by John Ringo
“I don’t have anyone to share it with,” Megan said, softly.
“Bast is the only expert we have available on rape trauma,” Herzer said, shrugging. “Daneh, Edmund’s wife, is probably the person you could talk to best, but she’s not here. Bast is. And you’ve been avoiding her.”
“You know why,” Megan said, turning away.
“Yes,” Herzer said, glancing at her again. “And you don’t need to.”
“So you say,” Megan replied, bitterly.
“Bast and I…” Herzer said, then paused. “I was about to say ‘we go back a long time.’ But we don’t, only a few years. Very… hard years but not so long, really, especially not to Bast. She has already told me that I’m lost to her.”
“Are you still sleeping with her?” Megan asked.
“Yes,” Herzer replied. “We’ve been sharing my bed. It’s barely large enough, but we’re used to that. Oh, you mean sex?” he asked, as if it was a surprise. “In that case, no.”
“What?” Megan said, looking at him again.
“No,” he said, turning to look at her. “I won’t say it hasn’t been tempting, but I knew it would matter to you. So did Bast. So… we took a reprieve.” He paused and grinned. “Frankly, I needed to build my strength back up anyway.”
“You didn’t need to do that for me,” Megan said, angrily.
“Did I not?” Herzer replied, tightly. “Megan, I have the, unfortunate, reputation of being a tomcat. I’ll admit that I’m not serially monogamous. Bast is, but I’m not. She’s fine with that. But the point is that I don’t fully understand women, but I understand them well enough. And I understand that there’s… something going on between us. If I said ‘Oh, well, we carried on regardless’ then that would, at the very least, hurt your feelings, would it not?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Giving up fooling around for a few days is not going to kill me,” Herzer replied. “I had to forego it for a year and a half one time because of the nature of a mission. And you are important to me. More important than any woman I’ve ever met…” He paused and shrugged. “Well, any woman that matters for this discussion. And you’re not fully healed, maybe never will be. I’m not stupid enough to think that I can jump right in your bed. Or that it will be easy even once we… get over this…”
“Yes,” she said, smiling faintly. “This. You’re not, at all, what I expected you to be, Herzer Herrick.”
“Oh?” he said, frowning.
“As I said, your name had come up. The Blood Lord’s Blood Lord. The most dangerous soldier the UFS has is another way of saying it. That mission you were talking about. Was that Harzburg?”
“Yes,” Herzer said, surprised. “It was.”
“You’ll be happy to know that you pissed people off at the highest level,” Megan said, grinning. “What I didn’t expect was a philosopher.”
“That I’m not,” Herzer argued.
“Well, then, a good field psychologist,” Megan replied, shrugging. “Someone who cares about the feelings of others. And understands them, which is stranger. A warrior, a killer, that was expected. Not this.” She stepped across the intervening gap and put her arm through his, leaning her head on his arm. “Someone I could love.”
“Oh,” Herzer replied, standing as still as if a bird had come to land on his outstretched finger.
“I think it’s okay if you put your arms around me,” Megan said after a moment.
“Speaking of a good field psychologist,” Herzer said, stretching out the arm she was holding and wrapping her into his side.
“Someone who has a girlfriend I really don’t want to piss off, come to think of it,” Megan said after a long moment’s silent communication.
“Bast has already let me go,” Herzer replied. “She told me so, bluntly. If it makes you feel any better, she’s in your corner. She apparently didn’t care for Paul long before this war. Anybody who… removed him would be okay in her eyes. Well, almost anyone.”
“What about us?” Megan asked, still not moving away from his side.
“She’s fine with ‘us,’ ” Herzer said. “She looks likes a teenager and sometimes she acts like one but she’s old, Megan. Ancient. She has had more… boy-toys in her time than it’s possible to count. Edmund was one, once upon a time.”
“Good taste,” Megan said, smiling secretly.
“Well, I hope so,” Herzer replied. “I’m… not perfect, Megan. I have many, many flaws and many things about myself I don’t like. From the point of view of ‘us’ I have some… issues which are going to be right pains in the ass for both of us. But Bast isn’t one of them.”
“What issues?” she asked, leaning back and looking up at him. From any distance he was a big guy. This close up he was just… immense.
“That’s… one of those things I have a hard time talking about,” Herzer replied, grimacing. “Especially since I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to… drive you away. Let’s get to know each other a little better before we talk about my problems, okay?”
She looked up at him again and then pulled out from under his arm, slightly, keeping her own arm on his waist, so that she could face him.
“Noooo…” she said, quizzically. “I don’t think you would drive me away. But I think it’s something we need to talk about if it’s worrying you that much.” She watched his profile for a moment as his jaw flexed and frowned. “You won’t drive me away, Herzer. We’ll work through it, one way or another. I promise you.” She felt him starting to move away and her fingers tangled into the back of his tunic. “Don’t even think of trying to walk away from me, Herzer Herrick. You can get some space if you feel like you need it, but don’t you dare walk away.”
Herzer looked down at her for just a moment then looked out over the water again.
“Let’s just say I have some of the same problems Paul did,” he ground out, his jaw flexing. “I just understand them a hell of a lot better. I’m a sexual dominant.”
“Oh,” Megan said, her eyes widening. She felt a flutter she’d almost forgotten existed and rigidly suppressed it. “That’s it? I was afraid you were gay or something.”
“It’s a problem, Megan,” Herzer said, looking down at her for a long moment and then back out at the water. “I’m experienced enough in general to only let it show with… ladies that have similar interests. Bast is anything but a sub but we do play the games. In fact, she was the one that got me over my… horror at it. And other things. I can play neutral but in a long-term relationship… it’s going to be an issue. Even if you think you’re interested, or are willing to be experimental, you’re certainly not ready for it now and may not ever be. And it’s something that we’ll have to watch carefully because of your experiences.”
“What if someone…” Megan paused and shrugged. “What if I was interested in that sort of thing before my experiences?”
“Doesn’t really matter,” Herzer replied. “Trust me. What you went through is going to have altered your responses no matter what. I’ve had more than one… girlfriend. Okay, lover. I’ve had more than one lover who was raped in the post-Fall period. Most of them were neutrals, a few were subs. All of them had major land mines that I had to tiptoe around. I don’t mind tiptoeing around the land mines, but if you think you don’t have them, you’re nuts.”
“No, I know I do,” Megan said, quietly.
“And when you trip a land mine like that,” Herzer continued, “the scarring is worse, in a way, than the original damage. Because of the addition of failed trust. Just miscuing, usually, but it comes across as failed trust. Especially since…” He paused and shook his head. “This conversation is going in some strange directions.”
“Keep going,” Megan said. “Especially since what?”
“Especially because of the nature of the dom-sub relationship,” Herzer said. “You know what I mean by dom-sub, in general, right?”
“Yes,” Megan said, making a moue. “Give me a little credit, okay
?”
“You just think you do,” Herzer said, frowning. “One of the aspects of the relationship is… probing mines. Pressing boundaries is the way it’s usually explained. The sub will get more from the play if you press at the boundaries. So does the dom, but I’ll skip that for now. But if you press the boundary too hard, or too far, it pushes the sub out of enjoyment and into fear and horror territory. Anything can do that and the dom has to be really careful to avoid it. With a woman who has been… has had scarring sexual experiences in the past, the reaction is that much greater.” He looked down at her and frowned, shaking his head. “I’m terrified of hitting your mines, Megan. I really am. I don’t want to lose you. I’m afraid to even touch you. I don’t know what will trip you. You don’t even know what will trip you. And, let me add, when you get your full powers as a councilor, I really don’t want to be turned into a frog!”
“I won’t turn you into a frog, Herzer,” Megan said, sliding back under his arm and snuggling into his side. “Maybe a newt. But a pretty one. With red spots.”
“Oh, thanks,” Herzer replied, grinning.
“The newt king,” Megan said. “King of the Newts.”
“Just what I need.”
“You really are different than I’d expected,” Megan said, leaning into him. “I’m glad that my love at first sight made sense. And I do trust you. We’ll have problems, I don’t know any couple that doesn’t. But we’ll work them out. Okay?”
“Okay,” Herzer said. “I’m glad. Love at first sight, huh?”
“Pretty much,” she replied. “I guess I’m just a sucker for big guys in armor.”
“You just like my dragon.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Prepare for air-ops!”
“Enemy flight off the port-quarter!”
“Well, Shar, it begins,” Edmund said, stepping out from under the dragon platform to look off to the east. The anti-dragon dreadnought had automatically changed course and now was coming into line on parallel course to the carrier, close alongside. Close enough that he knew the helmsmen on both ships had to be sweating.
“Better than three to one odds,” Chang commented as the first of the Silverdrake dropped off the crosstrees and climbed for altitude to engage the oncoming dragons.
“I don’t count that many,” Edmund replied squinting against the light. “I think some of them are going for the dreadnoughts.”
“That ought to be interesting.”
* * *
“UFS dreadnoughts at two o’clock,” one of the riders -signaled.
“They’re carrying troops,” Captain D’Allaird yelled to his second in command. “No anti-dragon frigates covering them.”
“Some of those damned Silverdrake, though,” Lieutenant Ringle signaled, pointing to the smaller dragons that were bearing down on them.
“Second division, go for the Drakes,” D’Allaird signaled. “The rest, bear on the dreadnoughts. Close in, they’re not rigged for anti-dragon defense.”
* * *
“You think they’d have gotten word,” Gunny Rutherford said, shaking his head as the dragons lost height and lined up for the close drop on the dreadnought.
“Every Cannae requires a Varius,” General D’Erle chuckled. “Or, more appropriately, every Agincourt requires the French. Prepare to receive dragons!”
* * *
“Message from Corvallis, sir,” the messenger said. His face was blackened with soot from the fires that had just been put out. The main-sails were going to have to be replaced but other than that the ship was fit to fight.
“Corvallis reports fires out,” Shar said, passing the message form to Edmund. “That firefighting system of Evan’s is a life-saver.”
“But they also report that their dragons had to turn back from the attack on the fleet,” Edmund growled. “And they lost nearly half their dragons.”
“I hope we do better.”
* * *
Sergeant Fink had wanted to be a dragon-rider from the first time she saw them. She had a normal fear of heights, she wasn’t insane, but dragons were the only thing in this Fallen world that gave any of the powers that had been lost. She had enjoyed high-floating, a form of hang-gliding, before the Fall. And she’d even thought about getting a wyvern or doing a full-flight mod. But that was before the Fall.
She’d joined the Navy because they told her that she could apply for dragon-riding. And she had but she hadn’t been accepted. Too many applicants. So she’d done her job and bided her time until, by luck as much as anything, she made it in. Now she spent as much time as she could riding. Some of the riders had gotten a bit burned out and there weren’t many that would take even the slow, boring, reconnaissance flights. But she would, any flight she could.
So now she was up, on a pleasant day, slightly overcast with high cirrus clouds. Winds were pretty solid but that just made the gliding easier. She had about another hour and a half to go before she was relieved, lying on the back of her dragon, banking occasionally to keep the fleet in sight while still staying as far out as she could to the southwest. Somewhere out there was the New Destiny fleet. With luck, she’d spot it before either she or her own ship was spotted.
Charoo rumbled in his chest and turned slightly to the south and she spotted what the dragon had. Regular splashes and the wide V of wakes. She turned and looked behind her and, sure enough, she was right into the sun from the New Destiny fleet. There was little or no chance that she had been spotted. She looked for their own security dragons but didn’t see any.
“Okay, we’ve got ’em,” she muttered to the dragon, banking it back to the north. “Let’s see if the lookouts are paying attention.”
She withdrew a curious mirror from a pouch on her harness and put the back to her eye. The mirror had a clear spot in the middle with a metal grid buried in the glass. The bright sun caused a small intensely bright reflection to form in the grid. By laying the reflection over the distant ships she could be sure the reflection of the main mirror was pointed at them. As soon as she had it aligned, she started angling the mirror so that it was reflecting towards them and then away, careful to avoid pointing at the New Destiny fleet.
* * *
“Commander Gramlich?” Captain Karcher said, dropping through the overhead and landing lightly.
“Ma’am?” the dragon said, getting to her feet.
“We’re about to start air-ops,” the captain said. “Be damned if I’m going to sit this one out. The New Destiny fleet is in range to attack. I’ve put out a mer team as a turning point. Get your damned wyverns in the air.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Take the Powells and head for the New Destiny fleet,” Karcher said, springing back through the hatch. “I’ve got another job for Vickie.”
* * *
“I thought we were staying out of it!” Megan said.
“Corvallis and the Richard are outnumbered,” Herzer replied, calmly, as he finished putting on his leathers. “We’re in range. We can’t just let them carry the whole fight.”
“What if we’re attacked while you’re gone?” she asked, angrily. The shambles from the fight still wasn’t cleared from her quarters and, ignoring the suggestion of the captain, she had installed herself in Herzer’s. Bast was still sharing the quarters but despite the crowding the elf seemed actually pleased that she was here. So was Megan, until this stupid plan had come up. “For that matter, you could be killed!”
“Megan,” Herzer said, gently. “I’m a soldier. Sometimes I ride a dragon, sometimes I swing a sword. I… hope that we have something special between us. But you’re going to have to accept that one of the problems of being my friend is that I go out to try to kill other people. And they try to kill me. It’s my job and I’m good at it. You’re going to have to decide if that’s what you want in a… friend.”
“I know that,” Megan said. “I even like it, except when you’re going out to get yourself killed.” She reached up and touched his face, then ki
ssed him. She’d meant for it to be a light, chaste, kiss, but she suddenly found herself holding him tight. Finally she pulled away brushing at his face again. “Get out there, Herzer. Go get me a carrier.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, then picked up his helmet and left the compartment.
* * *
“Corvallis is sinking,” Shar said, sadly. “Edmund, I think we have to retire.”
“Damn if I will,” Edmund said, shaking his head. The second flight of dragons from the New Destiny flight had been lighter than the first; they were hurting them. But with the Corvallis out of the fight both flights would concentrate on the Richard. “Angle in closer. If we can’t get them with the dragons then we’ll damned well board the bastards.”
* * *
“We lost how many dragons?” Admiral Trieste shouted.
“The dreadnoughts are filled with archers,” his chief of staff said. “We only got five back, those that were engaging the Silverdrake. And they lost three of those to the Drakes. The rest of the flight is… gone. They flew right into the trap. It looks to be at least a battalion, maybe a regiment, of longbowmen.”
“Where are the dreadnoughts now?” the admiral asked.
“They’re sailing towards us,” the chief of staff said with a grimace. “Depending on the winds they’ll be here in an hour. I’m not sure we can face them with anything we have.”
“Forget the dreadnoughts,” Trieste said. “Go for the carrier. And point us away from those damned archers.”