by Tom Larcombe
“That was good thinking Anselm. I forgot about the guide entirely in my anger.”
“I was wondering Merlin, what happened? All of the sudden you were doing something and the wind increased and everything froze.”
“What happened was a combination of science and magic. I read about the atmosphere while we were back at the base. Just a short while ago, less than twenty years, a scientist discovered a portion of it called the mesosphere. It has high winds and the temperature can freeze a man to death in seconds. I channeled part of it down to us.”
“I only understand part of what you just said. I suppose my real question was, why?” Anselm asked.
“You weren't watching the soldiers, were you?”
“No, I was keeping an eye on the guide so I could protect him.”
“The leader of that SS squad planned on raping Nimue. I could see it in his expression. I lost my temper a little bit.”
Gunter gave a self-satisfied grunt.
“See, I told you he would have a good reason. It's good enough for me at least. Defending a woman, even if she isn't helpless, is always a good plan.”
Gunter turned and walked towards the food.
“How could you tell?” Anselm asked.
“You haven't worked on watching people like I suggested, have you?”
“No, it didn't really seem related to studying magic.”
“Watch them long enough, see what reactions and expressions accompany their actions, and you can read their intent. It may not be directly related to magic, but it's certainly related to survival. I reiterate my suggestion that you practice it. It's better to surprise your opponent than to allow them to surprise you.”
“I'll try to spend some time on that if we make it back to the base.”
“When, Anselm. When we make it back to the base,” Merlin chided.
It was several hours before Merlin was in shape to be on the move. Then they waited one more hour for night to fall before leaving. The time wasn't wasted. Gunter gathered up the one remaining assault rifle that was functional and a massive pile of ammunition for it. As he considered how much he could take with him, Anguis approached the pile with a hungry look in his eye.
“Looks good to you does it?” Gunter asked.
Anguis nodded.
“Let me see how much I can carry, and the rest is yours if you like.”
The dragon curled up on the floor next to the ammunition and waited.
Gunter loaded up as much ammunition as he thought he could carry and then gestured to the remaining pile.
“It's all yours Anguis.”
Anguis tore into the pile like a starving man at a feast. Gunter backed off a few feet when he saw the vigor with which the dragon was attacking the pile of ammunition.
The dragon stopped for a moment and sparks flew from his mouth as he hiccuped. He drew his head up, a curious expression on his face, and belched. Gunter dove for cover as a jet of flame shot from Anguis' mouth. The dragon's expression changed to one of joy and he ignored his normal distaste for the spoken word. In his excitement, his sibilance was nearly unnoticeable.
“Merlin, Praesagium was right. He told me I'd find a volatile that would let me breathe fire. He was right, this is it!”
“Gunpowder?” Gunter asked. “Anguis eats metal and uses gunpowder to breathe fire? We need to turn him loose on the German ammunition depots.”
“That's wonderful Anguis. I'm sure we can find gunpowder for you as needed,” Merlin said. “You should have told us though, we could have tried a few things out earlier.”
Anguis' excitement was not strong enough to keep him speaking aloud.
{Sorry Merlin, he said I'd find it but he didn't know when. I didn't want to get your hopes up.}
“That's alright Anguis. I'm very proud of you. It's a wonderful skill and Praesagium said that not all dragons have it, either naturally or through substances, so you're more a dragon now than many were before.”
Anguis beamed with pride as he went back to the pile of ammunition. Forewarned, he ate more slowly, storing the gunpowder within himself for future use.
Nimue climbed the ladder and peeked out.
“It's dark enough now, time for us to leave,” Nimue said
Merlin wasn't sure how much use he'd be unless he started to use the power in his crystals, but he agreed with Nimue that they should attempt a rescue. Not only was it the right thing to do, but the path they planned on taking was now known to those holding the refugees prisoner. They needed to make sure that knowledge didn't get passed back to the rest of the Germans.
The guide led them through a frozen wasteland as they left the basement. The hail was piled inches deep and the near freezing temperature prevented it from melting very much. Debris from the ruins, and the trees which were destroyed by the storm, was mixed with the hail. The first half mile of their trip was fraught with the danger of a misstep that could twist or break an ankle. Once they made it that far, the conditions quickly returned to normal. By the end of the second half mile, the ground was clear and the chilly breeze was close to the normal temperature for this time of year.
Halfway through the night, they approached a small town. It was blacked out to prevent bombing, but soft noises and woodsmoke betrayed its location.
“That's where they were holding them earlier today. I doubt there's been enough time to get transportation for them so I'm guessing they're still in there,” Reynard said.
Merlin paused and sent his awareness through the town to scout.
“The refugees are still being held in town. They're guarded by two men. So, here's what we'll do...”
* * *
Chapter 12
Gunter led the way into town in an easy, confident walk. Merlin, behind him, used the haughty stride of an SS officer. Their uniforms were exact duplicates of those the SS wore. This time Merlin had used a touch of power from a crystal to physically change them. He didn't want the distraction of holding an illusion for the length of time he anticipated they would be needed.
The transmutation was easy. Taking Brenda's lead, Merlin recovered a portion of cloth from an SS uniform after their earlier encounter. He used that portion's memory of the whole as a template for the change and the whole process used only a tiny bit more power than an illusory change would have.
Gunter approached the holding area for the refugees. The Germans had commandeered a small house in the center of town. They crammed all seventeen refugees into the house, which was designed to comfortably hold four people. Then they posted guards at the front and back doors.
Gunter approached the guard on the front door.
“We're here to transport these Undesirables.”
He doesn't much like his dialogue, Merlin thought. I can tell that even without magic. I hope the guard reads it as distaste for the task at hand though.
“You weren't supposed to get here until morning,” the guard replied.
Merlin caught the guard's attention and stared at him with distaste.
“It is morning. Three in the morning to be precise,” Merlin said.
“Yes, but...”
“But what? Sloth is never to be encouraged. These guards were underutilized so I brought them at once. Efficiency, you see? This way they will be available for other duties more quickly.”
The guard regained enough courage to reply sarcastically after he accepted Merlin for the stereotypical officer he was emulating.
“Where's your truck, sir? I don't believe your guard here is capable of carrying this many people.”
“They should be here any moment now,” Merlin replied.
{Nimue, do you have their truck yet?} he sent.
{Just disguising it now, we'll be there in two minutes.}
“I believe my men are being slothful themselves, I shall have to speak to them about it,” Merlin said. “Although why they would want to spend more time than necessary in this provincial area I do not know.”
The sound of an approaching
truck put Merlin, and the guard, at ease. The recently stolen truck pulled up in front of the house and the guard showed no signs of recognition, despite it being the one used for his own transport. Using an illusion, Nimue was subtly altering the shape and color of it as well as drastically changing the identification numbers.
The discovery that Reynard was able to drive the German trucks was a boon for Merlin's plan. It allowed Merlin to take Gunter with him as a guard when he entered the town. It also gave Reynard the opportunity to assist in the plan without his injuries slowing him, and the rest of them, down.
The guard stood to attention and looked at Merlin.
“I release the Undesirables to you sir. Shall I stand guard while you load? I see you only have four men.”
Merlin waved dismissively.
“No, that won't be necessary. We SS officers have our ways, you know?”
The guard glanced at the crystal he wore about his own neck, swallowed, and turned to depart.
Merlin realized the flaw in his plan just in time. If the man returned to where he was quartered, he would notice that the truck was missing.
“You may, though, double the guard on the back door until we're done. I have enough men to control the loading but not to cover the additional exit as well,” Merlin said.
“Yes sir, I'll get right on that sir.”
Gunter opened the front door and held it for Anselm to enter first. As he passed through the door Nimue dissolved the illusion on his uniform so it appeared in its original USO form instead of the SS uniform the illusion showed.
Merlin followed behind while Gunter stayed outside. Merlin used a touch of energy to show himself clad in the illusion of his own USO uniform instead of the SS one he'd transmuted it to.
Anselm was scanning the small house.
“How many are there supposed to be?” he asked.
“Seventeen, I hope they're all ready to leave. We need to get moving quickly before they notice that their truck is missing.”
“Don't worry about that, Nimue left an illusion of their truck where it was parked. She said it'll last until the sun strikes it.”
By now the refugees were paying attention. The fact that Merlin and Anselm wore non-German uniforms was noticed also.
“Get us out of here!”
“What happened to the Germans?”
Questions were flung over and over until Merlin held up a hand for silence. He spoke in a voice just loud enough for the refugees to hear.
“We've convinced the Germans that we are also Germans and are here to transport you to the camps. In reality, Reynard is with us and he knows a place that can be used for larger groups in emergencies. This qualifies, and he's going to take us all there,” Merlin said.
“You're going to have to act as though you're prisoners who think they're headed for the camps while we get you out of here though. We've stolen a German truck for transport so don't be surprised when you exit the house. If you need reassurance that we're telling you the truth, look at the driver and you'll recognize him. Be warned that you'll see German uniforms on some of our people,” Anselm added.
“Now we need you to line up at the front door and we'll all get out of here,” Merlin said.
The refugees formed something vaguely resembling a line. Merlin shook his head and decided it would do. He opened the front door to find Nimue speaking to an SS solider. She was gesticulating wildly and speaking loudly. When the front door opened she looked over towards the house.
{Merlin, get this man off of me. He's asking for some time with one of the prisoners he noticed. He won't take no for an answer.} she sent.
Merlin escorted the front of the line to the back of the truck and started them loading. The line shortened as the refugees entered the truck. When there were few enough for Anselm to look after, he walked over to Nimue.
“What's the problem here?” he asked.
Nimue, in her disguise as a male SS soldier, answered.
“This man is insisting on having an hour with one of the prisoners.”
“I was promised time with her. It was to reward me for my efforts,” the man insisted.
“Sorry, we need to be moving. We've got a schedule to keep and other tasks to perform,” Merlin said.
The man tried to push his way past Merlin and Nimue but Merlin held him back.
“I said no. Are you in the habit of disobeying superior officers?”
The man looked more closely at Merlin, this time noticing the officer rank tabs.
“Sorry sir, no sir. I didn't see your rank in the dark sir.”
“You might want to pay better attention next time. Some officers would've simply taken it as an excuse to punish you.”
The soldier backed off but kept his eyes on Merlin.
{If there's no-one watching, put him to sleep. Make it last until morning. We'll drag him into the house these people were in.} Merlin sent to Nimue.
Merlin advanced towards the soldier who dropped his eyes to the ground. When the soldier began to slump, Merlin caught him before he fell. With Nimue on the other side they took the soldier into the house and left him in the entry hall. The refugees were all loaded by the time they exited the house. Nimue joined Anselm in the back of the truck while Gunter and Merlin rode in the cab.
“Let's go Reynard,” Merlin said. “You're sure we can reach this place before dawn?”
“Yes, it's just over a two hour drive from here and the fuel tank is full. As long as you manage to remove the tracks like you said you can, we'll be undetected there.”
“Go. We'll erase the tracks once we're closer. It will take some effort on our part and we may need to slow down while we do it.”
Reynard put the truck in gear and they left town as quickly as they could
* * *
At the two hour mark, Reynard slowed down when he turned off the paved road. The wizards in the truck began removing the tracks left behind on the dirt road they were following. They alternated, each taking the task for a few minutes before handing off to the next, so they wouldn't tire and use more power than necessary.
The struck stopped in a clearing at the base of a rocky hill.
“I need to go let them know we're here,” Reynard said.
He slid out of the truck and walked to the face of a small cliff. Merlin couldn't tell what he did but a small surge of magic preceded a door opening in the cliff itself. A short, stocky man walked out and Merlin smiled.
Perhaps I won't have as much of a problem finding Verruckt as I expected, he thought.
Reynard and the man carried on a brief discussion. The man returned into the hillside and Reynard entered the truck again. As Merlin watched, the cliff face sank into the hill, then slid to one side. Reynard started the truck moving and slowly drove into the hill. Merlin erased the remaining tire tracks before the cliff face slid shut behind them.
* * *
Anselm and Nimue unloaded the refugees from the back. As they did so, Merlin noticed that Anselm seemed rather taken by one of the young Gypsy women. While the rest were simply allowed to climb out the back of the truck, Anselm lifted this young lady down and was gifted with a brilliant smile for his efforts.
Merlin turned to find their benefactors. Several older Rom stood with two short, stocky, bearded men. The Rom spoke to the refugees before escorting them deeper into the hill. Merlin addressed the shorter men.
“I'm to understand that you've made yourselves available for emergencies among those trying to flee the country?” he said.
“That would be the case. Reynard has told us something of what has occurred. We would ask that you tell us the entire story during your stay here,” one of the short men said.
“I thought that perhaps you might be kin or kind to a man I once knew briefly. Now I'm sure. Do many of your kind value stories so highly?”
“All of us do. They are memorized, written down, and stored safely. Might I know your name? Reynard simply referred to you as companions.”
; “The last time I revealed my name to one of your kind I was not believed. Have you heard any stories from Verruckt Bergmann recently?”
“The mad wizard? Yes, his most recent stories claim that myths of old live once more.”
“He would be correct. My name is Merlin and this is my wife, Nimue. The other two with our party are Gunter and Anselm.”
The man was obviously taken aback.
“You'll forgive my disbelief,” he said.
“It seems I must. We're here by your hospitality. I assure you I'm not lying though. Have you a wizard amongst you to affirm my veracity?”
“No, we only have a Stone Seeker here.”
“A Stone Seeker?” Merlin asked.
“One who divines the best places to sink a shaft. They perform other divination as well. He might be able to do something though. Let me send for him.”
The man sent the second bearded man at a run deeper into the hillside. Then he turned back to Merlin.
“My name is Zuchter. If you've lied to me you will learn to fear that name.”
The ensuing wait was uncomfortable but short-lived. A third short, stocky man approached. When he caught sight of Merlin he called out to Zuchter.
“See, I told you the raptor would land among us.”
“What are you talking about?” Zuchter asked.
“Several nights back, I told you a raptor would land among us. I recognize Merlin from Verruckt's stories. Since, in English, a merlin is a kind of raptor, one has now landed among us.”
“I despise divination that makes no sense until it has come to pass,” Zuchter said softly.
Zuchter turned in surprise when Merlin answered him.
“I must agree, divination is the one branch of magic I have as little to do with as possible.”
“How did you hear me?” Zuchter asked. “I spoke as softly as possible and under my breath.”
“For the moment, assume that I am who I say I am. Do you think I would not use everything available to increase my senses and, as a result, my chance of survival?”
Zuchter nodded.
“I would think it wise, and possibly necessary. This doesn't mean I'll accept that you're Merlin yet, although it seems that the Stone Seeker does.”