by Terry Mixon
Its surface was polished from use, and the wood almost glowed under the protective coating that the man had applied often to keep it pristine. The length of the short bow was etched with all kinds of detailed patterns. They were very similar to something that she’d seen in the library on the destroyer. Something called Celtic knotwork. It was simply gorgeous.
The weapon was obviously made to be used from horseback because of its short length. That had the added benefit of reducing the pull on the string to the point where she could use it. The arrows the man carried were a bit thicker than she was used to shooting in her youth, and the heads had wide, razor-sharp blades of metal that would cause great wounds, likely killing the targets quickly.
The challenge would come when she needed to use it. With only one eye, her aim would be put to the ultimate test. Thankfully, she still had her dominant eye, so it wouldn’t be impossible.
Julia stripped the man before dressing in his clothes, which was a disgusting and gross thing that she wished she didn’t have to do. Then she put his armor on over them. At least she was able to keep her skinsuit on underneath everything, so it felt like a layer of mental insulation from wearing a dead man’s things.
The man had died of a neck wound, so even though his armor was stained in blood, it wasn’t damaged in a way that would stand out to anyone that saw her. At least until they got close enough to see her clearly. Or smell her. Ugh.
She took a few minutes to wash off the blood with water salvaged from the dead. She’d need to take enough to survive on, and some food as well, when she departed. One more thing added to her mental checklist.
That done, she pulled the man’s sword from its sheath, once she had it belted on. It was almost as much a work of art as his bow. The blade was made of brightly polished steel. The wavy marks of folded metal were vaguely familiar to her. Something called Damascus? That sounded right.
Her brother had an interest in knives and had raved on about this kind of weapon, telling his very disinterested sister all about it in excruciating detail. It had bored her to tears, but she was now grateful that she had any frame of reference at all.
The man also had a pair of long daggers of the same metal. Based on the mark at the base of the blades, the weapons were probably forged by the same smith.
She took them all. They were no use to the dead man, but they might make the difference between her life or death. She hoped the dead man would have approved.
Not that she had a lick of skill with either weapon. Their excellence wouldn’t save her if she fumbled when she had to use them.
Julia moved back to the horde raider that she’d killed and recovered Kelsey’s swords. She’d strap them to the horse and use them if push came to shove. They might make up for some of her lack of training. No matter how good other blades were, one strike from a hull metal blade with an almost monomolecular edge would shear it off.
Kelsey would want them back whenever she caught up with her. That was fine. The other woman would be far deadlier with them. In the meanwhile, she’d use them.
Once she had all her newly acquired weapons in place, she gathered every bit of food and water she could find. Running out of either while trying to cross the plains would be a recipe for death, and she had no idea how many people she was going to be chasing.
She also found a plasma grenade on a dead marine. It was Major Scala, she thought, though with the damage to his face, it was hard to say.
The weapon might not work, but she took it anyway.
All that done, she mounted the captured warhorse and turned him in the direction that the horde had ridden away in. He was surprisingly willing to have her as a rider. The other man must’ve been a jerk to him, too.
The tracks were already diverging as she left the scene of the battle, so she suspected that the horde warriors might’ve split apart to cover more ground. She’d know for sure once she got closer to them.
Her best bet for survival would be to avoid contact altogether until she’d caught up with them. If she could skirt the groups ahead of her, she could figure out where the prisoners were, and perhaps find a way to release them.
She was their ace in the hole, a gambling reference she actually understood. Without the horde expecting any survivors, they’d be focused on their prisoners. With any luck at all, she’d make them deeply regret that oversight.
Julia put her heels to the horse’s flanks and set off in pursuit of the others. It was time to try and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
25
By the time they’d stopped for the evening, Talbot was exhausted and sore all over again. His lack of riding skills was magnified by the fact that he couldn’t even move around on his saddle. His captors also didn’t appear to be the kind of people that liked to give breaks, so his ass was a mixture of lead and pain. Much worse now that his medical nanites were down.
Four warriors came to untie him, two holding swords, while a third covered him with a bow from a different angle. The fourth person used a knife to cut the rope binding his legs and hands before gesturing for him to dismount.
Talbot barely managed to get off the horse without falling over.
His captors almost dragged him over to a moderately secluded place and allowed him to use the bathroom. One of them poured water over his hands and handed him a small sliver of soap to clean up.
The lack of toilet paper was somewhat disturbing, but they had a coarse cloth that they dropped into a bag when he’d finished his business. Then they bound his hands tightly behind his back again.
The rest of the marauders were setting up camp and guarding the remainder of the prisoners. All of the horses were picketed off to the left, several fire pits were being dug, and people were gathering wood from the scraggly trees around the area.
One of the marauders sat in a folding chair, watching Talbot. She was dressed in armor like the rest, her helmet set off to the side of her chair next to her sheathed sword.
His captors dragged him before her, forced him to his knees, and stepped back. He didn’t look, but he was certain they were all covering him with weapons as the woman examined him.
“So, you are one of those that serve the sky machines,” she said, her voice low and melodic. Her tone was one of cold fury.
“No,” Talbot said firmly. “We’re not. We were fighting them when we came to Terra. They destroyed our ship in orbit. We’re no allies of the machines.”
The woman threw her head back and laughed mockingly. “If only you knew how many people just like you said the exact same thing, or so the histories say. But that all changed when we put them to the question. The truth came out then.
“I don’t know why you’ve come back to Terra after so long, but you’ll meet the same fate as your predecessors. First, though, you’re going to tell us everything that you know about what the computers intend.”
“I don’t suppose there’s anything I could say that would change your mind?” Talbot asked sadly.
“No. I’ve determined that you’re most likely the leader of this particular expedition. You seem to be the strongest warrior, and you were captured inside forbidden armor. That makes you someone that knows much about what the machines intend.
“My associates at the capital are going to ask you many questions. It would go easier on you if you cooperated. In that spirit, I’ll give you the opportunity to save your people some pain. Why are you here, why did you bring those ships from the sky, and why did you crash them so that you couldn’t leave again?”
Talbot snorted mirthlessly. “The crash was unintentional. The last ship failed right before landing. If things had gone according to plan, we’d have gotten to the ground without the machines—or you—knowing that we were here at all.”
The woman made a face that showed she didn’t believe a word he’d just said. “You tell a fanciful tale, but it will not save you in the end. Do you know how the horde questions recalcitrant prisoners? Would you like a demonstration?”
&
nbsp; Talbot’s stomach clenched at that, but he stood firm. Well, knelt firm. “No.”
The woman chuckled darkly. “Understandable, though I still think you deserve to know what awaits you. Observe the fire off to our left.”
One of the warriors there held up an iron bar whose handle was thickly wrapped in leather. He stuck one end in the fire and grinned at them.
Talbot’s skin grew cold. That didn’t look good at all.
“We use hot pokers to convince you to tell us what we want to know,” the woman said conversationally. “Even the bravest warriors break after a while. It doesn’t matter how long you lie to us, eventually you’ll tell us what we want to know, or you’ll die screaming under the question. Frankly, either one of those outcomes is satisfying.
“It’s our tradition, if you will, to start with those who are not warriors to convince the warriors to speak. You’d be surprised how many strong men and women break when seeing those they’re supposed to protect being tortured. Though I have a different idea.
“Perhaps I’ll start with the blonde that caused us so much trouble. We found her in armor standing over you, so I think she cares for you. How much do you care for her? Will you save her from that fate? Or will you watch her scream until she dies?”
It took every bit of Talbot’s will to keep his expression blank. He wanted to snarl, leap to his feet, and attack the woman, but he couldn’t do that. They’d know for sure how important Kelsey was to him then. Not that they didn’t already know.
The woman sat there letting the silence drag on as the sun touched the horizon behind her. She seemed content to stay that way until the sun had completely set, then she rose to her feet and stepped over to Talbot.
She leaned close and smiled darkly. “I will take great pleasure in conducting the questioning once we return to the city,” she said in a low, throaty voice. “I will start with the woman, and then I’ll move on to the weakest among you. You won’t feel the heat of the poker until all of your friends are dead, warrior. Will you break when you see those under your care screaming in agony?”
Talbot tried to headbutt the woman, but she hopped back and laughed as her men began beating him. With his hands tied behind his back, he was helpless to resist as they pummeled him into unconsciousness.
Julia rode in the direction that the horde had taken when they’d left the area. She had no idea how many people were ahead of her, or even which subgroup contained people she was looking for. And she was going to have to look through subgroups, because the horde force had definitely split into different parties.
Unsure of how to proceed, she stopped for a moment to consider her options. She had no skill in tracking, and each of the subgroups left what looked to her like identical sets of prints. While she had a lot of riding experience, telling different sets of hoofprints apart was something she wasn’t knowledgeable at.
Yet, if she was going to find her friends, she was going to have to locate the appropriate group and follow them. She was going to have one chance at this, and she needed to make certain she did the very smartest things she could. This wasn’t the time to go running off killing people. She had to think this through and act cautiously.
The answer, when it finally came to her, seemed blindingly obvious in retrospect. The cargo horses were heavily laden, and thus their prints were deep. Those who were riding regular mounts without that kind of load tended to move faster than the cargo horses, so their strides were longer. She found one group of tracks that had relatively light hoofprints, yet the distance between prints was short, as though the horses were moving slowly.
While that certainly didn’t mean that she’d found the group with her friends, this at least gave her a logical starting point.
It was impossible for her to judge just how many riders there were, but the interior group had a few different sets of markings on their shoes. These were obviously beaten metal, and there were some differences in the shaping and texture on them. That led her to believe that there were at least six people in the center of this group, though there might be twice that many. Again, she had no way of knowing for certain.
The surrounding group seemed significantly larger than many of the other sets of tracks she’d found. To her mind, that meant that it was far more likely that this was a prisoner convoy. That meant she was likely following the people that she most wanted to find.
Julia got back on her horse and started after the group. She rode cautiously, because she wasn’t sure if they’d leave someone riding behind as an early-warning system. If it was her, that’s what she’d do.
Still, there’d been the one man left behind to go over the site of the battle. That meant they’d expect at least one person to follow along behind them. Since she was dressed in similar armor and riding one of their horses, it was likely that they’d initially believe she was him.
If someone came too close though, the game would be up. She probably didn’t look exactly like their comrades and didn’t know enough about them to spot what she might have wrong on the armor and such. She also didn’t know their idioms, so any kind of conversation would likely give her away.
The worst thing that could happen was if a group of horsemen approached her. If any of them stayed at a distance with bows trained on her, she was screwed. If there were only two people close in, she might be able to cut one down by surprise and then deal with the other one, but even that was chancy.
She didn’t have her Marine Raider augmentation to help her win this fight, so stealth was a much better option than fighting. She had Kelsey’s swords, but those would be a one-trick pony. She might kill a single warrior by surprise and might even beat a second. Three? She’d be a dead woman.
To her relief, she didn’t see anyone as she traveled. She didn’t rush, but she didn’t dawdle either. She had some distance to make up. They’d have to stop for the night, and that would give her a chance to see if she was after the right group.
If so, and if she could get to them while the camp was quiet, it was possible that she could free one of the warriors. Her search of the battle site hadn’t shown any of the senior people, so if she could find Kelsey or Talbot, that would be ideal.
One of the advantages that she had was skill with a bow. Nothing like the one she’d captured, but she’d grown to love shooting the bow while growing up and still had a modicum of skill with one. If she had to use a weapon, she’d be much more comfortable using her new ranged weapon.
If she could get to Kelsey and back her up with a bow, perhaps the woman’s husband could take the other sword, and the two of them could cut the rest free.
It was almost dark when she finally spotted something promising. There were wisps of smoke rising from just over a small rise ahead of her. That probably meant that there was a campsite somewhere on the other side.
If so, they probably had watchers out. They wouldn’t want to be surprised in the middle of the night. She had to approach carefully and cautiously, so as not to alert them to her presence.
Julia hobbled her horse behind another small rise so that no observers would see him. She’d have to sneak up on foot once the sun had fully set.
They wouldn’t have night vision goggles, so they wouldn’t be able to see her coming, so long as she didn’t make a lot of noise or do something that caused them to spot her. These guards would probably think they were in a relatively safe place.
After all, they’d killed the group that they’d been after, she thought bitterly They were on their way home all safe and sound.
In actuality, the best time to move would be sometime early in the morning, but she needed to scout. Insertion and extraction would take time. She had to assume that this was the wrong group, simply because if she assumed it was the right one and made a mistake, then she was screwed.
She found a good place to wait and spent the next several hours trying to think about what she needed to do. She ate and drank from her supplies but didn’t dare take a nap because she was afraid that h
er exhaustion would overwhelm her.
Without her augmentation, Julia’s body wasn’t nearly as resilient, and without her implants, her mind was already clouded with fatigue. It was like she’d been before the Pale Ones forced the change on her and she was having trouble readjusting.
When she finally decided that she’d waited as long as she needed to, she made one final check to be certain that nothing on her armor would make noise. She then circled around to approach the campsite from a different angle.
If she were the guards, she’d be watching along their backtrack, so her best angle of insertion would be from somewhere off to the side of that. This was a plain, so there was high grass and scrub brush that she could use for cover, but she had to move slowly because she didn’t dare cause any motion or noise that would attract their attention.
That meant getting into position to see what was inside the camp took far longer than she expected. Luckily for her, she’d approached near where they were keeping the horses. So long as she didn’t spook them, their soft movements and noise would cover hers. With that in mind, she kept enough space so that they didn’t react to her.
It only took a few minutes to figure out that she was in the right place. There were a few banked fires that had enemy soldiers sleeping around them. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but she thought there were perhaps forty people sleeping there.
Some distance away from the fires, sleeping in the chill air, were the people that she was looking for. Their captors had their arms and legs tied, and they were under guard. Two men with bows stood watching from a safe distance, each on opposite sides of the group. She almost missed the second one in the dark, but he coughed and drew her attention to where he was standing near a scrub tree.
His presence made her stop and look around more closely. She couldn’t afford to miss any other guards in the dark. Even one left alive would raise the alarm.