“I don’t think I’m going to give command of the armies under me to someone I’ve just met,” said Taylor, his eyes flaring. “I am the ranking NATO officer in this area, and I intend to exercise command until I am removed from that command by the designated authorities.”
“We are not in the lands of NATO anymore, if you haven’t noticed, General,” said Jackie, speaking for the first time. “And I doubt you will be able to reach the designated authorities anytime soon, if at all.”
“You are still an officer under my command, young woman,” said the General, glaring at the Lieutenant.
“I could resign my commission,” said Jackie, sticking out a petulant lip.
“We are under martial law,” said the General in a low voice. “I will not permit an officer to resign from the army. I would be in full authority to have you executed if you attempted to leave the army.”
[That would be a very bad idea, General Taylor,] thought Levine on a powerful sending that the General thought would knock him from his chair. [I do not wish to exercise my abilities to the point of harm. But this young woman is not to be harmed. She is under my personal protection.]
The General wore a shocked expression on his face for a few moments, cradling his head in his hands as his brain throbbed from the assault for a moment.
“And you might run out of ropes or bullets if you attempted a standard military execution, General,” said Kurt with a cold smile. “You would have to execute us as well.”
Taylor looked coldly at the two men, his brows narrowed. Then he offered a short laugh and slapped his hand on his makeshift desk.
“I am not a despot,” exclaimed the General, “though I am in position to be one if I wished. Eventually we will have an elected government when this crisis is passed.”
“Or a kingship,” offered Levine.
“Or a kingship, Empire, Oligarchy, Democracy or Republic,” agreed the General. “Whatever the people want. But right now we can’t afford to dick around with changes. I have a war to fight so that we might survive and prosper on this world. And I would like the cooperation, even the eager aid, of you three.”
“And what would you ask of us?” said Levine, smiling at the officer. He could see that the man was truly a good leader. He might be a little bit over his head at the moment. But he was calmly making the best of it with what he had. And he exuded confidence to those who were under him. There would be no panic under this man. The soldiers would do their jobs without complaint, or as much without complaint as soldiers were capable. The people would work hard to support this man. Kurt and the prophecy could wait. They had the time.
“Well, first off, I would like to develop a military model that allows me to defeat these people we find ourselves fighting,” said Taylor, nodding his head as he counted off on a finger. “From the reports I have so far these people fight without real discipline or order. More or less a shield wall at most, and in many cases a general charge and melee. I think the Romans had the secrets we need to defeat them. The discipline and strategy, and the ability to turn city boys into warriors in the shortest possible time. And I think that you, Mr. Levine, will have insights into these matters that will help us immeasurably.”
“I don’t know if aping the Romans is really the answer,” said the Ancient Jew. “They had trouble with archers and horsemen, of which these Ellala seem to have aplenty.”
“I want to ape their discipline and general structure,” said the General, nodding his head. “But I’m willing to incorporate any other ancient weapons and organizations that might fit into that structure. Hell, if I had fifty thousand expert horsemen who could shoot a bow from horseback I’d ape the Mongols. But it would take twenty years to develop a force like that, and I’ve probably got less than a year.
“So I need you two to help me organize my forces and formulate my strategy,” continued the General. “And get me the mercenary or allied forces I need to build a balanced force.”
“And our ranks in the command structure?” asked Levine, his eyes appraising the man that sat before them.
“I figure Brigadier General for the two of you,” said the General, smiling. “With all the privileges and responsibilities that go with that rank. You said you were a light colonel in the Great War, Herr von Mannerheim. So that’s an increase in grade.”
“We would want our young colleague to work with us,” said Levine, nodding at Jackie. “She has much to learn about our kind, and would be wasted as a Lieutenant in the regular forces.”
The General nodded his ascent, jotting something down on a pad of paper. He looked back up at the men.
“I also need you to lead the fighters that we will have in place after the modern weapons stop working,” said Taylor. “I will have commanders for the fully trained units, but we will need a stop gap of marauders before that. I think that you will be of great use to us as reavers yourselves. And as diplomats to these other peoples, whose goodwill and aid we will need.”
“You really think that we will win a place on this world?” asked Levine. “Prophecy or no prophecy? You think we can win out on this world, despite our lack of magic?”
“We will have magic,” said the General, nodding. “That is our Manhattan Project. I have our most brilliant people on it, and we will hire those we need from the other peoples to aid us until we can develop what we need.”
[I think we have our military leader,] beamed Kurt to Levine on a private thought band.
[I think we have the leader we need,] thought Levine, [while we organize ourselves on this planet.]
“We will be glad to serve in any capacity we can, General Taylor,” said Kurt, blowing the smoke of his cigar out of his mouth while talking.
“Even though you will not be King?” said the General.
“Oh, he will be King,” said Levine with a wink. “We have many centuries ahead of us, me and my friend. We can be patient. Our time will come.”
“Maybe so,” said Taylor, nodding, “but I have something of immediate concern right now, so I can’t worry myself with that at the moment. What do you gentlemen know about Lycanthropy? I understand that when the major moon rises tonight we’re going to be introduced to a wave of shape shifters, and we need to be ready for it.”
* * *
“Take what you want, my dear,” said General Taylor, gesturing toward the piles of armor and weapons that lay under the open tents. “Or should I say, Major.”
Jackie’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the gleaming armor. She didn’t know where to start, and looked up in confusion at her immortal partners.
“Let us help you pick out your wardrobe, Fraulein,” said Kurt, bowing.
Jackie felt her face flush as she looked at the giant German, who was very handsome in a blond knight sort of way. She nodded as Kurt and Levine looked over the armor. Finally Levine picked up a glimmering suit of chain which he held out, looked at the size of it as he compared it to the tall woman, then handed it over to her. Jackie gasped when she felt the suit, which could not have weighed more than ten pounds, but would cover most of her body, including her head. She shrugged out of her army uniform and looked at the clasps of the armor.
“This feels wonderful,” she said after pulling the armor on. At first it seemed a little large for her, but miraculously it adjusted itself to her body.
“It’s obviously enchanted in some manner,” said Kurt. “It should protect you well, while allowing you to use your speed and agility to its fullest.”
“But you said I would heal from most wounds,” said the young officer, fingering the light metal links in her hands. “Shouldn’t this armor go to someone who really needs the protection?”
“You, my dear,” said Levine, his hand touching the silk like gleaming metal of the chain mail, “are going to be an exceptional warrior. One whose abilities will be needed in the battle line. Plus, you need protection, so that you can fight, instead of laying on the ground waiting to heal. Lives will be saved on our side becaus
e you are still moving, still dealing death to our enemies. And, unlike our towering friend here, who can bull his way around the battlefield, you should take advantage of your speed. A light suit of mail such as this will allow for you to do that. Now, let’s see to a helm, boots and gloves.”
After another twenty minutes of sifting through the treasure Jackie was outfitted with a closed helm of similar material, though solid construction, of the chain mail, as well as leather gloves and boots with metal inserts to protect her extremities.
They then moved on to the weapons, and Jackie was drawn to a pair of matching sabers that sat in jeweled leather sheaths. She pulled one blade free of the sheath and was amazed at the sheer flawlessness of the blade, reflecting the brightness of the sun. She swung the blade through the air, wondering if she was imagining the flames that trailed the sword. She could feel the heat radiating from the wondrous weapon, and realized that this was something to kill the monsters she had faced the other day.
The other sword was as flawless as the first, though no flames or heat radiated from it. Instead she had the feeling of intense cold, as if the blade sucked all ambient heat into itself. She reached forth a finger to touch the blade.
“I wouldn’t,” said Kurt, cautioning the young woman. “I think you would lose that finger if you touched that hellish cold. It would grow back, but I still bet it would hurt.”
Jackie nodded her head and sheathed the blade. The sheaths must have been magical as well, as they cut off the effects of the weapons as soon as the swords were encased. The young Immortal strapped the swords to her body with the built in leather belts, one over each shoulder, the two older immortals helping her to fit them to perfection. She tested the draw of the weapons, pulling them from the sheaths and setting them in motion with both hands, then sliding them back into their covers.
“Ambidextrous?” asked Levine. Jackie nodded. “You’ll still want to practice a bit with the weapons. Even with equal dexterity the handling of two swords at once is tricky.”
Jackie last selected an enchanted dirk as a backup weapon, testing the blade that sliced easily through the metal of a truck’s bumper. She strapped the dirk around her waist using its belt, then stood in a pose for the gentlemen, who applauded her warlike appearance.
“Will you carry a shield as well, Jackie?” asked Ishmael, looking over at a selection of shields from targets to towers. “It might come in handy if you find yourself under an arrow storm.”
“I think I’ll go with the two weapons,” said the Major, shaking her head, then reconsidering. “I guess I can carry one across my back, just in case.” And she went about picking out a medium sized round shield.
“You’ll want a gambeson to wear under the armor,” said Kurt, “lest you become a mass of bruises. I know they’ll heal quickly, but it could still steal your concentration. I doubt you’ll find one here, but we can have one made for you fairly easily.”
[You want me,] came a voice to Kurt’s mind. [I am yours, my liege. I have waited for you for a thousand years.]
Kurt shook his head and looked at his two companions.
“Did either of you mind send me?” he asked, frowning at their shaking heads. He looked around the great tent. Men and women were still moving weapons into the area, putting them into piles that were sorted by their apparent quality. He looked the question at them, seeing if any were looking at him. Not getting a response he looked at the weapons, his eye lighting on a two handed sword that lay on a table, its jeweled sheath the price of his family’s estates in Prussia. He felt the sword calling to him, now that he could see it and confirm the connection.
Kurt walked over to the table, his hand grasping the gold wired hilt of the sword, his eyes staring at the large diamond set on the pommel, glowing with the light of the sun. He picked the sword up, his left hand grasping the sheath as his right hand grabbed the hilt.
“That thing burned the hell out of me when I grabbed it,” said one of the soldiers who was cataloguing the equipment. The man’s right hand was wrapped in a thick swath of bandages.
Kurt could feel no heat from the hilt. In fact the hilt seemed to fit perfectly to his hand, and he smoothly drew the long blade from the sheath. The blade was as flawless as any he had ever seen, with a perfect edge. The metal shined brightly in the sunlight, then started to glow with a light of its own.
“That is a God Blade,” came a soft voice from behind in a guttural accent. Kurt turned to find himself looking down on a short being, a Dwarf male, in the white raiment of a Priest.
“That is a God Blade,” repeated the man, his eyes looking reverently at man and sword. “A blade forged by the hand of Arathonia, one of her twelve artifacts. Only a great Paladin can carry such, and only he for whom the blade is fated. All others are harmed by the touch of the weapon.”
[And I am yours, my Lord,] came the silky voice of the sword into the mind of the Immortal. [I am Lenoris, Paladin Blade of Arathonia.]
[But I am not a Paladin,] thought Kurt, marveling at the lightness of the huge blade in his hands.
[You will do, my Lord,] came back the reply of the sword. [You are blessed by the Gods of Life, and they have named you Champion of their cause. That is enough.]
Kurt again sheathed the blade, thinking that this would be the start of a long and fruitful friendship.
* * *
Levine was feeling slightly put out that his companions had found such marvelous weapons. He wandered through the tent for some minutes looking over the selection, waiting for a voice to call to him. None came, though he looked at a number of beautiful weapons. Some had a slimy feel to them as he handled them, and one fairly radiated with an evil that made him sick to his stomach. That blade he pitched to the side and made sure one of the cataloguers made note of its evil feel.
Finally he found a large bastard sword, one that could be used as a one handed blade or as a two hander, sitting on a pile in the open corner of the tent. The pommel was seated with the ugly head of a Troll, for he recognized the resemblance to the creatures he had fought the day before. He pulled the weapon from its sheath and looked with delight at the blue blade and scintillating energies within the metal.
Levine carried the blade to the front of the tent, catching the attention of the Dwarf that had been talking with Kurt about his blade.
“Oh, that’s a Troll’s Bane if I’ve ever seen one,” said the knowledgeable Priest, handling the blade. “Truly murder on those big guys, they are.”
“That will do,” said the Immortal, taking back the sword and resheathing it, then affixing the big blade and sheath to his back. “I’m sure that will do very nicely indeed.”
* * *
“I would like you three to patrol the valley tonight,” said General Taylor to the trio, as other men went about arming and armoring themselves. A couple of Earth priests were busy blessing holy water, while the mundane blades of many swords sat in caldrons of blessed liquid, hopefully absorbing some of the divine effects of that fluid. A couple of men filled water pistols with the water, while more filled balloons and tied them off.
In nearby tents other men, along with some of the Dwarves, were melting silver and dipping rifle bullets into the molten liquid, while others were forming bullets from the pure silver and affixing them to pistol cartridges.
“We can’t be everywhere in this big valley at once,” said Kurt, gesturing toward the far mountains.
“Then cover the settlement areas as well as you can,” said the General with a frown. “I’m getting everyone we can get into fortified areas, but I’m afraid we’re still going to get dinged badly. But if we can hurt them as well, make them think about the wisdom of returning at the next full moon, it might be worth the deaths.”
“We’ll do our best, General,” rumbled the big German as he looked at his compatriots.
“And that’s all I can ask of any man,” said the officer, saluting his two newest brigadiers and moving away.
Chapter Six
“I wish, sir,” said the Private in his Birmingham accent, “that we could have stayed to the road.”
The jeep pulled to the side of the road, where all of the tracs and tanks were parked, along with the cavalcade of civilian vehicles. Soldiers were busy on the side of the road, piling up swords and axes that they had gathered in the previous days and finding various and sundry items the civilians had with them, including silver jewelry. Some of the silver was going into iron pots that sat over gas burners, reducing the precious metal to a liquid that would serve the army’s purposes better.
“I know that you wanted to get to the stronghold as fast as possible, Peters,” said the large Major to the man as he stepped out of the jeep. “I know it is nerve racking to be out on the tail end of the refugee column. But from what we’re being told tonight will be a slice of hell, and there is no way or manner in which we will get to the safety of the stronghold by tonight. If there is any safety there.”
Paul watched as the Padre, an Episcopal Priest who was the battalion chaplain, blessed canteens full of water, making the liquid holy in the eyes of the church. He wasn’t sure just how much use they would be here on this planet, but it couldn’t hurt. Paul pulled his sword blade out of the long sheath on his back and held it up in front of him as he approached the Priest.
“Would you bless me and my tools, father,” said the large man, dropping to his knees in front of the Priest.
The father looked a little startled that the Major, not known to be the most religious of men, would come to him. And there was also the superstition that seemed to be gathered around the Major after his observed fighting capabilities.
“Look, padre,” said the Major when the man hesitated. “We’re on a world with dragons, Elves, Dwarves and who knows what else. We could use all the help we can get. Now I have not been a good member of the church for quite a while. But I do believe in God, and believe that he can help us, even here, in another Universe. So can I have the blessing of that God through you?”
Refuge: The Arrival: Book 2 Page 7