John Ringo - Council Wars 01 - There Will Be Dragons

by There Will Be Dragons(lit)

  "Not. yet," she replied. The elf, for all her stamina, was slowing down and McCanoc seemed to have unlimited reserves of energy.

  "I'm going to kill you," Dionys said, panting. "Then all the rest of you. Rape Daneh again, rape that bitch daughter, rape your still warm corpse."

  "I don't think so," Bast gasped but as she said it her foot turned on a stone. She tried to turn the slip into a cartwheel but Dionys darted forward, his sword licking out, and caught her on the upper thigh. As the bright blue blood spilled out on the ground he raised the sword up, point downward, for a killing thrust.

  "My turn," Edmund said, stepping forward to interpose his shield as Bast scrambled backwards. Some of the militia grabbed her and drew her back into their midst, shielding her from McCanoc's view.

  "Now you, old man?" Dionys said, stepping back and laughing. "Don't you people give up? My orcs will be up here before long and your damned 'Blood Lord' pussies aren't going to be able to stop them with me in their midst."

  "I see you kenned some armor," Talbot replied calmly, hefting his hammer.

  "Kenned hell, Fukyama could see a good deal when it was presented to him," McCanoc replied, lifting his visor for a moment. He was far enough back that the cloud barely reached Talbot but he appeared puzzled that it didn't seem to have any effect. The cloud seemed to be hovering just a short distance from the baron's armor as if it was afraid to touch it. He looked at it questioningly for a moment and then dropped his visor, dropping into a guard position.

  "You can't defeat me, either, 'Baron' Edmund," he said, stepping forward carefully and jabbing at Edmund with his sword. The hypersharp weapon struck Edmund's shield but the baron turned the blow aside, letting the point slither off the metal surface.

  "No weapon is proof against my armor," McCanoc continued, circling his smaller opponent. "My blade will go right through your armor and my cloud will kill you even if my blade doesn't. Nice, isn't it? It's a medical protocol that Chansa gifted me with. Your wife will like it, I think. Perhaps I'll feed her to it, after our child is born. You are going to die, here, Edmund Talbot."

  "I think not," the baron replied, sighing. "Taunting, taunting, taunting. I halfway expect you to say 'neener neener.' So far your cloud doesn't appear to be working." He turned aside another blow lightly and stepped to the side, holding his hammer at the ready. "And, you know, Dionys, you really aren't very good at taunting."

  "D'you think you can do better?" Dionys snapped, leaping forward and driving a blow against Talbot's shield. This time, Talbot caught the blow full against it and the sword rang as it was stopped by the metal of the shield.

  "Oh, yes," Edmund replied. "What? You don't think I'd have standard armor, do you? I'm a master-smith. Of course it's power-armor you twit! As to taunting. Try this." He thought for a moment then cleared his throat.

  "Dionys, thou art a coward. Sooth doth thou send others before thee and refrain from the strife thyself. Thou strikest women yet shirk to strike a man, lest thy pustulent skin be cut by a blade fairer than thy own. Sooth, thou art a coward, McCanoc."

  "What?" Dionys shouted, slamming another blow into the shield. Edmund turned it aside as if it was of no importance and continued.

  "Dionys, thou art a braggart. Braggart thou art for nought, for in every contest thou art defeated. Fighter of weaklings and braggarts like thyself, whensoever a true knight face thee, thou runs away. Yet, in sooth, from this cowardly retreat dost thou make brag. McCanoc, thou art a braggart."

  Herzer watched in amazement as the smith started to dance around his much larger opponent, taking blow after blow unfazed and practically singing his taunts as Dionys began slamming out blows in naked fury.

  "Dionys, thou art smelly. Thy breath stinks of the rotten ejacula of horses, which, sooth, thou dost love as thy morning drink. Thy body reeks with the stench of fear, and the manure of asparagus-eating goats is better than the smell from thy mustache. McCanoc, thou art a stinker."

  At this Dionys let out a bellow like none before and began chasing Edmund around the defile. Others got out of their way, laughing now at Edmund's taunts. Despite McCanoc's size he could never seem to catch the smith.

  "Dionys, thou art ugly. Thy orcs doth not run forward to the fight, but away from thy countenance. Sooth, in the history of the ill-favored, thy name is held in high esteem. Thy whore mother screamed at first sight of thee as the replicator burst open of its own accord in horror. The ill-fortuned persons that were forced to care for thee had to put a pork chop around thy neck to get the dog to play with thee. Further, sooth, when it did, it mistook thy ass for thy face and preferred it to lick. McCanoc, thou art ugly.

  "Dionys, thou art stupid. Thrice hast thou attacked us and thrice have we thrown thee back, though we be but, forsooth, a fraction of thy number. Thou art unlettered and hath never read of the term 'defeat in detail,' for, assuredly, but those few letters would require all day and the use of both of your pustulent forefingers. But the veriest simpleton canst understand that thine tactics are those of a school-yard bully held back until his tutors at last release him as a man full grown yet unable to manage fingerpainting. The very fact that thou canst breathe must be by the arts of some homunculi or hob, smarter than thou, who doth sit upon thy shoulder and whisper in thy ear, 'breathe in, breathe out' else surely thou wouldst cease in this vital activity for lack of thought. Canst thou walk and chew bubble gum at the same time it is asked and I cry 'Nay' for I have found you, face down, the bubble gum before you upon the ground as proof.

  "McCanoc, thou art stupid."

  "And that," he finished taking another blow on the shield and stopping his dance, "is how a professional insults someone! Now, go away, or I'll start in on Arabic you miserable mound of gelatinous pus!"

  Herzer wished that he could see Dionys' face; he figured he was just about to have a stroke. His voice was hoarse and it sounded almost as if he was crying.

  "You're going to pay for that Edmund Talbot!" McCanoc yelled, slamming his own shield into Edmund's and then striking with his sword. Edmund turned both attacks with almost contemptuous ease and slapped the sword blade aside with his hammer. Herzer noticed that while McCanoc was winded, Edmund appeared as fresh as when the contest had started.

  "And that is such a comeback," Talbot sighed, hefting his hammer. "Do you know why it doesn't bother me when people taunt me with the name Edmund?"

  "No," Dionys said, stepping forward until the black cloud enveloped the smith. "And I don't care. I'm going to kill you."

  "It's because it's not my name," Talbot replied, softly. "It's the name of my brother, who died in Anarchia. He went there like a lot of young men used to go, to try to find some true competition in this world. And, like most, he fell victim to the anarchy that it is named after, killed in some pointless skirmish. I didn't know that at the time, so I followed him in. It took me years to determine his fate. Years in which, in searching for my brother, I found what I thought was my destiny."

  His voice had gone cold and hard and even McCanoc had stopped, awed by some depth he couldn't understand, hidden in the simple tones of the smith.

  "My name, is Charles," Talbot snarled at last, and as he did he was enwrapped in a blue glow that drove back the cloud in flashes of silver light. "And you, Dionys, are about to find out why I am called THE HAMMER!"

  The hammer slashed forward faster than the eye could follow, faster even than Bast's lightning sword blows and Dionys was smashed backwards in a blast of sparks. His shield was shattered and he tossed it off with a cry, cradling his arm as the smith advanced.

  "King of Anarchia you wished to be, right?" Talbot said, catching Dionys' wild swing on his shield and shedding the power blade as if it were a zephyr of wind. "Wanted to destroy all of my good work, did you?" he continued, slamming the hammer into Dionys' shoulder and casting him backwards in another blast of blue sparks. "Want to take over my town, do you?" he asked, hammering McCanoc's sword arm as his opponent took another wild swing. The sword sailed harmless
ly away as Talbot stepped forward relentlessly, pressing the much larger fighter up against the edge of the road cut. "Raped my wife, did you?" Edmund said, fury in his voice as Dionys ducked his head and charged. "Kill her just like bastards like you killed my brother?"

  Edmund stepped easily aside and laid the hammer across the back of McCanoc's helmet with another shower of sparks that made the hammer ring like a bell. The black-armored figure was left stretched in the dust and Edmund raised the hammer over his head for a killing blow. "I don't think so."

  "Edmund!" Sheida called from above. The battlefield was suddenly shadowed as a flight of wyverns, each with a lance-wielding rider on its back, landed on the hills. "Don't!" She dismounted and scrambled to the ground, waving at him frantically as her lizard flew down ahead of her. "Damnit, even if we didn't need him, you can't kill him that way!"

  Harry was on one of the wyverns as well and waved a sardonic salute at Edmund before the flight took off down the valley. The orcs had, indeed, been reforming for another assault but as the dragons swept down on them they scattered for the trees. The wyverns passed on and from down the valley came frantic neighing from the pack train as the beasts flew over.

  Edmund flexed his hand on the hammer and looked up at the council member angrily. Finally, he nodded curtly, then raised the hammer over his head and brought it down on the small of Dionys' back instead of his head.

  "Fine," he snarled. "I never said I'd let him walk again. Or use his dick."

  Sheida shook her head angrily and climbed down from the heights, running to McCanoc. As she approached she lifted a hand and concentrated for a moment until the black cloud settled and dissipated into dust. She then ran her hand down McCanoc's back, looking inward and rocked back on her heels.

  "That was a pretty precisely calculated blow," she said, looking up at Edmund.

  "Yeah, wasn't it," he replied. "And if you fix it, all bets are off." He turned to Herzer and shook his head at his hand, and the downed Blood Lords scattered around the recumbent figure. "Sorry about that. I guess I should have sent you guys to deal with the orcs. Nobody's perfect."

  Azure stalked over to the downed prey and sniffed at the body, yowling angrily. Then he turned around and kicked dirt onto the body, which was the only way to deal with a defeated enemy in his opinion. With a sniff, he wandered off. It was time to find some food and a good place to curl up in the sun.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  McCanoc pounded at the invisible walls of his prison and snarled at the two women.

  "Fix me!" he demanded from his seat on the ground. All of his injuries had been healed, save one, and now he couldn't get higher than the perch afforded by propping himself up with his arms. He hammered at the force shield again and screamed. "FIX ME!"

  "Tough job," Daneh said, maliciously. "Lots of damage there."

  "I tell you what, Dionys," Sheida said with a smile. "If you turn over the proxy for the Wolf terraforming project, I'll think about it. Or, if you don't, I'll give you to Edmund."

  "Oh, no," Daneh said, supporting the weight of her stomach, a glint in her eye. "Give him to me. I know just exactly where all the nerve endings are. And how to keep them alive for a long time, even after they've been. damaged."

  "You wouldn't," McCanoc said, then gulped. "You're a doctor!"

  "Or, if you give me some power, I'll change him into a woman," Daneh continued. "We captured a fair number of his orcs. And they're awfully bored."

  "I've got an idea," Sheida said. "Why don't we go think about some other things we can do to him while Dionys thinks about what we're thinking about. And our offer. Which is, we'll let you live your full natural life. That's it."

  "What about my legs?" Dionys snarled. "What about them?"

  "I don't see why you'd need them in solitary confinement," Sheida answered as the two women walked out of the shed.

  The building was on the far side of the Hill, far away from the prying eyes of the town. Most of the inhabitants of Raven's Mill, and the surrounding areas, had come into town for a serious party after being relieved of the threat of Dionys' attack. And the rumors of his capture, imprisonment, and the revelation that Baron Edmund was none other than Charles the Great of Anarchia had been swirling and being increased, if possible, in the retelling.

  As the two women walked up and across the wall, nodding at the Council guards that kept prying eyes away, Daneh shook her head sadly.

  "I didn't enjoy that as much as I thought I would," she said stopping to catch her breath.

  "That's because you're a good person," Sheida agreed. "And no matter how much you hate him, torturing him, even mentally, goes against your grain."

  "But if we can get the power, I can heal Bast," Daneh said, as much to herself as to the woman at her side. "And Herzer; he basically doesn't have a hand anymore. And it would be nice to have some medical backup when this happens," she added, rubbing her stomach.

  "I know," Sheida replied. "The shield is tied into the power net and proof against just about anything Paul can throw at it. I hope. And, hopefully, Chansa won't even realize he's in trouble until we make him transfer the proxy, after which we'll just bury McCanoc somewhere deep, safe, and impossible to escape from. I'm thinking, the middle of a mountain. Maybe a magma bubble."

  "But. I still don't like it."

  "No, you wouldn't," Sheida said with a grim snort. "I think we should let him stew for a couple of hours and go enjoy the party in the meantime."

  "That's one way to forget, I suppose," Daneh said, looking at her sister. "Tell you what, you play the beauty and I'll play the brains this time."

  "Watch out. You know what happened the last time we did that!"

  "Yep, I ended up marrying Edmund. Charles. Damn it, a woman should know the name of the man she's in love with!" She stopped dead in her tracks and cracked a grin. "Forget the damned party, let's go find Edmund. He's the best party in town."

  "I'm with you."

  * * *

  Rachel was wandering disconsolately through the crowds in the street when she heard her name called. The town was packed with revelers, many of them victors of the recent battles. There were militia in their motley armor and a spray of archers and Blood Lords. None of them needed to buy a drink as carefully hoarded liquor was dragged out and the entire town decided that this was a good time to do Faire.

  For Rachel, though, there was no one. Her mother and father had just been acting. sotted all day and when she'd gone to visit Herzer in the hospital he'd moved himself, completely without authorization, over to the bed by Bast. The two of them were deep in conversation when she went in but they welcomed her and tried to get her to stay. Herzer's hand had had to be amputated, but her father had already offered to make a prosthetic that would work well enough to hold a shield. Deann, however, hadn't been as lucky; she had died on the horse cart back to town despite everything that Rachel could do to save her.

  She wanted to stay and talk with the two of them, her best friends that she had in the town. However, she could tell when three was a crowd and finally wandered off to find someone else to be with.

  She stopped and looked around and then saw a white, somewhat travel-stained unicorn, coming through the crowd.

  "Barb?" she asked.

  "Rachel!" the unicorn squeaked. "It is you! Oh, I'm so glad to find you, I've had such a terrible time!"

  "Really?" Rachel asked. "How bad of a time could a unicorn have? I mean, you can browse, right?"

  "I was captured by that horrible McCanoc person," the unicorn cried, her eyes brimming with tears. "And, oh! It was just terrible. The things he made me do!"

  Rachel's brain shut down at that point and her mouth managed not to ask Barb to reiterate her experiences. But if she knew McCanoc her. friend had not had a good time.

  "I'm sorry, Barb," Rachel finally managed to say. "Many people had a bad time with Dionys. But that's all done now."

  "But he's still alive," Barb squeaked. "What if he gets away?"

 
; "He won't," Rachel promised. "And if he tries anything, Dad will kill him."

  "Okay," Barb replied. "But, at least I met a nice guy out of the whole thing."

  "Oh?" Rachel squeaked back then cleared her throat. "Oh?"

  "Yes, and I need a favor," Barb said. "Can you come help me with something?"

  "Sure," Rachel said, weakly, following the unicorn through the crowds and out of the town.

  They crossed the river and approached the horse corral, and Rachel grimaced as Diablo nickered and trotted over to the fence, whickering at Barb.

  "I know what you're thinking, Rachel," Barb said sadly. "But he's kind to me and he doesn't try to take me out of season and he makes the other horses leave me alone. And, really, I just don't fit in anywhere else anymore."

  "It's okay," Rachel said finally. "I understand."

  "But. I can't work the latch on the gate," Barb pointed out. "And they threw me out this afternoon."