Abigail had long left middle age behind, was plump in a comfortable but sturdy way and had the appearance of someone who had spent most of her life in practical work. Dressed in heavy trousers, shirt and short jacket, her mud stained boots suggested that she had come straight from the fields.
“Are we going to get to see any shooting?” burst out the boy standing between the two women. He was probably no more than fourteen, red haired to a fault, and full of unrestrained energy.
“Shush, Artie!” the second woman scolded. She smiled apologetically at Everett, Sarah, and the two infantry soldiers. “Not knowing any better, he thinks this whole thing is a lark.”
“He’ll learn better soon enough,” Clay commented flatly.
The magicker frowned then looked worried, draping an arm protectively about Artie’s shoulder. She was about ten years younger than Abigail and had a trim figure and dark hair tied back in a single braid.
“Show them your spell, Artie,” she ordered, squeezing the lad’s shoulder for emphasis. Her gesture was entirely proprietary and it was clear that she had assumed responsibility for the youth.
“Sure!” He stuck out his hands, palms upward and cupped in the shape of a bowl. “To the blazes!”
Everett felt a strong but shallow actuation.
Throwing off curling wisps of scorched air from teasing flame crests, a white-hot globe of fire about a span across formed above Artie’s hands, floating unmoving as it rotated and twisted irregularly. The globe threw off a wave of white light that brightened the room remarkably. The contrast dimmed the room’s oil lamps to insignificance.
Sarah perked up interestedly. “Can you throw that?”
“Huh? No, it’s not real fire.” The boy, withdrawing one hand slowly, poked and arm through the globe with no visible effect on either the globe or his arm. “It’s not even hot. It’s just kinda a light.”
“Most of the effect is pure illusion,” the second woman explained. Then, slightly defensively, “The light, however, can be quite useful. It is, by the way, inexhaustible.”
“I see.” Sarah tucked the corners of her mouth back in mute comment and gave Everett a sidelong glance that expressed concisely that she thought the situation now hopeless.
“Right, that’s fine, Artie,” Everett complimented, keeping his expression carefully neutral. “Must you cast another spell to disable it?”
“Oh, no, I just take my hands away!” The boy dropped his hands and the globe promptly vanished.
Everett raised his eyebrows. “That’s rather unusual.”
“We think that the spell is corporeally centric,” Abigail provided. “Such spells are rare, but not unheard of.”
“Right.” Everett turned to the second woman. “And your name and spells, Madame?”
“I am Mademoiselle Silvia Borus.”
Everett bobbed his head. “Your pardon, Mademoiselle.”
“Think nothing of it. For myself, I have two spells. The first is a Vital Entity Location Variant and the second is a Ferrous Metal Manipulation Variant and both are Specifics.”
“Could you elaborate?” Sarah prodded.
Silva gave a brief chagrinned smile, displaying transitory dimples in her cheeks. “I can find lost pets and fix broken iron skillets.”
Before anyone could say anything else, an orderly entered, handed Clay a note, and exited immediately.
The female Alarsarian infantryman scanned the scrap of paper and then announced, “The Republican forces are in sight. We are ordered to move immediately to our forward position, which this says is an observation bunker adjacent to the All Seasons Inn, and provide all possible aid to the defensive forces.”
“Do you know where the Inn is?” Sarah asked the woman.
“I do,” Abigail supplied. “It’s at the crest of Rolf’s Hill on the north-eastern side of town.”
“Right,” Everett acknowledged. He considered the situation. Both RAI soldiers had retained their rifles and side arms and he had the firm conviction that the fundamental definition of “liaison” in this instance was to insure the continued fidelity of Sarah and himself to the Kingdom’s cause. While it seemed nonsensical to advance closer to the battle, there was little doubt that if the two of them were to extricate themselves from Alarsarian custody, it might be easier if it were somewhere other than their heavily guarded headquarters building.
“Let’s head up to the roof. To save time, Sarah and I will transport us to the bunker.”
The only accessible part of the roof was above one of the towers and they had to climb a tall, spindly ladder through a scuttle hole to reach it. Some of the rungs were cracked and the rails thinner than they should have been, making the climb a less than sanguine experience. Nevertheless, everyone managed to ascend in a manner consistent with their general demeanor: Clay and Serheighmon attacked the task with military efficiency and alacrity; Artie swarmed up like a squirrel that had a dog chasing it; Silvia mounted the rungs in a methodical and careful manner; Abigail approached it as simply another unavoidable task.
Sarah, however, surprised Everett by casually wrapping both arms about his neck and saying, “Magicians, remember? Just transport us up there.”
He could not see the roof deck because of the angle through the scuttle hole, but reasoned that a spot in the air would serve for a locus just as well. Thinking ahead, he leaned down, caught Sarah under the knees, and picked her up. She gave a startled laugh as he cast, “Beautiful Woman, come forth!”
Appearing six feet above a small, level platform ringed with a low wall, he immediately cast again. “Take ye flight!”
With a sudden, dizzying view of the surrounding precipitously sloped roof of the headquarters, the lower adjacent buildings, and the streets far below, he then cast the spell in rapid succession, so that he and Sarah appeared to float slowly down until his boots touched on the deck of the tower. The three Alarsarian magickers, crowded together on the small space with the soldiers, spontaneously rewarded his performance with a brief spate of appreciative applause as he set Sarah on her own feet once more.
“I’ve never seen anyone that could fly!” Artie enthused, rushing up to Everett, who could not keep a triumphant grin from his face.
“It’s a sort of controlled fall, really. Not what you would actually call flying.” Thoroughly pleased and flattered, he focused on the adults. “Right, we’ll have to make a couple of trips. Where’s the inn?”
Abigail pointed over the parapet to the north. “You can see it there on the hill. The building with the red tile roof and large gables.”
“Right. Got it.”
“Lieutenant, it might be better if we were to send a scout ahead,” Clay suggested as he examined the distant target.
“Do you think the fighting has already reached the inn?” he demanded tensely. It might be time for he and Sarah to escape. There was no way that he was going to transport into the middle of a battle.
“Just standard operating procedure, sir.”
“Oh, uhm, sure. You could go first then. Since I can establish a locus on the inn from here, it’s not necessary that I accompany the two of you. I can send you and her and then bring her back immediately.”’
“Might want to wait about fifteen minutes before transporting her back, sir, so that I can send word with her that it’s clear.”
“Right. Whatever you think is best. Sarah, are you ready?”
“Good to go.” She gestured Clay to her and locked her left arm with the Alarsarian’s right.
“I can make out a big veranda with dining tables. I’ll put you there. Beautiful Woman, come forth!”
Posted along the parapet and looking keenly, Serheighmon declared, “I see them. Looks like no problems. Clay gave a wave and they’ve gone into the inn.”
Artie dashed to the soldier’s side. “I can’t see them. Where are they?”
“Get away from that edge young man!” Silvia scolded. Nipping his ear, she encouraged him back toward the perceived safety of th
e scuttle hole.
Chuckling, Abigail walked over to Everett. “That was impressive magic, there, Master Wizard. I take it that your wife is a magician too? She never said.”
“Sarah is a Common Magicker, yes, but we aren’t married.”
Abigail shrugged. “Reggie and I never had the Royal Sanction on our household either, but that didn’t stop us from having five sons and thirteen grandchildren.”
Everett reddened. “No, I mean, well, Sarah and I are just traveling companions. We’re not romantically involved.”
“Really? You had me fooled then. From the way the two of you stand together, I’d have said that you were well on the way to starting your own family.”
Clearing his throat to cover his embarrassment, he immediately changed the subject, “We’d better keep an eye out, in case they try to signal us.”
TWENTY-ONE
Dug into a formerly manicured lawn adjacent to the elegant and shuttered inn, the observation bunker seemed secure enough. The Royal Engineers had utilized creosote planks half a foot thick to construct its sides and overhead and had packed the spoil a yard deep on top. A single sandbagged entrance without a door led down into a room twenty feet square floored with river gravel. A reinforced observation port looked out over a brush covered slope and the roofs of the houses at the bottom of it toward the north.
As the group, Serheighmon leading and Clay lagging to the rear, trooped down a steep ramp into a deeply shadowed interior, Artie cast his spell, brilliantly lighting the bunker to reveal only empty space.
“I’d put that out,” Clay cautioned. This late in the afternoon, that light’ll shine out like a beacon through the port and I don’t think we want the Zheries to notice us here.”
Artie gasped and abruptly dropped his hands.
As his eyes readjusted to the dimness, Everett walked to the observation port, an opening two feet by six framed in riveted steel plate, and stepped up onto the firing step to look out. The vantage of the hill gave him a view of two or three miles and he could see much of the Alarsarian entrenchments and fortifications. Beyond, the smoke and dust of the advancing Republicans was unmistakable. He turned about to face the others. All were watching him expectantly. He realized quickly that he had better distract the two soldiers before they began making helpful suggestions.
“Serheighmon, come up here and keep watch on the battle. Relay information to us as needed.”
“Yes, Sir.” The man took his post, unslinging his rifle and leaning it against the wall within easy reach, then focused toward the coming battle.
Everett walked back to the tense group. “Clay, take position in the entrance ditch. I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us here.”
“Yes, sir.” She hustled out and went prone at the top of the ramp, rifle cradled and ready.
“What do you want the rest of us to do, Lieutenant?” Abigail asked. The sincerity and intensity of her question gave him pause.
“I’m not really a lieutenant. Just call me Everett.”
Abigail grinned. “And I’m not really a soldier, but we have to do what we can. Do you have a plan?”
A quip slipped out before Everett could restrain it. “Retreat?”
The rustic Common Magicker gave him a hard look. “I can’t say that I’m enthused with this war, Everett, but I was ten when the Republic tried to seize the wheat fields in the province of West Nyllean and I saw the burning farms and the dead. I’d not like to see that again. My magic may not do much to stop the Zheries this time, but I intend to do what I can.”
This was not an affected declaration of patriotic fervor but a simple explanation of practicality and as such it struck him as all the more unsettling.
“Right.”
“You volunteered for the Magicker Company?” Sarah, her expression one of simple curiosity, asked the woman.
Abigail nodded proudly. “That’s right.”
“Both of us volunteered,” Silvia inserted. “During the civilian evacuation, there were all kinds of requests for volunteers. When I saw the placard announcing the Provisional Magicker Company, I signed up right away.”
“I volunteered too!” Artie contributed.
Putting an arm around the boy’s shoulder, Silvia smiled sadly at Everett and Sarah. “Artie was found wandering about town by a patrol after everyone had gone and was turned over to us because he is a magicker. He is an orphan.”
“I think the Zheries are about to loose a barrage,” Serheighmon, warned. “The steam mechanisms have all lined up and stopped.”
Artie twisted from Silvia’s grasp, ran to the firing step, and began hopping when he proved still too short for a clear view.
“Artie, get down from there!” Silvia admonished, taking his arm and pulling him, complaining, away from the opening.
“Everett, you probably should call Clay back inside,” Sarah advised. “She’s totally unprotected out there.”
“Oh! Right.” Everett immediately strode to the exit and ordered the Alarsarian infantryman back into the presumed safety of the bunker.
“Should I take guard here at the entrance, sir?” Clay asked.
“That’s fine.”
“Might I suggest, sir, that--”
“Everybody take cover!” Serheighmon yelled, diving for the floor. The distant rippling booms of the big guns followed his words.
Instantly, Everett crouched down with Clay, Abigail, and Sarah against the heavy timbers that lined the rear wall, while Silvia huddled with Artie along the right wall.
The explosions of the shells followed quickly but did not sound close. The ground vibrated mildly with each detonation.
When the blasts trailed off, Serheighmon crawled over to the forward wall and stood up for a quick look. “They targeted the beebeefields and wire. Now they’ve started moving again, heading for the breach they opened. They’re coming on pretty fast. I bet those things are doing thirty miles an hour or better!”
Sarah swung around to question the other infantryman. “Why isn’t our artillery responding?”
“The brigade has got only one battery o’ six two-inch field guns. Nearly all of our big artillery is emplaced along the fortified lines out west of here. I was told that the major has positioned our two-inchers at key positions in the town. He’s thinking that at point blank range that they might be able take out the road wheels on the Zheries’ mechanisms. If that works, then the disabled mechanisms will block the advance of those following.”
Sarah eyed Clay frankly. “Do you believe that we have any chance of holding out against the Republican attack?”
The woman rolled her shoulders in a half shrug. “I’m guessing that they’ve got heavy armor on the mechanisms that will leave them unharmed by rifle and pistol shot. If that’s true, then they might plan to roll right through the infantry positions and bypass the blockhouses. Our defenses’re designed to repel an infantry and cavalry assault, not something like this. If they can punch through to the town, they can easily cut off the forward units, disrupt our communications, and break our chain of command. After that, it would simply be a matter o’ mopping up.”
Everett listened and did not comment.
More artillery shots echoed in the distance.
“They’re firing point blank into the block houses and blowing them apart!” Serheighmon exclaimed.
This time, the explosions were louder, the shaking stronger. Dust filtered down from the overhead.
Abigail locked eyes with Everett. “If we’re going to try magic, it might better be soon.”
Sarah took hold of his arm. “We need to get out there and stop the Zherians.”
For a moment, Everett mentally recoiled from the suggestion that they rush to the battle, but then realized that this must simply be a ploy to get them away from the two armed Alarsarians.
He nodded. “Right. Let’s go, then.”
“I’m ready.” Abigail declared.
Sarah smiled, but shook her head. “Stay here. You’ll need to take
charge of the Company while we are away.”
Abigail grinned sadly, as if she did not expect to see Sarah and Everett again. “I’ll take care of them.”
Clay stood and cinched the strap that held her rifle to her shoulder. “I’ll come with you.”
Sarah frowned. “Everett and I might be able to protect ourselves, but you would only be a target.”
The soldier settled back, not completely concealing her relief. “All right.”
Catching Everett’s eye, Sarah hurried out and he immediately rose and followed. Once through the door, she bounded up the ramped slit trench and then trotted up the sloping mound of the bunker to its apex. The view of the outskirts of Bayou Dorking and the battle lines beyond opened up before them.
“What’s your plan?” he whispered to her.
Sarah looked at him in askance. “What do you mean? I don’t have one yet.”
“So we just transport out?”
“What, into the midst of the battle? Of course not. We need to--”
“Hold on. Are you actually thinking of using our magic to attack the Zherians?”
“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”
“The two of us against an army?”
“Magic is on our side, Everett.”
“How do you know that?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Sorry, it’s just an expression.”
“Wait, so…but when…oh, never mind.”
“We can’t just run, Everett.”
“Why not?”
“The Zherians are my enemy, whether I want them to be or not. All of my family are in danger because of their aggression and the best thing for Kleinsvench is for this invasion to be stopped here.”
Everett shook his head tiredly at her patently selfish but impeccable logic and looked out toward the advancing Zherian mechanisms, which showed no sign of slowing as they raced through the Alarsarian defenses. He saw tiny flashes from the entrenched Royal Infantry and heard the distant rattle of their rifles, but apparently, as Clay had speculated, the large mobile artillery had armor plating that shrugged off small arms fire.
Inconvenient Magic 01 - Potatoes, Come Forth! Page 17