by George Olney
Maev looked up from her work to study the fuel consumption readout critically. "At full speed, we can get to within a few hours of the Hold. If you keep it to about half speed, we'll get closer but we won't reach it."
Frenchy thought furiously then reached a decision. "If we aren't going to reach help, we need to fort up someplace. The faster we go, the further in front of the bastards chasing us we stay, but it still won't get us to the Hold. We need to find a good place to set up so we can keep them off as long as possible. Long enough and somebody will show up to help."
That was another thing Frenchy was sure about. Well, more or less.
"The only problem is this truck or whatever doesn't have a scanner so I don't know how close the bad guys are," she added. "The only thing I know for certain is that there are a lot more of them than us."
Dallas speeded up and the ride got rougher, loudly accompanied by exclamations and complaints after a particularly rough jounce. She was still feeling out the carryall and learning to drive over the Barrens. Things smoothed out a little after she got a feel for how and when to weave, but the ride wasn't anything anyone would call even.
Everyone in the cab was tense as Dallas drove, but Frenchy was trying to ignore it by having Sarena explain what had happened to her and the girls. "We took off into the night," Sarena said, finishing up her story. "I guess, with all of the confusion of the lee'thal attack, they didn't get around to hunting us until daylight. I'm sure that's the guards behind us now."
Listening to Sarena's story made Frenchy furious. Ruthlessly, she pushed down her quick temper and distracted herself by studying the land ahead. Finally, she saw something. A possibility. "Dallas, how much fuel have we got?"
"Less than a quarter," Dallas replied. "How much less I'm not prepared to say. Every fuel gauge ever made gets unreliable once you get below a third of a load."
Frenchy nodded, her attention on a rock structure, just like all the rest that dotted the Barrens. "That's about what I figured. Head for that rock spire just off to the right out there. That's where we'll set up. I don't know how close we are to the Hold, but help ought to be able to find us there and maybe the bad guys will miss us."
Maev sat back in the seat, her work with the dash transponder finished. "No way they'll miss us. I have this thing sending a broad beam broadcast signal requesting rescue. If we leave it on, Grete and the rest will know where we are, once they triangulate on the signal. The problem is that everyone else that gets it can do the same thing. If that bunch behind us has a locator of some kind on board one of their vehicles, they can come straight for us."
"Leave it on," Frenchy said decisively. "We'll take a chance they don't. If they do, well, we'll handle that. Grete and Grae and whoever else is coming will need to know how to find us."
In the back, Nos was trying to ignore the rough ride. He made a real effort to do nothing more than grunt when they hit a really rough bounce. He had an image to uphold. One of the girls looked at the big sword in his hands and asked in an amused voice, "Hey, kid, isn't that blade a little big for you, not to mention that pistol?"
Nos looked at her with calm and (secretly forced) dignity. "The sword is now, but not someday. It belonged to Yarmout and I'm taking it back to his family. The pistol was his, too, but I know how to use it."
Another girl, a younger one holding one of the smaller swords, asked, "Who's Yarmout?"
"He was our riding instructor," Nos replied with as much dignity as he could. He was also hiding the wave of grief the question brought up. "He had us out in the Barrens for a training ride, me and some girls around your age. We were ambushed and they were taken. I survived and Mom rescued me. We were looking for those girls when we were shot down."
The girl looked thoughtful. "That must have been where the group came from yesterday. The guards brought them in before dark."
The oldest girl in the group stared at him. "Mom? Who's your mother, the big blonde woman or that little one with the exotic looks."
"Frenchy. The blonde. She's my mom. The other lady is my aunt, Dallas."
The oldest girl's eyes got wide. She wasn't alone. "Frenchy! I've heard of her! She's supposed to be the best dancer in the Tribes!"
Nos nodded with grave dignity. He'd never seen anyone dance here, but he wasn't about to admit it. Image, again. "She is. An Enforcer, too. So's Dad."
"Dad?"
"Grae."
The full impact of those terse announcements brought things to a screeching halt. All of the girls knew about Grae, and not a few tended to sigh about what they knew. Nos's stock shot skyward. There was more talk, but nobody addressed him as "kid" again.
As they rode. Nos began to get interested in the sword the girl near him was holding. It was much shorter than the big ones the men used, about the size of the training blade he used in class. It looked like something he could handle and thoughts began percolating in his mind. He had Yarmout's big sword, but he couldn't use it. He also had Yarmout's gun, but again - he was an honest person and he had to be honest with himself - it was on the edge of his capabilities. The gun was bigger than the one he used that time at the firing range back at the Hold and he suspected it had quite a kick. He could handle that, but he also suspected he wasn't going to be very good with it. One of the older girls might be better. They were all trained in guns. He was just starting. More to the point, Real Men used blades and there was one in that girl's hand he might be able to use.
They were running for safety and the carryall was moving at near top speed. He could tell from how rough the ride was. Nos had heard enough and was smart enough to know they weren't going to get to safety, though. If they had to stop short of the Hold, they were going to have to fight if the guys chasing them found them. That was fine with him. After two attacks where he couldn't do anything, he was ready to fight and he wanted some way to strike back at the kind of people that had killed his real parents and Yarmout.
He took another look at the girl holding the sword. She was a little older than him, but younger than the rest of the girls. Not quite the slender and sleek mold of the rest, either. Looked worried, too. She wasn't saying much to the other girls.
He decided what he wanted to do. Now if she'd just let him do it.
"Hi," he began, "I'm Nos. What's that sword you're carrying? I've never seen anything like it."
The girl smiled at him a little wanly. "Hi. I'm Milla." She looked at the sword she was gripping so tightly in her hand. "This is a lee'thal sword. We killed a couple of them when we were escaping and somebody - I can't remember who - gave it to me to carry. I don't know what to do with it. I just hope they don't catch us."
Nos nodded to himself. Okay, guy thing. Buck up the girl. "If they catch us, they're in trouble. Mom's an Enforcer, like I told you. So's Maev. Aunt Dallas is pretty good in a fight, too." At least Nos hoped she was. "I can handle a gun. So can you, so let's not worry. Those guys are the ones that have to worry. Hey, you girls killed lee'thal to get those swords. How did you do it, anyhow?"
Milla shrugged. "Lee'thal have light bones. I grabbed a wing and a couple of other girls grabbed the other wing and its arms. Sarena snapped its neck. It took four or five of us, but we did it."
Nos smiled at her, secretly amazed that this... girl... helped kill a monster with her bare hands. Remember, Nos, buck up the girl. "That's really something! If we have to fight, you ought to be good."
Milla's smile got brighter. She was coming out of her funk. Time for him to get to the point. "Can I look at it?"
Milla handed over the sword and Nos hefted it experimentally. It was a little longer than three feet, but pretty light. The blade looked real sharp, too. Good balance. The handle, long enough for him to use two hands if he needed to, was beautifully shaped and even had some engraving on the simple cross guard. The sword, now that he examined it, was a highly functional weapon as well as handsome in shape and decoration. Nos decided it suited him even better than the downsized training sword he normally used in
class. He figured he could really fight with this.
Still, he'd read about the lee'thal. How did such a savage bat get such a refined weapon? Okay, time to ask. "I've studied the lee'thal, but I didn't see anything that said they were skilled metal workers. Do they all have something like this? Where did they get them?"
Milla shrugged. "You aren't from Lycanth or you'd know. I'm not cutting you down, it's just something you learn growing up.
"Anyhow," she continued, "it was made by the Omart. Not too many people ever see one. They don't live with the lee'thal and they keep their places hidden for safety. They're kind of a different type of lee'thal. The young of both types develop either into a full-fledged lee'thal or an Omart as they mature. Omart aren't aggressive and they can't fly either. Instead they do the mining, tool and weapon making, and a lot of other things, like farming, the lee'thal don't do. The lee'thal are pure predators and the Omart do what's necessary to keep both types functioning. They complement each other."
"Oh," Nos replied. The whole subject sounded interesting. He decided there was still a lot to learn about Lycanth and he wanted to learn it. Meanwhile, he thought the sword was beautiful and he really wanted it.
"Look," he said, deciding to be honest, well, honest enough to get the sword but still keep Milla bucked up, "this feels really good to me. Can I trade you the pistol for the sword? You can probably use it better than I can and I've been working out with a sword like this one. I bet I can use it pretty well."
The offer got Milla really looking at the boy next to her. He wasn't tribal, even if he was dressed in leathers. She saw a sandy haired youngster a year or so younger than her, but well-shaped. Milla didn't know it, but the care and dedicated exercise Nos had been getting over the weeks since his rescue had caused him to fill out a little and harden a good bit. The scrawny kid rescued from pirates was gone. After the ambush, totally gone. To Milla, he actually looked kind of interesting, even if he was just a kid.
Deep inside, Milla had her own problems with the way she herself was developing. It was becoming painfully obvious to her that she wasn't going to be the ideal Lycanthi girl, sleek and feline. Daddy was short and stocky and it looked like she was going to take after him. Her short and slightly stocky body already meant she wasn't one of the preferred members of any group. The fact that she was along on this escape was simply an accident.
Now Nos was talking to her, not one of the others. So okay, he had the sword in his hands and it looked like he wanted it. But he was still talking to her. And she knew how to use a pistol.
"Okay," she said. "You keep the sword. I'll use your gun."
Nos gave her a big smile that suddenly made him even more interesting to her. "Thanks! Here's the gun."
As she took the pistol, Milla noticed Nos getting a thoughtful look. "You know what?" he finally said. "I just realized I can't take care of Yarmout's sword if I have to use this one to fight. You'll pretty much be in one place shooting. Will you take care of his sword for me?"
Milla was stunned for a moment. When a man asked a woman to care for his sword, it was a marriage gesture! Then she got a grip on herself. They were both way too young, besides that wasn't really his sword, just one he was taking back to the Hold. Nos wasn't tribal anyhow. He didn't know what he was asking. He just wanted her to take care of it for a while, nothing more. She got depressed again.
"Okay," she said listlessly.
Nos looked at her shyly. "I wish you'd smile again, Milla," he replied. "When you do, you remind me of Aunt Dallas."
Milla was stunned again. Dallas? She reminded him of Dallas? That woman was short, true, but very exotic. She was beautiful and graceful, as graceful as Frenchy! Even if she was bigger in the hips and breast than most Lycanthi women, it all went well together and Milla was certain she had no trouble attracting men. And Nos thought she looked like Dallas! As the thought sunk in, she began beaming. Her? Like Dallas? Wow!
"Yeah," she finally said around a big smile. "Give it to me. I'll take good care of it."
She took the big sword and continued talking to Nos, finding out about him and telling him something about her. Every so often, Milla would, very unobtrusively, glance at the girls around her. The expressions she was seeing were all a bit curious - and a little envious.
To Frenchy's surprise, Dallas didn't stop at the rock spire. Instead she circled it then started for another one. Puzzled, Frenchy asked, "Why'd you do that?"
"You could climb both sides, babe," Dallas replied as she drove. "If we have to fort up for a fight, I don't want to do it where someone can get up behind us."
Oh. Good point. It looked like Dallas's Marine training was coming out. Frankly, Frenchy was glad to see it. Her Enforcer schooling didn't teach her anything about military operations and it looked like there was going to be a military type fight coming up soon. "You choose the one we'll use, babe," Frenchy told Dallas.
Dallas circled several more rock formations before she finally stopped the carryall. She got out of the cab and studied the formation she'd chosen critically then climbed back in. "Looks like we're home, babe," she said. "You can't get up the back side and the only routes up are from this side. We'll be able to get into position with no problem. Plenty of cover and concealment, too."
Looking at the quizzical expressions on the other three women, Dallas elaborated. "Concealment means you can hide. Cover is protection from enemy fire. We're going to need both of them soon. How soon I don't know and that bothers me."
Maev had an answer for that concern. She knew a lot more about Frenchy's psi than Dallas did. "Frenchy, can you feel them? Get any idea of how close they are?"
It was Frenchy's turn to get out of the cab and study the surrounding area, specifically the surrounding area behind them. "See that?" she said, pointing at a smallish dust cloud on the horizon. "That's the bad guys. They're too far away for me to get a feeling about them, but I can guess they're still an hour or two away."
"Good enough," Dallas replied as she climbed back down. "Let's get the kids and the survival gear from the cruiser out of the back and up in those rocks. Once we've set up, I'll take the carryall around the back of the rocks and see if I can find a concealed place to park it."
Maev and Sarena joined the other two. "I've shut off the transponder broadcast," Maev said. "I figure it's okay to do that because anyone looking for us will start looking wherever the broadcast shut off."
Frenchy studied the slowly approaching dust clouds thoughtfully. "That probably includes these guys.
"Well," she continued, turning decisively towards the back of the big truck, "there's no help for that. We just have to be ready for them. Get the kids down and let's get started fixing up a big welcome for the bastards."
There were two ledges about halfway up the rock formation, each about ten feet deep. The upper one was about four feet above the lower and behind it. Perfect. Dallas took charge of laying out the defenses, while Maev and Frenchy supervised the girls and Nos. Frenchy took note of the fact that Nos was now gunless and carrying one of the smaller swords, but saw no reason to get into the subject, especially when she saw that Milla had Nos's gun tucked into her waistband and Yarmout's sword in one hand. Frenchy was careful to hide the smile that produced. Once upon a time, she'd also been given a sword to hold. Time enough to find out the story if they survived, and she was going to make damn sure they survived. If the bad guys didn't, that was their tough luck.
Rocks were brought to make crude parapets and firing positions in front of both ledges then more rocks blocked the rough pathway to their location, something Frenchy viewed with satisfaction. Anyone trying to get at them was going to have to climb and that might prove problematical, given the various guns and the two boppers.
The kids were put on the upper ledge while the older women had the lower. Frenchy split the water and the emergency kits from the two vehicles between the ledges. If it came to a siege, the group was in pretty decent shape, the only problem being ammo, since the B-4
2s didn't have spare magazines. Those guns were vitally important to their defense, but they definitely had to be kept on semiautomatic. No spray and pray today.
Maev exchanged her spring rifle for one of the two B-42s the girls had captured so all three adult women had weapons with some range to them. Sarena and her B-42 were on the ledge with them, too. Not only was she bolstering their main line of defense, being with Dallas let the older and more experienced woman control Sarena's fire. In return, Maev and Frenchy gave their pistols to two of the older girls. Counting Yarmout's and two taken from dead guards, that meant there were five pistols on the upper ledge. Pretty good close-in firepower.
Once everyone was in position with weapons and equipment where they were supposed to be, Dallas, the unofficial tactical leader, addressed the kids on the upper ledge. "Okay, guys, listen up. First of all, we're pretty sure they know where we are, but we're not going out of our way to advertise. Keep those pistols ready, but nobody shoots until I tell you to, no matter what. Then watch out where you shoot. Remember we're down here.
"Second, listen to me and if I yell for suppressive fire, point your gun wherever I tell you and just shoot at them. Don't try to pick a target, just fire to keep their heads down and stop them from doing whatever they're trying to do. They're probably going to get close, but don't let it bother you. They'll be shooting at us, too. Just stay down behind your rocks and wait for my command. They don't need to know how much firepower we really have. Frenchy, Maev, and I are in a position that will let us shoot at them even if they try to climb the rocks, you guys aren't. You just shoot wherever I tell you unless things get really bad then watch where you fire."
Dallas took a deep breath and looked grimly at the line of youngsters, watching her intently from their places on the upper ledge. "Remember, all we have to do is keep them away from us until help comes. Just keep fighting, no matter what. Don't ever give up. Somebody's coming for us. We'll be here to meet them.