Hellsbaene: Odin's Warriors - Book 1

by Aeryn Leigh

  "How's school going? Are you making any new friends?"

  Still nothing, as her child grumped across the wooden floor, and picked up the detective story.

  "It's fine," Amelia said, leaping on to the sheets and making the rough springs squeak.

  "You don't look fine. Are you sure everything's okay?" Her brows furrowed.

  Amelia gave an exasperated breath. "Yes," Message Bear held tight against her chest.

  "Right. Amelia, you can tell me anything, I promise I won’t bite your head off. Yes?" She met her daughter's eyes, until the child nodded. "Where are we up to?" said Ella, tucking Amelia into bed, and picking up the pulp. "I've read it so many times I keep forgetting."

  "Chapter three," said Amelia. Zia purred at the end of the bed, keeping eyes on the puppies lying in a puddle together in the corner of the room. "Remember?"

  "I'm sorry," said Ella, "things are getting quite hectic. Okay." She found the page in The Scarlet Kiss and cleared her throat.

  "Chapter Three: Guns and Angels. Detective Tracy sat behind his oak desk, and contemplated the newspaper scrap he'd found on the dead body. A part of the headline still remained: 'GALA BALL AT LEI...' He grunted, then lazily swung his boots up onto his messy desk, and lit a cigarette. What a day, what a lovely day. He took a deep breath, and blew smoke rings up into the air, and took a finger of whisky.

  “Gala Ball? Not too many of those around, he thought. His handsome face saw shadows move in front of the smoky-glass office door, then the outline of Tommy guns, matte black against the textured glass. The Private Detective dived to the floor as the men poured a hail of death into the office from their mighty sub-machine-guns, a cacophony of sounds. No not my liquor cabinet! You bastards, you will pay!! He crawled over to the desk and stuck his face under the dripping whiskies."

  "Why does he do that?"

  "I don't know," said Ella. "He should be concentrating on finding his gun or remaining in safe cover, rather than crawling out into the open of the office to save the last of the drinks. Oak is tough wood."

  "Maybe they were presents from people he loved?" She hugged Message Bear tighter.

  "Oh, I'm not sure he loves many people."

  "So, like you," said Amelia, looking at her, eyes wide open, blinking.

  It seemed an eternity, but Ella at last fell asleep in her bedroom next door. She dreamt of flying, back in the Me-262, soaring above the clouds, but it wasn't her flying, someone else was. She stood on a mountain-top, watching the aeroplane fly by. A woman appeared, wearing a simple, white dress. "Do you want to fly again?” Ella nodded. "You don’t seem that keen. Would you do anything to fly?"

  "Yes, I would," said Ella. "Anything. I love flying." The jet-fighter streaked past.

  "Anything," said the woman in a flat monotone. She snapped her fingers. All of a sudden Ella was sitting in the aircraft, flying through the air, the entire world in front of her. She banked and rolled and did loop the loops and she smiled and laughed and then realised she couldn't move her legs. Ella looked sown and saw her legs welded to the aircraft, metal tubing and struts organically fused to her legs and even through them, the electrical cables wrapping around her limbs and puncturing them, working ever further up her body. No, no, no, she screamed, and screamed, and screamed —

  and woke.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Capture, Convert, Kill, Then Burn

  Thorfinn wiped the oil from his face. He turned around and saw his silhouette on the wall, outlined in oil spray. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

  Ella stood back up from where she'd ducked out of the way, and passed him the wrench.

  "Nice reflexes," said Rob, throwing Thorfinn a rag. Around them, men and women continued working in the newly-constructed Engine factory, as Fairholm's nascent engineering industry thrummed in its baby steps. The most recent rotary engine prototype sat on the metal cradle, and behind them, one of Damage Inc.'s rotary engines laid dis-assembled, as both mechanics and engineers referenced it.

  Thorfinn caught the cloth, threw it over his shoulder, and tightened the loose bolt from which the oil spouted.

  "Stand clear," said Thorfinn. He moved to the front of the engine, Ella grabbing the cloth as he went past. Thorfinn put on the leather gloves. "Contact." He spun the rough wooden propeller once more. The engine coughed, spluttered, and died.

  "Let me adjust the carburettor," said Ella, shoving her screwdriver into the tiny float bowl so it jammed open. "Now try it."

  "Stand clear — contact." He jumped back as the rotary engine fired, the unmuzzled roar sounding like Titan's thunder inside the enclosed building. Part of the propeller broke loose, spearing into the roof, and making an instant new skylight. Ella pulled the screwdriver out and covered the carburettor with the cloth. The engine coughed and hacked to a stop. In the silence of the factory the three exchanged looks then burst into joyful laughter.

  General Versetti, King Hffylson, Lucius and Laurie studied the Bay of Harmony and surrounds map, in the War Room. Men and women came up to them, to ask quick questions or receive further instructions, and left again. Little models rested on the map's surface, that people holding long sticks moved about.

  "So, what is typical Inquisition strategy?" said Lucius, his guts churning, "when invading?"

  "Capture, convert, kill, then burn," said Merrion, joining the group. "Sorry I'm late."

  "Okay then," said Lucius, "we hold them off for as long as possible here?" He pointed at a section of the map. "It's the closest thing we have to a choke-point."

  "That's where we've been building for the last half-year," said Marietta, "and concentrating our defensive works there. I'm just a bit worried about it."

  "So why am I here?" said Lucius. "I should be teaching."

  "Just a fresh set of eyes," said Laurie. "You know as well as I do, nothing ever goes the way you planned it."

  "Ah," said Lucius. "So, I get to play Mr. Bad Guy for a sec?"

  "Please," said General Versetti. Lucius stroked his chin.

  "Well, I'd park my big boat here," said Lucius, dragging the little model of the battle-cruiser into place into the mouth of the bay, "and use the guns to pound everything that resisted or fired upon me. The rest of my fleet," he said, moving the other ship markers, "I'd move past using the cruiser as cover and land at this beach here and here."

  "And our fleet?" said Beowulf.

  "Destroy them if they engaged, hunt them if they retreated."

  "And Odinsgate?"

  "Probably the same, I dunno, maybe just hang off the horizon and pummel it flat."

  "Thanks."

  "You're welcome."

  "Will they attack Odinsgate first?" said Laurie.

  "There's not much to be gained," said Marietta. "They have to get by us to get there. No, they will come after us first."

  "There's nobody left," said Laurie. Marietta just looked at him, and sighed in agreement.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Engineering Problems

  "Welcome to the Republic Air Force," said Ella, in a little hut by the top of the hill, next to the pair of glider runways. Two soldiers stood guard outside. The four women, and three men, the last seven of over one hundred applicants, saluted back.

  "No saluting here," said Ella. "Or when I'm around, anyway. I'm pretty easy going like that, but crash my gliders, and I'll tan your hide." She smiled.

  "Scherz. Kidding. Learning from our mistakes is what makes us better, if it doesn't break our neck first. Now, I've explained the basics of flight to you, and you seven passed the theoretical tests. The fun begins." The students looked at each other, and followed Ella outside.

  "Ah, Lucius, you're back," said Ella, seeing him dismount from the horse. He tied it to a fencepost.

  "Yeah," said Lucius. "Our new wannabe pilots?"

  "Yes," said Ella.

  "More meat for the grinder," said Lucius. He spat onto the ground in front of her.

  "Okay," said Ella, slowly. "A word, Lucius?" She
walked back into the hut, and Lucius followed her inside.

  "Look," said Ella, resting against the side wall, "I know you don't like me, but try and keep your negative scheissen to yourself when out there, okay?"

  Her heart beat like a manic drum.

  "I can do whatever I want, bitch," he said.

  "Wow," she said, "don't hold back. Ist was — what the fuck is your problem?"

  "My problem," said Lucius, stabbing a finger at her, "is you."

  "Really?" she said.

  "You killed him."

  "And I'm sorry about that. Truly sorry."

  "Fuck you."

  "You really are a piece of scheissen, you know that? The gott-damned fucking Vikings chain and kill your men, because you're black, and yet you're more forgiving around them than you are me?"

  The punch caught her in the lower stomach, right about where her uterus ripped apart monthly.

  Right where it currently was. Ella folded to the ground, a nova of pain exploding within her.

  Lucius looked at his hand, and then at Ella, lying foetal on the wooden floor. The blood pumped and thrummed through his veins, as he breathed hard. He turned his head and saw the students looking at him through the window. He heard her move.

  Ella's own fist cannoned up into his groin, and he sank to his knees. The fury that made her fire upon the bombers all those months ago, lifted her to her feet, and she kneed him in the face, cartilage crunching with a wet snap.

  Now Lucius laid on the floor, blood pouring from his nose, and he managed to lift his head, to see Ella standing over him, holding her PPK right at him, her other arm holding her belly. She thumbed the safety off. The rage called to her.

  Pull it.

  The soldiers entered the room, and stopped.

  Ella stood, wavering as she did. Her gun aimed right at his head, only a foot away.

  "Du schwein bastard. You killed my Helena, my Elizabeth," she said. "Your fucking bombers, bombardierung civilians, day after day after day."

  Her fingers curled more around the trigger.

  "I — am — sorry. But touch me once more, and I will kill you. I will not apologise again. Verstehst du? Do you understand?"

  He nodded. It was all Lucius could manage.

  "Okay then." She clicked the safety on and holstered her weapon, sinking to her own knees, next to him. The students came in through the doorway.

  "Is everything okay?" said Hilda Steffson, the tallest of the students.

  "It's fine," said Ella, "just a mild ingenieurproblem, richtig Lucius?" She passed out from the pain.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Death And Chocolate

  "Trench warfare is ugly, brutal, and there's no way getting around it, fucking terrifying. And that's even when it's sunny. Two weeks of rain, artillery and death and it will, ladies and gentlemen, suck your spirit from you." Captain Laurie John addressed the one-hundred and fifty lower-ranks of the Republic Army — the sergeants, lieutenants, and others that made the wheels of an army actually turn, as opposed to telling them to turn.

  Newly promoted Gunnery-Sergeant Griffin stood by his side.

  They all stood on the eastern edge of the Bay of Harmony, where the beach sand turned to soil at the beginning of the flat plain. Laurie and Marietta argued long and hard about it, but Laurie got his wish. From where high tide began, and the next six-hundred yards up the gently-sloping plain, no trenches or defensive/offensive structures were placed. From that point on, for the next two miles of once-grassy plain either side of the Fairholm river, the land swam with earthworks.

  Not the immediate areas of the beach.

  "We do not want the enemy to dig in, to use our trenches and support systems against us. For as long as possible, we need to make that open area of ground run slick with blood. Their blood. Artillery fire and ship wreckage will give them cover eventually enough over time, as the battle continues on. That's not even including shell craters and bodies of the dead which one can pile up."

  Laurie gestured, and the large group walked back to the start of the defensive lines.

  "Do you think it will take two weeks?" said Sergeant Gregorvich Breen, closest to Laurie of the group. He looked down as they walked, noticing the earth beneath his feet. "Won't it be over quickly either way? Word says we'll be home by dinner."

  Laurie's face twitched, and he stopped mid-stride. Skippy sat on her haunches. The rest of the group flowed past them, led by Griffin, as he turned to Gregorvich.

  "Over by dinner huh? Well at least something is constant between this world and the last."

  "And what's that?" said the Sergeant.

  "People being so full of grandiose shit they blow smoke up their own arse." He reached into a pocket and pulled out some beef jerky. Skippy now gave him her utter devoted attention. Laurie tore it in half. He stuffed jerky into his mouth, and chewed.

  "Mate, we want them stuck on that goddamn beach," he said, his mouth full. "Does the Inquisition ever withdraw if given a bloody nose? You tell me, you were born here yeah? Right."

  He swallowed, and used the last piece of jerky as a pointing stick, the poor animal watching and twisting her head following the meat with every movement Laurie made.

  "We need to bleed them dry in this Bay," said Laurie, "and hold them there and there." He stabbed the far away landmarks with the dried beef. “Blow them apart next to the target range buoys we’ve put out in the surf, and been practicing artillery on. They’re fanatical and loyal, well-trained, and well-armed... we need to puncture that as quick as possible. Make 'em choke on it." He tossed Skippy the jerky, the morsel inhaled into the ravenous dark maw.

  "And it's your job, Sergeant Breen, to make 'em break before we do."

  "Try it again," said Ella, the following day. She sat on the bench next to the flight hut, her back resting against the wall, one of the puppies lying next to her, Amelia’s favourite, Fang. The last puppy in the litter. "This time, not so much aileron just after the bungee releases, yes?"

  Hilda Steffson saluted, then blushed for saluting, went straight to nodding, and climbed onto the now reset glider, Pigeon, pulling her helmet on.

  On the other ramp, Loki Kroner saw the green flag go up showing that the cord was ready, and pulled the brake lever, and both him and Dove hurtled down the runway. Loki flew over two fellow students carrying the third glider up the hill, Lucius carrying the tail. They placed Sparrow on the launch assembly, and waited for the soldiers to pull the rubber cord up the hill, or more precisely, guide the horses hooked to the bungee rope up the incline.

  Max Hunter and Jill Scott both were huffing and sunburned from the day's exertions, as they stood by the glider. Hilda launched her glider next to them.

  "It's your turn Jill," said Lucius. "That was a good landing you did last time. Keep it up."

  "Thank you, Commander." Lucius and Max moved to the side, and Jill for the fifth time that day took to the air.

  "She's a natural at it," said Lucius. "And you are too, that's if you can stop showing off, Mister Hunter."

  Max Hunter rubbed his left eye. "I guess I can't help it," said the Junior Pilot. "It's just so incredible up there."

  "You need to stop helping."

  Damn his nose and balls still hurt from yesterday.

  "These are delicate airframes. Showing off is a terrific way to get you and your buddies killed."

  He looked at Ella off to the side. "But it is great up there. Just constrain your emotions."

  "Yes, Commander," said Max, as Lucius walked away, towards the sitting commander.

  "May I?" said Lucius, gesturing to the empty bench.

  "Oh sure," said Ella. Lucius sat down, and scratched the side of his plastered nose, where it itched like hell.

  They both watched the young pilots learn the craft of flying. Loki came down hard, but both glider and pilot seemed okay down the hill. A nearby soldier raised a green flag, and so the process continued.

  Ella went to speak, then stopped.

  Lu
cius cleared his throat.

  The puppy sat up, and whined slightly. Fang then chased his tail, faster and faster until his head smashed into Ella’s left shin.

  "They're getting big."

  "They are," said Ella, rubbing her leg, as now Fang chased a butterfly, an affront to all things puppy dog. More silence.

  "Horace always liked dogs," said Lucius. "Mad about them even as a kid."

  Ella turned her head to Lucius, then looked away.

  "I didn't want to fly," said Lucius. "But Horace joined the Air Force, always dreaming of bigger things. I'd made it to University, as a Professor, so I tried using my intellect to serve Old Glory but the R & D boys wouldn't have a nigger like me. Except as a pilot. Then a bomber pilot."

  He breathed out hard. "And even then, we were a joke, paraded around a different city every week selling war bonds.”

  "You didn't look like a joke when we met over the Channel," said Ella. "Flying a combat bomber is no ordinary feat."

  "Yeah," he said. "Guess so." He stared out at the gliders. "Can you walk?"

  "Not really," said Ella. "Griffin helped me up the hill this morning. Can't feel my right leg or my lower abdomen. Mick says I should be okay in a day or two, hopefully."

  "Yeah, about that."

  "What about it?"

  Lucius twisted slightly towards her.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "For your family. Punching you. And being an ass." He stuck out his hand tentatively, embarrassed.

  Ella reached out hers, and shook it. "I’m sorry too. I would have liked to have met Horace." She sighed. “The burdens of our past. Let's kill some wannabe Nazi's, ja?"

  "Kill 'em all," said Lucius, his gold metal tooth glinting. "I think I even have one last bar of chocolate back in my pack. I'll bring it tomorrow."

  "Death and chocolate," said Ella. "Way to a woman's heart."

  Chapter Seventy-Six