Against the Tide tcw-3

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Against the Tide tcw-3 Page 27

by John Ringo


  “What do you think I should do?” Megan asked.

  “Ah, now it’s questions is it?” McClure answered, nodding his head. “Not so much ‘we must do this, we must do that.’ I think you should be having a quiet chat with Sheida, lassie. And then getting your pretty little butt to someplace safer than Dun McClure. But until then, we’ll fight for ye. They’ll nigh pass us until the last McClure is dead and gone. Hang on a bit.”

  He stood up and went to the door, leaning out into the corridor.

  “Get that heathen Baradur up here!” he bellowed into the hall.

  “Baradur’s one of the wee folk,” he explained, walking back over to the fire and warming his hands. “I captured him in a battle with one of their clans. He’s just been hanging around and eating my food ever since. I think I’ll foist him on you.”

  The door opened shortly after and a small, heavily muscled young man entered the room. He was dressed in skins and furs and had a sallow, yellowish complexion, a bullet head with a topknot of black, lanky hair dangling from one side and a flat face with bright eyes half-hidden by epicanthic folds. Instead of the straight swords of the Gael he was armed with a long, back-curved sword on his left hip and a similar knife nearly the size of a sword on his right. He bowed to the laird and Megan, standing silently.

  “Baradur, you’ve been eating my bread and salt for the last year,” McClure growled. “And I’ll have no more of it. I’m giving you over to the Key-holder for a servant. Serve her well or you’ll have me to face!”

  “Yes, Laird McClure,” was all the man said. He had a strange accent, light on the ears.

  “The wee folk are strange in their ways,” McClure said, turning to Megan. “But they’re bloody loyal. If he takes your bread and salt he’ll die rather than let harm come to you.”

  “I have neither bread nor salt,” Megan said, dryly.

  “You can owe me,” Baradur replied. He suddenly grinned showing a mouth full of bright, white teeth. “Although I’ll also want silver, mistress.”

  “They’re bloody mercenaries, really,” McClure explained. “Good fighters for all they’re small. Hardheaded, too. They don’t fight for New Destiny, though. Oh, and they don’t talk, so you can have a conversation around them and not worry about it.”

  “And I’m to take your word on that?” Megan said.

  “Well, you’ll have to, won’t you?” McClure replied, gruffly. “But you’ll find out. I’ll give you some peace for now. Keep Baradur with you, though. I’m fairly sure the castle is secure, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “Thank you,” Megan said as he left the room. Baradur looked at her for a moment, then squatted, facing the door.

  Megan took a breath and looked at the fire for a moment.

  “Mother, please contact Sheida Ghorbani and ask her to send a projection.”

  She had counted to ten when the projection appeared. Sheida looked much older than the last time Megan had seen a projection of her, shortly after the Fall.

  “So, Paul is truly dead,” Sheida said, looking at the girl. She summoned a virtual chair and sat in it. “And you are the daughter of my friend Joel.”

  “My father is alive?” Megan asked, tears coming to her eyes. Even after the contact she hadn’t been able to hope.

  “Indeed, he’s my head of intelligence,” Sheida said. “We had a message about you only… a few days ago? It had some details of your situation. We had a very hard time deciding whether to let the agent contact you again.”

  “What did you decide?” Megan asked, honestly curious.

  “To permit the contact,” Sheida replied. “It was pragmatic, but, we felt, necessary. Besides, there were problems with stopping the contact even if we’d chosen to try. In the end we decided to use you as an agent, despite the risks. All our worries for naught,” she added with a faint smile.

  “I had a hard time deciding whether to kill Paul,” Megan said. “I knew I could do some good as an agent. You’ve got no idea what I’ve learned. But my plans were so far advanced…” She paused and shook her head. “I… I really didn’t want to kill him. But I had to!”

  “Megan,” Sheida said, sternly. “You did well. What you did was the best possible thing you could have done for Paul. I’m not sure that it’s the best possible thing to have done for the world, but we can discuss that when we have you safe.”

  Megan nodded and shrugged. “Open up the teleport block and I’ll bring the girls over now.”

  “No can do,” Sheida sighed. “We’re only able to hold it because of a single vote by the Finn. He’s… too unpredictable to want to try the same route again. If I drop it for you, Norau will be vulnerable to penetration. We’ll have to send a ship.”

  “The New Destiny fleet is at sea,” Megan pointed out. “Somewhere not very far from here.” She paused and gripped her hair. “I have so much information in my head! I don’t know where to start.”

  “It will keep,” Sheida said with a soothing tone.

  “Not all of it,” Megan said, suddenly looking into the distance. “There’s a Destiny assassin on the Richard. He has orders to poison Duke Talbot and Admiral Chang. He might have done so already.” She looked out the window of the room into the darkness beyond. “I’m not sure what timing he was supposed to use.”

  Sheida held up a finger and looked distant for a moment.

  “I’ve sent an avatar to inform Edmund,” Sheida said. “And I’ll go ahead and track down the agent while I’m about it.”

  “The fleet has two targets,” Megan continued. “The main combat fleet is to attack Blackbeard Base and kill the mer-women and take the children. The invasion fleet is aimed at Balmoran harbor. Jassinte is sending an army over the mountains to attack Hind and try to draw off some of the forces from the Assam reactor. I know the route they’re taking. There are more assassins waiting for Edmund in Newfell. Celine has four new Change types they’re holding back for the attack on Norau. There are Change acolytes with the fleet thatÑ”

  “Hold on, girl,” Sheida said, waving her hand. “We’ll do a full debrief as soon as we can. I’ll send a ship from Edmund’s fleet…”

  “A carrier,” Megan said, sharply. “I want a carrier from the fleet. With a full battle group.”

  “We’re in the middle of a battle, Megan,” Sheida said. “We need all the carriers we have. We lost too many in that idiotic battle off the Onay Isles.”

  “If I’m killed at sea, what happens to the Key?” Megan asked. “If it and I go into the water?”

  “I’ll damned well feed you power to keep you alive,” Sheida promised, solemnly.

  “New Destiny has a device that can drop personal protection fields,” Megan countered.

  “Impossible,” Sheida snapped. “Mother would not permit it.”

  “She doesn’t have protocols to prevent it,” Megan said. “They’re nannites that create a quantum field that the PPFs can’t stabilize in. They only drop it for a few moments, but that’s long enough for a knife or a sword to get through. Not to mention water.”

  “God, we do need to debrief you, don’t we?” Sheida said. “Okay, a carrier. And a battle group. Edmund is going to go ballistic.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “You’re insane!” Edmund snapped.

  “Maybe, but Megan just saved your life,” Sheida pointed out.

  “He was going to use cyanide,” Edmund snapped. “In my coffee. I hate almond in my coffee, it’s nearly as barbaric as hazelnut. I would have smelled it. And I need every carrier, Sheida.”

  “The Hazhir is closest,” Sheida said, definitely. “Detach it to pick up Megan and anyone else she wants transported. Do it now, Edmund. That’s an order.”

  “Damnit!” Talbot snarled. “Okay, okay. Will do, my Queen. This is going to get people killed.”

  “Edmund, we have an additional Key,” Sheida pointed out. “Which means no more depending upon the Finn for low-margin votes. That will keep people alive. Send the message. Or do you
want me to?”

  “You,” Edmund admitted. “It will be faster and less prone to intercept or confusion. I’m going to be busy anyway, trying to figure out how to survive with a third of my combat forces gone.”

  * * *

  “Major Herrick,” the messenger panted as she threw open Herzer’s door. “Skipper wants you right away. She said to run.”

  “Look, knock or something,” Herzer said, rolling out from under Bast.

  “Sorry, sir,” the female messenger said, going red and then pale and shutting the door hastily.

  “Why me?” Herzer asked, throwing on his clothes. As he did he heard a cry of “All hands! Stand by to go about!”

  “I don’t know,” Bast said, leaning her cheek on one fist and making a moue. “Hate all this military stuff. Do this. Do that. Go here. Go there. But you’d best run.”

  “Sorry,” he said, as he tucked in his shirt. He leaned over and gave her a kiss, then hurried out the door.

  He took the lower deck corridors, which were filled with running figures as the crew poured up on deck, and then realized that the messenger hadn’t specified where the skipper was. He pounded down the officers’ corridor and gestured with his chin at the skipper’s door.

  “Skipper in there?” he asked the marine sentry.

  “Yes, sir,” the marine replied. “You’re to go right in.”

  Herzer knocked and entered the room at a bellowed: “Enter!”

  “You sent for me, ma’am?” Herzer asked, stopping in shock at the sight of Sheida Ghorbani’s projection. “Majesty?” he added, bowing.

  “We’ve been diverted,” Skipper Karcher said. “Her Majesty asked that you be present for the briefing. Your Majesty?”

  “Call me Sheida for God’s sake,” Sheida said. “Paul Bowman is dead. The girl who killed him took his Key and escaped to the castle of the Clan McClure in Gael. She has requested that she be extracted by carrier. You’re the closest.”

  “Good God,” Herzer said.

  “Sit, damnit,” Skipper Karcher said. “You look like you’re about to fall down. We’re…” she did some mental estimation. “We’re at least three days’ sail from the west coast of Gael if the winds hold. And there’s a Destiny carrier somewhere up there. They’re probably closer.”

  “That’s why I’m only telling you two,” Sheida pointed out. “She also has information that New Destiny can overcome personal protection fields. I want to make this clear. She is to be protected. Use any means necessary. Get her to safety. She has some other women with her, I’m not sure how many. Pick them up as well as anyone else she wants transported. Protect her as you would me.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Skipper Karcher said. “Where are we picking her up?”

  “Here,” Sheida said, summoning a holographic map and pointing to an inlet on the west coast of Gael. “The area is near the battle lines with New Destiny. And if they get wind of where she is, they’ll go for her with everything they have. This goes no further, understand?”

  “Understood, ma’am,” Herzer said.

  “Have you already changed course?” Sheida asked.

  “Before Herzer got here, ma’am,” the skipper stated.

  “Okay, here is some additional information,” Sheida said with a note of distaste. “The girls are from Paul’s… harem. He considered it a ‘breeding program’ but the first term is closer to reality. Herzer, I know that you have background in rape trauma. This is going to be the same and… different. I’m not sure what you’ll be dealing with, but Megan is probably going to be a little odd at first. Deal with it.”

  “Bast is here, ma’am,” Herzer pointed out. “She was one of the first ones to counsel Daneh. She’s very good. She knows what she’s doing in situations like that.”

  “Now that’s the first good news I’ve had in a while,” Sheida said with a tired smile. “Other than the fact that we have an additional Key. Well, that’s the orders.”

  “Are we to sail directly to Norau from picking her up?” Karcher asked.

  “I’m… not sure,” Sheida admitted. “Edmund really doesn’t want to lose you. We’ll have to decide that later. For now, pick her up then head in the general direction of Newfell Base. Oh, the invasion fleet is headed for Balmoran. I’m sending them a warning.”

  “Balmoran?” Herzer said. “Rachel is there.”

  “Oh, bloody hell,” Sheida said, then disappeared.

  * * *

  “Oh, now I’m supposed to put on my ground commander hat?” Edmund said. “Evacuate the civilians.”

  “It’s one of our biggest cities!” Sheida snapped.

  “And it’s big enough that it’s indefensible,” Edmund replied with a sigh. “If you won’t evacuate, send messages to have them build breastworks around the whole thing, if they have time. If they don’t then tell them to get the hell out of Dodge. I’ll deal with the invasion as soon as I’ve dealt with the fleet. The ground forces are to stand pat and delay Paul’s forces. My staff has the plans on that one. Second Legion’s in place, First will move to block them from passing up the river. There are defensive positions already prepared. Some of that ‘useless defense money’ we’ve been pissing away.”

  “Edmund, we have to try to hold Balmoran,” Sheida said. “That’s important. There’s too much invested in that town. We can’t see it all destroyed.”

  “They won’t have time to destroy it all,” Edmund said. “Trust me on this. Burn quite a bit of it, yes. Maybe loot some if we don’t trash their ships, yes. Destroy it all, no.”

  “Rachel’s there,” Sheida pointed out.

  “I know,” Edmund replied, his jaw flexing. “And she’s a medico with the combat forces. She’s not eligible for withdrawal.”

  “That’s… rather cold,” Sheida said.

  “She’s my only daughter,” Edmund said, as cold as arctic ice. “I could have sent her back to Raven’s Mill, where the townspeople know that a decent militia is a good idea. Where there are walls building. Where the cream of the Blood Lords would have been there to protect her. I sent her to Balmoran instead. That is for me to live with, Sheida. Understand?”

  “Yes, I do,” Sheida said, quietly. “How long until this is all over?”

  “Years,” Edmund said. “But if you mean this particular campaign?” He thought about it for a moment. “Seven days. It doesn’t really start for two more.”

  * * *

  “Doctor Ghorbani?”

  Rachel looked up from the chart she was annotating and nodded at the duty nurse to wait a moment. The young man on the bed had a face that was twisted with pain from his broken leg. He had fallen from a scaffold and broken his femur. At least that was what the chart said. The only problem was that he was complaining of pains from his hip and lower leg as well. He was in a large cast and it was impossible to examine the rest of the area. Not that there was much she could have done for a broken hip, but the ankle or leg could have been set if the PA on duty had waited to fix the femur until he was conscious.

  She noted that it might be necessary to rebreak the lower leg and then patted him on the shoulder.

  “I’ll give orders for an increase in pain medication,” she said. “In the meantime just try to rest.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the boy said.

  She nodded at the duty nurse and walked down to the end of the ward. “Yes?”

  “We just got told that Balmoran is where the orcs are coming,” the nurse said nervously.

  “Well, I guess we’ll have our work cut out for us,” Rachel said as calmly as she could. “I’ve upped Robertson to ten milligrams of codeine; make sure that the other nurses check his chart before they administer it and get him another five milligrams now.”

  “Yes, Doctor,” the nurse said.

  “Our job is to fix people,” Rachel noted. “Let the soldiers and sailors worry about where the damage is going to happen.”

  * * *

  Megan looked at the walls for a while after breaking contact with Sheida,
pinching her nose and furrowing her brow in thought.

  “Baradur, do you know where the rest of the women are?” she asked.

  “Yes, mistress,” the bodyguard said.

  “We need to go there.”

  Without a word the man stood up and opened the door, stepping through and checking the corridor. One of McClure’s soldiers had been stationed outside the door and Baradur nodded at him as Megan stepped through.

  “Where are the other women?” Megan asked the soldier.

  “In the women’s quarters by the kitchens,” the soldier said. “The laird said that you were to stay in the turret, mistress.”

  “We’re going down there,” Megan replied. “You can lead.”

  “Mistress, the laird said…”

  “Well, we’re going down there,” Megan replied, smiling thinly. “And you are going to lead. If the laird has a problem with it, he can bring it up with me.”

  “Yes, mistress,” the soldier said, turning down the corridor.

  He led her in the opposite direction from the main hall at which Megan looked over her shoulder and frowned quizzically at Baradur. The bodyguard just nodded and gestured down the hall.

  She hadn’t realized until this moment what a knife-edge she was riding. In the harem she had, more or less, understood the dangers. But here, in a the castle of a group of unknown, and unknowable, loyalties, she had to wonder just who she could trust. Even after reaching Norau she would have the same problems. Ownership of a Key gave the user a great deal of power, power that was desirable to just about anyone in this post-Fall world. She automatically had told the soldier to precede her but it wasn’t until they were walking that she realized she didn’t want him behind her. She had to wonder how much of that automatic paranoia was from her recent experiences and how much was from her father. And to wonder how much of it was valid. Their reception had been surprisingly friendly and the castle, despite the laird’s own paranoia, seemed secure.

 

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