On the Rocks

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On the Rocks Page 11

by Peter Rhodan


  Arturo nodded in acceptance of Oween’s somewhat measured observations. “So I take it this Radovas is his lieutenant?”

  “Yeah and ex-army like Dagobert and a couple of the others too. Not sure how he’d react to you taking down Dagobert, if you actually manage to do it, although he was always more the follower than leader. Lacked self confidence around his betters because he could not read or write. Interesting. I have never really thought about it like that before."

  Arturo considered things for a few minutes while they stood around in the area outside the smithy. “How good is he?” He asked Oween finally.

  Oween smiled crookedly. “Not as good as me and he knows it which is why he wouldn't accept a challenge from me. He be better ‘n you I think with this,” And he held up his sword. “But you fight different which will give you an edge, at least at first.” He paused for a moment. “Your fancy fighting style will only surprise him for a bit at first so you will need to end it early cause he’ll outlast you and adjust to your style pretty quick. You are quick but you lack the stamina a real soldier or warrior has.”

  Arturo took in what Oween said particularly about Dagobert’s ability to adjust to Arturo’s rather different fighting style but discounted the stamina observation due to his discovery that the local people appeared to lack the DNA modifications that humans had undergone over the centuries before the ban on DNA tinkering had been put in place. He was beginning to think these people must be a lost very early colony from right at the beginning of space colonisation. That seemed to be the only answer to the things he had noticed such as Oween’s poor night vision, the generally poor health of the locals and the short life spans they lived. Even someone without access to gene therapy would live to two hundred and fifty or more on most human colonised planets that Arturo had heard of. With regular therapy it was much longer.

  After his struggle to climb the mountain to Oween's eyrie Oween had assumed he lacked fitness, but it was really just the climbing the steep rocks that had been the problem, not a muscle set you used on a spaceship. When it came to sparring sessions Arturo had no real problem with keeping up although Oween still thought he lacked stamina.

  “So, take an experienced, trained, combat veteran armed to the teeth by surprise, finish him off really quickly and then talk his followers out of killing us anyway. Sounds like a plan, piece of cake.”

  “Piece of what?” Oween asked raising his eyebrows.

  Arturo realised he’d used the Anglic word for cake because he did not know the local equivalent. “Turn of phrase my people use, cake is a soft crumbly food so it means the job will be easy.”

  Oween nodded smiling but then turned serious again. “Well we should rest up until they get here. Always a good idea to let an opponent do the hiking to the battlefield.” He nodded to the others and they tripped inside Ceri’s blacksmith shop to await Dagobert’s arrival. Whilst they waited Arturo distracted them by talking to Ceri about waterwheels.

  He discovered that there was only one in the area and from the description it was only a small and not very efficient sounding undershot one used for grinding grain mostly. As he was obviously stuck here for the long term the best plan would seem to be getting an industrial revolution going, not a small task to be sure, but it seemed to be his best course of action. It wasn’t as if he was going to have plenty of time to work at it although his longevity may cause problems down the track. Hmm. He hadn’t thought of the ramifications of his long lifespan compared to these people. However that may work it he really had no desire to live in a swords and sandals fantasy setting for any longer than he had to. He described to Ceri an overshot wheel and how the axle, which was pretty much only used to grind grain on the one that Ceri knew of, could also be made to do other things such as drive a bellows to push air into a furnace or with gears it could be made to power a large heavy drop hammer.

  Ceri was intrigued by Arturo’s layman’s description of these devices and could immediately see the potential for improving the quality of iron and enabling objects to be made without as much heavy labour involved in manually hammering metal. Arturo then realised that this same drop hammer type operation could well be used to punch out die cut implements. Ceri leapt at this idea with enthusiasm when Arturo presented it to him, presumably something like this was not used locally Arturo surmised from the young man’s reaction. The time passed quickly while the two of them discussed the many possibilities opened up by such a process, Oween and Dryffyd both listening closely to the various ideas and thoughts that were discussed although rarely adding anything to the conversation themselves.

  Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of a female voice calling, “Hello?” From just outside the door. Oween jumped to his feet from where he had been perched on an upturned barrel and opened the door to reveal Briffet standing there dressed in a short jerkin made of leather with metal studs and trousers of some course material dyed a greenish blue colour in place of the one piece elegant but sack like dress she had been wearing earlier. She had a rather large knife belted to her waist and was carrying a bow and wearing a quiver of arrows on her hip. Her appearance surprised Arturo as this society had seemed very patriarchal and one in which women were domestic drudges and child bearers not warriors. In fact their place seemed to be more that of domestic chattels than real people as far as he’d been able to determine from his discussions with Oween and his brief observations of the locals and the people in the small town they had been to.

  Seeing Oween, Briffet smiled which Oween returned with an even bigger smile of his own. He was just reaching out his hand towards her when he must have realised the wrongness of her being there. “Hey, what are you doing here dressed like that?” He blurted out in his astonishment at her martial attire. Her face fell as his response but before she could say anything Oween continued. “No! No! This is not your fight, and there’s no way I’m letting those animals anywhere near you!”

  So saying he grabbed her arm and pushed through the door holding on to her and basically dragging her with him. “Ow!” She yelled at this rough handling. Arturo followed Oween out in time to see her shake his grip off and take a step back. “I am a better archer than any man in this whole region, and you know it!” She said seriously.

  “So what? Dagobert would love to get his hands on you and I won’t risk it.” Oween replied hotly. “Are you mad?”

  “You can’t tell me what to do Oween, you’re not my father!”

  “And that’s another thing. Does he know you’re here?” Briffet looked away, refusing to meet Oween’s gaze. “Didn’t think so.” He continued, shaking his head. He looked to be about to say something more when Arturo stepped in.

  “Is she really that good with a bow?”

  “Thinks she is” Oween said disparagingly.

  “Yes I am.” Briffet said hotly, frowning at Oween who scowled back.

  “Where I come from women fight too.” Arturo said simply. Both of them turned to look at him one face showing hope, the other frowning in betrayal.

  “Really?” Briffet asked suddenly distracted from Oween’s objection to her participating in the impending action.

  “Yes. But that means they can die just as readily too,” He said quietly watching her face.

  “Oh.” The girl said somewhat subdued.

  “You two have something going on between you, yes?” He asked carefully, glancing first at Briffet then looking pointedly at Oween who went slightly red and stammered something inarticulate.

  “My father doesn’t approve of Oween.” Briffet said after a moment.

  “He’s was not alone in that opinion!” Arturo commented then regretted making such a disparaging remark at Oween's expense. He had no wish to hurt his new friend's feelings but couldn’t help himself with the conversation getting side-tracked onto Oween's rather dubious recent past. Oween spluttered, trying to come up with an a rebuttal but Arturo continued before Oween could come up with a suitable reply. “Well hopefully we can do some
thing about Oween’s reputation down the way.” He offered cheerily, waving a hand at his offsider but then sobered. “In the meantime however, if she really is a good shot with that thing,” He nodded at the bow in her hand. “We would be silly not to make some sort of use of her skill.”

  “Now, hang on a moment Arturo. I will not let you put her at risk.” Oween stated forcefully. Briffet went to make a comeback to this statement but Arturo held up a hand to stop her.

  “Yes, yes.” Arturo muttered and seeing Briffet had shut her mouth again he waved his hand in a placating manner towards Oween. “But what about as a reserve surprise if needed?” Oween immediately went to protest but Arturo overrode him. “Look. We find some spot up the path where she can be in effective range but still hidden from the bad guys. If things go well then there will be no problem, she stays hidden and none’s the wiser. If things go bad she can provide covering fire for the rest of you escape under. If nothing else, arrows suddenly coming out of nowhere should slow the buggers down giving you all a chance to get away.”

  “It’s still too dangerous. Her father would never forgive me if anything happened to her.” Oween complained.

  Arturo turned to the girl. “How fast can you run?”

  “Faster than him.” She answered with a smile, nodding at Oween.

  “And do you reckon you could outrun a bunch of soldiers? Over a long distance?” He continued watching her response closely.

  Briffet went to make a snap answer then paused a moment appearing to consider things more carefully. “Yes I can.” She answered finally. “Besides I know my way around these parts and they don’t. Or at least not as well.” She turned to Oween. “I’d head up through the gorge and probably lose them in Craghed.” Her tone indicated she was asking for Oween’s agreement or at least acknowledgement of her plan.

  Oween didn’t look happy but nodded reluctantly at Arturo’s questioning look. “All right.” Arturo continued. “Let’s find a place where we can use her as a surprise if needed and leave them none the wiser if we don't have a need of arrows appearing suddenly.” He very carefully did not ask if she had actually used her bow to shoot at people. It was better not to draw green troops thoughts to their lack of experience and possible failings he had learnt from experience. He turned and re-entered the blacksmith’s smithy. “Hey Ceri. Oween and I think we need to move up the path towards where the bad guys are coming from in order to find a better place to fight.” He announced. The two men glanced at each other but nodded in agreement with this plan and gathered up their weapons and gear.

  As they emerged Oween said suddenly “Water!”

  Dryffyd turned and headed for the house. “I’ll get some.” He yelled disappearing inside. He returned shortly with two water skins, one hanging over each shoulder. Oween quickly relieved him of one of them and the whole party moved up the path in a roughly southerly direction which was where Dagobert and his men would be coming from.

  A kilometre or so up the track they came to a junction where the dirt path split. The area was bordered on the east by some scrub which gradually merged into a wood that separated two pieces of somewhat overgrown farmland. Arturo called a halt and asked Oween which path Dagobert would be coming down. Oween indicated the left hand one and he stood and examined the terrain in that direction for a few moments. He considered looking further along the path in the direction Dagobert was coming from but he could not see any other terrain that looked all that appealing up the track ahead of them so with Oween following him around he first pushed into the scrub then looked up the diverging path for short distance before nodding and turning to the others.

  “This should do.” He commented as Oween and he returned to the cleared area where the track forked. Waving at Briffet he pointed off the track. “I want you in that scrub over there young lady.” He motioned towards the scrub. “See if you can get over on the far edge so if you have to run for it you have clear ground alongside that wood to do so while still being provided some cover by the scrub and then the trees.”

  She nodded and raised her eyebrows. “Do you want me to go now?”

  Arturo nodded. “They can’t be too far away so yes, please go and hide now. And only use you’re your bow if you think we really need help. I’d rather the whole thing should be resolved without them even knowing you are there. Alright?”

  She nodded, not all that enthusiastically and headed towards the scrub, leaving him unsure whether she would follow orders or not. The girl pushed into the scrub and at his direction moved further and further back till he was satisfied she was not easily visible from the path. “Can you still shoot from there?” He called. He glanced at Oween who shrugged in agreement now that he was resigned to his girlfriend being involved.

  Briffet stood up and positioned her bow in a shooting position and moved it around a bit looking for clear lines to shoot through the scrub. “I’ll have to clear a couple of these branches.” She answered.

  “Fine, only as much as you have to though. Then stay sitting down out of sight once we spot them coming.”

  “Yes sir.” She replied and began tugging at a branch in front of her.

  Her response made Arturo realise he had dropped into what his wife had called his Command Voice. It was a combination of tone and volume that he unconsciously used when in a command position and was slightly different to his normal speaking voice. He smiled to himself as realised he had started using it automatically with the prospect of immediate combat although in this situation Oween was probably better qualified to be the lead for this primitive form of fighting. But no one had questioned that he was in charge, which was also interesting in itself.

  He studied his companions while they waited. Oween had obviously decided to fit into he role of loyal retainer or even superhero sidekick like one of those fellows on the trivid kids shows his children loved. He could be serious at times, notably with Briffet, but mostly he was irrepressible and prone to a light-hearted approach to any of the strange things his new master might suggest. Ceri was clearly angry over the death of his father and determined to be revenged. His anger was the cold, quiet, variety rather than the loud and profane type, but searing hot none the less. It would be interesting to see if their alliance would last beyond the upcoming fight. Dryffyd appeared to be the yokel he came across as but a loyal yokel and filled the loyal follower role to Ceri almost perfectly. He would do what he was told because Ceri was his master.

  The four men took a position sitting on the slight bank on the right of the path and waited for Dagobert to show up quietly immersed in their own thoughts and saying little. In the event they had organised Briffet just in time as they had barely got comfortable and shared some of the water before there came the clip clop sound of a horse approaching along the track accompanied by the jingling of accoutrements as the animal neared the spot where they waited, They all tensed as the horse appeared around the bend about two hundred metres up the path where the was a slight rise hiding those on the other side. Showtime! Arturo thought as down the track came a mounted warrior, followed by a further seven men on foot all apparently armed and ready for a fight.

  As the enemy approached Arturo studied the mounted man carefully. He was big, at least two metres, and solid, clearly being heavier than either Oween or Ceri. He was wearing a coat of metal rings, a thick woollen shirt under that and cloth trousers. His feet were hidden by boots of light brown colour made of the skin of some animal. Surprisingly his feet were not in stirrups. Arturo remembered the special cavalry guard maintained on the planet Galadan for ceremonial purposes although the planet was now one of the more advanced in the Federation. The local government their maintained them as a reminder of their past during the dark centuries after the fall of the Empire when they had fallen back to an almost pre industrial technology level for a period. He had had to endure a parade on that planet at one stage when the ship he was on as a Lieutenant had put in there for some needed maintenance.

  He had seen and read of horse
s and cavalry in history books but they had not been part of the imported fauna on his own world so the cavalry parade had held a certain novelty value for a history buff. The fact that the man in front of him was not using stirrups was a puzzle he had no ready answer for as it obviously meant the rider was not as stable in the saddle as man with stirrups would be. Nor did he have time ask Oween about it. He needed to concentrate on the impending combat rather than be side tracked by the question of stirrups.

  The man’s head was protected by a helmet of iron with cheek pieces tied together by cord that was knotted under his chin. He carried a spear in his right hand and held the reins in his left. There appeared to be a shield strapped to horse as well. Behind him the men varied in equipment. The lead man was another big fellow who wore a similar but plainer helmet, a corset of the iron ring armour, a different but just as thick undercoat and similar pants and boots. He carried a spear and a large oval shield bearing a red field with a white star like design in the centre. Two of the others had similar equipment although instead of the metal ring armour their armour appeared to be composed of many small plates sown onto a fabric base or leather base. It was hard to determine what the material was at this distance. Exactly what the plates were made of Arturo couldn’t immediately determine but guessed iron although it was difficult to tell as both sets were a rusty colour, whether by negligence or because they were painted that colour.

 

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