More importantly, a part of him was excited by the win. But now his countrymen were giving in to their bloodlust; it sickened and horrified him to see the wanton death and destruction. All of that work the Imperials and others had put in to rebuild was now being torn apart.
It was not at all what he wanted, not at all what he'd imagined their revolution would be. It wasn't what the others had promised, and he kicked himself for being a fool and listening to them. Not that he'd had much choice. It had been to follow them or die! He shook his head in denial.
It was also all too real, and his part with being with the princess made him a target. He had to wed himself closely to the conspirators if he was going to survive and remain free.
That meant giving them good information and supporting them fully. The thought of what the Imperium would do to him if their plot failed sometimes bothered him. But he was in the moment; for now the threat of the Imperium was a distant thing.
~~~^~~~
Liam, the baker, tried to find a way out of the capital but couldn't see a safe way out. He hunkered down with his family. He had little wood for his ovens. The fools were looting everywhere. Homes and businesses that had been abandoned were being stripped of their valuables again. Even furnishings were being taken out and burned. One street over he saw a group tearing a house apart for the wood and material to burn rather than go out of their way to chop wood.
It was the dark time of the winter all over again. The bright time when the Imperials had been in charge was a bitter memory for him of a better albeit brief time. All too brief.
His people didn't deserve to be in charge. They were barbarians, animals, as dangerous to their own as to anyone else.
He vowed that if he and his family survived to vers , they'd find a way out, abandoning everything if they had to in order to find freedom and a better place to live.
Until then all they could do was hope, keep their heads down, and try to survive.
~~~^~~~
Olaf studied his beer and then the paper. He lifted it so his old eyes could see the writing. It was splotched with ink but the heart was there. His eyes stung as he read the letter of apology to his daughter and granddaughter. It was the least he could do to them, to try to apologize for his foolishness and for spurning them.
He had been a fool, both then and now. He knew that now. But there was no changing the course of action he'd set himself upon. He couldn't blame Percival or the others for recruiting him. He had made his bed, now he had to lie in it. He would see it through to the bitter end.
He ended the letter with an entry to stay away from the capital and have a good life and then signed it. He rolled it up, sealed it with wax and then pressed his ring insignia into the still warm wax. Then he lifted it to his lips and blew gently before kissing it.
~~~^~~~
The lordling convoy came into the capital without any forewarning of the changing of the guard. They were intercepted as they came into the center square ahead of the castle. A blocking force stopped them. When they demanded to be allowed to move forward, shots rang out, killing the drivers and peppering the carriages with bullets.
The surviving lordlings scrambled to find what cover they could as Percival angrily called for the shooting to stop. When it stopped, they saw a few of the people waving improvised white flags of surrender.
That started a cheer and contemptuous laugh from the militia.
Once the area was secured, Percival moved in behind them. He ignored the wounded that had been dispatched and focused on their gear. He pushed a few of the militia aside to see what they were looting. A few turned angrily to confront him for his interference but stopped when they recognized him by his clothing and cold demeanor.
He noted that the lordlings had very little supplies, just personal effects and belongings. They had a minimum amount of weapons, none of the new Terran ones and some retainers.
“Search their luggage. All weapons and things of value go to the castle,” Percival ordered.
“Sure, sure,” Stephan said with a dismissive hand wave.
“I mean it,” the dominus growled, locking eyes with the guard. Stephan grimaced at being shown up in front of the men but nodded.
“Keep the prisoners alive. We'll need them,” Percival said as he turned, whirling his cloak and then getting out of the blood-soaked snow and cold.
~~~^~~~
Augustus looked up at the sounds of shots. The others rattled their chains as they tried to stand and get near enough to the grates to get a look outside. They reported seeing boots of people moving around but the sounds were too distant. After a moment, they stopped.
~~~^~~~
Dominus Fenton was angry when he got the report. “No medicus? No smiths? No more weapons?”
“A few weapons but none of the rifles. Apparently, they were not from the capital.”
“Oh, that's just great!”
“The good news is that we took them with minimum losses. And we got their goods.”
“Goods?” the dominus perked up. “What sort of goods?”
“At least two of them had chests. One other had a chest, but it had been broken into and its contents were taken,” Sir Percival admitted.
The dominus worked his jaw as he did the calculations. After a moment, he nodded. “Well, something is better than nothing I suppose,” he grumbled.
~~~^~~~
Stephan was annoyed when the drott and Sir Percival came down on him for the ambush and for killing some of the lordlings after they had surrendered. He had tried to shrug it off but even Freya was not amused by the death. Apparently, she had gotten her fill.
Those who survived had been escorted to the castle, stripped of their valuables, and then locked up in the dungeon. After that they were someone else's problem.
~~~^~~~
Augustus listened as the lordlings angrily and bitterly described the ambush. They lashed out verbally at him and the others for failing in their duty. He finally called them to order with a bark.
Misery loved company apparently he thought.
“What is done is done. We cannot change the past. In order to survive, we must do so together,” he said, glaring them down.
A few muttered but they went silent. There was an air of sullen resentment but a few of the people in the crowded room nodded.
"It's only going to get worse before it gets better," Augustus said with a shake of his head.
"What of the princess?" a young man asked.
"We don't know. We've overheard that they locked her in a tower," Augustus admitted.
"Oh."
That started up a series of protests as some of the lordlings identified themselves as a son of a dominus. They demanded the same treatment and loudly proclaimed that their fathers would pay a ransom or come for them with an army.
"You may want to keep that to yourself," a miles said with a shake of his head.
"Why?"
"The leaders may value you, but the guards do not. Many still want revenge for the last war."
"Oh."
~~~^~~~
Zara had a view of the distant gate and the capture of the convoy train. The shots made her cringe. She was embittered by the sight of the white flag. She'd felt wild hope of a rescue but then saw them easily taken. They'd walked into the trap with no warning. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to those that had escaped the palace. Had they lived more than a day?
She felt one of the imps butt her hand and gently stroked it, trying hard not to give in to despair as some tears fell.
~~~^~~~
Percival was happy with the capture, right up until Dominus Fenton pointed out that they'd spent some of the precious powder to affect it. He felt good about the victory and angry at feeling robbed of that feeling by Fenton bringing him back down to the ground.
He watched the men clap each other on the back and even dance a jig or playfully mock the enemy. He decided to let them have their moment.
~~~^~~~
Some whispered that some of the southerners had escaped and that they would bring an army in vers . That sparked fear and resentment over the coup and their supporters for the trouble they were causing.
When she reported her spies’ findings, she saw the look of anger and resentment on her fellow leaders.
Drott Olaf shook his head. "They aren't wrong."
Stephan turned on the old general in shock. "You too? You take counsel from a widow and old woman's fears?"
"I see them as a cautionary tale, one to beware less we misstep. It is easy to do so; we have the capital …"
"Right where we want them!" Stephan insisted.
"Ah, but they can still take the rest of our lands!"
Stephan stared.
"What, didn't think of that did you? We have not sent a courier to parley with them since we wanted to give our people time to crack the means to the Terran weapons. That hasn't worked out."
Domina Rasmussen nodded grimly. “They can make a few of the parts but not all. And the powder eludes our best alchemists.”
"They will figure it out in time. We need to give them more time," Percival insisted.
"And more resources. Every time they need more it means less of the powder and weapons we have left. And they have not given us answers nor a means to copy everything. Some parts yes, but not all. Not the ones that truly matter," Olaf stated.
“But …”
"And the copies do not work as the originals do," Olaf said with a shake of his head. He had tested the Terran weapon, but when it came time to test a copy, his man-at-arms had insisted they try it in a test stand with a peasant boy. He was grateful; the weapon had exploded in fire and metal. The peasant had died.
"Then torture some of them for the answers we seek! Press the question hard enough and any man will surely break!" Stephan insisted.
"They don't know," the domina said heavily. All eyes turned to her. "I checked, none learned it, the makings of both the weapons and the powder were tightly held. None of the writings they had describe it. And torturing them will mean some may die. That means less hostages later."
"The domina is correct; we have been over this," Olaf stated.
"Surely one knows something?" Dominus Fenton asked. He wanted to return to his family and holdings, but the events in the capital as well as the snows had trapped him with the others.
"No, they don't. What they don't know, they can't tell anyone," the domina said firmly. She eyed the dominus. "Do you know every step in making the clothing you wear? The weapon you wield? Surely you have made your own from raw matter to finished …," she indicated him.
He scowled. His jaw worked and his nostrils flared at her and considered what she said.
Others stared at the tableau, unsure of what to say.
"That is true," Fenton finally admitted. It took a lot to admit that. "I know bits and pieces from what I've seen."
"You let the artisans do their work while you did your own," Rasmussen said with a slight head bow to him. "For you had more important things to do than weave cloth or make a shield."
"Yes, I just told them what shape and what to mark on it," he said testily. "You made your point."
"Thank you."
"If they do not know how to make the weapons, then they are of little value to us."
"Except as hostages as I said."
"Kill them and send their heads as a message not to enter our lands!" Stephan demanded. “Mount their bodies and heads on pikes!”
"And forewarn them? Show them our ruthlessness and they'll realize they can't save the princess and will hunt us all down, putting all lands to the sword."
"The Terrans will stop that. They are lily-livered,” Percival insisted. “They care not to shed blood,” he said in disdain.
"Will they? There are only so many. And the princess is kin to the one they call king, this Eugene. How do they react when angered? How much sway does he have over the queen?"
"That …"
"We don't know. Which is why we take steps cautiously. If we kill them, it is not something we can undo," the domina said patiently. She tried to make it sound reasonable and not as if she was explaining it to a child. She had to tread cautiously; she needed them. They needed to keep things together.
"Better a live tool than a dead one," Olaf said with a grunt.
"Exactly," Rasmussen said, relieved that at least the drott got her point.
~~~^~~~
Olaf looked to Percival. "What of the ones that got away?"
"We have been tracking them. We expect they'll turn south and run for home like the Garmr they are, with their tails between their legs," the knight said with a disgusted sniff. Training with the Terran-inspired weapons was a pain. There were only so many to go around. He'd figured out they could partially train troops on crossbows. They could also outfit some of the troops with crossbows with the hopes of upgrading them in the future.
After all, it was going to be a long hiems . There would be plenty of time to make the weapons they needed.
"But they haven't, at least not yet," Olaf murmured, bringing the knight back to the current conversation.
"No, not yet,” the knight admitted. “We have momentarily lost sight of them." He was certain they would die in a blizzard. But they couldn't rely on that; the drott was right. They had to hunt them down.
"Find them."
“We are working on it. I have placed forces on the roads leading to Farragut and others they may believe will support them.”
“And will they?”
“Not if they know what is good for them,” Percival growled.
Chapter 30
Science Expedition
Nate was watching a mixed herd of Gigasara, Branack, and Moonstrollers when a predator came out of the bush and came after him instead of the herd. One of the alert guards fired, shooting the predator. That turned the big cat-sized beast long enough for the others to get their weapons and fire as well. The beast staggered, growled, then toppled onto its side and fell.
It lay there panting until the guard went over and put another round through the base of its skull, putting it out of its misery.
Bic and the others came running up. They stared at the carcass and then looked at Mary and Nate. Mary was clinging to Nate, still in shock.
"What, wait, I thought you said just observe …?" a student demanded.
"That was him, not me," Nate said with a shake of his head.
“You're welcome,” the guard said dispassionately.
"But …?" The students looked from the beast to Nate and the others.
"I actually agree with him. But there is a limit. When it comes to our survival, I'll choose my own over an animal any day of the week. Him too, but he's a hypocrite and won't admit it," Mary said with a nudge to her partner.
Nate's jaw worked as his heart finally began to slow and his brain re-engaged. "Okay, I admit; he's right. We can't help anyone if we're dead." He nodded to the guard. “Good job.”
"Oh, wow, did you strain something there?" Mary teased, smacking him in the arm.
"Very funny smartass. Now, let's get some samples and then get out of here before the carcass draws others."
They documented the carcass with images and measurements. It had six legs so it was native, but it was lean and built for running prey down. It had feathers for a mane and fur on its back. It was counter shaded, with dark brown fur on top and white underneath. The head was reminiscent of a Komodo dragon but with donkey ears. It had three toe claws on each foot and very sharp teeth.
“I suspect now that the weather is turning, the herds are moving south to whatever comfort they can get. Other animals will have trouble digging for food during the long w
inter. The animals that evolved here have large fat reserves or go into torpor or hibernation. The animals that came here from Earth aren't so lucky,” Nate said as they took additional samples.
The guards wanted the skull and skin so they helped with that smelly gruesome task. When they finished, they noted the herd was near. They got clear and watched as the herd nudged the carcass, even rubbing up against it.
“I don't see any of the pack,” a student said. Another pointed to a clearing. They watched as the predators looked up and then turned and ran away.
Hostage Rescue (Princess Rescue Inc Book 2) Page 40