Authors: Gina Marie Wylie
He waved at the yellow cliffs. There had been hundreds of dralka rookeries in those rocks, and they had been occupied, some of them, long enough to nearly fill up with dralka guano. “We won’t lack for that. Sulfur is the critical ingredient at first, and when the first convoy returns laden with the yellow stuff, we should be in good shape.
“The large thunder weapons themselves represent another problem entirely. They weigh hundreds of pounds -- and some of the larger ones, weapons that can hurt ships, weigh tons. Andie suggested that we send runners through the city, asking anyone to donate anything made of iron they don’t absolutely need.
“We’ll have half-dozen weapons, if we are lucky. And we will be lucky to see the first in three months, and be lucky to make more than one a month after that. They are going to be difficult to make -- and very expensive, at least at first.”
“But necessary.”
“Aye. Now that we have samples of the thunder rods, maybe the smiths can do something with them, but Collum, we only have so many men we can put to this.”
Collum spoke positively. “And that is one thing the King can help us with. If we spread the knowledge west, people can make weapons there and send them to us. Men can be formed up and marched here, and they can escort food and other supplies.”
Melek sighed. “You remember they asked for maps. A few days after the Tengri shot at the city, Ezra, Andie, and Kris went over the plans for the road, Sachem. We have a great vulnerability there.”
“What sort of a vulnerability?”
“Most of the road is within thunder weapon range of the sea. A ship could cruise along the road and wreak havoc on wagons and men along the route.
“And Ezra warned of another thing. We have favored harbors with wide entrances to facilitate our ships. Those harbors are not as defensible as those with more narrow entrances. In any case, regardless, we are going to need a great many of those ‘cannon’ Ezra speaks of, just to protect harbors.”
Melek look at Collum. “Sachem, it is true the Dralka tried to make us all oath-breakers, but we haven’t paid our oath very much attention for a very long time. We have spent our time squabbling, building walls and fences.”
“We’ve had a few catastrophes to deal with as well,” Collum added. “But, you’re right. I don’t know, Melek. I wish I was confident that my brother would see all of this as clearly as we do. Alas, I am not.”
Collum sighed. “Still, he is the King. He’s not a fool and he’s brave enough. I hope that’s enough.”
Chapter 21 :: Down for the Count
Kris and Andie had known for two days when the King would be arriving. Melek had already taken them to a woman who worked up some proper dresses for them, even though neither of them were very happy about it. “We need to do as the Romans do, Andie,” Kris had told her friend.
“I hate fucking dresses!”
“I hate dresses, whether or not they are sexually active aside, Andie. This is important to Melek, and I think for Collum. The King has said exactly nothing about what he thinks of what’s happened. That can’t be good. You’d think at least an ‘attaboy’ would have been in order.”
“You might think that -- I might, Melek and Collum might -- but evidently the King doesn’t. Why the fuck do you think I have this piece of shit on?”
“Your naturally bright, sunshiny self?” Kris said innocently.
Andie stuck her tongue out. “At least they didn’t send some of the biddies to help us dress.”
Kris nodded. “It was a condition for wearing the dresses: Hey, Melek! We can dress ourselves!”
“Let’s get out there, cross our fingers, and hope this is over quickly.”
They went outside the small house they were staying in and joined the throngs moving towards the main square, waiting to see the King.
Kris and Andie were supposed to be honored guests, and people made way for them, bowing to them, smiling, and stomping their right feet. “We gotta teach these people how to applaud,” Andie told Kris sourly.
“Yeah. I have a piece of news for you. Something Ezra didn’t mention to you.”
“What?”
“He translated ‘fuck’ in all of its many varieties to Melek. Odds are the King is going to demand a faithful translation of whatever we say to him, to the best of Melek’s and our abilities. Please don’t use cusswords.”
“You are such a total wuss!”
“He could have us executed, right there, on the spot.”
“That would hurt,” Andie said, wide-eyed. “I suppose. You owe me one, because I’m not real good around authority figures.”
“Be good this one time, Andie. Please.”
“I’m just jerking your chain, Kris, you know I am.”
“And I’m just trying to make sure you don’t accidentally forget.”
“And jerking my chain,” Andie added.
“And jerking your chain. That’s also a phrase that doesn’t translate well, here, I might add, although for different reasons.”
There was a roar of sound from the direction of the West Gate, and everyone craned to look. Melek and Collum appeared. Melek looked much cleaner and neater than Kris had ever seen him before, while Collum looked pretty much like he always did.
The King was an older man, maybe sixty or so, and moved a little gingerly, like he was already infirm. He was riding a fancy cart. Kris would have called it a chariot, but it wasn’t very warlike at all.
He stepped down and turned to the crowds and raised his hands. They roared approbation.
He turned to the dozen people waiting for him on the podium. Kris and Andie, Melek, and Collum and the city councilors.
The King took a step forward and paused. Another man came up and stood beside the King, letting himself be used as a crutch. Kris saw Melek’s eyes narrow and saw Collum’s nostrils flare.
“Well, Sergeant or Captain Melek -- I’m not sure which it is -- you have held Arvala.”
“Yes, my King.”
“But the Tengri are on the East Finger in force, and you were unable to kill them.”
“They have weapons unlike ours, my King. If it hadn’t been for the arrival of strangers from even further away, we would have been lost.”
“You are a simple, credulous sergeant, Sergeant. You can’t honestly accept that the twin arrivals are a coincidence can you?”
“My King, our new friends have killed many of our enemies. They have taught us about weapons that will make us a match for the Tengri. If it wasn’t for them -- things would be bleak.”
“And you believed them?” the King persisted.
Kris was boiling, but as long as Melek was being civil, she would be too.
“Of course. The weapons they showed us work well enough. I am sorry about Kerl’s father and brothers who died here, but you can’t let petty animosities whispered in your ear sway your decisions. The short one, Andie, has shown our sea captains how to sail against the wind. Against the wind, my King! If they were with our enemies, they would never have done that! They wouldn’t have taught us how to make crossbows, to make the thunder weapons...
“My King, they have taught us a great many things. They are as loyal as I am. As loyal as anyone here in this square.”
“I am amused, Sergeant, that you seek to diminish a loyal retainer’s family and their deaths under -- very odd circumstances.”
Kris put it together. Melek was back to being a sergeant, and Collum was being ignored. It was back to their first hours in Arvala, when they’d been imprisoned.
Then Andie spoke and Kris wanted to die. “Melek, you ask that dumb
shit King of yours how many men he brought with him and how well he thinks they’ll stand up against the Tengri.”
Kris was pretty sure that the honorific Melek used when addressing the King didn’t change, no matter what Andie called him.
“He has three thousand, Andie. He says they can defeat any number of Tengri, and he’s not concerned about wild stories about strange weapons that shoot smoke.”
“Tell him I wish him the best of luck, but if he has any balls at all, he’ll gather up this useless mob of pukes and continue on south to prove his brag.”
Andie was speaking badly broken Arvalan, but there was no doubt that the gist got through to the King. He drew back his lips to say something, but Collum interrupted.
Collum roared in an exceedingly loud voice. “Men of the King! A woman, a woman has demeaned your honor and fighting spirit! She says you are not men! She says you don’t dare go south to fight the Tengri, but you will hang back and let the men of Arvala fight them once more. She says that you have not the courage to heed your oaths to our ancestors! That you are like this sniveling scum standing next to your King, comfortable with chains around your necks, just so long as you can avoid the same fate!”
There was a roar of anger and frustration, drowning out anything the King might have wanted to say. Two men, both older with very fancy robes, strode forward. “We are ready, my King! Order us south to destroy our ancient enemies! We will show Arvalans the honor, valor, and prowess of the men of the west!” the older of the pair said loudly, his hand on his sword hilt.
It was, Kris realized, obvious that Collum had wanted to preempt what would happen next.
The man next to the King turned to his sovereign and said, “My I have your leave, my King, to kill these traitors?”
“You have it!”
Kris was startled when the man’s hand dropped to his waist and he pulled dagger from a scabbard. What was she supposed to do? Stand there and let the bastard kill her, Andie, Melek, and Collum?
The pistol was in her hand as if it magically appeared. She extended it arm’s length just as the man took another step towards her, bringing his forehead just two feet from the muzzle of the 9mm. The pistol barked once.
At two feet, what a 9mm bullet does to a head is extraordinarily unpleasant. Worse, since the man had stepped forward, the King came in for his share of bits and pieces of bone and brain.
“You are cowards, you are all cowards!” Collum yelled. “Chain Breakers! I am Collum, Sachem of the Chain Breakers! Do not aid oath breakers! You were challenged to go south and fight! But you are cowards as well as oath breakers! You wish to war on women! What kind of soldiers are you?”
“Kill these men!” the King demanded.
One of the men who’d stepped forward, and who had received his share of gore, spoke mildly, as if making sure of his orders. “The women too, my King?”
“Of course the women too! One of them killed Kerl! Right at my side! She killed him!”
The man drew his sword, and Kris started to lift the pistol again, but Collum caught her hand and pushed it back down to her side.
The man took a step forward and without warning ran the sword through King Zod.
He turned to the soldiers and the stunned crowd. “I am Cressida, a general! I am no coward! I do not war on women! I do not break my oath to our ancestors! A king who commands me otherwise is no king!”
He waved the bloody sword over his head. “I came east to war against the Tengri! I came to break chains! What say you?”
The roars of the soldiers were joined after a few moments by the roar of the crowd, still a little stunned at the sudden deaths.
The general tossed his sword onto Zod’s body and stepped close to the men who had been waiting for the King. “You understand, Sachem, that you either deliver a victory or I will kill you myself?” His voice was much lower, not audible for more than a few feet.
“Oh, I’m sure I understand. Do you understand that we will need another week to prepare, including training the army with their new weapons?”
“They will be loath to give up their bows.”
Melek laughed. “General Cressida, once they see what these crossbows can do, they will beg you to be armed thus. Andie, please, show them.” He reached down and lifted a crossbow, the quarrel in place and cocked, and then handed it to Andie.
Then he reached for a fruit that Kris remembered seeing on her first day in the city that looked like a pomegranate. When Melek put it on his head, she spoke up. “No! Melek! No!”
Andie hardly paused, lifting the crossbow and firing. The quarrel took the fruit from the top of his head like the wind removing a hat. There were gasps from those assembled.
“Melek, General, is very good with a bow,” Andie said formally. “Would you like him to try to shoot a fruit from your head with his longbow?”
The general’s eyes were bug-eyed wide. “No.”
Andie grinned at Kris, who was still as stunned as everyone else. “We’ve been rehearsing all week. I haven’t missed once. I was standing a lot closer to him than William Tell was to his son, let me tell you!”
The rest of the day was spent closeted with General Cressida and two other generals, plus a half dozen senior captains, as Melek and Collum went over what they’d learned. There was no mention that Kris heard, at least not directly, about what happened to the King and his man.
The next day they took the
Golden Bough
out and ran the ship through her paces, then showed the visitors the work being done on making new crossbows and new quarrels.
* * *
Linda Walsh heard the pop of the radio, and she promptly picked it up. It was approaching midday outside, and the sun was barely up in LA. “Linda,” she said into the radio.
“Linda, is Kurt available?” It was Jake.
“Just a second,” she told the man and walked back into the nursery chamber and waved the radio at Kurt.
Kurt came up and she handed it to him. “Jake,” she said economically once again.”
“Right. Jake?”
“Kyle’s dead, Kurt.”
“Shit!”
“Yeah. It was those
damned birds. About two hours ago over in his direction I heard gunfire, and I found a place to look from, and I could see about a dozen of the buggers circling like vultures. I saw a couple of them go down, and after a bit I realized that Kyle wasn’t shooting anymore.
“I hustled over there, but there was nothing I could do to save him. They’re like piranhas, Kurt. I killed as many of them as I could, and I didn’t see any escape. I have Kyle’s dog tags, radios, some of his food and gear, including his P90 and his mags.”
“Damn!”
“Yeah, let me tell you, this isn’t like anything we’ve done before. I should have seen those damn dralka too, but I’m just not in the habit of checking the sky. The fuckin’ muj’s have to check the sky -- we don’t! What a mess! And, well, now there are a half dozen of those Tengri bastards headed towards where all the racket was.
“They haven’t seen me, but they aren’t likely to be blind. They’re going to know something was up... I didn’t police Kyle’s brass, for one thing. I buried what was left of him under some rocks and marked it, but they’ll dig him up for sure. They are going to see the black skin and freak.”
“What do you want to do?” Kurt asked.
“If this was the ‘Stan or Iraq, about now I’d call the Rain Man, or maybe get them myself, although that’s risky. But a half dozen...”
“Yeah. Well, let me see if I can get Mr. Boyle and that asshole from the government. Wait a few.”
Linda had already picked up the other radio that was tied through the Far Side door. “Linda for Mr. Boyle. We have a situation.”
Oliver Boyle wasn’t at the site -- he was at work, and it took a few minutes to patch him in. Jon Bullman was listening in though, from the site.