by RW Krpoun
“That is pretty sweet,” Jeff admitted.
“Yeah, I thought so. They didn’t have any swords such as you use, so I had to improvise.” Shad dumped out a sack containing numerous vials that looked like half-length test tubes capped with porcelain stoppers. “Thirty potions, grabbed on the run. I’m not sure what they do, but I expect they will be useful sometime; they had an entire rack of them.”
“So the vault was set up to equip a group?” Fred asked while stroking his new club lovingly.
“Yeah. Melee and missile weapons, racks of these potions, useful items like Jeff’s shell, silver ingots…the whole nine yards. I had a helluva time choosing what to grab. I wasn’t prepared for that sort of thing, and I didn’t have much time. I didn’t want to grab at random and end up with something that wasn’t useful, and I didn’t want to take anything we couldn’t openly use, like a jeweled bow. The point is, I think the guys that hid the Lance created a stash point so whoever went to recover it was ready for trouble.”
“How big a group do you think they were planning for?” Derek was already removing the hilts from his old weapons.
“Hard to say; the items weren’t in equal numbers, and I didn’t have a lot of time to evaluate. I think they just stashed what they had, maybe like a will sort of thing, like where when you die you leave your best thing to the stash.”
“They must have been a lot more user-friendly than Midori,” Jeff observed.
“That wouldn’t be hard.”
“So my point is that the military spends mega-bucks to make sure everything is low to the ground, from infantry tactics to tank profiles. With that in mind a thirty-foot-tall battle mech makes no sense. Tanks hull-down behind cover would shoot it to pieces,” Shad pointed out.
“But being humanoid the mech could also squat to go hull down, or use buildings as vertical cover,” Derek countered. “And when they stand up they have a considerable field of view.”
“The ground-pressure is what trips me up,” Jeff pointed out. “You stack armor, weapons, and power plant that high, that thing should sink into solid rock even if the legs could function.”
“That is a real challenge,” Derek admitted. “I figure you would need some sort of a counter-gravity generator on board to reduce the felt weight.”
“If you have counter-grav, why mess around with legs?” Shad asked. “CG tanks would make more sense.”
“It is a hard sell,” the Radio Shack manager admitted. “But you have to admit Mechwarrior is a cool game.”
“It is until you start thinking about natives lurking in the bushes with AGTM launchers,” Shad nodded. “You notice they never addressed reloads in the game? You would need a reloader mech able to fast-reload the fire support mechs. And a recovery mech to transport damaged or unserviceable mechs.”
“And personnel carriers so that infantry can keep up with the mechs,” Jeff pointed out. “Otherwise dense or built-up terrain will be suicide for mechs.”
“What is that?” Fred pointed ahead.
“Clouds,” Jeff shrugged. “Looks like a cold front rolling in from north-northwest.”
“Except the wind is from the east.”
That had their full attention. “We’re two day’s out from Boam, give or take,” Shad mused, holding up his hand as a reference to gauge the distance. “How far out do you think that cloud line is from us?”
“About two days,” Jeff sighed. “Three if we’re lucky.”
“How much you want to bet the World Stone is on the move?” Derek shook his head.
“We need to give it a wide berth,” Fred stroked his goatee. “I’m low on charms.”
“I’m about out of coins,” Shad agreed. “We’ll swing further south and pick up the pace. If the Stone is on the move do we have time for the Lance, or do we just off two more Death Lords and head home?”
“Depends on how fast it moves,” Derek pointed out.
“Suddenly being heroes here seems a lot dumber than we usually are,” Jeff observed glumly.
The Black Talons pushed harder and longer as the temperature eased over freezing for a longer period each day, and on the ninth day after the raid on the temple they were within five miles of Litam, travel-worn and weary.
“You know, if the Dragon took Litam we’re screwed,” Jeff pointed out, poking Four in the side and making the girl smile. The children were riding Durbin, who wasn’t complaining as the food that had made up the bulk his load was gone.
“That’s the Dragon’s problem,” Shad said with his usual bravado. “But if they do hold the city I’ll be very surprised.”
“No traffic, a lot of empty farms,” Fred pointed out. “That could go either way in terms of proof.”
“At least we left the clouds behind,” Derek sighed. “If the Stone is on the move, it isn’t moving very quickly.”
“Quick enough. No telling how far away the Lance is,” Jeff poked Two, making him giggle.
“I figure it must be fairly close. When you are dealing with artifacts distance is no barrier to detection. It should be positioned close enough to the Nightland to be brought into play before the World Stone hits critical mass,” Derek pointed out. “The people who set this up gave it some careful thought.”
“They were careful to ensure it didn’t happen in their lifetime, that’s for certain,” Shad said sourly. “Riders coming.”
“Cavalry patrol led by a Samurai,” Derek observed. “Looks like the Dragon didn’t win.”
“That is how it goes. Jeff, you want to do the talking?”
“What is our excuse for being out and about in winter?”
“Derek, what would a Ronin and his entourage be up to?”
“Escorting a rich man to Boam. Manners would prevent too many questions.”
“They just had a revolution so manners might not have as much impact as usual,” Shad warned.
“I can handle of it if Jeff botches.”
“You better.”
The patrol was a full Butai: fifteen grim-faced Samurai, a standard-bearer, and a troop commander, all in full armor and unpleasant moods. The troop reined up twenty yards away while the troop commander rode up with a couple escorts; the Black Talons didn’t miss the fact that five Bushi uncased their great bows.
The troop commander, who appeared to be a mix of Asian and Negro, didn’t bother to dismount as he questioned first Jeff, then Derek as the Ronin came forward.
“There’s some boys who have been spilling blood,” Fred muttered. “That armor has been seeing some use lately.”
“I don’t think the Dragon went down easy, but I bet they went nonetheless,” Shad agreed. “We can’t fight our way out of this one.”
Finally the troop command favored Derek with a curt nod and turned his horse to rejoin his troop.
“What was all that about?” Shad asked after the cavalry had trotted past.
“Those were Imperial troops,” Derek shook his head. “Hunting Dragon stragglers and generally scouting. They were more interested in Boam than us or what we were doing.”
“What about Litam?”
“Still standing, despite the Red Dragon’s best efforts. Fighting men are welcome as the Death Lords are on the move, albeit slowly. Some Imperial and clan cavalry has arrived, but the rest and the ground-pounders and artillery are not expected for at least a week.”
“Awful chatty fellow,” Fred observed.
“The Death Lords know exactly what is going on. The Empire is planning on bringing them to battle here, and it isn’t making a secret about it.”
“Great: front seats for the mother of all battles,” Jeff grinned. “Again.”
“I don’t care as long as I get a hot bath, hot food, and a bed. Or futon, even,” Shad shrugged. “Let’s get going.”
Starting a mile from the city they passed severed heads on three-foot poles, each marker twenty feet from the last.
“They redecorated since we were here last,” Jeff observed as the Black Talons passed the poles. �
��Kind of an ‘angry despot’ motif.”
“I’m not sure ‘motif’ is the right word,” Derek objected.
“Big deal. Definitely sends a message.”
“And that message is: ‘we’re pissed and we aren’t afraid to express our emotions in public’,” Shad grinned. “It is good to see people being open and receptive to their feelings.”
“Well, the Red Dragon came out ahead,” Fred snickered, getting groans from the others.
“That was horrible. I was trying to work out something about them taking it in the neck,” Derek sighed. “I didn’t quite make it work.”
“I hope we can get lodging,” Jeff poked One. “Between the destruction and the additional troops beds might be scarce.”
Other than ditches being dug in the frozen soil by chained men under guard the walled city appeared unchanged as the Black Talons approached, Fred and Shad donning their colored caps, but once inside the walls the damage was graphically evident.
“I would say the Dragon didn’t go quietly into the dark,” Shad said thoughtfully as the Talons passed a crew of shackled men and women pulling down a burnt-out shop and loading the debris onto a cart.
“What did they do with the bodies?” Derek asked.
“The guard at the gate said they dunked them in the river and then let them freeze solid. They’re burying them as fast as ditches can be dug, which is not fast.”
“With the Death Lords on the march shouldn’t they burn them?”
“Nah,” Shad shook his head. “Necromancy here isn’t reanimation, it is implanting a sentient force into a skeletal housing, or a form of enchantment upon skeletal remains, and both processes take time.”
“So why are they called necromancers?”
“They still work with dead stuff.”
“Still seems pretty inaccurate.”
“Derek, shut up.”
“Bite me.”
The streets were much less busy than they had been before, and much of the traffic was garrison troops and chain-gangs. The Hiemin and Hanni who were not in chains scuttled briskly about their tasks with their heads down, careful not to look at any military man or shackled Dragon.
“Cheery place,” Fred muttered. “I thought the peasants were beat down before.”
Jeff hailed a passing Kambal, or House retainer, and spoke with the young man for a moment. “OK,” he announced after he rejoined the Talons. “The Sleeping Mockingbird has room and a good reputation. The cavalry are established in a fortified camp outside the city.”
“Why?” Derek asked.
“Patrolling, and hunting the remnants of the Dragon. Supposedly infantry is on the way to beef up the garrison, not that they have a lot of people to watch at the moment.”
“So did you get directions?” Shad rubbed his scar.
“Yeah, it’s not far and it has a bath house.”
“Good. I’m not convinced I’m the only living thing in these clothes.”
The staff of the Sleeping Mockingbird were happy to see a Ronin with hard cash and in short order the Black Talons were enjoying the fruits of civilization. They fetched a tailor for new clothing to replace the travel and battle stained garments of the Texans, and a blacksmith to repair the animals’ shoes.
It was mid-morning before the four gathered at a table in the common room to take on a massive bowl of shrimp fried rice.
“About time you guys showed up,” Jeff shook his head as he filled bowls and passed them out. “I’ve been up for hours.”
“Good for you,” Fred grunted sourly. “I’m off the clock.”
“I’m not sure we should have taken separate rooms,” Derek inhaled the vapor rising off the rice with a happy sigh. “That isn’t customary.
“Screw custom, I’m sick of looking at you guys,” Shad said around a mouthful. “So what did early rising do for the early bird?”
“I checked on the kids and Denki, and they’re fine. Then I started asking question, as befits the loyal retainer of a Ronin who needs a situation.”
“So spill it.”
“The course of fight after we left wasn’t much of a shock, although the Dragon took the news pretty hard. They bled the garrison a bit until the surprise wore off and the troops got their legs under them, and after that it was just one cut short of a massacre. Flintlock muskets and dedication couldn’t stand against professionalism and organization. The garrison stopped them, as we saw, and then rolled them up. The Dragon tried to pull a Stalingrad on them, but they weren’t up to the job. The true believers died and the rest either stacked arms or tried to flee.”
“How many got away?”
“About half that tried, but the cavalry is still hunting them down. If they didn’t cut and run not long after we made it out, they’re screwed. Meanwhile, the Iron Fan survived, and it looks like any Hanni who minded their own business will get promoted up to Hiemin pretty soon, so the Red Dragon did create some sort of indirect social justice. The Samurai and their retainers took a pounding, so there will be a lot of mobility and power-shuffling over the next few weeks.”
“What about the rest of the Empire?” Shad asked.
“Some Dragon activity, but Litam was the epicenter of the revolt. The Death Lords have the World Stone on the move, but it is going about five miles a day so even if they maintain that rate through the muddy days they’re twelve to fourteen days out.”
“Figures we were at ground zero,” the warder shook his head. “OK, let’s take at least five days off for preparation and debauchery. After that we’ll evaluate our situation; I would like to avoid seeing the World Stone up close. Any word on Baum?”
“They hung on after we bagged the Death Lord, only to have the main force hit them a few days later. No survivors.”
Fred and Shad were focused upon restoring their arsenals of charms and coins, so Derek and Jeff took to wandering the city. Boam had gotten couriers through until the end, so the Ronin was able to collect the bounty for the Death Lord they had killed, and to secure an elevation to Hiemin status for Denki and the children. Other than that small errand they simply took in the sights.
Although savagely battered in the short-lived revolt Litam was still a lovely city, and the Iron Fan had the captive rebels working until they dropped to clear away the debris and make what repairs were possible. The shanty town of the Hanni has been largely wiped out by unchecked fires, but those who had not joined the Dragon were being elevated to Hiemin and securing better positions in the labor-poor work force.
This was not to say that Litam was an entirely happy city; garrison patrols and lawkeeper details swaggered through the streets with their blades loose in their scabbards and it was an unwise commoner who raised his or her eyes off the ground as they passed.
Still, the city’s delicate architecture was recovering, and the many graveled gardens still offered the passerby an opportunity to stop and rest his or her spirits amidst the tranquility of raked gravel and manicured dwarf trees. Tea was available at countless tiny shops where one could sip from delicate cups and watch the city pass by, and stronger drink was available for those whose inner being needed fortification.
There was a lingering smell of fire-consumed buildings, but it was overlaid by the odors of a wide variety of cooking, of fresh wood being cut for projects large and small. The air rang with the cries of peddlers, the ring of tools, and the bustle of commerce.
The two brought Denki and the children along, dressed suitably for their new station, and explained as much as they could of the sights and sounds. Jeff was a natural teacher, both by training and inclination, and Derek’s irrepressible enthusiasm and sense of wonder lifted the children’s interest.
What amazed Derek was the seamless blend of influences that he saw in the city and its people. Litam was a medieval Japanese city that had adapted to a different climate and taken on Chinese, Malayan, and even a few European touches without losing its core identity. People of all races interacted without any sense of foreignness, producing
a seamless blend of cultures that still orbited around the core of old Nippon. He wished he had the time and a suitable education to dissect this amazing mix.
Supper on the evening of the fifth day saw all four together for the first time in five days.
“You notice there’s no sushi?” Fred observed as the serving girl put a platter of catfish fillets on the table.
“We’re inland,” Shad shrugged, spooning wheat noodles into his bowl.
“We’ve had shrimp.”
“Brine farms,” Derek explained. “They raise lobster, too.”
“The rice comes from the south,” Jeff added.
“You guys start working for the chamber of commerce?” Shad inquired disinterestedly.
“This is a pretty cool place,” the Ronin insisted.
“As you would know if you ever let the inn,” Jeff added.
“No point in leaving; what they don’t have here they can send for.”
“There is more to this sphere than whores and hot baths.”
“Let me know if you find eighteen-ounce porterhouse steaks. Until then whores, hot baths, and massages will suffice.”
“There is a fascinating culture out there.”
“You said the same thing about Dubai, and you were wrong there, too.”
“Shad’s right about Dubai,” Jeff conceded.
“Whatever.” The Radio Shack manager started eating.
“You guys find a place for Denki and the kids?” Fred mumbled.
“We’re sorting through a couple possibilities. Litam seems the best suited given the local disruption, but I don’t like leaving them in the front lines of the war, either,” Jeff shook his head.
“If we gank the Stone it won’t matter, and if we don’t, well, it probably won’t matter,” Shad shrugged. “Can it be stopped by the locals?”