenris, running up and putting
his hand on the young Mage’s shoulder.  “Stop it.”

Drake looked at the Elf with wild eyes, flames
still crackling on his hand and staff.  He looked back out over the city, and
Kurt was sure he was going to start throwing his flaming weapons into the
helpless town, which with its Dark Ages technology was a tinderbox just waiting
to flare with killing flames.

“Stop it,” yelled Fenris, and Kurt gripped his
hilt tighter and started that way, knowing that he couldn’t allow the young man
to destroy the city just because its king was a criminal ass.

James shook his head, his eyes clearing.  The
flames retreated, back into his body and staff.  His eyes then rolled up into
his head and he started to fall to the cobblestones.  Fenris dropped his bow
and grabbed the Mage under the arms. Kurt was there in an instant, helping to
lower Drake gently to the street.

“I fear him,” said the Elf, looking into Kurt’s
eyes.  “And I fear for him.”

“Me too,” said Kurt, looking at the now
slumbering young man. 
He had been mentally ill on Earth.  Now he is
supposed to be healthy, as well as powerful in the ways of magic.  But is he
really?  Or has his illness just been pushed in a different direction.
   One
thing Kurt knew.  As dangerous as the young man was to them, he was more
dangerous to their enemies.  And without him their quest was going to be much
more difficult, if not impossible.

Chapter Six

Jackie came down on top of one of the King’s
soldiers, her knee slamming into the back of his neck and pushing him
downward.  She leapt from his body, both of her swords coming free from their
sheaths.  As she landed she brought both blades up in a cross, blocking a sword
that was coming down at her in the hands of a very large man.  She pushed back,
moving the other blade away and the man was bent away from her.  In an instant
she pulled both blades out of the block, stepped to the side, and stabbed both
of them forward into the warrior as he fell forward, off balance from the
sudden cessation of her resistance to him.

Catching something out of the corner of her
eye, she ducked and twisted just in time to avoid a heavy spear that passed by,
its head glowing with power.  The weapon smacked into the heavy iron shod gate,
the shaft quivering after the head passed into and through the wood.

The Major swung both of her blades at one of
the u shaped structures that held the heavy bar in place.  The blades sliced
partially through the metal, not as far as she wanted.  Several arrows came
flying in at her, two striking and bouncing from helm and chain.  Her attention
was distracted from trying to get the gate open, and she turned to go on guard
against a half score of men who were heading for her.

I don’t have time for this
, she thought, boosting
her metabolism into high speed.  In that state she turned back to the bar,
grasped it, and jerked it upwards.  It took three strong men to raise and lower
that bar, and with cracking muscles and braced feet she pulled it up out of the
four brackets, then tossed the wooden timber over her head.

She turned back, waiting to be hit by many
weapons, to be greeted by the sight of four of the enemy falling to the ground
with arrows or spears protruding from their bodies.  And Gromli standing at the
door to the lowest level of the tower, two other knights by his side, battling
their way into the area in front of the gate.

The gate behind her shook, then one side
started to push in.  The enemy men yelled out, more of them heading for the
gate.  Gromli and his men struck some of them down from behind, then moved out
to make room for more of their people.  Jackie stood her ground, striking down
the men who tried to get through her to the gate.

One valve of the gate was pushed open three
quarters of the way, and the first of the men on the other side came running
in, crying out in their rage, ready to finally come to grips with the people
who had been galling them.  Jackie waited for them to get up to her and joined
them in their charge.  Soon the King’s men were the ones outnumbered, fighting
on the defensive.  And soon after that the fight was over, with those who did
not think the king they served worth dying for dropping their weapons and
throwing themselves on the mercy of the invaders.

*     *      *

“You have to do something,” sent the King of
the Nords over the scrying ball.

“And what do you expect me to do, King Gotrik?”
asked the Ellala Emperor from his chambers in A’atapona.  “I have no men near
to you.” 
Because I have need of them to fight these damned Germans and
Americans.  And the traitors who stand with them
.  He had thought it would
be an easy task to destroy the newcomers, who now battled without their
fearsome war machines.  He had been proven wrong, and they had revealed a
method of fighting unknown upon this world.  A method that had already cost him
an army.

“Can you not send some dragons?” asked the far
monarch.

The Emperor looked into the frightened eyes of
the King through the ball. 
And we’re short on those as well.  Maybe after
the newcomers up there are separated into a smaller group, I might be able to
send a couple up there.
  “I will see what I can do, Gotrik,” he told his
vassal, a lie, and one the other man might see through as well. 
But he will
soon be dead, and no longer a concern.

“Hurry,” said the human, his nervous expression
looking out of the globe, the sweat visible on his dripping forehead.

The Emperor waved his hand, and the scrying
ball went blank. 
No use worrying about a man who is already dead, and a
human besides
, thought the Half Litch, walking from the room.  The next
room over had a map of the north, including the Kingdom of the Nords, the North
Sea, and the Northern Peninsula that was the target of his search.  A wild land
of barbarians, both human and others.  And land of the lost, of legends of
Northern Empires that had faded into the mists of the past. 
And a land of
lost secrets, such as the one I seek.

*     *     *

“So, how do you expect to take that castle?”
asked Kurt, standing beside Duke Haraald.

“I don’t,” said the old man, staring at one of
the gate towers, one that had a number of armored men standing atop it.  He
pointed at the tower, at the man standing in the center of the warriors.  “I’m
not going to lose more men taking out that bastard.  We will trap him in the
castle and let them starve.”

“Aren’t you afraid his partisans might try to
relieve him,” said Jackie, her eyes narrowing as she brought the king into
focus. 
He’s not a bad looking man
, she thought, her eyes focusing on
the middle aged warrior who still looked trim and fit under his armor.  Then
she zoomed in on the face, to see the visage of a degenerate.

“If we had some hawks, or even a single
dragon,” said Fenris, staring up at the men as well with his own sharp elfin
eyes.  “I hate the idea of leaving such people behind us when we move on.”  He
looked over at the Duke.  “And have you decided who will take the place of the
king?”

“As long as it’s not myself,” said the Duke
with a smile.  “I just want to go back to my Duchy and live a quiet life.”

[And that is why he is the person we need on
the throne,] sent Kurt to Jackie.  [He is a good man, and one who will not
abuse his power.]

[Isn’t it cruel to put the job on his shoulders
when he doesn’t want it?] asked Jackie.

“But this is all moot when he is in the castle
and we aren’t,” said Haraald, looking back at the tower.  “While he is still
alive, he is king, even if we are in rebellion against him.”

“That’s easy enough to take care of,” said
James Drake, his eyes glinting with fire as he stared at the tower.

“James,” yelled Kurt, reaching for the Mage,
and pulling his hand back when he realized it was too late.

A fireball exploded outward from him to where
the king was standing, obliterating the man and throwing those who had been
standing around him off the sides of the tower.

“Problem solved,” said James, shrugging his
shoulders and walking away with a smile.

“You will have problems with that one,” said
Haraald, watching the Mage walk away.

“Might be,” said Jackie, looking up at the
tower, which was pouring black smoke from its top.  “But I think he’s going to
cause more problems for the people who are against us.”

[But the Duke is correct as well,] she sent
Kurt.  [That young man is the most dangerous of us in some ways.  And he could
destroy everyone else in the party with a thought.]

[Then we need to get him near to our enemies
and point him at them,] thought Kurt, watching as the gates to the castle began
to open, the men of a dead king no longer willing to defend his legacy.  [Now,
let us see to getting some transportation to where we need to be.  This was a
useful adventure, but it is not the fight we needed to engage in.]

*     *      *

The cog rocked in the waves of the Northern
Sea, rolling in over the starboard bow with the dominant current coming out of
the north.  The captain of the ship, a singular Nord know as Alred the Red, a
fitting name with his unusual, for a Nord, red hair and beard, kept watch on
the sea, his hand straying continually to the hilt of the long sword strapped
to his side.

“He looks like a pirate to me,” said Jackie,
looking back at the captain for a moment, then back out to the sea.

“The Nords are known to be sometime reavers,”
said Fenris with a smile, glancing back at the man.  “I wouldn’t be surprised
to find our good captain has captured his share of booty in the past.”

“I would rather have him than some merchantman
who didn’t know which end of the blade to hold,” said James Drake, staring at
the waves.

The young man, who had seemed to be losing it
in the city, had now returned to normal, or as normal as could be for someone
with the power he had coursing through him.  A smile was again on his face,
most of the time, when the troubled look wasn’t in his eyes.

Jackie nodded her head in agreement.  The five
of them, six if counting the Halfling, and the wolf, while powerful, were still
only a small party going into an extremely dangerous situation. 
And our
Dwarven Priest is really not of much use right now
, she thought, looking
over at the small humanoid as he lay over the rail, his pale face staring at
the waves that were causing him such gastronomic agony.

“A good morning to you, my friends,” said a
familiar voice.

Jackie turned from the rail to see Sir Gromli
walking from the hatch to the crowded cabins under the poop deck, two of his
seven men on his heels.

“Good morning to you, Sir Gromli,” said Kurt,
giving the man a short salute.

“It seems that our good Dwarf is not enjoying
this trip,” said the smiling Nord.

“And only idiots would choose this way of
transport when any other was available,” croaked the Priest.

“I enjoy the sea,” said the Nord, taking in a
breath and expanding his chest.  “It has been many years since I have been at
sea.”

“It was good of you to come with us, Sir Knight,”
said Kurt.

“My King ordered me to come,” said the Nord,
his smile growing.  “And, since he didn’t seem all that happy with his new
position, and I craved more of the adventure you people brought to our land, it
was a, how do you say, a no brainer.”

The Knight turned  to James, a nervous
expression now warring on his face with his morning cheerfulness.  “And how are
you this morning, Master Drake?” asked the man, forcing the smile to win.

“If you mean, am I still bat shit crazy,” said
the Mage, looking back at the Nord.  “Better than most days, though the Gods
only know how I will react to the rest of this one.”

The Nord looked away for a moment, his eyes
roaming over the waves, then back at Kurt. “And what do you think of our ships,
my Lord?” he asked the leader of the party.

“Quaint,” said Kurt with a smile, looking over
at Jackie.  “And what do you think, my dear.”

“I can’t wait for us to introduce three masted
schooners, or even men of war,” she said, remembering the ships she had seen on
Earth during the parade of tall ships.

“My uncle owned a tall ship that he sailed in
the Caribbean,” said James, a small smile creeping across his face.  “It was
actually a clipper ship, fast as hell.  He rented it out to the well to do who
wanted to experience sailing without too many of the discomforts.”

“And, what are these ships?” asked Gromli,
looking from face to face.

“Sailing vessels on our world, from ages past,
but still much more advanced that the ones you are using now,” said Jackie,
looking at the single mast of the cog that was barely propelling them through
the water.  And the best that the Nords had to offer, except for the longships
that their reavers used, none of which had been available in the harbor when
they had need of a ship.  “Something we can introduce to your world.”

“I thought your technology was failing on this
world,” said Gromli, a confused expression on his face.

“It is true,” said Drake, nodding his head. 
“But only for high tech electronics and fuel fed engines.  We have a history
with so much more, things developed before high tech was even a thought of. 
Windmills running pumps, fast sailing ships, canals with locks, printing
presses.”

“Which we already have operating in the Refuge
valley,” said Jackie, thinking of the print shops that the German engineers had
established to put out flyers to drop over the enemy positions.

“And once we figure out what we can get away
with as far as tech is concerned,” said Kurt, grinning, “there will be much
more.  There are wonderful times ahead for you and your people, Sir Gromli. 
For all the peoples of this world, once we can get them to stop slaughtering
each other.”

“Good luck with that,” said the Knight, shaking
his head.  “There are too many old hatreds, old wrongs to right.  I think you
people can do miracles.  But whether they can do that one, I’m just not sure.”

The man at the top of the mast, sitting in the
crow’s nest, started yelling and gesturing.  The Captain looked up, yelled
something back, then started moving and giving orders to his men.

“What’s going on?” asked Kurt, looking back and
trying to see what was behind them.

Jackie also looked, focusing her eyes and only
coming up with the sight of more waves.