Grantville Gazette, Volume 71

by Bjorn Hasseler

"Nate, you know that while I am your wife, and you have all my love, I also have a duty to my people. I am not like Hvishi and the others. I am The Raven Priestess, it is my calling, my blessing, and at times, perhaps, my curse, but it is who I am! I am expected to go into battle with my warriors, I have been trained for that since I was but a small girl! I know the custom seems strange to you, are there no women warriors at all in your future country?"

  Nate scratched his stubbled chin. "Well not very dang many, but yeah, there have been some, like Joan of Arc, I guess. Not so much in my time, but throughout history."

  "Throughout history . . . the preserved memory of times before your own, yes? And is not that where I come from, many, many years back in history?"

  Nate laughed then, despite himself. "Darlin', you are positively prehistoric! There's also something called myth, the old tales passed down from generation to generation about the great deeds of gods and heroes from long before history began. I would say that's more where you fit in."

  They shared a brief laugh at that, the concept of myth definitely being something their disparate cultures shared.

  "Alright my love, so you are the queen of the Amazons, and it's your duty to lead them into battle. I get it, but I have done a lot of things for duty's sake that I came to regret later."

  "All whose duty it is to serve others are bound to put their own needs and desires aside. It is a solemn charge, and I cannot forsake my people. The Raven Priestess must be seen at the front her warriors, in all her painted glory!"

  Seeing her stand there, hands confidently on her hips, her eyes ablaze with righteous fire, almost made Nate tremble, and wonder not for the first time if he was up to the challenge of being the swain of a genuine injun princess.

  "All right, fine, I couldn't stop you, anyway!" Nate raised his hands in defeat. "Just be careful, and don't let all that painted glory get herself killed!"

  She kissed him then, one of the long, luscious kinds of kisses that still set his head to spinning. When they eventually broke the spell, she was all business again.

  "Let us go and pick out my horse now!" she announced.

  Nate laughed, and folded his arm across his chest. Here was a battle he could win.

  "Uh-uh. Not this time, sweetheart of mine. There are barely enough for the men who trained on them. Oh sure, I know you could probably ride better than most of them already, but I want as many of those men in the saddle as I can get, they've earned their place there! You, my little crow, can ride along behind me, and don't get all bossy about that, because I am a bonafide general now, and it's generals who give the orders to the warriors, and that will include you!" He tried to keep a straight face. He had never had much respect for the generals he had served under, but now that he had appointed himself as one, the concept rather pleased him—especially if it lent any aid at all to reining in a wife for whom the term 'headstrong' didn't even begin to suffice.

  She looked at him for a long moment trying to decide if she could also win this argument, then let out a carefree laugh, stood up bolt-straight, and gave him a snappy salute.

  "Yes, Sir!" she shouted gleefully.

  "Oh, for the love of Mike, who taught you that?"

  "Oh, I know lots of people from the future, and I'm fascinated by the all the strange things they say and do! You must recall that you and Gonzalo were not the only ones to visit my city. I have had many teachers, and so I can speak your languages as I do. Now, General Tucker, may we please go visit the troops?"

  "Indeed we can. Milady?" He offered her his arm, trying to decide if she was the cutest darn thing he had ever seen or just the scariest.

  She took his arm as ladylike as could be, and they walked regally across the meadow to the paddock, proud of each other and their accomplishments. Nate thought of the holy terror he would be unleashing on the thugs who were holding Stone Wall Village hostage, and allowed himself a grim smile. He had to admit it wasn't just his charmingly bloodthirsty wife who relished the prospect of action. He would have preferred peace, but the enemy had moved on him and his first. They would pay for that, and it would be Nate Tucker handing them the bill.

  ****

  The Paddocks, Mesa Top

  T'cumu nudged his stout young mare Oklilinchi to the left, motioning to the men galloping behind him to follow. She was the first of the wild 'mesa cayuses' to be trained to the saddle, and now she led more of her kin, exuding a kind of fierce pride that the other animals seemed to catch. Nate and Gonzalo had often said that humans and horses were meant for each other, and T'cumu was a true believer. Turning to watch, he saw the group turn with him, albeit more slowly, the line growing ragged, then reforming as they returned to a straight course. They had a long way to go before they could achieve the precision that Nate and Gonzalo, both highly experienced horsemen, had taught him, but they had improved.

  They were approaching the targets now, and T'cumu made the hand signal to prepare to fire. Pulling his own longbow out, a weapon unfamiliar to him until just a few days ago, he notched an arrow and aimed at the first of the twenty man-shaped, straw-and-wood dummies grouped along the fence line still some thirty strides away. Breathing out, he let loose the long, flint-tipped arrow. It whizzed across the distance in a flash to embed itself deep in the first dummy's head. Turning back again, he watched each man take his turn; some missed their targets completely, but most scored a hit, if not a kill shot. One or two struck the head just as T'cumu had done, and he marked their names in his memory, intending to make them his captains, and set them to helping train the men in smaller groups.

  The concept of military ranks was new to the young warrior from Stone Wall Village, another idea that had come from some odd thousand years in the future. Like so many things that the cavalry man and the conquistador had taught their people, it made sense and worked just as well as they said it would, that crazy old wise-man be damned! The newly minted General T'cumu had been to war before, having in fact fought against some of the very men who followed him, allied now against a much greater threat: the world of the Cretaceous.

  The battles among the tribes he had participated in had been messy, disorganized, with many of the young men losing control and taking foolish risks against the wishes of their war-chiefs, usually ending badly for everyone. No more! He had chosen his men carefully, and had made his intentions clear: They would fight as one and win! T'cumu was utterly convinced that what they practiced today was truly a better way, the difference between a wild, half-aimed shot made in a rush and liable to fly astray and a careful, precision shot almost guaranteed to hit its target with deadly force. He was honing these men and their mounts into a weapon the likes of which his people had never seen and hoped it would be enough to free his former home from the invaders. If only he had more time, but they would ride out with the dawn, and ready or not, his men would put their new skills to the ultimate test. Despite the danger ahead, T'cumu grinned his bright, sunny grin, his heart leaping in his chest with joy. He was meant for this.

  ****

  The Tilted Meadow, Mesa Bottom

  They had assembled their force at the Tilted Meadow the night before, in order to leave in the relative cool before sunrise without having to navigate the treacherous switchbacks that wound steeply up the slide to the bridge. The four great chiefs stood together, watching the proceedings with confident smiles. Today Nate and Gonzalo had shed the comfortable buckskins their people had gifted them with in favor of the clothes they had first arrived in. Nate wore his dark-blue, wool US Army scout's uniform, but with the jacket unbuttoned and open in anticipation of the coming heat. His broad-brimmed hat was tilted at a jaunty angle, now sporting a long, jet-black raven feather. Gonzalo had donned his complete set of armor for the occasion, breastplate, grieves, and all, topped by his shining, gracefully-curved, crescent-brimmed helmet. The Spaniard looked to Nate as if he had stepped right out of the history books, which in fact, he had. Both men had made a point of wearing their dragon fang necklaces, the sight of wh
ich made their makers, Ni-T'o, and T'cumu, swell with pride. The two of them were almost unrecognizable beneath a thick coat of their traditional war paint, with feathers and beads woven through their long, dark hair, all lending them a demeanor of untamed ferocity. Both Gonzalo and Nate had seen men like these before, too often on the opposite side of the battle, and were damned pleased these magnificent warriors were on their side!

  Their newly-minted army, nearly three hundred in number, were all in good spirits, feeling confident and eager to use the tactics they had learned. The enemy force might be larger, but these men still had the advantage thanks to their horses and improved weapons—at least that was their hope. It was an all-volunteer force, and the proud young braves boasted and jested as to who would bring home the most glory to their people.

  Gonzalo smiled outwardly, but inwardly he wished he shared their enthusiasm. Whatever righteous zeal had filled him in the chief's lodge had dissipated into a sour dread for the carnage that was to come. He had seen much more of war than these young men had and knew that what they were embarking on was no game and that some of these brave souls were doomed to fall. He scanned their handsome, bronzed faces wondering who would return to the mesa and who would not. Crossing himself for entertaining such dire thoughts, he whispered a prayer on behalf of their fresh, new army, beseeching the Lord that they return victorious, with all unscathed. He knew the last was really too much to ask, even God in all His mercy would not stand between an unlucky soldier and the Angel of Death. He quietly took leave of his companions then, slipping off by himself into the deep darkness before dawn so as not to infect them with his even darker mood.

  Gonzalo, a man once tortured by his chequered past, had at last found peace among the Mesa People, and now, too soon, he felt that it was slipping away. Was it not enough for men be cast into a land of demons and be fortunate enough to survive as well as they had? Oh no, even here, surrounded by monstrous foes beyond comprehension, humanity must start up their stupid squabbles again, spilling the blood of their brothers and sisters on unspoiled ground, and over what? Territory? There was more than enough of that in the New New World, an entire continent, most likely an entire planet, empty save for the fell beasts, just waiting for man to go forth and tame this younger, more savage Earth's vast wilds! But no, that would be hard, it would mean work and sacrifice. Better to simply take the good things your neighbor has! It had been so ever since Adam and Eve had been cast out from Eden, and it was so here and now. Thus, weary Gonzalo found himself going to war again, and could only take solace in the thought that the Lord God was not yet finished testing him, and there were still sins remaining on his tally for which he must pay. This, at last, brought a faint smile to his face. He was a soldier again yes, but now he was truly a soldier of God, because this time he fought for something worthwhile, the future of his friends and adopted people. He would make sure to give them his very best today, and if he were to fall in the struggle he would at long last be able to face his maker with no stain of guilt on his conscience.

  It was still well over an hour before sunrise when Ninak-Mkateewa and the Raven Priestess stood up along with their various acolytes and followers and came together, their arms raising in unison, a signal for all to attend them. The falling out they had suffered previously seemed to be mended. For his part, the cantankerous old wise-man looked more sober and serious than anyone had ever seen him. All those gathered fell into a hush. A soft, slow drumming began, and the two luminaries began to dance together. Their movements were small and precise, unlike their usual exuberant gesticulations. A chant began, which was taken up by all gathered. Even Gonzalo, despite his gloomy mood, soon found himself humming along. Ni-T'o appeared beside him, and gently took his arm, leading him to where Nate and T'cumu waited with the horses. It was time. The four of them mounted up. The Raven Priestess, with a kind of curtsy to the rather subdued and solemn witch-doctor, moved away from the dance to take Nate's hand and leaped effortlessly up onto Poppy's wide, orange-spotted back behind him.

  They began to ride slowly away from the mesa, their forces falling in behind them; cavalry and foot soldier, horse and pike, and the deadly axes and blades of the Raven Warriors. After a while, they all looked back to see the now small figures of Ninak-Mkateewa and the remaining acolytes painted purple by the first brushes of dawn, still dancing, their drumming fading with the distance.

  ****

  Gonzalo rode at the head of the pikemen, a force that he had had the major hand in creating and training. He was now considered to be their general. He never used the term when referring to himself, he was a modest man, and leading these men into battle was simply a duty that he was most fit to perform. He had originally formed the group to defend the tribe from the great dragons that roamed these lands, and having to extend the lessons to facing an enemy army had not been to his liking; a necessity, yes, but he could already taste blood in his mouth, and it was as bitter as always.

  The men marched and rode in near-silence, at the request of their leaders. The area of Stone Wall Village was barely visible above the eastern horizon. It lay just beyond the top of a sheer cliff created by the displacement of a low range of hills by the brief occupation of a tumultuous deep that was doomed to wash away, leaving behind the Drained Sea. It was too far for their column to be seen from there, but sound tended to travel much farther than one might expect, especially across open flats such as these, so it was best not to chance alerting anyone of their coming.

  And so, it was all quiet across the wide, empty expanse, except the rustle of the breeze through the grass that had taken root there, covering the desiccated remains of stranded sea creatures, and the parched sands of the former sea bottom with ever-spreading patches of vibrant green. Bushes sprouted as well along the path, and some young saplings. Gonzalo smiled to see that some of these were fruit trees grown from the seeds Nate had cast about during their travels. What had once been an antediluvian sea teeming with strange life now knew life again, and it made the melancholy Spaniard smile a bit. Was that not what they were fighting for? The survival of their kind of life here in this eon of demons and damnation? He shook his head sadly. The men who had come here had brought along demons of their own.

  Nate could see that Gonzalo was troubled that morning, and knew his friend well enough to figure he knew why. There wasn't much to be done for it but to continue to encourage him and help him leave his self-imposed penance behind. Despite the drums and the camaraderie, there was nothing to be glad about in going to war, and no doubt this was part of the Spaniard's grim demeanor. He had always found a little levity was the best way to deal with pre-combat nerves, so he determined to try to cheer Gonzalo up. His wife had dismounted to walk with her warriors for a while, so Nate dropped back to where Gonzalo rode silently at the head of his pikemen. He brought Poppy in close to her beloved Flavio, the father of the foal that grew in her, and let them share an affectionate nuzzle while he jokingly knocked on Gonzalo's armored shoulder as if it were a door, a wide grin on his face.

  Gonzalo couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's antics and nodded.

  "Yes, come in, Sir." he said just above a whisper. They had ordered quiet from the men so it would not be good for them to be too boisterous.

  Nate grinned some more and pointed at the trees growing along the way.

  "Ah, yes, so I have the pleasure of Johnny Appleseed's company this fine morning. Your plan is proceeding nicely. I had been admiring your handiwork well before you arrived," Gonzalo told him.

  "This is just the start!" Nate replied in a hushed but excited tone, "Look, there's already grass growing as far as the eye can see! This here sorry mudflat is on its way to becoming a real prairie!"

  "Indeed it is. Alas that you had no orange seeds in your pockets, then this might indeed one day be a paradise on Earth, much like my long-lost Seville was." Gonzalo smiled sadly, in danger of slipping back into his depression.

  "Gonzalo, we have barely scratched the surface of this
world, this time. I will bet you that there are oranges growing somewhere out there, and we will find them! You will have your orchard yet, my friend!"

  Gonzalo couldn't help but smile at Nate's boyish enthusiasm, and realized that the Texan had probably twigged to his dark mood quite a while ago. He grew a bit embarrassed then at exposing his troubles and blew out a long gush of air, intending to send them away with it. He forced a hopeful tone into his voice, and said, "I do believe you are right, Nate, we will find oranges someday, and other wonderful things we have lost. And even if we don't, this world will have other, new delights for us to discover."

  "Indeed it will! I never thought I would cotton to those pine nuts the women gather from the big native trees, but now I find I can't get enough of the dang things! We've only just gotten started here. Hell, there's still a good third of the mesa left that we haven't had time to explore yet!"

  Just then a flock of birds flew by, low and in tight formation. They dodged and swooped and then climbed into the sky again.

  "Swallows!" Nate exclaimed a bit loudly, then clapped a hand over his mouth before continuing in a hoarse, almost-whisper. "Look, the critters that came through with us during the big shake-up are already spreading. This world is going to become more and more like what we are used to as time goes by. Which brings me to another thing I've been a-pondering."

  Gonzalo's bushy raised eyebrows asked the question, and so Nate went on, his voice filled with breathless eagerness.

  "Well, we have a lot of game animals up on the mesa. Some of them are a bit odd-looking, but they make fine eating, and I definitely prefer them to the taste of these big lizard critters down here! The thing is, there are a lot of people up on that mesa now, and it's a limited space. I'm getting concerned that we are going to eat up all that nice game until there aren't any left!"

  "Yes, much like Ninak-Mkateewa remembered horses when he was a boy, yet they were all gone by the time my people arrived on these shores. He claimed they were good eating . . ." Both men made a sour face at the thought of it. "Now I see why you and T'cumu took that hunting trip down here looking for four-footed geese and the like. You wanted to take the pressure off the mesa's hunting grounds."