The Far Side

by Wylie, Gina Marie

  Ezra had earlier demonstrated the Tengri thunder rods, and neither Captain Dumi nor Collum made an issue of the fact that he didn’t demonstrate his own weapon.

  “We could use the old rookery as a new base,” Captain Dumi mused. “It sounds like an altogether better location.”

  Collum stood listening, thinking about other things. He wasn’t entirely sure what Ezra meant when he said that he and the two women came from the rookery -- it still didn’t make much sense. How could you fold the world so that two points so very far away were so close that you could step from one to the next? Arvala had some scholars, but he was sure that they were going to be in the same sort of quandary that he was. Strangers suddenly appearing in their rear might not have as happy an outcome the second time as it had the first.

  And he would like to think they’d been careful enough to leave the rookery so that the Tengri weren’t likely to find it, but that possibility couldn’t be discounted either. And if part of a patrol occupied it, they would be hard put not to reveal their presence unless commanded by some level-headed lieutenant or a senior sergeant. The problem with men commanded by Flaner and Seros was that they were rarely level-headed and frequently were just plain stupid.

  Ezra, Kris, and Andie were treasures, just as they were. Their weapons were terrible, and the three of them could probably hurt quite a few men, unless they were taken by complete surprise. Like Melek, he had no stomach for such a betrayal.

  And of course, there was the fact that he was quite sure they hadn’t made all the food they’d brought with them, the clothes they wore, or the weapons they carried. He’d tried to talk to Andie about making weapons like theirs but even as well as Ezra had learned their language in the short time they had, it had been difficult to understand.

  The metal used in the thunder rod was steel, stronger than a sword, but less brittle. Instead of arrows, they had little devices that consisted of a small container, filled with some black grains of something and another lump of metal to hold it in. According to Ezra, a small fire was kindled at the base of the container, and the powder burned very fast. The gas was like the string of a bow, propelling the metal plug very rapidly, the metal plug being like the tip of an arrow.

  Andie didn’t know how to make the steel for the thunder rod, the metal for the projectile, the powder that burned fast, or the kindling for the fire. It could be that they were lying, not wanting to give possible enemies the secrets of their weapons, but he’d handled Ezra’s thunder rod. The metal was dark, unlike any he’d ever seen. There were no hammer marks as a smith would leave on a blade and Andie had said that the metal was poured hot into molds.

  Even the wooden parts of the thunder rod were finished finer than any master carpenter could do without spending an inordinate amount of time at it. And he’d convinced Andie to let him see the smaller version of the weapon she carried. It was so tiny! He couldn’t begin to understand how even the most meticulously careful smith could produce things so small!

  Yet, it was another concern when they had been so willing to explain how the thunder rods of the Tengri worked. Twice Ezra had shown Collum and Melek how the weapons were fired -- they were slow, clumsy, and not nearly as accurate as Ezra’s weapon.

  Ezra, Kris, and Andie weren’t people he’d like to have as enemies. Moreover, their people were, he was sure, going to try to rescue them. He didn’t understand more than an enemy had stranded them here, and that there were others from their home who would work to get them back. Making enemies of Ezra and the others would be stupid; making enemies of their people could well mean a war fought with men who would be enraged at the treachery to the women.

  It was simple, really, when you thought about it. Ezra had killed the dralka when it was a long, long ways away. The thought of hundreds or thousands of men like him shooting thunder rods like his at the King’s army was unpleasant in the extreme. And that brought to mind that the Tengri had thunder rods that weren’t as good as Ezra’s. Still, it didn’t bear thinking about what many Tengri could do shooting at the men of Arvala with their own thunder rods. Barring some sort of miracle, all the Arvalans would be dead before the Tengri got within bow shot, much less within the reach of their swords.

  He sniffed, realizing something else. Ezra, Kris and Andie didn’t carry swords. Knives, of course. There are a lot of uses for a knife. He’d never seen any knives like Ezra’s before and without doubt it would be wicked to fight against. The young women carried knives that were smaller, but no less dangerous. Why didn’t they carry swords? They had thunder rods to take care of killing men at any distance from arm’s length to half a mile.

  His head ached. The more he thought about this, the worse it got. Would Ezra and the other two have their best weapons? Probably the best hand weapons, at least. But back at Arvala and in other cities there were bows that were far stronger than a single man could pull; bows that shot an arrow a single man couldn’t hold. There were also devices that threw rocks a long, long ways -- almost as far as Ezra’s weapon could hit. Almost.

  “You are silent, Sachem,” Captain Dumi said cautiously.

  “I am Sachem of the Chain Breakers, but only an old sergeant in the King’s Army. You command here, Captain. That said, there are a number of things you need to know, and it is going to take a while to explain. As you’ve been told, you are not going to be able to accept everything at once, but you have to keep an open mind.

  “Melek is as good a man with a bow as I’ve seen, Captain. He killed a dralka on the trip south, a good clean shot. Yet, he had to let the dralka get within a few hundred feet to be sure of hitting his target. Ezra, the male stranger, killed his first one at three hundred paces -- very long bow shot, and a distance where you couldn’t be certain of hitting what you were aiming at, no matter how good you are.

  “Granted, the second one was much closer, but Captain, it was coming right towards us. There was no way to be sure who it had picked to attack, but it was in the final seconds of an attack. Ezra stood his ground as calmly as the bravest of men -- and killed it. Then he looked up, saw the other heading away, and casually lifted his weapon and killed it as well -- but by then it was a half mile away, Captain.”

  “What kind of a bow shoots accurately at that range?” Captain Dumi asked.

  “It wasn’t a bow he showed us earlier. Come, Captain, I will show you what I killed the leader of the Tengri with and then I will show you what that man intended to kill me with.”

  He went to his pack and pulled out the weapon Andie had fashioned and held it up. “The short one, Andie, made this for us. First, she made one from the leavings of the midden heap in the rookery. It worked well enough to show me what it could do. Sergeant Melek commanded me to see if I could make a better one, with Andie’s help. This is the result.”

  He cocked it, turned, and fired into a wagon a hundred yards away. The sound drew everyone’s attention, and as before, the men from the observation post ran to the wagon to show off what Collum had done.

  Collum had Captain Dumi examine the bolt. The wood of the wagon side was an inch-thick plank and the bolt had pierced it, and buried itself in a wooden crate of field rations. You couldn’t move it, of course.

  “As you can see, it hits much harder than an arrow -- hard enough to kill a dralka -- perhaps hard enough to kill a dralha.”

  Captain Dumi whistled in awe. “And she made this from leavings in the midden heap?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “What sort of person could do that?”

  Collum laughed. “I watched her make this. I helped her with it. An old sword blade, some steel wire from an old sword hilt, a piece of bow stock cut in half and shaved differently than a bow. And, Captain, I am already a better shot with this than I ever was with a bow. I could take my last bolt out to where I just fired from and put it a finger-width from this one.”

  “How could that be?”

  “Well, Andie told me, Captain. An arrow takes a while to get to its target. It curve
s down -- as all men know. This bolt goes very fast, and doesn’t have time to curl down. In short, it goes where you point it.”

  “So what would you have me do?”

  “Go carefully around Ezra, Kris, and Andie. Their weapons were not hatched from one brain, and there are undoubtedly others where they came from. We cannot afford such enemies.”

  “And we should be afraid of them?”

  “Captain!” Collum exclaimed. “We put to death the enemies from the East, or at least that is what we are commanded. Do we do that because we are confident of our eventual victory? Or fearing another defeat?”

  “We do it to measure some of the blood they owe us.”

  Collum shook his head. “Of course there is that, but you and I both know the order to kill them is more from fear than confidence.” He waved at the three strangers.

  “We have to remember that these three have family, friends, and a king. Can we afford to make such enemies? I do not counsel cowardice, but simple wariness. If they come to put chains on us, I, like all men, will fight them. But they are as opposed to chains as we are. In fact, Ezra says that it has been barely more than a hundred and fifty years since they broke the chains that held people in bondage where they are from.”

  Captain Dumi was silent for a moment. “I have no trouble with that which you wish, Sachem. Except... General Flaner is of the Dralka, as is Captain Seros. They wish to expand into the Two Rivers area, where there are many rookeries. They maintain that if we clean them up, dralka attacks on Arvala will cease.”

  “And you know the Chain Breakers’ opinion,” Collum told him. “The dralka will be able to come from any other direction, making life a continual risk. We will spend fifty years and secure an area smaller than East Finger – and not a tenth as good. It isn’t a good idea. At some point in time, certainly, but not now.”

  “Aye, and there is still much land to expand into, in all of the Fingers,” Captain Dumi added. “More than one man from my force has said that this storm was like the great storms from before the rains failed -- presaging a change. That perhaps East Finger will once again be able to support more people than it does now – which is virtually none.”

  The captain growled, “As all men know, the Dralka wish to expand their force at the expense of the others. They are the ones who most often talk of ‘modernizing’ our oaths.”

  Collum nodded. “Captain, I do not know for sure, but it is my belief that if the Dralka continue their growth unchecked, soon the length of the walls will be such that we will have to put every man available to prevent breaches. If that were to happen -- we would never be able to expand again.”

  “Aye, we Wall Guards have spoken of this amongst ourselves. We object -- but what can we do? It is popular to make inroads against the beasts. Already they speak of how we fail in our oaths to kill dralka, preferring garrison duty.”

  “As they claim that we don’t need but a tithe of the Sea Fighters we once did, just as they claim that the other fighting orders aren’t needed these days. Just the Dralka and Wall Guards to hold the new territory.”

  “All of the fighting orders shouldn’t fall under the control of one order,” Dumi said firmly.

  “Oh, surely. But already we see what they plan! This is going to be a critical moment in our history, Captain Dumi! It isn’t just the Chain Breakers who are at risk here -- it is all of the fighting orders.”

  * * *

  Ezra nudged Kris who saw that Melek, Collum and the new officer, Captain Dumi, were approaching. Andie looked up and she smiled. “A council of war! Cool! I’ve never been to one before!”

  Ezra looked at her. “The choices these guys face are all bad, Andie. They don’t have a clear superiority over the Tengri. You don’t go home though, with a report that you didn’t fight, given a fifty-fifty shot at victory. Be aware if they take the chance, and if we’re there with them, and if they lose -- we’re dead.”

  “So, we make sure they don’t lose.”

  He laughed.

  Melek greeted them in the name of the new captain. Kris wished the man’s name was pronounced with a long “U” rather than a short one, making it sound entirely too much like an unfortunate English word. Eventually Ezra turned to Andie and Kris.

  “Andie, Captain Dumi has some questions,” Ezra said, after listening to them for a few minutes. “Is it true that you can make more crossbows if you had more sword blades?”

  “Sure. But ask Collum how many bolts he has and if he can find more,” Andie told him.

  Ezra whistled. “Yeah, that old bitch on the battlefield: logistics. Just when you think you can ignore her, she bites you in the ass!”

  Ezra translated and clearly the answer didn’t please Melek’s superiors. Four quarrels, Ezra told them, and he had no way to make more, not here.

  Captain Dumi said something, and Collum replied at length. Again after listening to them, Ezra spoke to Kris and Andie. “He asks why not use arrows, and Collum says that he has tried that, and he says that the wire split the arrow lengthwise.”

  Andie grimaced. “At least he didn’t get hurt, which is good. That sort of thing is dangerous.” She thought for a moment. “Ask if they have any copper or brass -- not bronze.”

  It took a while to get the meaning across, and one of the privates fetched a small copper object that looked a miniature bell.

  “How many of these do they have?” Andie asked.

  “About a hundred,” Ezra translated the response. “But they aren’t very happy about it. They keep using a word I haven’t heard before.”

  “No more? I can do something with these, put a cap on the ass end of the arrows, to spread the impact of the acceleration more, but a hundred isn’t going to cut it.”

  “Why not?” Kris asked.

  “Because a hundred divided by fifty is two. I don’t think many of these guys would be comfortable going into a fight with just two shots. We need at least a thousand if they want to arm everyone with crossbows -- not to mention we need to know how many spare swords they have.”

  The answer to that was that were six spare swords. “Okay, six,” Andie told Ezra. “I can make those up tomorrow if they want; the bottleneck will be getting the wooden parts shaped.”

  “If it took you a day by yourself,” Ezra asked, curious, “why would you think they could make a half dozen in a day?”

  “Henry Ford! Henry Ford! You are needed on the Far Side!” Andie said sarcastically. “We teach them assembly line strategies. One guy we show how to make the wire, another we show how to wrap the blade in place, another guy does the cocking mechanism. Give me a half dozen men, and I’ll have a regular assembly line.”

  Ezra laughed and told them. “Well, Captain Dumi isn’t quite sure he believes you, but he says with six more crossbows and a hundred bolts, he’s happy. That’s a few more than fifteen bolts apiece, and then they’d still have their regular bows. They seem more concerned about those copper bells, though.”

  “I take it then, that it’s like you said,” Kris asked, ignoring the concern. “They are planning on fighting.”

  Ezra looked at Melek and showed no expression on his face. “Military officers have to show some degree of aggression or they get the boot. To have a fifty-fifty shot at the bad guys and not take it -- the man can’t avoid the fight, Kris.”

  Melek translated for Ezra, and after a few minutes Ezra ran his hand over his face before turning to the two girls.

  “It’s the best plan, I guess. They’ll leave five men here and most of the crossbows, except Collum’s, with you two and Chaba. The rest of us go south. He’s not sure if what Melek and Collum say is true about how effective our weapons are, but if they are right, he’s correct to assume that I’ll be able to kill half or more of their enemies, all by myself. If they break and run, which most armies would do after fifty percent casualties, he’s confident of final victory. He knows he’s going to lose at least twenty men, killed or wounded -- and that’s if everything goes as planned.”<
br />
  “We can’t be separated,” Kris said, a little desperate.

  Ezra nodded. “Yeah, I told him the same thing. Except he’s got his honor and his duty to think about -- in this case I think it’s duty ahead of honor. He wouldn’t be a good officer if he didn’t pick the best option available for himself and his men. That means that I have to go south with them. Kris, Andie... I just can’t take you with me. It’ll be a roll of the dice, no matter what we do. Yeah, the odds are on our side, but people make 1D20 saving rolls all the time in Dungeons and Dragons.”

  Andie stuck her tongue out at him. “You can have your pistol back. I’ll make myself a crossbow, if I have to tackle one of their soldiers and steal his sword.”

  “Andie, if I get close enough for them to shoot me, the plan is busted. A pistol might help me for a few minutes, but those 9mms have just fifteen-round magazines. My own weapon is in better shape, but not for something like this. I have exactly three mags, and about a quarter of the rounds are gone from one.”

  “What kind of rifle do you have?”

  He laughed. “I thought you would have recognized it... You like SG-1 so much...”

  “Pardon?”

  “The basic weapon is an FN90, a Belgian light machine pistol. That’s P90 on SG-1 -- they use the Belgian parachute version of the weapon. This is an S90, their idea of a ‘Sport’ version. They sell it as a semi-automatic rifle, tongue in cheek. The kit to make it identical to the military version is about a hundred bucks, and they are freely available.”

  “So, how many rounds in a magazine?” Andie asked.

  “What, you think this isn’t SG-1, where they never run out? For your information they come in thirty-two and fifty-round magazines. I have three of the fifty-round variety.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Andie said heatedly.

  It was Kris who spoke next. “Andie, we’ve been here for God knows how long. It’s been three weeks, Andie, and I can’t think that the odds of our being able to go home are getting better with each passing day. We have to accept at some point that this is it -- we’re not going to leave.