by Chris Hechtl
She looked at the river and frowned. “I'll have to check...” She looked around. “Blast, he's not here.”
Deidra looked up and came over. She looked at the map. “What? What are you looking at mother?” she asked looking to her mother as she traced a finger on the river. “Zara, Balthazar, and I stayed there with daddy one summer. There's a lake up here with some fishing boats,” she said, pointing to a valley on the map. She described them.
Perry nodded. “You want to use them as a go around? Hook north up the river, then come down from a different direction?” he asked carefully.
“Yeah, away from the army... hopefully. If we set it up right we can daisy chain it. Keep the raiders off balance, get some supplies and reinforce the wall. If possible I'd like to get some cement materials to them so they can improve things. They won’t need rock; they've got plenty of rubble on hand. But the other materials might be shippable,” Ryans explained.
Perry nodded. “The wall is designed to be defended on the one side; we'd have to improvise something for the other side. Yeah I see your point,” he said. He grimaced. Ticundus had been promoted to a centurion, the equivalent of a lieutenant's position and was holding the wall. He'd been issued a radio and seemed to be handling the situation well. His last report stated that he'd put the captured Duluth prisoners to work rebuilding the wall and digging a trench moat in between the wall and the duchy. The kid seemed to be on the ball.
“Why not let them go?” Sue asked exasperated. “Let them leave?”
“Because they came here. The only way to beat them is to break them. Cutting off their logistics is a start. That forces them to fight with what they have without any reinforcements. It hits their morale though, knowing that they're slowly running out of food. Cutting off their way home will further demoralize them,” Perry explained patiently.
The Queen's eyes glittered. “Duluth overstepped his bounds. He will rue the day he set foot in our Imperium,” she said with a ring of steel in her voice. Deidra nodded vehemently.
Ryans nodded politely. “So, we cut them off, scare them into thinking they're trapped and then cut them up so they break up and lose cohesion. Then we pick the isolated parts off,” he said. He smiled nasty. “Defeat in detail.”
“Not bad, couldn't have said it better myself. Not bad for a civilian puke,” Perry smiled to Ryans who chuckled.
“This from a neanderthal grunt?” Ryans teased right back. The others chuckled politely. Perry chuckled as well.
“If we're all done slapping ourselves on the back over our own cleverness, I've got work to do,” the machinist got up and stretched.
<==={}------------>
Newly promoted centurion Ticundus looked out in satisfaction at the wall and the men and women around him. He had a bare century of men between the two teams. Team two had done what it could to secure the pass with deadfalls but had finally settled into scouting for any approaching convoys and cutting them off once they entered the pass.
So far they had captured two convoys and killed one messenger. He regretted that, not the loss of life of course, the Duluth scum deserved what they got. No, he regretted the bastard's branack getting away clean. Hopefully the beast would be picked up by someone other than a Duluth unit. Or fall prey to a wandering basilisk.
So far his meager century of men, one hundred all told were watching over the wall and the pass while the forty conscripted prisoners labored to rebuild the wall and dig a moat on the back side of the wall. Their supplies were put to good use, supplying them and the Silent Knights with food and fodder. They had plenty of food now, but he worried over a concentrated attack. He was strictly limited on ammunition.
“If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying, as corporal Newman likes to say,” he said, turning to his second. “Any word?” he asked.
Duplicarious Jensig shook his head. “Nothing from the scouts, weather looks good,” he said turning a weather eye to the sky as the wind picked up.
“Red sky,” Ticundus grunted. “The daily report?”
“I've just finished sending it. We've got about two and a half more hours of daylight. Do you want me to bring them in early or let them sweat?” Jensig asked, nodding his chin to the laborers.
Ticundus turned to them. He snorted, eyes cold. Most were old folk; some had a hand missing or a leg. They were terrible diggers even with the folding shovels the gaijin had designed. He'd thought about using a draft animal, seeing if they could improvise a plow to drag behind the beast but had decided against it. He didn't want any of the prisoners to get any ideas about getting on one of the animals and then charging off to alert the army after all.
“No, give them another hour and then bring them in. The wind picked up and then shifted, cooling suddenly. “Storm I think,” he said.
“Hopefully,” a soldier nearby said.
Ticundus glanced her way and then shook his head. “As you were,” he growled. She came to attention and then refocused on her job of watching over the prisoners. “We'll see if we can use the draft beasts to pull any rocks and break ground. Our people will have to do that though,” he said, turning to Jensig.
Jensig nodded. “Any word on resupply?”
Ticundus shook his head. They hadn't used a lot of ammunition but they had fired off two dozen precious rounds in the taking of the two convoys... and another three in killing the messenger. “I'm hoping we'll hear something soon.”
“Me too, any idea if it'll be just material or men as well?” Jensig asked hopefully.
Ticundus shrugged. “Again, no idea, we'll see what tomorrow brings,” he said slapping the other man on the shoulder. “I'll check on the cooks. You make sure the night shift is ready to go.”
“Certe centurion,” Jensig said, saluting him with a fist on his chest before moving off. Ticundus watched him leave and then shook his head, turning to face the wind. A bare two weeks ago they had been equals and squad mates and before that he'd been a farm boy who'd abandoned the farm in favor of going to the capital in order to make his fortune there. How things had changed! The invasion and the gaijin had a lot to do with it too, both the good and the bad.
He would still be a lowly private had the gaijin not seen something in him. He treasured that trust, treasured the respect they'd given him. He had no intention of letting them down. He turned back to the men and women waiting on his orders. He nodded to the nearby female miles and then walked off into the ruined fort.
Chapter 15
“We've noticed the guards are not wearing their colors,” the King said looking pointedly out the window to the courtyards below. The King had insisted on a briefing from Perry and the others this fine morning.
“What, the guards training?” Perry asked amused. “Well, first off, training tends to destroy whatever they're wearing. Why ruin a nice uniform?” he asked. The King nodded. Perry shrugged under the King's questioning gaze. “Second finery like that should be reserved for dress occasions, not in the field.”
“How will they notice the royal guard then?” the King asked amused and aghast.
Perry frowned. “Ah, majesty, that's the whole point. If they can't see you then an archer can't pick you out of the crowd to kill you,” he explained patiently. The King's eyes narrowed at that statement.
“There's some truth to that,” the King said and then nodded slowly. “Wise.” He paused then nodded again rubbing his chin in thought. “Yes, wise,” he murmured.
“I'm glad you think so your majesty. We've changed the uniforms to a green and brown, much like the buskin the woodsman wear. This should make it harder for archers to pick individual targets. It will also make it much easier for the men to get closer to the enemy in other engagements and not be seen,” Perry smiled evilly.
“Gotcha,” Ryans nodded. He'd known the reasoning but wanted to fill in the empty time when the conversation seemed to lapse for too long.
“Ah, but the finery is all part of a battle! A glorious death in battle...” the King said wistfu
lly.
“Trust me, I know you've got your heart set on that, but it's much better to be with the women and die from them throttling you after some misadventure than bleeding out in a muddy field,” Perry said smiling. The smile didn't quite meet his eyes though.
“Or to throw yourself off the parapet after they decide to redecorate after the tenth time in a year,” Ryans smirked knowingly. The other men chuckled. The King's laugh was soft at first, then firmed up into a braying chuckle.
Sue glared at them, arms crossed. “Sure yuck it up. Men,” she said in mock disgust. “They're all alike.” She snorted, shaking her head at the Queen and then turning as Wanda and Charlie came in.
“What, can't live with them, can't shoot them?” Charlie teased smiling. It was the women's turn to snicker as the men sobered.
“What's up ladies?” Ryans asked as they smiled at one another. Charlie rolled her shoulders then smiled taking something from her pocket.
“Oh, this,” she smacked it into his hand. He looked down at it then blinked.
In his hand was a cartridge, a full and complete round. It looked like a modern round for that matter.
“Nice,” he said admiring it then holding it up to the King and Lieutenant to see. He passed it to the King. “Nice job ladies,” he said turning to Charlie and Wanda.
“I'd say it wasn't nothing, but I'd be lying,” Charlie said tiredly. Her shoulders were slumped. Her face was drawn; eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep. “We got the shape from spent brass we used as a template mold. The nitrate and fulminate of mercury percussion caps are still a problem. Getting them seated properly without going off is also a concern,” she explained. “But we've got them into production now so we can start transferring over to that standard over the paper cartridges,” she said. She shrugged as the others gazed at her curiously.
“How soon can you produce them in usable numbers?” Ryans asked as the Lieutenant handed him the round back. Charlie glared at him.
“Rest. Eat. Bathe. Definitely bathe,” Sue said patting her shoulder. Charlie gave her an amused but annoyed look.
“Cute, real cute,” Charlie half snarled.
Wanda laid an arm over her shoulders. “Come on; let’s go get a glass of wine, some of that Brie cheese, and a nice hot bath.”
“Don't have to ask me twice,” Charlie said laughing. She gave Perry and Ryans a disgusted look then left.
“What'd I say?” Ryans asked amused.
<==={}------------>
Mary grinned at Max as they watched the mill in action. Max seemed bored, not interested in the wooden gears and belt driven machinery. Mary wasn't so much interested in that as she was in their new millstones and how well they would perform in comparison to the old, so far so good.
“They're wearing fine I think,” Max said, ready to leave.
“Just hang on a sec, I want to compare a sample,” Mary said. She waited until the first bag was finished and then took a small sample from it. She compared it to another grind by the old stones. She smiled, looking at it with a jeweler's loupe.
“Something you like?” Max asked, clearly bored.
“It's a three times finer grind Max,” she replied. “Nice,” she said, feeling it with her fingers and then bagging the sample. “You won’t be breaking your teeth on these,” she said firmly, putting the loupe away.
“Ah,” Max said.
“You really want a visit to the dentist in these conditions?” Mary demanded, eying him. He scowled.
After a moment he shook his head and looked away to the group working around them. “No,” he said, sounding almost sullen but resigned. The mill owner was pleased, thumbs in his broad waist belt as he watched the new equipment getting broken in for the first time. “I do want to stay clear of flour and grain areas though if you don't mind.”
“Oh?”
“Explosion hazard?” he asked. She blinked at him.
“I thought this place had a great safety record?” she asked. He snorted.
“It does. It was rebuilt on the foundations of the last two places.”
“Oh,” Mary said, suddenly subdued. Grain mills and silos were prone to explosive events when the conditions were right. Or in the case of the people working in them, horribly wrong. Suddenly she wasn't at all eager to stick around for much longer. “Um, yeah...”
“We've got fire sprinklers in the works but there's a shortage of metals so it's going to take a while to get them in gear. Plus I've got to figure out how to get the processes sorted out too,” Max sighed. “Making the damn things,” he said, shaking his head. “So, yeah, just between you and me, let's not stay overlong. Anything else you want to see?” he asked tiredly. He sounded bored.
“Something eating you?” Mary asked.
He sighed. “Just a hundred and one thousand projects to do Mary, sorry. I've got to check on the salt grinding, the pasteurization plant, the new concrete works, and of course all the smelters and factories,” he said testily. “Wanda and Charlie want me to rig a better exhaust fan for their labs, along with a generator for lights, Ryans said he'd take a look but he got snagged so that's out,” he said sourly.
“Sounds like you need a break. Or a clone,” Mary replied with a sympathetic grin. Max snorted. “Go, I won't keep you. I'll try to check on this in say, a week?” she asked, turning to the mill owner. The fat well dressed mill owner shrugged. His foreman behind him turned to her and then nodded. Mary smiled to him and then nodded. “A week then,” she said, shaking the mill owner's hand. He blinked at her but before he could say anything she turned and followed Max out.
<==={}------------>
“How are you going to break them?” Sue asked during a rare group meeting. They were all sitting around the room, some lounging, and a few attentive. Max looked like he was asleep. It was getting harder and harder to get them all in one place at one time. For the past two weeks many of the meetings had been over the radio net or limited to just a few people.
“Shock and awe,” Perry answered giving the others a knowing look. “We're going to dazzle them with modern warfare.”
“Huh? Shock and awe?” Sue asked confused. “That doesn't make any sense,” she said sighing in frustration. Wanda did as well. Perry sighed patiently.
“Well, they haven't seen what we can do. We throw them off base then throw enough explosives at them that their animals will freak... or faint... as will their soldiers. Most animals have an instinctive fear of fire, including man,” he explained. They nodded at this. “Remember, most of the footmen are farm conscripts. I've seen it often enough. The first taste of real battle, our sort of battle and many men, even the hardest of hard asses break and run or lock up.”
Sue nodded eyes troubled. “Yeah, blowing something up will be something new and frightening for a medieval peasant,” she grunted as she thought about it. “Yeah, their first exposures to fire and explosives cause many to break. Okay, so that explained the whole shock and awe bit. Huh,” she grunted rubbing her chin, oblivious to the amused glance Perry shot to the Master Sergeant.
“Something I've been wondering. Why are they here? Who's tending the homes?” she asked suddenly.
Perry looked around then shrugged. “From what intel we've gained they've had a horrible harvest the past couple of years. They're desperate, so they hit here to get what they needed,” he grimaced.
“Most of the people left behind are the women, children too young to fight, the infirm or the old. Those that survived the past two famines that is,” Ryans explained. “They'll have an even worse year with that mix of manpower and a complete lack of draft animals for support. But without the need to feed all the soldiers, it will make it a little easier in the summer.”
“So instead of trading for it they come in and play Viking?” Wanda asked disgusted with the idea. “Steal it instead of trade for it?”
The Master Sergeant nodded. “It's the mindset, they don't want to appear weak to their neighbors. They'd be easy pickings. Anyone could co
me in and start taking bites out of them.”
“Ah, so they come in and raid... Act with violence first. Typical male testosterone,” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Should have thought of that. I gotta go, I've got a still to check,” Wanda said shook her head leaving the room.
Ryans snorted. “Testosterone...” Then chuckled quietly.
“Something just occurred to me, why didn't Duluth come here?” Doc asked looking at Perry and Ryans.
Ryans raises an eyebrow. “Several reasons Doc,” he said but didn't elaborate. He shrugged as she quirked an eyebrow at him and kept staring.
“No honestly; I want to know,” she finally asked. There was a hint of exasperation in her voice.
He smiled. “Okay, first from the intel they had a poor harvest so his logistics are messed up. Second he may not want to get in too deep and get cut off. Third, the Duke's castle hasn't fallen so he can't leave it behind.”
She looked confused. “Why not?” Deidra looked at them both, eyebrow raised.
Zara nodded, looking fascinated by the lecture. “Yes, why?”
Perry shifted on his stool. He didn't have a lot of patience to educate them but maybe something good would come of it in the long run. “Because it's a sally point threatening his supply lines and rear,” Perry explained nodding to Ryans who nodded back. “There's another reason, he may not want to go to deep for fear of being mired and cut off from escape. This way he can set himself up to go deeper while his reserve forces marshal and come forward and he has a negotiating base.”
“What do you mean?” Deidra asked.
“If your father wanted him out without the war, because he didn't have the resources to marshal his own fighting force in time, then he would send diplomats to try to negotiate to get them to leave,” Ryans explained. “I have a feeling Art’ur was half expecting that. But we intervened and changed the situation.”