by Brent Reilly
CHAPTER 25
After sunset Uncle Richard arrived with a few hundred quads and grim news.
"The bitch John mated with is now the center of resistance. She comes from a large family. Many English estate-owners lording it over the Scottish owe their land to her access to the crown. They've been recruiting soldiers and hiring mercenaries. The latest report says they number a couple thousand. If true, they could move against London itself. The king needs every warrior he can get."
"How far away are they?" Billy asked.
"About two hours southwest of here. We don't know if they’ll move tomorrow morning or wait for more men."
"Then we’ll hit them late tonight. Sound asleep is the best time to attack a man or an army. At best we break them, and at worst we give the king more time and fewer enemies."
Richard was not alone in noticing that his twelve-year old nephew issued a command rather than make a suggestion. Few knew he spent the last few years helping destroy the greatest air forces the world has ever seen. Billy's problem was that he looked his age without acting his age. But Richard knew because he used Global Bank to help Billy and his father.
"Oh, I have something for you," Richard said excitedly. He peeled off his backpack and took out a beautifully crafted red suit of armor. "King Richard's grandfather gave it to him when he won the national dueling championship as a teenager, but the king quickly outgrew it. You said you needed a suit, and he thought it may fit." Billy stared open-mouth at the gorgeous suit like most people stare at a ton of stacked gold. "A famous craftsman made it. Took him years and cost a fortune. It has features that minimize burn-through."
"What's the catch?" Billy asked.
"It’ll only fit someone skinny. Dad got thicker when he hit adulthood."
Richard helped Billy put the armor on.
"Oh, I needed this earlier today." Billy walked around, popped up in the air, zigzagged over them, then landed softly. "How can I get thousands of these?"
"We could set up a shop in London. We can recruit the best craftsmen in the world."
"No," Billy replied. "I want one of those new mass-production factories that England has made so famous. Better armor will give us an edge over our enemies. Take one hundred tons to get started.”
Richard, old enough to be his grandfather, had trouble getting used to having a kid for a boss.
"Put up sentries and have someone wake us at midnight," Billy said, walking away. “Susan, please keep an eye on the enemy. Emily, would you help me take off my armor?”
Too horny to sleep, the teenagers took advantage of their privacy. At midnight Billy addressed his troops in the courtyard.
"My cousin Aidian was a busy boy. For weeks, his foundry made steel arrows with heavy metal tips. They are light enough to carry dozens of them; yet, unlike wand blasts, they fall silently from the heavens. We can't leave them here or they may be used against us while we sleep, so I propose we give them back. Tonight. While the enemy sleeps in the open."
Billy blew up a three dimensional image of the enemy campsite.
"Susan recorded this two hours ago. Judging by the dying fires, they probably number a couple thousand. Most are either mercenaries or retainers. The only ones who want to kill King Richard are those related to Prince John's wife. In other words, the rich farts spending this cold night inside the various homes on her estate.
"Here's the plan: from five hundred meters we’ll drop into a controlled fall, spaced ten meters apart, and throw arrows at targets below. When you run out of arrows, start blasting everyone below you. While two-wanders wipe out those inside the buildings, the quads will either defend them or attack the enemy from the air. I’ll lead a team against the most important targets, the duchess and her father.
"If we wipe out the existing owners, it’ll be that much easier for King Richard to reward his most important supporters with their land, so make sure everyone dies. You won’t get their stuff if you let any of them surrender. Victory must be total for it to translate into lasting peace, but don't burn the buildings because you may soon own them. After we’ve won, search every person and room for valuables. Just because we risk our lives doesn't mean we have to do it for free," he said to great cheers. “The difference between rebels and revolutionaries is success. Follow me and we’ll end this insurrection tonight.”
The crowd roared, eager to pump themselves up before killing a bunch of strangers.
Billy pulled the Matriarch aside. "After we remove the threats in the mansion, find the vault. Divide whatever we find equally."
The two-wanders took off first, since quads can easily catch up. Billy left last since he could fly the fastest.
They dropped from a kilometer up. Soon, thousands of steel-tipped short spears sought out enemies. A few hundred meters later the sky thundered with a tremendous volley that smashed the surface below as if the Sun vomited. A firestorm sought out anyone dumb enough to fire back. Everything flammable burned bright. Most stared up in shocked disbelief, unable to comprehend a seemingly supernatural phenomena. Others fled as if the devil himself attacked. The few who shot back died quickly and survivors flew blindly into the woods, often slamming into trees in the dark.
Billy saw an old woman with a wand stick her head out the window. He chopped off her head as he landed, then blasted at the shadows inside. He entered and kicked in the door to the next room, firing at a couple sitting up in bed. He heard other blasts as Richard, Emily and the Matriarch blew through the front door. The memory of his dying father in mind, Billy blasted room after room. He came upon an unarmed boy no older than himself and engulfed him in a ball of fire, giving the enemy no more mercy than they’d give him.
He found an old lady cursing Richard in the grand entrance by the stairs. This had to be the duchess, whose family had Billy’s father killed. The others were blasting upstairs, so Billy thrust steel through the old lady's midsection to shut her up. She fell and turned to see who stabbed her literally in the back.
"You!" she accused Billy.
"You!" he accused her back, smashing her jaw to shut her up for good. "Go help the others," he barked at Richard, who looked strangely sluggish at this authority figure who intimidated him his entire life.
Billy flew to the nearest fight outside and savaged the enemy. Instead of one grand battle, dozens of fighters fought individual duels on their own. Billy's wand signaled "attack" and his quads overwhelmed the pockets of resistance, then chased those who fled too slowly. If the entire enemy fought as a group, they may have won, but too many fled, so the bravest died first. Billy chased down enemies until past dawn, his energy, like his rage, inexhaustible.
He found his team still celebrating their painless victory. The Matriarch carefully counted out the vast treasure they found in the vault, each of them estimating their share. People he just met hugged him. Many had apparently been living on the edge of poverty and couldn’t believe their good fortune -- which was literally a fortune to them. Billy felt bad for not sending them money long ago.
While Billy ate breakfast, Richard told him the Matriarch needed to show him something in the mansion. He entered the master bedroom to see Susan holding a baby girl. She did not need to explain the dilemma. If Billy wanted the baby dead, he’d have to do it himself. Billy's reaction surprised her. He took the baby into his arms like a new father.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Knowing that he just had her parents killed did not bother him. "Susan, I'll pay a kilo a year for eighteen years if you find someone to raise the baby as her own. But she can never know who her real parents were. Agreed?"
As if the Matriarch had an alternative. They couldn't just leave the baby here. And he offered more than most families earn.
Susan was so moved that she shocked Billy by kissing him on the forehead.