Free the North! (Free Trader Series Book 5)

by Craig Martelle

  She welcomed the intrusion.

  The Governor

  “What do you mean the army has broken?” Governor Anderle bellowed. He pounded his fists on the arms of the great chair. His boys stood by his side, anxiously fidgeting as their father’s anger shook every corner of the room.

  “But, Governor, I’m only reporting what we’ve seen. The strangers have great weapons from which gouts of flame destroy everything in their path. And the mutant creatures! They also have incredible weapons. We cannot stand before them. You must flee!”

  “NEVER!” he shouted. He waved over a man in uniform, his Sergeant-at-Arms.

  “Governor,” the man said in an even tone as he fingered the well-worn hilt of his sword.

  “It’s up to you and your guard to stop these fanatics. Are you up to it?”

  “Of course, Governor. We’ve trained our whole lives for this,” the man sneered. He half-bowed and strode off, shouting as he left the room where the Governor conducted most of his business.

  “Get our weapons,” he told his oldest son. The boy, about fifteen cycles old, smiled and ran through a back door, returning shortly with a longsword and two shortswords. He handed them out and each hefted their own weapon, checking its edge, getting comfortable with the weight in their hands.

  The Sergeant-at-Arms called his men together. They’d been ready since they heard someone was challenging the Governor’s authority. All they needed was the word to go forth and fight. They didn’t care for who, they only wanted to ply their real trade. These men were former criminals who the Governor had taken under his wing and allowed them to brutally put down designated enemies. They enjoyed what they did, too much, and longed to do more of it. They relished a battle with an experienced enemy.

  The Sergeant-at-Arms led his eight men out the front door, where they positioned themselves in a semi-circle. The Sergeant stood at the door while his men surrounded him, but he was no coward. He would direct the battle until a more personal engagement was called for.

  The companions walked into the square facing the Governor’s Mansion. Seeing the men arrayed before them, they spread out. The companions were outnumbered and worse than that, these men looked to be seasoned fighters. They weren’t the least intimidated by the companions. Micah saw the look in their eyes, it was the same that she had in hers–a person confident in their ability to kill.

  Braden stood in the center, Micah to his left and Zeller to his right. Bounder stood at Zeller’s side and Gray Strider to Micah’s left. G-War crouched next to Braden while Patrice and Delavigne protected the little girl in the back. Skirill perched on a nearby building while Zyena flew top cover, making sure no other enemy approached.

  “There’s no need for any of you to die,” Braden started. The men snickered and cat-called. Egos. Pride. The men were undoubtedly dangerous, but they acted as if Braden and the companions were not.

  Zyena floated toward the east. Arnie and Brandt were on their way and she would guide them. They refused to be left out of the final battle.

  “That’s right. You will all die right where you are if you stand against us,” Braden taunted. He and Micah pulled their bows, and as quick as they could, fired arrows at the men. The warrior in front of the door, clearly the leader, slashed the arrow away with his sword. The other man wasn’t so quick. Micah’s arrow embedded deep into his chest and he collapsed.

  “Inside!” the Sergeant-at-Arms shouted, leading the way and then holding the door for the others. Braden and Micah each got off one more shot before the men disappeared. Two more fell. That fast, the numbers evened out. Six on five.

  “We can’t go through that door,” Micah said. “Skirill?”

  He flew a tight circle around the building and showed them two more entrances. “Split up?” Braden asked, hating the sound of it as he heard it out loud.

  Micah shook her head and Braden breathed a sigh of relief. “Pick one,” he said. She pointed right and they ran for it. The sound of Arnie’s and Brandt’s hooves echoed behind them. They could help protect Nerise, but the final battle would be inside the wooden mansion where they couldn’t use their Old Tech firepower.

  Braden didn’t bother trying the door to see if it was open. He hit it at a dead run, tightening his shoulder muscles as he impacted with the heavy door. The deadbolt tore out of the old frame and the door flew open. Braden staggered through, followed closely by his partner and the rest of the companions.

  They were in a closed back room. Braden tried the next door. Pulling it open, he saw two of the guards they’d seen out front rushing toward him. He had no time to shut the door so he jumped back, fumbling to get his shortsword in hand.

  Micah and Zeller were there. Their blades crossed in front of the door as the first man lunged, trying to catch Braden unaware. He countered quickly as if expecting the fight. Blades flashed in the poorly lit room. Micah pressed her attack, but couldn’t expose herself by going through the door where the second man waited. The first was trying to draw her out. Zeller prodded the first man and he was challenged fighting both women, his best defense being the narrow confines of the doorway and the corridor beyond.

  ‘We must hurry before the others come,’ G-War urged.

  ‘Step aside, Zeller,’ Delavigne insisted in his dainty thought voice. She moved back and with a well-placed shot from his laser, Delavigne caught the man unaware, burning a tiny hole in his chest. The man hesitated, looking dumbly at the wound. Micah thrust her blade through his mid-section, ripping it out an instant later. As he started to fall, she was already out the door and engaged with the second man in a vicious exchange. It became readily apparent that the two were equally matched, well trained and experienced in the use of the sword.

  Micah had never been challenged like that before and it frightened her, but not so much that she lost her edge.. She rose to meet the warrior, thrust, parry, slash, block, counterattack. The swords rang as the battle raged. Braden worked his way into the corridor behind her and readied his bow.

  When you’re fighting for your life, everything is fair. The man dumped a decorative vase of flowers on the floor in front of Micah and stepped back, trying to draw her into the water, to make her slip. But she’d been thinking the same thing. She stepped back and waved him toward her, seeing if he’d take the bait. It also gave her a much needed break, she gasped for air, but to her credit, he was also winded.

  G-War couldn’t wait any longer he bolted into the hallway and darted past the two, disappearing around the corner.

  ‘Micah, lean left and I have a shot,’ Braden told her using his thought voice. She didn’t want to for the sake of honor, but they couldn’t get trapped. They needed to move.

  She lunged low, distracting her opponent and forcing him backwards, clearing a small space between the two and eliminating the chance of a return thrust. He loosed his arrow the instant the target was clear.

  The arrow hit metal somewhere beneath the man’s shirt, staggering him, but not penetrating. Delavigne’s laser burned a hole in the man’s face. He screamed as he dropped his sword and grabbed at the hole. Braden’s second arrow disappeared between the man’s forearms, tearing through his exposed throat.

  ‘Follow me!’ G-War encouraged and without further hesitation, they ran headlong down the corridor and around the corner. Open rooms were on the left and right, but they ignored those and ran straight into a receiving room at the front of the house, the place where the main door opened into. Two men stood there waiting, using their swords to hold G-War at bay. Micah and Zeller never hesitated as they took the battle to them. Swords clanged as the battle started to take shape.

  Micah was tired and the man, clearly her equal with a sword, was fresh. He beat her sword back and with a vicious slash across her chest, she went down. Braden fired an arrow from point blank range. It drove through whatever metal armor was beneath the man’s shirt, embedding firmly. The swordsman held his sword up while he struggled with his left hand to pull on the arrow, attempting t
o free it. Laser beams lashed out, striking him repeatedly. Patrice and Delavigne stood upright, noses twitching and ears forward as they watched the man collapse.

  Zeller was being driven back, but the other swordsman had seen what happened and angled to keep Zeller between him and the companions. It seemed like he was playing with her, nicking her arms, a shoulder, and drawing a line across one cheek. She started to fear him, the biggest step toward losing a fight.

  ‘He’s stalling until the others get here,’ G-War announced to no one’s surprise.

  With Nerise behind him, the Rabbits angled along the wall toward the front door. Their laser pistols hovered between the fight and an upper balcony where someone could appear and wreak havoc on those below. Braden drew his bow, aiming his arrow past Zeller, but the other swordsman was too wily. He bobbed and weaved, refusing to make himself a target.

  Braden wanted to end it. He knew Micah was still alive, but she was hurt. His neural implant flashed incessantly but he couldn’t open it. He needed to see everything before and around him.

  ‘Zeller, jump backwards and fall to the floor,’ Braden insisted. She hesitated, earning herself another nick on her arm. She threw her sword at the man’s face as she jumped backward, rolling into Braden’s leg. He was releasing his arrow as she hit and it pulled his aim far to the left.

  They were close enough together that the arrow hit the man in his forearm. He winced and his arm quivered, but he didn’t drop his sword. He shook his arm as if that would make the arrow fall out. The Rabbits’ laser beams danced along his body as they fired repeated short bursts. He looked confused as he fell, the last thoughts of a hard man that was killed by a Rabbit.

  Braden threw his recurve bow to the floor as he pulled his partner to him. She wore the light Old Tech shirt. It wasn’t full armor, but provided some protection. Blood ran freely from the wound. Micah was out cold and Braden didn’t know why. He fumbled for his numbweed while the others arrayed themselves around the two humans, protecting them with their bodies.

  Bounder and Gray Strider hadn’t been able to engage the enemy and that put them on edge. They felt ready for the next fight, eager to end the battle and finish the war.

  Braden spread the numbweed across Micah’s wound before seeing that she bled profusely from the back of her head. She had to have hit it on the floor when she fell. He added a little numbweed there as he cradled her in his lap, rocking as a small child would. He hugged her tightly to him.

  “So,” a voice intruded on their thoughts from the balcony, “this is what we’re fighting against? A bunch of mutants armed with Old Tech. It disgusts me. Your days are over, muties,” the Sergeant-at-Arms taunted. His sword was in his scabbard as he leaned on the railing looking down. His man, the last swordsman, stood with steel bared, at the ready.

  ‘G?’ Braden asked as he let anger flow into him, replacing his grief.

  ‘He wants to kill you and Micah. He doesn’t think he can win the battle, unless he can get your blasters or the laser pistols from our Rabbit friends,’ G-War enlightened the companions over the mindlink. Braden picked up his bow as he stood, nocking an arrow and pulling the back while still behind Bounder’s shaggy hide. Bounder stepped aside at the last instant and Braden fired, taking the swordsman through his eye. He dropped instantly.

  The Sergeant-at-Arms flinched as the arrow raced past him and into his fellow.

  “Looks like you’re all alone and your words ring hollow. I know you want some of this Old Tech for yourself, but that’s not going to happen, so if you would be so kind as to lay on the floor so we can be about our business, we’d appreciate it,” Braden offered.

  “We both know that I can’t do that. I’m sworn to protect the man behind these doors. Come on, now, let’s see what you’ve got.” The man smoothly drew his sword, checked its edge and slashed it through the air as he stepped away from the railing and out of sight. Bounder jumped toward the curving staircase landing in the middle. With one more bound, he landed on the top step, spear held firmly in his front hands/paws. He crouched, waving the point in a figure eight before him.

  The master swordsman assessed the Wolfoid before stepping forward, feinting and parrying. Bounder didn’t take the bait. He kept the point of his spear moving, waiting to get on better footing. The man stepped back and swung his sword in a wide and heavy arc. It hit Bounder’s spear right behind the tip. Instead of shearing off the point as he’d intended, it clanged off the metal beneath the wood exterior of the Wolfoid’s spear.

  “What the hell?” the man exclaimed, having been stymied in his attack.

  Bounder moved forward stabbing rapidly high, low, and back again. The man parried the furious attack. He snarled as he pulled a small knife and prepared to attack the Wolfoid with both weapons. Bounder realized that he probably could not beat this man in a straight fight as that attack was the best he had and all it did was make the Sergeant-at-Arms angry.

  Bounder lined the man up against the door and activated his weapon from a range of less than an arm’s length. The Sergeant-at-Arms’ body absorbed the full lightning blast, which blew his sparking and smoking corpse through the doors and onto the floor before a great chair where a man with a scowl was seated.

  The Wolfoid leveled his spear at the man and waited.

  Thunder struck the building, making it shake to its very foundation as the King of the Aurochs rammed the main door, ripping it from the frame. His great head looked into the room, seeing two wide-eyed Rabbits sheltering Nerise a hand-span from where the shattered door lay. Braden stood over Micah as she started to come to. Zeller positioned herself between them and the balcony, her sword at the ready as blood trickled from wounds all around her body.

  Brandt bugled his displeasure at the harm that had befallen his friends, but he could come no closer. His body wouldn’t fit.

  “Protect her,” Braden growled with a forced smile. He nodded to Zeller and the Rabbits.

  Braden tightened his grip on his bow, nocked an arrow, and slowly walked up the steps.

  Gray Strider and Bounder let him pass so Braden could enter the great room where Governor Anderle conducted the business of defiling the north.

  The Governor sat on his chair as if it were a throne. Servants cowered along the walls. Two young men, the spitting image of their father, stood to either side of the chair. The youngest tucked his long black hair behind his ear and held his sword up as if begging Braden to fight him.

  Braden slowly drew his bow back taking aim at the man in the chair, then changed aim and loosed the arrow at the boy, ripping the sword from his hand as fear flashed across his young face.

  “That’s right, son,” Braden said. “That’s how quickly you can die.” The Wolfoids entered the room and took positions at Braden's side. The boys shuffled nervously. G-War strolled in and walked along the wall, past the frightened servants. He jumped onto a side table and sat, seemingly disinterested in the affairs of humans.

  “The easy answer is kill you, but I think there’s been enough killing this day,” Braden said, trying to calm himself, but the thought of how this man stopped the trade infuriated him. The thought of Micah on the floor below made him want to end this and go to her.

  ‘Anything, G?’

  ‘Just wait, help is coming,’ the ‘cat said mysteriously.

  Jocelyn

  The Governor’s face worked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t get the words out. The youngest boy left his sword on the floor while the other held his far to the side, expecting it to be shot from his hand at any moment. The Wolfoids had their spears leveled at the dark-haired man in the chair. Braden had one of his last arrows ready to draw and fire.

  A side door opened and an elegant woman walked in. She wore only a bath robe, holding the hand of a little girl. They looked around the room. She nodded to Braden and the Wolfoids. The little girl struggled against her mother’s hand as she wanted to run to the creature holding the spear.

  “My name is Jocelyn,
” she said proudly.

  “Get out!” the Governor yelled. Braden fired an arrow that skimmed the man’s neck and thudded deeply through the padding and into the chair behind him. He clamped his mouth shut as fire burned behind his eyes.

  She gave up fighting with her daughter and let her go. The little girl ran past the spear and threw her arms around Gray Strider’s neck, hugging her fully as only a child could. Jocelyn smiled and strolled across the room. She scratched behind G-War’s ears. “You talked with me.”

  ‘Yes, my lady,’ G-War replied formally. Braden was surprised. G-War was usually such an ass. The ‘cat looked at him with disdain.

  “And you’re here to bring back trade?” she asked, turning to face Braden. He saw sadness in her eyes, while her face held the potential for a quick laugh and a twinkling smile.

  “I’m Free Trader Braden and yes, we are here to restore trade, give the people their lives back,” he said as he looked at the man on the throne.

  “Boys, go to your room,” she said firmly. They protested and their father put a hand on each of them, refusing to let them go.

  “If you don’t go, then you’ll get to see your father die and that will happen in three heartbeats if you don’t go now. I’ve let this go on long enough and can abide no more,” she said. She didn’t raise her voice, but it was loud and profound. The Governor released his sons. The older boy dropped his sword as both boys ran off.

  Leah finally stopped hugging Gray Strider, nuzzling the Wolfoid’s muzzle as she stepped back and looked adoringly at her new friend. She skipped past Braden to give Bounder the same treatment. He wanted to maintain his vigil, but Gray Strider growled at him. He raised his spear while the little girl waited impatiently. He bent down and she launched herself at him, hanging on to his thick neck. She couldn’t quite get her arms all the way around, so he cradled her with his foreleg and stood up, holding her to him.