by John Ringo
There were crashing sounds coming from the next room over and Herzer shook his head.
“Meredith?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He walked over to the wall and looked at the plaster, then drove the sword into it, tearing downward. The plaster shattered and he continued cutting until he had a fair-sized hole in the wall. There were studs in the wall but there was enough room to fit between. He slammed his foot into the plaster on the other side, getting a small hole, then hammered his shoulder into it, finally breaking through in a shower of plaster dust.
The scorpion in the room was confronted by a mattress in the corner that it had, thus far, been unable to pass. The mattress was slashed and tattered, filling the room with feathers, but it still had enough mass the scorpion couldn’t get through. Its stinger was repeatedly jabbing at the mass, but apparently it hadn’t hit a target, yet.
At Herzer’s entrance, the bug rotated around, waving its claws and stinger menacingly. Herzer wasn’t sure if the thing was intelligent or not. It was either defending its intended prey or recognized Herzer as a threat, though, because it scuttled forward, snapping at him, the stinger held in readiness.
Herzer wasn’t sure exactly how to fight this one. If he used the trick of striking a claw, the thing would use its stinger to get him before he could retreat. He’d like to take the stinger out, first, but it was unlikely to get into reach unless he was already being held by one of the claws. He suddenly realized that he was still naked and the thought of one of those claws getting a hold of his member was disheartening.
He circled the thing, keeping away from the walls where he could get pinned, expecting a hammering on the door at any moment.
The thing was opening and closing its claws as it circled and that gave him his only opening. He lunged with the point and got it jammed into the interior of the left claw joint but when he twisted the sword barely moved; he remembered, too late, the claw was metal.
He looked up just in time to see the stinger lunge forward, aimed at his abdomen. He’d seen scorpions sting before and they were blindingly fast. Perhaps because this thing was larger, the jab was fast but not the lightning motion of a normal sized specimen.
Desperately, he flung his prosthetic up and more by luck than skill caught the tip of the stinger in its grip. In one continuous motion he spun in place, the sword pulling out of the claw, tapping it to block to the inside, then up to cut off the poison sack, down to cut off the left claw and then flipped up and point down through the braincase.
This time he hadn’t got it embedded in the floor and he twisted it out, dropping the poison sack, and went to the mattress.
“Meredith?” he asked in a worried tone.
“What took you so long?” she asked pointedly, tossing the mattress off of her. She stopped when she saw him and grinned. “Is that a club you’re carrying around or are you just happy to see me?” she asked in a throaty voice.
Herzer’s mouth opened and closed and he shook his head at a shout from the corridor.
“I don’t have time for this,” he said, moving to the door. All he could hear was confused shouting so he went to the hole in the wall and gestured for the two women to come into the room.
“This lock still works,” he said, shoving the empty bedframe against the door and a bureau over the hole in the wall. There was nothing to do about the window. “Get in the corner with Meredith.”
“What about Ashly and Mirta?” Megan said, then closed her eyes and muttered. “Oh, God…”
“What?” Meredith asked.
“Never mind about Ashly,” Megan said, softly. “Mirta is outside the building, across the street. There’s nothing around her. She’s alive. Two scorpions alive. One in Ashly’s room, the other in Mirta’s. There’s…” She paused and frowned.
“Herzer!” a voice shouted from the corridor.
“Cruz?” Herzer yelled.
“Yeah,” Cruz said from outside the door. “Where in the hell is Countess Travante?”
Herzer opened his mouth and then paused. How much did he actually trust Cruz? Finally he decided.
“In here,” he said, hefting the sword.
There was a pause from outside the door and then Cruz chuckled.
“Thanks, buddy,” he said. “I already had a crack at one Key and gave it up. We’ve taken down the rest of the assassins. But we haven’t entered any of the rooms except yours. Which, by the way, were our standing orders. Protect the Key-holder. Remember?”
Herzer winced at the sarcastic tone and shrugged.
“Two more bugs, one in Ashly’s room, one in Mirta’s. Ashly appears to be dead.”
“Okay, we’ll clean ’em up,” Cruz said. “Stay there until it’s all clear.”
Megan took one look at what had once been her social secretary and then turned and threw up in the corner.
“She shouldn’t have had to go that way,” she gasped, spitting on the floor.
“Nobody should,” Herzer said, pulling a blood-stained sheet over the mess on the bed. “But that’s what happened to the rest of the team.” He’d retrieved his trousers but was still barefoot and shirtless.
“Were they after Megan, because she’s a Key-holder?” Meredith asked. “Or do they know you and she are forming the next team?”
“Good question,” Herzer replied. “And one I don’t think we’ll have the answer to any time soon.” He noticed that Meredith hadn’t been sick. Shanea, surrounded by guards, was well on her way to getting passed-out drunk in Megan’s apartment.
“Why were you outside the apartment?” Herzer asked Mirta.
“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of getting trapped inside by whatever was scuttling on the roof,” Mirta said. “I was not a part of this. There was one of those things in my room, too!”
“Herzer,” Megan said sharply.
“I’m sorry, Mirta,” Herzer said, shaking his head. “I’m seeing assassins in the shadows. I didn’t even trust Cruz when he arrived with the reinforcements.”
“It’s okay,” Mirta replied. “Who says I trust you?”
Herzer snorted and shook his head, gesturing at the door.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “There’s nothing to be done.”
“Except get rip-snorting drunk,” Mirta said.
As it turned out, it didn’t take much to get that way for any of the girls.
Herzer was nursing his first drink but Mirta had sat the others down and had them slam a shot of vodka apiece. That had led to the corn liquor and in short order, they were all drunk as loons.
He shouldn’t have been surprised. None of them had done much drinking since escaping from the harem and from the little he’d heard there was no hard alcohol allowed there. So they had a low resistance and none of them were exactly heavy.
Shanea was sitting on the floor, shaking her head from time to time and occasionally sobbing.
“It was a…” she kept saying. “All I could think to do was hide under the bed. It kept moving around and I’d move over to the other side and those… those claws…”
“Hell,” Mirta slurred. “I thought they were going to chase me down the alley. I was just hoping there were some guards left alive. I was planning on running right past them and if they followed all I had to do was outrun them. They were in armor; it should have been easy…”
“You missed the best part,” Meredith said. She’d hardly said a word during the whole drinking, just downing her shots and chasing them with very little water and another shot.
“Wass ’at?” Mirta asked, looking at her blearily.
“Herzer nekkid,” Meredith said, then giggled, slapping a hand over her mouth.
“Really?” Mirta said, her eyes widening.
“Nekkid,” Meredith repeated. “Unclothed.”
“Oh, yeah,” Shanea said and hiccupped. “He’s hung like a… like a… one of them things you ride… pulls a cart…”
“Horse,” Mirta said.
�
�Yeah,” Shanea said. “One of them.” She leaned over onto Herzer’s leg, slapping him on the upper thigh. “He’s my buddy. He pulled me out! Killed the scorpion! Thass wha’ it was. Scorpion! Big, horrible, scorpion an’ Herzer beat it to death with his giant cock!”
“Thank you,” Herzer said, prying her hand off of his leg. “But I killed it with a sword.”
“And what a sword it was!” Meredith said and giggled again, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Whoops. Nice sword. And a very nice club, too!”
“And all mine,” Megan said, leaning over and pulling his mouth down on hers, her other hand sliding up his leg.
“Meanie,” Shanea said, pouting. “Shared Paul!”
“Mine,” Megan repeated when she’d drawn back from the long kiss. “Come on, Herzer you big stud,” she said, using his shoulder to get to her feet. “We were just about to find out if you fit or not.”
“Megan,” Herzer said, shaking his head but getting to his feet. “You’re a little drunk.”
“I’m a lot drunk,” Megan said, nodding her head sharply. “S’why I’m gonna jump your bones. Come on.”
She dragged him out of the room as the other three watched sadly.
“There’s all these guards and things, around,” Shanea said, thoughtfully.
“You go ahead,” Meredith replied, lying down on the couch. “If I can’t get Herzer, I’m just going to lie here and pass out.”
“S’good idea,” Mirta said, slumping in her chair.
“Wimps,” Shanea muttered, clambering to her feet. “There’s a whole platoon of guards here. Making me do all the work. Just like always.”
“You go right ahead,” Meredith repeated, closing her eyes and then opening them. “Mirta?”
“Yeah?” the woman asked.
“Why’s the room spinning?”
“Because you’re about to throw up.”
Sergeant Sirous came to attention as the door to the councilwoman’s chambers opened and stopped himself from shaking his head at the sight of the Key-holder’s extremely drunk maid.
“Miss Shanea,” he said, formally. “Given the circumstances, all of you should remain in the councilwoman’s chambers.”
“’M goin’ to my room,” Shanea said, holding onto the doorframe for support. “S’right there,” she added, pointing in the general direction. “There’s s’ big scorpion in it. But iss dead.”
“And we removed the carcass, ma’am,” the sergeant said, sighing. “But we would prefer not to disperse out guards. Please stay in the councilwoman’s chambers.”
“’M goin’ to my room,” Shanea said, lunging forward and grasping the neck of his armor. “An’ you’re going with me.”
“If you insist on going I’ll detach a team to ensure your safety,” Sirous said, reaching up and gently prying at her hand.
“You don’t understan’, soldier boy,” Shanea said, yanking him forward. “I’m talking about you! Going with me. To my room. Come on. S’ an order. Bring some more guards. Gonna need lots a guards…”
“Megan,” Herzer said, lowering her onto the bed. “Are you sure about this?”
“You bet,” she said, pulling off her shirt. “Will you look at these?”
“They’re lovely,” Herzer said, smiling. He was barely buzzed and he was afraid that if he actually took her in this condition it would screw things up royally.
“Suck ’em,” Megan said, lunging up and grabbing him by the hair to drag him down. “I want you to suck on ’em! I know you want to. I’m going to give you everything you want, Herzer. Everything.”
Herzer slid his hand under her breast to cup it and sank down on the bed next to her.
“I love you,” he said.
“You’d better,” Megan said. “Or I’ll turn you into a newt,” she added with a giggle. “A well-hung newt. Keep you in a pot.”
“Well, as long as I’m your newt,” Herzer said, unbuttoning her pants and lowering his lips to her small, pink aureoles just as there was a knock on the bedroom door.
“WHAT?” he shouted, gritting his teeth.
“Herzer,” Cruz said. “We have a… bit of a situation…”
“I’ll be right back,” Herzer said, slipping off the bed. “I promise.”
“You’d better be,” Megan said, pouting. “Turn you into a newt.”
Cruz led him out into the corridor where Herzer nodded at the sight of the reinforced guard force. He noticed that the guards were… unusually wooden.
“Miss Shanea insisted that Sergeant Sirous accompany her back to her room,” Cruz said in a low tone. “And now she’s in there, crying.”
“Why?” Herzer asked.
“Because he won’t have sex with her,” Cruz said bluntly.
“Is he gay?” Herzer asked, puzzled.
“No,” Cruz ground out. “He’s on duty. And she’s the councilwoman’s friend. And she keeps asking where the rest of her guards are!”
“He doesn’t want to be turned into a newt?” Herzer asked. “Cruz, listen to me very carefully. Get… four more guards. Have them ensure her safety from inside her room. In… plain clothes or no clothes as the case may be. Tell them to screw the ever living daylights out of her.”
“What?”
“Screw her,” Herzer said. “Bang her. Fisk her pretty little ass off. Whatever she wants. Just get the girl laid for the Bull God’s sake. If one of them gets tired, switch them off until she gets tired or passes out or whatever. Call for another platoon if you have to but don’t bother me again unless the world is ending. Clear?”
Cruz looked at him befuddled for a second and then grinned.
“Clear,” he said, trying not to laugh. “Combat reaction?”
“Worst case of it I’ve ever seen and the girl is a nymphomaniac,” Herzer said. “And she hasn’t been getting any. So… whatever it takes.”
“I wasn’t actually talking about her,” Cruz said with a grin. “Do you mind if I… take a short break from duty?”
“If you’ve got an able assistant,” Herzer ground out.
“I do,” Cruz said, still grinning. “Night.”
“Good night.”
When Herzer got back to the bedroom, Megan was snoring softly.
Chapter Ten
When Herzer walked into the kitchen the next morning, Megan was sitting in the breakfast nook, her elbows on the table and her head clutched in her hands. Shanea was lying back in her chair, eyes closed, mouth open, breathing slowly. She’d apparently taken time to do her hair and makeup so she looked like a very pretty corpse.
Herzer tiptoed across the room to the percolator and started to get out the makings.
“Is there any coffee?” Shanea said, softly, smacking her lips. “I have this… really familiar taste in my mouth.”
Megan groaned, softly, and shook her head.
“GOOD morning, troops!” Duke Edmund said, striding through the door.
“I do not need this,” Megan muttered, clutching her head. “I can’t turn you into a newt.”
“I think I can take one more soldier,” Shanea muttered.
“Have a fine time last night?” Edmund asked jovially.
“No,” Megan said. “Ashly is dead.”
“And everyone else is alive,” Edmund replied, sharply. “That is a very good thing.”
“Except for the nearly getting killed part, I had a good time last night,” Shanea said. “What I remember of it.”
“And I’ve never seen a group of more satisfied guards,” Edmund admitted.
“What, all of them?” Herzer asked.
“According to reports,” Edmund said with a nod.
“Good lord,” Herzer said, shaking his head.
“All of them sounds about right,” Shanea said. “Is the coffee ready yet? I mean, it tastes good at first but the aftertaste… yick.”
“Shanea,” Megan muttered. “You didn’t.”
“She did indeed,” Edmund replied. “But it’s okay. The guards are quite… disc
reet.”
“Closed mouthed,” Herzer said. “Unlike some around here.”
“Herzer,” Megan said, threateningly. “We were nearly killed. Don’t be…” She stopped and looked up at him. “What did we do last night?”
“You slept,” Herzer said evenly, finally getting the coffee going. “I put blankets on Mirta and Meredith and then checked the guards. After that, I slept.”
“Oh, God,” Megan muttered. “I’m sorry, Herzer.”
“It’s okay,” Herzer said, sitting down.
“Hold it,” she said, sharply. “What do you mean you checked the guards?”
“Some of them,” he snapped. “Not all of them.”
“Herzer wasn’t there,” Shanea said. “Herzer I’m sure I would have remembered.” She frowned and wriggled a bit. “Yeah. Herzer definitely wasn’t there.”
“Did you know that Daneh was raped right after the Fall?” Edmund asked Megan.
“Yes,” Megan replied, glancing at Herzer who was still looking, if anything, more pissed. Given that it was a rape he’d been unable to stop, it was not his favorite topic of conversation.
“I’m not talking about Herzer’s burdens in it,” Edmund said. “I’m talking about Daneh. And me. She took… quite a while to get over it. And even after we were having conjugal relations, there were still problems. But she did get over it, as over it as any woman can. When you’re done with this mission, if you’re still having problems, or even not, I’d strongly recommend that you have a long talk with her. Or many. There are specialists around as well. But while she doesn’t do it as a specialty, she’s probably one of the best rape counselors in the world. And she’s my wife so you can talk to her about things that you couldn’t talk to with the vast majority of the counselors. And there are things that you cannot… understand, without talking to someone who knows. Including, among other things, irrational jabs of jealousy.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Megan said dryly.
“Don’t ‘keep it in mind,’ ” Edmund said, firmly. “Do it. End of discussion. Given the events of last night, and by that let me make plain that I’m discussing the attack, we’re moving up the shift to the training facility. You should be out of here by tomorrow—”