by Chris Hechtl
“It'll take a full lab to figure out an antivenin,” the Doc cautioned, shaking her head.
“That's why I just want to know what it is so you can try a course of treatment if possible.” He shook his head. “Antivenin later if we've got the resources. Knowing what we're up against is just as important,” he sighed as he watched them zip the body bag closed for the last time.
“It's a bit like closing a barn door after the horses are out and the barn is burning down, but we're going to have to be more careful. Work gloves, and look before you leap. When in doubt stick a stick or something in first. I don't want to lose anyone else from these damn things,” the Gunny growled.
“Agreed. Let's get to work,” Ryans nodded brushing his legs off. He pulled a pair of gloves out of a thigh pocket.
“What about her?” Perry asked, indicating the body.
Ryans frowned, shaking the gloves out. “Strip her body of any gear then we'll bury her.”
“With the cache?” Galloway asked, indicating the cache with a nod.
Ryans turned back to them and shook his head. “No, but bury her nearby. That way her body won’t attract scavengers to it. The last thing we need is someone to see the pot at the end of the rainbow.”
“Good idea,” Galloway nodded. He looked at the body bag. “I'll take care of it.”
<==={}------------>
The Terran team made it through the pass with the last load just ahead of the scouts of the approaching army. The scouts were riding a variety of alien animals, some on two legs, and others six. They were all armed to the teeth and from the dust clouds behind them they were bringing friends. As they raced down the valley they saw the other end was plugged with a giant stone wall. “Caught in a firetrap,” Perry observed and then shrugged. “No help for it. Onward and upward.” He pointed to a mountain goat trail the LAV point had stumbled across. It was just wide enough for the vehicles.
They took the trucks up the slopes, going all wheeler just as the scouts of the invading army hit the entrance of the pass and night fell. Torches were lit along the top of the wall. The gas giant was no longer in the sky so the team used night vision goggles and blue lights to see. When they crested the mountain they looked back. The mountain pass was filled with enemy troops. Perry got them over the side and down another goat trail and beyond the mouth of the vale using the night vision goggles.
On the other side just before they were out of sight they looked back to see the army strike the wall and the defenders fighting a desperate battle. “Shouldn't we help?” the Doc asked tentatively.
“Which side Doc? I don't have a clue who the good guys are. No, this is not our battle. Best to stay the hell out of it and try not to get caught in the middle if we can help it,” Perry said shaking his head. He for one didn't like the idea of the group that had branched off from the main attack to follow in the Terran's tire tracks. That wasn't good. He wanted to get as far away from them as possible as quickly as possible.
“We don't know the players or the game. Best to sit back and watch Doc,” Ryans agreed.
<==={}------------>
Thorvald saw the strange green cart like things moving. There were no beasts to pull them but there had been men around them at one point, he was sure of it. Men made machines like that, machines with wheels. Gaijin, he thought with a savage smirk. A perfect bonus, more loot, truly worthy loot for his sons to inherit.
Gaijin were highly valued for the new blood they brought to the people and the new things they brought with them. These had magical things indeed and he couldn't wait to catch up to them and strip their secrets from them. He'd rape their daughters or let his men do so. They deserved a little reward for their hard march.
He still smarted under Art’ur's tongue lashing. It was humiliating to be brought down by a peasant and then berated for it by a boy. It was even worse when he knew the stripling was right sear it! Art’ur had assigned him replacement mounts but had acidly informed him to take better care of these. He intended to make Art’ur eat those words, eat crow double when he brought the gaijin before him.
He spurred his beast onward. “Follow!” he bellowed, drawing his curved sword. “Let the battle line take the wall! Second rank follow the gaijin up the hill!” he called waving them forward and pointing with the sword. “There's loot to be had, new loot!” he called, encouraging the doubters. His men gave a tired cheer and moved forward with renewed purpose.
With any luck the gaijin would stumble or stop because the trail did and he would catch up with them. Or they would get over the pass and he and his men would be able to hit the Duluth wall from behind he thought with savage anticipation. Soon there would be blood; there would be battle... soon.... And there was no place for the gaijin to go...
<==={}------------>
Meanwhile Waters led a scout team to check on the raiders. They cut around the lead scouting elements still digesting their ill-gotten booty to see just how big a force they had. He found the vanguard of an invading medieval army. He radioed in the bad news as he tried to get a head count.
“This isn't good,” Ryans said shaking his head as Waters signed off. He wasn't worried about the Master Sergeant, the man was a survivor, and he’d get back.
He'd outfitted the group with the latest camouflage before they'd left, based on the visual images from the MALP's and UAV that had come before them. It wasn't perfect, no camouflage was, but it helped to blend them in. Waters and his team had ghillie suits, with a bit of native vegetation and a healthy dose of luck they should slip around the scouts and back to their vehicle and then back to the convoy in under two hours.
“Tell me something less obvious,” Perry growled, using his fork to mix gravy in his potatoes. He hated the fake stuff, the dehydrated instant crap that tasted like wet cardboard. He'd have real potatoes any day over this.
“No I mean, hell,” Ryans sighed, running a hand through his hair then putting his cap back on. “Look, back in medieval Europe raids were usually done with a couple of hundred people. Armies were tiny back then. Hell some of the battles in Britain were fought with less than eighty men on a side! Ten thousand? This is insane!” he threw his hands up in the air. Ten thousand was pretty much calling out all the stops for a medieval society. Unless they had one hell of a birth rate.
“Yeah, well tell them that,” Waters said shaking his head. “Looks like they pulled out all the stops. Full court press with all the trimmings. And it's coed too.”
The last report had stated that some, about one in five, of the raiders were women. Barbarian women. Savage barbarian women. Not one marine had made a joke about it after they were told about what the women did with the bodies of male prisoners. Lorena Bobbitt had nothing on them.
“Right,” Perry said. “It's almost like they plan to stay or something.”
“Interestingly there are women fighting on both sides,” Doc said, sitting down beside them. “This seat taken?”
“Nah Doc, you go ahead,” the Gunny drawled. “Yeah, I noticed the women. About five men to each woman if my math's right.”
Perry looked up in thought. “Ratio sounds about right,” he nodded.
“Which is another thing, medieval women didn't fight. At least not like this!” Ryans waved.
“Queen Boudicca?” Perry asked slyly.
Gunny snorted. Perry looked at him. “Sorry sir, I was thinking Xena.”
Doc blinked in confusion. “Okay Xena was a TV thing. The Queen...”
“Celtic Queen. Welsh I believe. She fought in a chariot. Did pretty good for a while but eventually she got her butt kicked by the Romans,” Ryans said, filling her in.
Doc blinked at him in confusion. “Oh. So what does that have to do with this situation?”
“Nothing really. We're just trying to put things into perspective,” Perry said shrugging. He set his empty MRE tray aside.
“What? That women can’t fight?” Doc waved a hand to the female soldiers in the group.
The men excha
nged amused looks. She ground her teeth together, drumming her fingers against her hip until finally Ryans owned up. “Sexism is ugly, but it was pretty well established before the industrial revolution Doc. Women don't have the upper body strength to hold a shield wall, use a bow, or fight with a sword for long. Women were thought of well...” Ryans shrugged.
“As brood mares and maids,” Doc practically snarled. “I'd think we've come a ways from that.” She gave the men a look but they were busy looking elsewhere. “Though sometimes I wonder.”
“It's easy to backslide Doc. It's an established pattern,” Ryans said with a shrug. “Which makes my point. What the heck is happening here? Both sides are medieval cultures. One seems a mix, the raiders look a lot like Vikings or Normans.”
“Well, for one thing, this isn't Earth remember?” Doc said dryly.
“What made you get that idea? The gas giant in the sky or the six legged critters and funky plants Doc?” the Gunny asked innocently.
She gave him a dirty look. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, you can't expect things to be just like on Earth. This place is different. Different environment means different variables for social development. For all we know this could be normal.” She waved a helpless hand. “For them I mean.”
“But in the end it all boils down to the lowest common denominator Doc,” Ryans said shaking his head. “In a feudal society the men fight and take care of the farm. Which reminds me, if the women are here... who's minding the farms back home? Is this all they have? Do they go around doing this? Or is someone sitting at home? Were they driven from their homes? If so by who or what?”
“Or is this an all hands on deck like the Mongols,” Perry said shrugging. “According to what they taught us in the academy ancient armies had followers.”
“Groupies,” the Gunny said with a snort.
“Wives and children of the soldiers. Also support personnel. Though these...” He shrugged. “We don't know if they are fighters or not. Or auxiliaries.”
“Men,” Doc growled, getting up and leaving.
They watched her go. “Something I said?” Perry asked then shrugged.
Frustrated with the situation Princess Deidra, seventeen year old and oldest of her siblings tried to glower at the Duke. Duke Emroy was a good man with a good heart. Father had sent them here for her to learn more on deportment and to get her away from a lowly knight that had been courting her.
Of course you couldn't just send the future of the royal bloodline to just anyone. Emroy was a most trusted vassal and had of course traded his own wife and family in return for the care of the princess. Which he had just pointed out to her. Tired as he was, he was still stubborn and determined to protect her welfare whether she wished it or not.
“Father will come sooner with us here my Dominus,” she ground out between her teeth. She was certain of that. Obviously the duchy wasn't as secure as everyone had thought it was. The reports of the Duluth harvest being meager had driven them to war, one that had caught their people by surprise obviously. Who would have thought that King Richard could marshal his forces and move them so quickly? And in numbers that scarcely could be believed!
“Or if we fall your father will have to deal with you and your brother and sister as hostages. No your Highness it is decided. You must away before the army of Duluth despoils my lands. Already reports are in that the wall garrison has fallen. There wasn't time to... enough,” the old man said waving the discussion aside. “There is no time Deidra, I know you're aware of it. Take Zara and Balthazar and get them away as quickly as you can,” he said.
Deidra bit her lip. She was a warrior princess, she wanted to fight. But Zara... Zara wasn't as much of a warrior as her older sister. And little Balthazar... the lad was supposed to be here as a page to begin to learn the art of war but that was now out. The succession must be protected at all costs. She knew the Duke was right but blast it! Deidra realized that arguing with Duke Emroy was futile. The Duke would do his duty, it was he who had ordered that they leave and if necessary he'd bundle them up like overstuffed packages and drag them out. The men he sent along to guard her would be sorely missed here.
“At least keep your men here. We can move faster without so many,” she urged. But the Duke merely shook his head. “Please you'll...” he held up a hand. She sighed and looked to Zara. Zara was adjusting her royal red and purple dress, her gold leaf tiara slipped as she bent over. She caught it and adjusted it as she straightened.
“Are we not leaving? Should we not leave at first light?” Zara called. The Duke shook his head.
“Then we must away now in the cool night so the mounts will not overheat,” the golden haired Balthazar urged them to follow orders, looking at the grooms and guards as they prepared the royal coach. Balthazar like his siblings had reddish gold hair, a trademark from their mother. His crown slipped and he adjusted it. He was right Deidra thought the whelp had been paying attention to the groom's lessons.
“Get thee hence your Majesty,” Emroy said interrupting Deidra’s thoughts. She returned her attention to him. His eyes were troubled but firm. “Your parents would never forgive me if I let you linger overlong so go and in good health.” He pulled her into his arms for a quick hug and then released her as she gasped. “Now go and give my love to my wife and children. Tell them I will see them when I may,” the old Duke said.
He turned immediately as a steward rushed up. Deidra bit her lip, realizing Duke Emroy was busy, ordering his men and women to gather as much as possible into the security of the walls. The Duke didn't need her distracting him at this critical time she realized. The town below was lit with torches and lanterns as people bustled about securing the fortress. No one would sleep this night. Zara looked at the golden coach, stroking the branack, leading it. The grooms finished with the tack as her sister and younger brother boarded. “Coming?” Deidra demanded.
“Coming!” Zara said. She climbed aboard and looked back as the driver clucked and flicked the reins. Her door slammed shut and locked. She looked out through the rear window at the people running about. Some of the guards were headed out through the gate to the wall. Hopefully they would be able to hold off the savages.
“They'll be fine,” Deidra said. “I for one am not so sure about us. I do not like the idea of being in this contraption,” she said with a growl.
“You'd rather be mounted aye,” Balthazar teased tugging on her braid. She reached out and flicked his nose.
“Mind your manners squirt,” she said and turned to the window. “Tis a long ride and a most unpleasant one.”
<==={}------------>
The Terrans used nvgs to get around the knights, footmen, and pike men racing to the wall. It was hard staying off the one decent road in the area. The scout LAV's up ahead gave them plenty of warning of a group though. The master sergeant called back, he told them they must have been spotted on that trail, and it looked like some of that raiding army had followed them. Perry and Ryans looked at each other, eyes bleak. They knew what that meant.
They passed a walled city in the dark. Doc and their historian/linguist Ben Jarvic recorded the lighted medieval town and castle. “I hope they're prepared,” Doc muttered. She was sitting in the back of the hummer, Perry was driving. Ryans sat in the passenger seat, helping to navigate.
“No, they're not,” Ryans said quietly taking a quick look.
“How can you tell?” she asked, looking to him as he turned away from the sight. “I thought they had a supply of food and water inside?”
“Oh they do. The castle is typically built on a well or cistern. No, I can tell because there aren't any hoardings on the battlements. And they don't have many people on the battlements either. Maybe one or two, which is about right for a peace time castle garrison. Normally the garrison is about a dozen fit men. Also people are still coming and going in and out of the city. But not for much longer,” he said pointing. A rider just came up the road from the wall. “It looks like the shit just hit the fan,” he grima
ced, observing the rider on a six legged beast riding hell for leather through the gates. The rider looked torn up, which meant he was all the desperate wall defenders could spare. That was definitely not good.
“Ah, Hoardings?” she muttered asking out of curiosity.
He smiled. “Wooden covers over the tops of the battlements. The roofs were made of slate or some other flame proof material if possible. They extend the wall up and out so they can drop oil and rocks on anyone attacking at the foot of the wall, and fire down upon them as they approach,” he explained.
“If you say so,” she said dubiously and then nodded and shrugged putting the description aside.
<==={}------------>
They found a nearby hollow and went to ground just as the sun began to rise. The master sergeant caught up with them in the dawn light, pulling bushes behind his LAV to hide the vehicle tracks. Perry nodded in approval. Perry and the sarge yawned but started to set a perimeter. Ryans intervened however, waving them aside. He had the civilians who had ridden the entire time in comfort set up the perimeter while the drivers and military group on watch stood down for four hours.
Perry reluctantly agreed with a second yawn. A few of the civilians made mute protests, but were cut off by Ryans glower.
At lunch the entire group was awake. Ryans noted Doc was off on a rocky rise, belly down with a pair of binoculars. He decided to go up to see what she was doing. She started as he crawled up next to her. Perry followed and laid down on her other side.
She handed Ryans the binoculars. “It seems like they got in.” She pointed to a platoon of raiders chasing a golden coach. The creatures pulling it were galloping full tilt for their lives.
“Damn,” Ryans turned to look upon the nearby village. Black oily smoke was pouring from the huts. One burst into flames. He could just imagine the sound of screams and whimpers. He shivered a little, partially in fear but more in helpless rage. He'd love to go down there and empty his pistols into the bastards right now.