Cooper tried not to think about one of his expensive wagons falling into the river below. “And if it does fail, where should we meet?”
He drew his finger over the map in the middle of the plains. “I know there is a road about here that runs north to south. That road is what I’m going for. When I get there, I’m going north to look for the city that’s supposed to be there. Like I said, if you have to find another way across, you’ll have to hurry to catch us.”
“Let’s hope that will not be a concern,” Cooper said dryly. Leaning out the window, he called, “Chernault! Start getting your tractors over, one at a time!”
Tayan watched anxiously as the first tractor lurched forward. It chugged up the incline, billowing smoke. Partway up, one rear wheel spun on crushed bushes, making it fishtail. The driver straightened it out and continued to move along the bridge, crushing brush and small trees. It made it to the other side and chugged down the far ramp onto dry ground. Cheers went up as it pulled over to wait for the others.
Cooper clapped his hands together. “Ahh, yes!” Leaning out the window, he called, “Chernault! Let the tractors with wagons behind go over!”
While the others watched the progress of the tractors, Tayan watched the bridge. He picked landmarks on the other side and lined them up with the edges. When the tractors passed, the bridge didn’t sag like he was afraid it might.
One by one, all twelve tractors crossed without incident. Each had followed the path of the first; parallel lines of bare rock showed where the wheels had gone down the center.
Russ Ironwright, the driver, and Captain Stark came up from below. Stark smiled broadly as Russ took hold of the levers that moved the steering wheels. “We are ready to cross, M’lord,” he announced.
General Cooper left with a salute. “See you on the other side.”
Tayan waited until Cooper was about to climb into the last wagon then he nodded. “Captain, take us over the bridge.”
“Yes, M’lord.” Speaking into a horn-shaped tube, he called, “Steam to wheels!”
“Steam to wheels, aye!” came a hollow reply. “Steam is set to wheels.”
“Low gearset, ahead full pressure!”
As the reply came back, the battlewagon began to creep forward. Stark pointed at the middle of the bridge. “Driver, straddle the tractor tracks.”
“Yes, sir,” Russ replied. Concentrating, he moved one lever then the other, lining the wagon up.
The wagon picked up speed as it rolled towards the ramp. When it hit and started up, Tayan listened intently. The chugging and squeal of metal was loud, but he thought he heard stone breaking underneath. Going to the outside door on the left, he swung it open and leaned out, watching the machine’s progress. Below, all he could make out was the vegetation being snapped off and crushed by the massive belted wheels. The actual roadbed was under a thick layer of dirt--even if the stone below was cracking he wouldn’t see it unless a large gulf opened up. By then they would be dropping into the river.
He kept watching for any sign the bridge might be giving way as they leveled out and began crossing. Occasionally, he heard a loud pop, but he couldn’t see any signs of damage to the bridge. They passed the halfway point, and he began to relax. The view was incredible; he could see a good distance downriver. The trees at the banks were so full they dipped their branches in the water.
He was watching the far bank where the side of the weed-infested road was lined with wagons and tractors when he felt, rather than heard, a loud cracking. The wagon lurched to the right.
“We got a hole!” Russ called. Frantic, he hauled on the steering lever. The wagon righted itself then tipped again and slid back towards the hole.
“Keep going!” Tayan barked as he ran to the other side. Stark had already seen and was shouting orders down the tubes to increase speed.
Out the right side, Tayan saw a clean sliver of bridge had fallen away. They rode on the edge of a hole only a few feet wide, but a third of the bridge long. The edges of the hole showed raw ends of rusted steel bars that had been sunk into the stone. It also showed one of the stone beams popping out a spray of rock chips.
“Move this beast!” Stark yelled down the tube. “Driver, ease away from the crack onto solid bridge.”
“No!” Tayan countermanded. “We are over a support beam--move and we’ll fall in!”
Russ, wide-eyed with fear, looked at Stark. “Captain?”
Stark screwed his face up. “Stay this course,” To Tayan, he said, “I pray you’re right.”
The bridge snapped out chunks of rock into the river; and on passing over the last piling they felt a slight drop. Finally, they moved down the ramp and onto solid ground.
Tayan moved to the open door. “Let me off then go to the end of the line,” He climbed down the ladder; and as soon as the machine slowed enough, he jumped off and ran towards the bridge.
Knots of people were gathered, looking at the underside of the bridge. Tayan ran up to Sir Parson, Amber and Ellie. He made his way to the bank and got a look.
Where the battlewagon had crossed, the beams underneath were spider-webbed with cracks. Here and there, small pieces of bridge still fell into the water.
“Most of that happened when you came across,” Amber told him as she gripped her talisman of Leighna. “We were sure you weren’t going to make it.”
“It didn’t look good,” Sir Parson agreed.
Tayan went down the bank and got under the bridge. As he suspected, the other beams were intact, only the two they had traveled on were damaged. He studied the structure closely then ran back.
“Ride over and tell General Cooper we can get two more across,” he said between breaths. “One has to stay to the right, the other one to the left. Have them mark where the supports are, and move directly over them. If they move off the supports, they’ll end up in the river.”
“Understood,” Sir Parson said and ran to his horse.
Tayan looked around the people gather by the bridge. “We didn’t bring any wizards, did we?”
“No, M’lord,” a knight said.
Cursing his own short-sightedness, he decided he would watch the bridge closely. Every wagon that was left behind would have a long way around to travel. That thought was less troubling than the idea of watching them fall into the river. It was tempting to just send the others back now, but he was fairly sure the bridge could hold another two.
Amber stood beside him as the next wagon began crossing. He held her hand out of habit, gripping it as if this alone would see the wagon safely across. The one coming over was on his left, the upriver side. The supports popped as it came on, and every now and then bits of rock would fall into the water. He held his breath as it passed the halfway point then the two-thirds point where it passed over the piling on this side of the river. The bridge was shedding pieces of stone, but it was holding together.
The wagon started down the ramp, and there were a series of loud bangs and snaps. The left side of the ramp broke free, and the wagon dropped. His scream accompanied others as it fell in a cloud of dust then hit the bank, still atop the broken slab of bridge. Steam escaped from view ports with a whooshing sound. Inside, men screamed in pain as steam filled the interior.
He ran towards the stricken wagon. On the top, a door flew open and men piled out, trying to escape being cooked alive. A mob gathered around and began helping those they could. Tayan counted the red-skinned, scalded men. There were twelve to a wagon crew, and all he could find were five.
Amid the clouds of steam, he leaped onto the hot metal casing to help the few who still screamed from within. When he grasped the main hatch in the cannon turret his hands were burned. He let go with a pained yell. Hands grabbed him and pulled him off and away from the dying men inside.
Major Chernault was beside him, guiding him away from the destruction. “We can’t help them. They’re dead.”
Tayan listened. He heard only the moaning from the men on the banks and the yells of
priests as they called for water and bandages; there were no more screams for help. The steam now billowed out at a slower pace. Nothing lived inside it.
“Damn!” he bellowed, clenching his raw fists. “That’s it! The others go back!”
“M’lord, we have to pull the wagon up and re-man it,” Chernault told him.
His first thought was to leave it. It wasn’t a battlewagon anymore, but a steel coffin for those poor men. On the other hand, he would not want to be left in a wreck like that.
“Get it cooled down and bury those men properly. No crossing except on the right side, by foot or horse.”
“Yes, M’lord.” Chernault bowed then left to do his bidding.
He sat down hard. He had gambled with the lives of those men and lost. If he had shown more discretion, they would be headed north now, not burned alive. He had caused this waste of life.
He noticed Ellie as she did her best to wrap his hands. Seeing her struggle with one hand and her stump, he helped her cover his burns. She had no more than finished when Amber was beside him and spoke her words of prayer that healed his bubbled flesh. The lack of pain felt great, too great. He should be suffering, like those men.
“We all know the dangers of the wagons,” Chernault told him. “Our engineers think we can shore up the remaining bridge and bring the others across.”
“How long?”
“It will take the rest of the day at least, maybe into tomorrow. It will also take time to pull that battlewagon up where we can repair it.”
Other than the steam that had poured out of it, Tayan could see nothing wrong with it. “Is it broken?”
Chernault began to rattle off possibilities. “One boiler is ruptured for sure, possibly both. All the piping will have to be checked, and a drop like that most likely damaged the steering gear. If you look at the middle cannon it’s drooping, so the elevation gear is either bent or torn loose by the fall. We can operate without it, so that isn't a priority. I’ll have my men check the wagon out thoroughly. If it is damaged too badly, we may have to strip it for parts.”
The promise of a fast trip across the plains died as he thought about how long they would have to sit here and wait. “Get started and inform General Cooper.”
While Cooper’s men took care of the bridge and the wrecked wagon, Tayan ordered camp set up. He had Sir Parson scout ahead with a few of Cooper’s men so that once they were ready to go the path would already be laid out. A tractor went with them to uproot trees and make the road as clear as possible.
Tayan’s quarters were in half of one of the towed steel wagons. Steps in the front led to a regular door and a room inside as well appointed as any palace guestroom. The rough, steel-framed windows were cover by heavy green curtains. The carpet was lush thick pile, and all three chairs in the sitting room were upholstered. He went to one and sat down heavily, resting his head against the back to stare at the ceiling.
“I should have had the bridge reinforced first!” he groaned.
Amber slid into a chair by him, much more smoothly. She reached over and tapped the back of his hand until he looked at her. “You didn’t know it couldn't take the weight. We all thought there wasn’t going to be a problem.”
“I should have made sure. What happened out there was my fault.” Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, he said, “I don’t know enough about these wagons to make decisions like that.”
Amber turned to Ellie, who was standing by the door. “Ellie, would you get us some lunch, please?” Ellie left, and she turned back to Tayan. Softly, but firmly, she said, “After lunch, why don’t you get into a battlewagon and find out how it works? By what I heard we have a couple days.”
At times she seemed to have the simple wisdom that he somehow lacked. He looked up at her. “That is exactly what I plan to do.”
Tayan told Captain Stark he wanted to be worked like any other crewmember, and Stark did just that. He was put in white cotton overalls and went through every task in the wagon. The first was filling the boilers. He had no idea what a valve was; but by the end of the day he had turned every one at least four times. In the cramped innards of the wagon, he worked the hand pump that pushed air into the water storage tanks then watched little needles with marks on them called gauges to make sure the storage tank pressure was above the boiler pressure. Otherwise, water would flow out of the boilers and not in. He hauled wood and pumped the bellows to keep the sides of the firebox glowing. The work was hard, and became more challenging as the wagon moved. He learned to keep his balance despite sudden shifts while working continuously. At the riverbank, he hauled buckets of water to fill up the water tanks then opened and cleaned a large piece of pipe with a screen in it called a “filter.” By the end of the day, he knew what it was to be a “boilerman.” He was sure he knew everything that went on inside the wagon, but the grin of the crew chief told him he wasn’t even close.
At the end of the day, Tayan slogged into his sitting room, exhausted. He took reports in filthy coveralls that once had been white. Ellie was aghast at his condition; Amber just grinned and asked what it was like to be working class.
The wagon sitting in the rubble of the bridge ramp was in bad shape. He understood when they told him that the boilers were ruptured, as well as one water tank, and that the left side feed pump was broken. He heard the bearings in the wheel engines were also gone, and the steering gear needed all new rods. He hadn’t seen these yet, but he was sure he would tomorrow. The overall opinion was that the wagon could be repaired in three days.
News of the bridge wasn’t any better. The ramps were being shored up with block and timbers, but the main span was too long to do anything with, and the river too deep to build more pilings in less than a month. Cooper came up with the idea to gut his wagons and tow the hulks across the bridge then reassemble them on this side. Again, this was a week-long task, further delaying them. The trek upriver to the beginnings of the Jude then back down the other side to meet them was also a week’s travel, if not more. Adding the possibility of another wagon’s getting stuck, this time with no smith wagons to repair it, it made the trip more hazardous.
Taking the lesser of two evils, Tayan had Cooper start dismantling the wagons on the far side. Since they were stuck here, he ordered an area of forest leveled to build a temporary fort.
The next day he became a gunner and spent the day in the hot, sweaty turret, operating more steam and hauling rock. Ellie insisted on coming with him and ended up as the cannon sighter. To his surprise, and that of the other gunners, Ellie had a dead eye when it came to aiming the big barrels. After an hour’s practice, she was able to point the gun as accurately as the other two sighters were. It took her a bit longer to be able to call out the rotation and elevation, which was met with some mirth. Soon she was lining up shots at five hundred yards and landing them within feet of where she wanted them.
While Tayan learned one job then moved to another, Ellie kept perfecting her gunning skills. By the end of the day she won a bet by shattering a tree six hundred yards away with a single volley.
She tried to play down her accomplishment as the news spread. Every day thereafter, while Tayan went to other laboring tasks, Ellie sat in the cannon turret, angling the barrels higher and getting longer ranges with more precise hits. In a few days, she was telling the other gunners how to “read the feel” of the way the wagon sat and watch for wind direction.
On the fourth day, the wagon that had dropped with the section of bridge was proclaimed ready to operate. The captain of the wagon and his second stood beside it with the other three survivors, ready to climb back in without a second thought. In gathering a new crew, General Cooper offered the lead gunner spot to Ellie.
Ellie shook her head. “I belong to Tayan,” she told him.
Tayan suddenly came up with a great idea. He put his arm around her and gave her a smile. “That is just what I want you to do, be the lead gunner for Captain Angler. You're too good not to be.”
&n
bsp; Ellie frowned at him. “You’re giving me away?”
“I never said that. I’m going to be up in that command shack, and I want the best sighter guiding those cannons. You do your job, and take the money Captain Angler gives you.”
“Yes, Tayan,” she said tentatively. “I am still yours, right?”
He nodded. “Don’t worry about that, just get up there and be the best gunner you can be.” This was a golden opportunity. He only hoped that she wouldn’t have a hard time being accepted into the crew.
“Yes, Tayan.”
His concern about the other men putting up a fuss about having a Slavonic woman as a sighter was unnecessary. They accepted her without question. Most seemed eager to have her in the wagon with them. Tayan rode with them as they worked the wagon through drills and found that with Ellie on board they worked that much harder to perform flawlessly.
The other battlewagons had been dragged across and were being assembled a little quicker than the original estimate. They decided to have a feast to mark the occasion before moving on. On the day the last wagon was declared ready to go, boards and stumps were made into long tables, and fresh meat was hunted for the fire pits. Someone even came up with a keg of ale.
Tayan sat between General Cooper and Amber as the head priest gave blessings for the meal. Ellie sat on the other side of Amber, wondering why she wasn’t serving. Over her gray slave clothes, she wore the brown coveralls of a gunner. Once the long prayers of thanks and hopes of victory over evil were finished, they dug in.
Right after they started eating, Ellie leaned over and held out her hand to him. “Tayan, these are yours.”
He took what she held out without thinking. Seeing the five silver coins, he asked, “Why did you give these to me?”
“Captain Angler gave them to me for being lead gunner. They are yours,” she explained.
He looked at Amber for help. She picked up her plate and stood. “Ellie, switch seats with me.”
Ellie slid over. Beaming Tayan a smile, she said, “I understand now--you have me be the sighter to get money. That is very clever.”
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