by P. S. Power
Stupid King, thinking he was in charge...
"Right, thinking out loud... Three of us have flying-rigs, and we can all change our clothing, so if you see someone coming over the city wall, dresses in bright yellow and green, it's one of our messengers here." Almost as if he thought Tor was a little kid Cordes took over again. It was getting annoying fast, but he let it happen, since the man probably had a bit more experience in situations like this than... Well, anyone on the ground that wasn't another Ancient.
"Good. Smythe, I'm going to send in Will Sorenson first. The code phrase is 'Tor sent me' no need to make it too hard. The counter phrase will be, 'what's the word'. If either side says something different, break contact. Got that Will?" He turned to look at the wide eyed boy with his blond hair and fear laden body posture.
"I... Yes sir."
"That will give us a way to communicate, as well as this device. Now, give us a rally point?"
There was a bit of muttering, but a few moments later the older man was back, his voice calm, but whispered. "The bell tower by the north gate. In half an hour?"
Apparently that was fine, because Cordes didn't answer, he just turned all the way around and pointed to two of the others, both people that looked to be about sixteen or so.
"Names?"
The boy who'd pointed earlier swallowed but went first.
"Davis, sir."
"Emily." The girl was tall and plain looking enough at least, which wasn't all that important, but something that got noticed anyway in the moment.
"Alright. Davis, I need you to keep watch on the missile emplacements. Then find Sir Kolbrin and his people, the others that came with us, and communicate what you're finding. It will be dangerous. They almost have to try and kill you personally, so keep your shield on and be ready to hide if anyone notices you once it's light out. Emily, you have the other flying-rig, so what I want you to do is go with Davis and find Kolb, and then do what he says as far as running messages and what not. The rest of us will work support from here. Does everyone know how to fly?"
That was a great question, and it turned out they actually did, even though the younger two didn't have the equipment for it. Looking over to the south Tor saw that his place had changed into a plain looking brown cube, with no doors and windows only on the top. No one was going to easily get in there it seemed. It was brilliant of course. It also gave Tor an idea. He had a full sized magical house on him after all, and part of the east city wall was down, meaning that the invaders had to be planning to use that if they could.
He turned to the remaining two people, both girls who looked ready to wet themselves in fear.
"You two, names?" It came out sounding like the Ancient, but he was almost certain it was just him.
"I'm Melisa Bode, and this is Harper Long." The one that spoke was the younger looking of the two, and seemed to be the bolder one as well.
He explained the plan to them all, and then set down, kicking them all out, to try and do what was needed. Three were in the air moments later, but the two youngest ones, armed with only a shield each and a magical house, had to scurry away on foot. He got back in the air moments later, not watching to see what was happening. They might all die, he knew. Those rockets weren't a joke after all. He very well could have been sending the kids, all dressed in brilliant colors now, to their deaths.
It was getting close enough to daylight that Tor dimmed the glow of his craft, noticing that there were lumps on the ground a bit behind his position. Emergency shelters. He wouldn't have really seen them at all, if it wasn't for the fact that he'd made them in the first place. They felt like him.
That explained where all their people had gotten to at least. They were hidden, protected to an extent, and probably making plans. Hopefully they were also watching or poor Davis wasn't going to find anyone.
"Smythe? Still on the line?" Cordes spoke the words, but Tor had to wonder what line he was talking about. The voice from the unit in front of him didn't ask at least.
"Here."
"I have the messengers sent out. The troops on the other side seem to be moving now. Slowly however. They seem to be pulling the weapons platforms with horses. We need to take those out as soon as possible." There was an awkward pause, but not a long one. "I'll see to that. We'll try to engage away from the city. We have to assume that as soon as we do, the plans for the other attack at your location will begin. Probably explosives, given what they've done so far. Chemical would be my guess."
"Understood, when do you plan to act?"
"After you make contact with Will. Let me know when that happens. Communications silence until that time." Then he stopped talking altogether. Why that was Tor didn't know, but he was a little distracted by the Fast Carriage that rose from the ground, looking the same color as the earth below them, a tan with hints of red in it, heading right for him, if very slowly. It was a bit maddening, waiting for whoever it was to get near, but after a bit the vehicle matched his, being all clear on the top. Kolb was inside, but not alone. Tiera was driving it and Karen was in the back, holding several weapons, the wind blowing her hair just enough to be seen, which meant pretty hard, since she didn't have a lot to move around that way.
Tor made half the wall go away on that side, which was toward the river, so that he wouldn't instantly die if a rocket hit. It also meant he could keep the prisoners safe. More or less.
"Tor!" It was a manful bellow, since the bald Knight couldn't manage anything else and be heard. Tiera actually let the craft bump into his and then did something that linked them together. It was pretty clever, actually grabbing his vehicle with hers, making a lip on the near side that overlapped his. It wouldn't have worked if he hadn't dropped the wall though. Still it was something to keep in mind as far as combat went, wasn't it? They weren't tied to having a single shape at all. "We're getting ready to repel the attack."
Pointing Tor didn't bother to explain exactly what he meant, just waiting for the others to see the wagons in question. They were still moving, but were behind the battle lines that slowly moved toward them.
Behind them, along the wall, there was movement, as the girls got the house up, making it look like a thing from a homemaking class, easily fifty feet tall, and nearly as long as the wall of the city itself, which had to stress the field of the device a lot. It had limits as to how big it could get after all, and would be making the head of whoever was pushing it burn and ache a lot. After a few seconds it stopped looking like giant dolls could live in it and turned jet black, with no doors or windows at all. Then, almost as if there had been a debate, the thing started to glow, purple and gold.
The river behind it was just visible, making a dip downward were one of the stone plates had sunk into the rubble of an impact site. The plan had probably been to try and destroy it and flood the city. It was a good idea, but he'd designed the thing to be safe. If the field couldn't hold, the whole thing would shut off instantly. It would do some damage, but not the kind that having a vast river spraying all over the place would have. As it was the line of the floating water had changed, but it was still nicely up in the air, about five feet over the wall in most places.
Guarded now by what looked like a simple version of the Royal battle flag. That had to make the people wanting to invade feel good, didn't it?
"There, that should help keep them out. We have Smythe and some forces in the city ready to go. We need to take out the mobile battle platforms. Tor forgot to put anything useful on these things that way, so we'll have to do it the hard way. How many craft do we have here? We need ten."
Kolb looked at him and then shook his head.
"We have seven. I sent some out as scouts about ten minutes ago. We can wait for them to get back, but I told them to be comprehensive." There was a darkness to the words, as if it were a dire thing, but thinking about it Tor just shrugged.
"Then some of us will have to hit them twice. Then we use the craft to churn the troops. Let's see..." There was a soft voi
ce in his head then at least, instead of asking out loud, which was a bit more sane seeming.
'Tor, can you tell what kind of magic they have with them, if any? I know it's a bit far away for specifics...'
Far away, but doable, with enough focus. After about a minute he looked at the others and nodded.
"They have a few thousand magical weapons, some shields, I'd guess a thousand, and about fifty explosive weapons. The good ones. We're about evenly matched that way. They have the Austran weapons and we have the Fast Carriages. They have us on numbers so far. I think we can hold them, if they don't have the rockets anymore. This is going to be a mess."
His little sister spoke then, her voice a bit cheerful, given everything.
"Don't worry, this is my fight, just take care of the Austran magics and I'll see to the ground troops. Those colors look familiar. County Morris troops. Fools. No one will blame me for killing them now, will they?" She seemed pretty happy about it all.
Karen looked worried, but Tor shook his head, making her face fall.
It was premature though.
"No, we kill them as a group. No getting yourself killed alone. Use your Songbird to pass the battle plan. When the city bells ring, we go in. I'll take the center wagon, there. Try not to double up on anything. Then I'll recover and move directly to the next one over." He wished they had a map, which, oddly, Kolb pulled out of his shirt. It was a crude drawing, but he filled in what was where almost instantly. The man likes his maps.
As soon as he was done he looked at Tor hard.
"Now, what's a Songbird? Some new magic I haven't heard of yet?" The big fighting Instructor looked at him as if he'd been hiding information on purpose, which wasn't really true.
"Messengers. Dressed in bright green and yellow." Pointing he showed them were Davis and Emily were on the ground trying to communicate with someone in an emergency hut. "Those are yours. They have duties, the boy is supposed to listen to you, the girl is for your troops, under your command. They can both fly. You might want to collect them now. Ten bells. We move on the last one. If that doesn't work for some reason..."
Tor shrugged and smiled at his sister.
"If that doesn't happen, then when I go in, try to follow me?"
"Got it. Then we kill them all?"
It sounded so sweet and innocent coming from her, even though it was clear she wasn't afraid at all. It was a bit like a little kid asking if they got to have sweets after the meal.
"Then we kill them. Try to leave the commanders and take them prisoner, if possible."
They pulled back then, repeating that it would be ten bells.
After they approached the two frantically waving kids on the ground, Tor turned back to the communications device.
"Smythe, did you get that? On my command we need ten bells. Is that doable, do you think?" If needed they could arrange another signal after all. They had a little time, even though the enemy forces were moving ever closer. They were still a few miles off. Probably inside their weapons range however.
"Yes, I set that up already. We have your man Sorenson here. Give the word as to when you want to begin."
"We need a bit, Kolb and the others have to set this up on the ground first. They seem to be doing that now." They did too, with the Fast Carriage hopping from one place to another, with people suddenly running all over the place. They didn't have a signal ready to let him know when they were ready at all though. That was an oversight on his part.
He blamed Cordes. Mainly because it was funny.
There was no reaction at first, but after a few minutes he saw that all six of the Carriages on the ground had turned a light, sky blue, color. That probably meant they had drivers on board and were at least aware there was a plan.
Good enough.
He reformed his own vehicle and smiled grimly.
"You two hold on in the back, this could get bumpy. Smythe, I'm ready. Go now on the bells." He had to leave a small window open so that he could hear them, ready to seal it instantly on the eighth one.
Counting them out slowly, he did just that and on the ninth one, which he couldn't hear anymore, but thought he had the timing for, he slammed the control piece forward, heading directly toward the first heavy wooden wagon that he'd claimed.
As he did it he had a strange thought.
They were at war now. A real one. It was something he hadn't thought he'd be ready for when the time came, not really.
Then he didn't think at all for a long time, as the world exploded around him.
Chapter thirteen
It wasn't that he was in danger, though the rockets that managed to hit him did some damage as they threw him, and the people in the back, around. No, it was the fact that he knew people outside were dying at he repeatedly flew through their ranks that really concerned him. Hundreds died after he took out the two wagons he was supposed to, as he scraped the ground at high speeds, throwing dirt and dead bodies all over the place.
He wasn't certain, but he thought one of them might have flown into his window. A body that was. This one was in blue and green, so was part of a different force than the first ones he saw, he figured. That wasn't good of course. Tor had been told they had some weeks yet, before hostilities broke out. That, it seemed, wasn't correct at all.
At least two dozen of the Austran style weapons flew toward the Capital, most of them slamming into the new shield wall that the girls from the school had gotten into place earlier. Not all of the strange weapons did that though, a couple rose up and hit the flying river, which did nothing, and one went over that, making something in the city explode.
A few minutes later, as men died on the field left and right and the mobile platforms either were destroyed or ran out of cargo, things inside the city started to explode on their own. Bombs, no doubt.
Tor couldn't be spared from the external battle though. That was up to Smythe and the people inside the walls. He and the others on the outside had a job to do. Even if it was tempting to run off and try to help.
It wasn't as easy as all that, since many of the people on the ground had shields and most got the idea that if a Fast Carriage was coming at them, they needed to get out of the way. They were fast and people slow, so most just died, but there were survivors and many of them had devastating weapons, which meant that staying in one place for too long wasn't a great plan.
There was groaning from the back, as the passengers there whined about being injured, as if it weren't their own people that had done it? Jerks. He was hurt too, if not as badly, but Tor didn't complain about it, did he? No, he just kept flying, not even taking time to heal the wounds, because that would leave his section undefended.
After about twenty minutes of this, the battle line broke totally and the men ran away, mostly on foot, but a few hundred of them tried to move around the side, using military grade Not-Flyers. That was a mistake. They were all moving at least a hundred miles per hour. Using something that he'd designed. In fact he was nearly certain that he'd built them himself.
That meant, that when he stopped for a minute and focused hard enough to turn their shields and Not-Flyers off at the same time, they died. Really, there were probably only a few people in the world that could have pulled that off, Tor knew, so it wasn't as dangerous an idea in theory as it turned out to be in practice. It was like an army of ragdolls suddenly had taken the field. A few, miraculously, managed to get up. It took a few seconds for him to understand what was happening there, since no one would survive that kind of thing without a shield.
Unless they were in a combat rage.
It made a difference in battle for certain. A line that was largely scattered and running broke off, but hundreds stayed, using whatever they could to fight, even as Kolb and the others killed them, one after the other. A few managed to take down Fast Carriages even, though they all went back into the air after that, meaning the drivers were alive, if not uninjured. That was mainly done with various kinds of direct effect, Tor thought. One o
f the people on the ground was doing some interesting things with what looked like lightening, until one of the sky blue craft hit her so hard that there was a red cloud left in the air from the lady's blood.
It went on and on, even after about an hour when the soldiers from the flight school got there. They were the closest military group after all, and could move quickly, so it made sense. There were only about a thousand of them, but they were all well armed and had nothing to do but practice most days. That meant things wound down quickly after that. They pursued the men as they ran away, but most of them didn't have a lot of hope. After all, they were on foot, going up against people that could fly.
Most of them just died though. They were guilty of treason after all. Not that soldiers had a lot of choice in matters like that if their lords ordered them to do it. They were sworn to follow commands, even if they were illegal ones.
There had been no word from Smythe the whole time, since he was probably busy, but there were sounds of fighting and men calling out orders from the communications device, which meant there was combat going on in the city itself. That was probably the real battlefront. He wanted to run off then and try to help, but Cordes didn't let him.
'No. Think... you're job is to guard this front, the whole outside. Smythe is in charge of the military, get his people to help him and do your own job.'
That made sense, so Tor made the top of his vehicle clear again and started trying to wave to one of the flying men in their military black canvas. It only took about ten minutes for anyone to notice him. The man that finally flew over, his left hand out in front of him and holding what felt like a force lance in his right, looked... annoyed.
Tor rolled his eyes, after all, he wasn't exactly some peasant kid trying to ask directions.
"We need to get reinforcements into the city. The Military Counselor, Smythe of Westend, is leading that effort. How do we get that done?"
The man bobbed in the air a little, looking at the retreating forces and smoke in the distance from various things that had caught on fire. Another explosion from the city seemed to spur him into action at least.