by Chris Hechtl
“Me mum wasn't so lucky. They slit her like a pig,” the boy said, shaking. His face darted down. He scuffed the rags on his feet. “Too old they said. Past her prime they said. Me sisters were dragged off to a hut screaming. Pa made me stand fast but they knocked the pitchfork out of me hands.” He clenched his fists looking up. Tears in his eyes. “We tried to fight. Honest we did. They be soldiers though, with proper arms. Pa did what he could but he and the others were killed.” He shook his head. He wiped at the tears in his eyes with a balled fist.
Men in the crowd were murmuring similar things. Flies and blood sucking insects were all over them, in thick droves. Some of the wounded were too weak to fend them off.
“Did any of you take money or help raid villages?” Waters asked, pitching is voice so others could here.
“No. No my lord. They said...” A man shoved another. “They said we'd be too likely to run away. That's why most of us were in the battle line with staffs, sticks, or blunted or broken weapons or none at all,” he said. He waved to indicate the battlefield. “They gave them to us just before the battle started.”
Waters grunted. “Let me guess, with men behind you to drive you on?”
“Aye,” the man said nodding.
“All right,” Waters nodded. He looked at the crowd. “When were you fed last?” he asked.
“Two days ago my lord,” the boy answered. “Traitors are to be executed tonight or tomorrow. Does that mean me?”
“Not if I can help it,” Waters muttered, turning away. “I'll be back.” He marched off to where the guard centurion and Ryans were arguing.
“We've got to do something about this!” Waters snarled, fists balled in rage. He nodded to the guard. “Feed them. Water too. Clean water,” he said giving the centurion a commanding look.
“Ah... My lord they are to be executed at dawn tomorrow. If they eat they'll just shit all over themselves...” the centurion said. Waters' savage look made the man gulp. “Right away.” He turned to an aide and snapped an order. The aide looked bewildered, glanced at Ryans and then rushed off.
“Now, who ordered the executions? I sure as hell didn't,” Ryans snarled. “In fact I ordered that no one be executed without trial and appeal to me,” he glared at the native soldiers.
“Ah my lord, they're traitors. All must be hung to deter others,” the centurion said giving him a confused look. “The general himself ordered it yesterday.”
“Oh he did did he?” Waters snarled.
“Easy Master Sergeant,” Ryans cautioned.
“Oh now you've done it. Here comes her nibs. Best scoot before she gets a foul temper,” the centurion warned shooing them.
Ryans turned to see Deidra and her guards approaching. He nodded to her and then back to the guard captain.
“I'm ordering a stay on that execution order. No conscript, hell no more executions until they're run past the Duke AND myself. Or the princess,” Ryans said, pitching his voice so she could hear. Her pace changed and her face worked. He turned as Deidra swept up to them. The guard captain had knelt at her final approach.
“Good afternoon your highness,” the guard said humbly.
Deidra hooked her hand into Ryans. “What's going on?” she asked.
Ryans turned to the centurion. “Get up,” he ordered. The centurion looked up and then stood cautiously. “We've got a little problem. It seems the surviving conscripts are to be executed.”
Deidra directed her glance to the guard captain. “Is this true?”
“Ah...” He gulped looking at their joined hands. “Ah, yes your highness. The general and Duke Emroy ordered it.”
“We'll see about that. Consider the executions called off,” Deidra ordered, looking at the group of men and boys. Her eyes lit on the young lad and held for a moment before she turned away.
“That's what you've been upset about my love?” she asked turning to Ryans with a smile.
“Oh this and that, that's a big part though. Thanks dear. It pays to have a girlfriend in high places,” he smiled to her as he hugged her to his side.
“We need to get them fed and watered though. And sort the bad apples out and let the rest go,” Waters said after a moment.
Deidra and the guards gave him a look. “None did this for money. They were taken by force while their families were raped and slaughtered. They were given a choice, fight or die.”
“Not much of a choice in my opinion,” Ryans murmured. “Especially for the kids,” He nodded his chin and then pointed to the boy at the edge of the field. Deidra looked at the small lad and her face hardened. She looked up at him and he caught her eyes with his own.
“Many like him have their whole lives ahead of them. Maybe we should at least conscript them into our army instead of killing them out of hand.”
Waters face puckered but then he nodded grudgingly. He'd rather see them run ragged by him than tossed in a dungeon or killed outright.
“How can we trust dogs like that? A man who turned his coat once will surely do it again! And the example! No, my lady they must not be trusted! They can't be loyal!” the centurion said throwing his hands up.
Deidra reluctantly let Ryans go and went over to the boy. She bent forward to speak with him. His eyes were wide. When she obviously introduced herself the entire prison camp knelt in a sudden wave.
“They look loyal to me,” Ryans observed dryly nodding to their gesture. Not one was defiant despite the threat of pending doom. The guard captain stared. “I'd say these people have been through enough,” he said. He nodded to Waters. “Sergeant get a couple of DIs, draft them if need be. They don't need much training, just the right oomph and enough knowledge till you find someone who does know what the hell they're doing.”
“And what are we going to be doing?” the Sergeant asked.
“Well, first you’re going to get them to clean that camp up, latrines too. Triage the wounded. Get it set up the way it should be. Get them food and water too. Sort them out. The wolves from the sheep, segregate the wolves for later then get the sheep settled in. Keep it light till we get things sorted out. I want each man interviewed and a witness statement taken.”
“Ah,” Waters nodded. “Might I suggest a health check?”
“Good point, should have gotten to it,” Ryans shook his head. “Deidra and I will handle the stiff upper lip crowd,” he waved to indicate the castle.
“What's to be done with them?” Deidra said coming over to them.
“Well, we were just discussing that. Since we're pardoning the Duluth, why the Master Sergeant here thought we should pardon these people too... or at least have them serve a short term in our own army before they go,” Ryans suggested.
Deidra froze and then nodded slowly. “They need food and drink. Medical attention as well.” She turned on the hapless guard captain. He looked defeated. After a moment he nodded.
“As you will it, so shall it be done your majesty,” he bowed and left quickly.
“Duke Emroy should have been more careful,” Deidra said looking around. “He's usually a kind soul with a gentle hand to his people.” She seemed deeply disturbed by this.
“The burnt hand though,” Waters said waving. “He may have heard stories of his own people doing dirty deeds, lumped them all in one category and then decided to wash his hands of them, permanently.”
“Yeah,” Ryans nodded. “We'll get it fixed. And the guilty will be punished.” He nodded to Deidra. He smacked at a blood sucking insect.
“Damn mosquitos or whatever the hell they are. Let’s go see what other havoc we can cause,” he grinned at Deidra who smiled back. She hooked her arm in his and they walked off. Her guards followed in their wake.
<==={}------------>
Deidra smiled as they walked into the great hall. He smiled back, and she fanned him. The feather tips brushed his cheek. He chuckled softly as she grinned. She was no longer in her combat armor but she was dressed for riding.
“What's the meaning of you cou
ntermanding my orders Ryans?” the general bellowed. They turned to see the portly general starting to stand next to the seated Duke Emroy. Pendragon was back in native attire, red cheeks full of wrath.
The elderly Duke's eyes were rheumy but flared in anger. “Is this true?” he asked darkly.
“I'll say it is! This... This... youth dared pardon the traitors!” the general threw his hands up in the air.
“One moment,” Ryans said holding up a hand. He touched his throat mike. “Master Sergeant Waters, bring Brom to the great hall please, on the double.”
“Aye aye sir,” Waters answered. “Three clear.”
“Ah, Six clear,” Ryans blushed a little at the implied rebuke over his poor radio discipline and then shrugged it off. He turned to the audience. “Sorry, I'm having Sergeant Waters bring a person for you to meet.”
“Traitors should be killed quickly before their treason festers and spreads,” the general snarled.
“Aye,” Duke Emroy said. The Duke's shoulders stiffened and then slumped back into the chair. “Aye,” he said again shaking his head and rubbing his brow. He pulled the stained bib off his chest and tossed it down on his plate. “Tis dirty business but it must be done.” He looked away.
“I have recently found five of my knights, their men, and two of my lords did open their doors to Duluth soldiers. They did turn their back on their countrymen and aided the enemy,” he said softly. His elderly fist slammed into an arm rest. “My own men,” he snarled.
“And what did you do with them?” Deidra asked.
“They fled. Those that survived the battle. They will be found and hung,” the Duke said.
“Most likely they will flee to the greenwood to live as bandits,” the general growled. “Scum.”
“Those that survive the animals there you mean,” Ryans said fingering his scarred arm. “basilisks aren't happy about intruders you know.”
“Aye, there is that,” the General nodded. They turned as the great doors creaked open once more and the Master Sergeant came in, Brom following.
“What's this?” the Duke asked. “A boy?”
“A witness, one of your traitors actually,” Deidra supplied, watching the old man's eyes widen.
“He is, is he,” the Duke said. He flicked his hand. “Send him away.”
“No, I think this will be an educational experience,” Ryans said smiling tightly. “Have a seat gentlemen.” He waited as the General sat. “Brom, why don't you tell the Duke and the General just how you were recruited by the Duluth.”
The boy looked uncertainly at Ryans and then bowed as he recognized the princess.
“Go on son, they won’t bite,” Waters growled. The princess smiled encouragingly.
Slowly the boy's story poured out of him. When he was finished Waters nodded. “I took the time to confirm their story. They were rounded up during raids and kept as prisoners in the camp. They were given little food and drink. The women were used as sport for the Duluth soldiers. Many didn't survive. All were not armed until the battle began. Even then they were given sticks or broken weapons,” Waters said.
The Duke slumped a little. “So?” the general asked in contempt.
“So they weren't given a choice. They were cannon fodder,” Ryans answered, glaring at the other man.
“Cannons? Those great things you used? The ones with the dragons bellow?” the Duke asked in confusion.
“It is a term from Earth. It means they were sacrifices.”
“Indeed,” Deidra said with a nod. Waters nodded as well.
“Like the animals that were loosed before the battle began,” Waters said.
“Something like that.” Ryans indicated a nearby chess board. “May I?” he asked. The Duke nodded. Ryans went over and picked up a pawn.
“Cannon fodder refers to men who are sacrifices. They are driven forward by others, into the arms of prepared enemy to soak up their energy with their own bodies so others behind them can go over, around, or through them to make the real attack.” He put the pawn down in front of them. “Pawns in other words.” He gave Deidra a look. “They weren't armed until it was necessary to fight, then only given blunted weapons and poles, then driven to fight with soldiers nipping at their heels ready to skewer any who faltered or tried to turn away.” He turned to Brom.
“Son would you have fought for your Duke?” he asked softly. The boy's eyes widened then turned to gaze to the Duke.
“Of course!” He hopped up and down. “Duke Emroy is a great lord! It's he who helped when there was famine two winters ago, when the crops died. When the river flooded last spring it was he who sent men from the castle to build dams to channel it away so we could rebuild!” Slowly the child knelt. “My lord gladly would I serve you.”
The lord's shoulders slumped even more. He took a look at the boy, head bowed, tears dripping and got up. He groaned softly as he moved and then touched the boy on the shoulder. “And I would have been glad of you by my side,” he said gruffly. He looked over to a guard. “Your sword.”
The guard hesitated and then removed the belt and handed his lord the entire package. The old lord took the sword from the scabbard then set the scabbard on the back of a chair. He touched the tip to the kneeling boy's shoulder gently.
The boy trembled. “I take you into my service Brom. You will serve me and mine and protect your countrymen,” the old Duke said. He sheathed the sword as the boy looked up beaming. The Duke pulled a copper out of his pocket and then caught the boy's hand.
“Here you have taken my money and so you are now part of my household. Report to Squire Kinset for your duties as a page.”
The boy got up and bobbed a bow and then rushed off. He stopped at the door to give them a questioning look. He opened his mouth but the nearby guard stopped him. He whispered something to the boy and then went back to standing at attention. The boy looked at the man, bowed slightly and then rushed off.
“Getting directions,” Waters said nodding. “Smart kid,” he said quietly. He nodded to Ryans.
The General looked uncomfortable. Ryans sighed. “Look, I agree, the wolves should be stripped from the sheep and dealt with.” He held up his hands. “I'm all for that. Men who helped rape and kill their own people should be severely punished. But let's not kill the entire flock for the actions of a few.”
“And what do you propose we do with them?” the general asked, color returning to his throat.
“Ryans has an admirable suggestion,” Deidra smiled to him. She turned her steely gaze on the general. “We're going to recruit them for the army. Those that are too young can serve as pages like Brom. We had to elevate most of our pages before the war started to have enough squires for the knights... so it fills a need.” She smiled at the Duke. “Just as his grace just did.”
The Duke's eyes twinkled. “And in keeping them in the royal army you will keep a watchful eye on them?”
“But of course,” she smiled, fanning herself. “They can help rebuild their country and rebuild their own reputation. A period of say... three years should suffice.” She looked at the General who looked thoughtful and then nodded.
“It is done then,” she nodded to Waters.
Waters looked mulish but turned to go. Ryans walked with him to the door. Both men knew three local years was a long time, the equivalent of six Terran years. But at least the men and women would be fed and kept alive.
“What would you have them do? We can't force the natives to change overnight Master Sergeant. At least we're keeping them alive,” he murmured.
The Sergeant gave a tight nod as his jaw tightened. “And we're giving them an education. Right. Got it,” he said gruffly. He walked out as Ryans paused at the door. He shrugged and then walked back to Deidra and the others.
<==={}------------>
Max smiled as the first truck rumbled into the garage courtyard. Now that the Duluth army was a thing of the past they could get down to more important things. Like building and maintaining what they had.
Galloway had secured the hidden caches when he had arrived, using the construction equipment to rebuild and reinforce the wall. Now that the war was over the tractor trailers had been sent out a week ago to pick up the remaining gear. They'd made good time and returned fully loaded.
He wasn't sure what he was going to do with the reactor. He wanted to set it up in the capital but Ryans was reluctant. He wanted the natives to have their own locally made power sources, not reliant on the gaijin for some strange reason.
“Easy with that lads!” he called, watching nervously as a pair of men unloaded the Torchmate CNC machine from the back of the truck. It had been a last minute addition, really a luxury, but something that could prove its worth in whatever precious substance he wanted in the next coming months.
Another group was hauling out the seventy ton hydraulic press. The thing was a brute; they were using a portable shop crane that had been rigged to handle the gun carriages.
“What does this do?” Sung Li asked, pointing a long finger to the press.
“Hydraulic press. With that we can do all sorts of stamp work,” Max explained and then grinned. “I'll show you when we get the machine shop up and running. We've got to rewire some of it; these babies need a lot of juice.”
The Asian woman grimaced and then nodded. “I look forward to it.”
“You think the press is cool, wait till you see that Torchmate in action!” he laughed, pointing to the table and boxes of parts the men had stacked near the back wall. “With that we can make stuff in minutes!” He was grinning, hands on his hips. He couldn't wait to get all the shop stuff set up.
“Well, we can just as soon as you get your fat ass out of the way that is,” a worker grumbled as he wrestled with parts from a drill press. He dodged, then decided to pitch in.
“Hurry up!” the driver yelled. “I've got to refuel and make the run to the mine. The shift manager's been chasing the lord around since we missed the last pick up,” he said. He waved a packet of papers. Max grimaced and then shrugged, not his problem.