Stuck In Magic

by Christopher Nuttall

  Fallon’s hand dropped to her wand. “That was not a show,” she snapped. “She was trying to escape a man stronger and nastier than her!”

  “We need to hear from the other witnesses,” I said. I didn’t want to interrogate the victim if it could be avoided. “And then we need to decide what to do.”

  “Agreed.” Rupert’s voice was very quiet. “Bring in the other witnesses.”

  I forced myself to listen as the story was told and retold. There were no obvious discrepancies, no suggesting the story might be nothing more than a put-up job. I’d seen terrorists and their supporters claiming our troops had carried out all sorts of atrocities, but the vast majority of their stories simply hadn’t held water. This one did. I could easily believe the cavalryman had decided he was going to have sex and to hell with what the girl wanted. I shuddered in disgust. Even a very junior nobleman, a step or two above the merchant classes, could have easily found a willing partner. Damn the man.

  The man himself didn’t help his case, when he was brought before us. He veered back and forth between insisting she’d wanted him and acting as if he was the victim, simply by being forced to answer for his conduct. It might have been more effective if he’d stuck to one story, I reflected; his entitlement complex, fully a match for his superior’s, made it clear he hadn’t cared in the slightest about the poor girl’s feelings. I’d known too many men like him.

  “He’s innocent,” Harbin said, when the witnesses were ordered to wait outside the tent. “Let him go.”

  “He doesn’t sound innocent,” I pointed out. “And we need to bring him to book.”

  Harbin shrugged, dismissively. “What is one slattern compared to the war effort?”

  I had to keep myself from lunging at him. “My Lord,” I said with icy patience,

  “the war effort will be badly hampered if we are seen as … predators. Here comes the new boss, they’ll say, just like the old boss. We need the support of the townspeople, and everyone who dwells within enemy territory, if we are to win the war. If they turn on us, we might lose. We need to make an example out of him.”

  “And if we hang him for a little bit of fun,” Harbin pointed out smoothly, “the war effort will be damaged anyway.”

  “I can see your reasoning,” I conceded. It was hard to hide my disgust. “But if we lose the war, his family – and yours – will be for the high jump anyway.”

  “It was a little bit of fun,” Harbin said. “What does it matter?”

  “It matters to her.” I felt my temper snap. “We came as liberators. We made it clear to the troops that atrocities will not be tolerated. That … that bastard has ruined her life and left her damaged and …”

  “It isn’t as if he took her maidenhead,” Harbin said, dismissively. “It didn’t get that far …”

  Rupert straightened. “Hang him.”

  Harbin coughed. “Rupert, are you quite out of your mind?”

  “No.” Rupert looked at me. I saw grim resolve on his face. “Hang him. Now.”

  I stood and bowed. “Yes, My Lord.”

  Harbin coughed, again. The confusion on his face was clearly visible. He’d

  assumed Rupert would support him, conveniently forgetting that he had tried to rape Rupert’s sister. Perhaps, without that experience, Rupert wouldn’t have understood how bad things could have become … I grimaced as I made my way through the door and onto the street. The poor girl might not have lost her maidenhead, and her chance of a good match, but the rumours would damage her anyway. And the war effort would be damaged too.

  And if Rupert takes the blame for hanging the bastard, I thought, it will be harder for anyone to question it.

  I winced, inwardly, as I started to bark orders. The rapist stared in disbelief as I took a rope, wove it into a noose and slung it over the nearest tree, then started to shout. I wrapped the noose around his neck, then pulled the rope until the noose strangled him. I felt sick. I’d killed men before, but this …

  it had to be done, I told myself. It had to be done.

  The body dangled in front of me. I tied the rope into place, then stepped back to allow the townspeople – and the soldiers – to stare. We hadn’t had a choice.

  The rapist bastard had been guilty, but if we hadn’t punished him we would have been guilty too. And … I hoped my men would learn the lesson, before I had to hang another. It would have been a great deal harder to keep them disciplined if they’d watched an aristocratic rapist get away with it. I knew idiots who’d openly asked why they couldn’t do things they’d seen others do …

  Harbin stormed out of the tent, looked at the body and glared at me. “I’ll see you pay for this.”

  “For obeying an aristocrat’s orders?” I cocked my eyebrows, wondering if he’d take a swing at me. I might have to grab a horse and run, if I punched his lights out, but it would be incredibly satisfying. “Or for doing what I had to do to make sure the war effort doesn’t falter?”

  His glare grew worse, somehow. “After the war is over, I’ll make you pay.”

  He stormed off. I resisted the urge to make a rude sign at his retreating back.

  There were just too many watching eyes. A smarter man might have tried to turn the whole affair to his advantage, sneakily blaming Rupert for overriding him after he’d done everything in his power to save the rapist’s life. He’d probably get his wrist slapped for failing, but … it wasn’t as if there’d be real consequences. I sighed, inwardly, as I turned back to the command tent and stepped inside. Harbin was going to have to go. There were no other options.

  Rupert looked up at me. “Did I do the right thing?”

  “Yes.” I was sure of it, although I knew his family – and the other families –

  would disagree. “If the townspeople turned against us, it would have made it harder for us to win.”

  Rupert shook his head. “I didn’t do it for them. I did it for Gayle.”

  “It doesn’t matter why you did it,” I assured him. “All that matters is that you set a good example to the troops.”

  “Hah.” Rupert stared at the map for a long cold moment. “We’d better win another victory quick before his father hears the news.”

  “Yeah.” I considered, briefly, asking the magicians not to send any messages from Harbin, or simply lose them in transmission, then dismissed the thought before I could try to put it into action. They’d be in real trouble if Harbin realised what they’d done. Besides, Harbin was a horseman first and foremost.

  He’d send a letter with one of his men. “And we need to regroup and continue the offensive as soon as possible.”

  I checked the map, then summoned messengers and started to issue orders. The

  cavalry could head north, deeper into enemy territory, while the infantry readied defence lines and prepared themselves to resume the offensive. I was fairly sure the warlord would have dispatched troops as soon as he heard we were on the march, perhaps before he’d realised just what we could do. I liked the idea of him impaling himself on my defences. I didn’t want to meet him in the field if it could be avoided. My men just weren’t experienced enough for a fluid battle.

  Although they’re getting there, I told myself. We’ll have plenty of experienced troops soon enough.

  We finished laying our plans, then emerged from the tent to walk the streets and speak to the junior officers and soldiers. The rapist was still hanging where I’d left him, his body a silent warning to anyone who ignored my orders; I was mildly surprised none of the cavalrymen had tried to cut him down and cart his body back to his family. Perhaps they hadn’t liked him or … I frowned. I’d made sure to scatter the cavalry, sending them out to scout the landscape before Harbin had any bright ideas about launching a coup and seizing control of the army for himself, but they hadn’t all gone. Harbin himself was sulking in his tent, probably composing angry messages to his father. Or trying to convince Lord Winter to ally with him to remove Rupert from his position.

  The
town felt … safer, I decided, than many of the places I’d seen in the Middle East, although there were still only a handful of women and children on the streets. I wasn’t too surprised. The locals carried swords and daggers openly, something that would have gotten them arrested and executed only a few short hours ago. They’d taken them from the dead bodies, I guessed. Only a handful carried muskets and pistols, almost all from us. My agents were, even now, preparing themselves to head further into enemy territory.

  I left Rupert in the command tent, then crossed the boundary line and headed into the army camp. It was very makeshift – two-thirds of my men were going to be sleeping on the hard ground, rather than under canvas – but it would suffice.

  They’d made sure to dig latrines and enforce strict sanitation, rather than letting the men crap where they liked. Horst was barking orders at the newer recruits, directing them to dig more trenches along the edge of the town. I nodded in approval. It was always better to keep the troops busy. I knew from my own career that bored and aimless soldiers tended to go looking for trouble.

  “Sergeant,” Horst greeted me. “The men were very impressed with how you handled the shithead.”

  I nodded. That was good, at least. They’d seen me hang an aristo. If I was willing to do that, I would have no qualms about hanging a commoner too. “Did you make it clear they’d be hung too if they did the same thing?”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” Horst assured me. “I think they took it to heart.”

  I hoped so. I very much hoped so. I didn’t want to have to hang any more of my men.

  We toured the camp, then I headed back to the town as night started to fall.

  I’d ordered additional patrols, just to be sure the enemy didn’t have a chance to sneak people into the town or the army camp, but I was all too aware we didn’t know the land as well as I would have liked. The locals would make good scouts, given the chance, yet … I wasn’t sure we’d have time to recruit them.

  They might be reluctant to commit themselves openly. If their former masters returned …

  Two days passed. Nothing happened, not even a rebuke from the city. I fretted about what they might be thinking, then relaxed – slightly – as our supplies arrived on schedule. The troops replenished their supplies, then continued to prepare for the next advance. I moved from unit to unit, speaking to the men as I kept a wary eye on Harbin. He’d been very quite since our last meeting. I

  was sure he was up to something.

  Rupert greeted me when I returned to the command tent, after spending the morning inspecting the troops. “Harbin has asked if he can join us for lunch,”

  he said. “I said yes.”

  I nodded, silently checking I was still carrying my pistol. Harbin might be doing something stupid, but … there was no way I could say no. I’d scattered most of his men and I doubted my men would take orders from him, not without checking with me first. I didn’t think he’d had time to actually plan something, but …

  “The locals seem to think they’ll be in charge of these lands, after the war,”

  Harbin said, as he joined us. “They don’t understand we’re going to claim them for ourselves.”

  “Best not to tell them,” I said, dryly. Harbin was going to die. I intended to make sure of it personally. As soon as I came up with a plan, he would be a dead man. “We need to keep them onside.”

  Harbin gave me a look that suggested he’d seen more impressive people lying in the gutter outside a particularly vile – and cheap – pub. “Do you think you’ve won anything?”

  “The war isn’t over until we make the warlord kiss our ass,” I said, keeping my voice under tight control. The aristocrats might speak of peace, once we’d convinced the warlord to take us seriously, but I knew better. We were locked into a fight to the death now. The warlord had to be crushed, to convince the others to leave us alone, or he’d crush us. I had no illusions about how long we could keep our advantages, such as they were. We had no monopoly on cannons or muskets or even anything else. “And that means we need all the help we can muster.”

  I heard something rattle outside the tent. My hand dropped to my pistol as the flap opened, then relaxed – slightly – as Fallon stepped into the tent. Her eyes were grim.

  “My Lord.” She looked unsure who she should be addressing, so she kept her eyes fixed on the table. “We just received a message from Barrow. The serfs are revolting and they want our help.”

  I blinked. “Barrow is quite some distance away,” I said. “It’ll take us hours

  – days, perhaps – to march there.”

  “Not on horseback,” Harbin said. “We could get there very quickly.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “And if we help the serfs to win, we might just shorten the war.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  And why, I asked myself, do I feel as if I’m about to rerun the Battle of Little Bighorn?

  I clung to the horse for dear life as we galloped down the road, heading north as fast as our beasts could carry us. Harbin’s cavalry took the lead, followed by my company of mounted skirmishers, men I’d trained to ride horses to the battlefield and then dismount when the fighting actually began. The concept had puzzled the locals, with Harbin and the other traditionalists sneering at it, although some of the younger aristocrats had started to see the value. Battles were often determined by who got there first, with the most, and horses were the quickest way to travel unless you were a powerful magician or had them on your

  payroll.

  Fallon’s grip tightened as we picked up speed, dust billowing in the air. I tried to ignore the feel of her breasts, pressed against my back. Taking her was a risk, yet it had been one I’d been forced to accept. I needed a communicator and she was the only one with a chat parchment linked to the northern rebels. And there was no way we could put her in a carriage. The odds of a wheel breaking – or worse – as the horse-drawn carriage careened down the road were just too high. I wished I’d been able to pass her to someone else, but who could I trust?

  I scowled as my eyes sought out Harbin’s back. He’d been very enthusiastic about the operation, helping me to throw it together with astonishing speed.

  Rupert seemed convinced Harbin was looking for a victory, a way to gain enough prestige to challenge Rupert for overall command, but I wasn’t so sure. The idea of letting Harbin take command of the operation didn’t sit well with me.

  If nothing else, he and his men would give the revolting serfs a poor impression of the army and then all hell would break loose. I’d heard enough jokes about the serfs being revolting, in all senses of the word, to fear what would happen if Harbin was left unsupervised.

  The horse kept going, somewhat to my surprise. I was no horseman – my military service hadn’t included anything on horseback, at least until I’d found myself in a whole new world – but I was sure the beasts should have been slowing by now. Harbin’s bragging had struck me as exaggerated, back when we’d been planning the operation, yet … I was starting to think he might have been right.

  We were covering the distance at astonishing speeds. It was possible, I told myself, that the horses had been bred – or enhanced – for war. Magic could do a lot of things I hadn’t considered possible.

  Fallon shivered against me. I hoped she wouldn’t lose her grip. Rupert had taught me how to ride – apparently, half of it lay in confidence – but I didn’t even begin to have his experience. I almost wished I’d brought him with us, rather than leaving him to bring the rest of the army in our wake. He could have carried Fallon without any real problems, although … I shook my head.

  There was no point in second-guessing myself. I’d made the right decisions, based on what I’d known at the time.

  The landscape started to change, becoming greener. Barren and dying fields gave way to green croplands, planted with everything from wheat to fruit-bearing trees. Small channels carried water to the crops, carefully tended by the locals. We galloped through hamlets and tiny vi
llages, the largest so small it would have vanished without trace in the city; I gritted my teeth as we rampaged through fields that, before we arrived, looked to be ready to be harvested.

  There was no point in trying to stop Harbin. We had to get there before it was too late.

  And besides, I told myself, never give an order you know won’t be obeyed.

  The landscape grew darker, I noted, as we kept going. Here and there, farmhouses were nothing more than burnt-out ruins. I spotted a handful of serf cottages and barracks that had been hastily abandoned. From what I’d been told, the serfs were nothing more than chattel, treated as little better than property. They had no rights; their marriages were little more than words, their children could be taken away at any moment, they were forbidden to own anything, even the clothes on their backs. I didn’t blame them in the slightest for rebelling against their lords and masters, their owners. My ancestors had done the same.

  I shuddered as the battleground came into view. Bodies lay everywhere, scattered over ruined fields or destroyed shacks. The majority were clearly serfs – the men wore drab shirts and trousers, the women wore dresses that looked like shapeless sacks – but there and there a more aristocratic body lay on the ground. They’d been stripped of everything they’d carried, save for

  their clothes. I puzzled over that for a moment, then shrugged. The serfs might be able to make their way to another plantation and slip into the crowd, but if they were caught wearing fancy clothes they’d be broken on the wheel. Or simply shot out of hand.

  Harbin called a halt as we reached the remains of a large farmhouse. I allowed myself a sigh of relief – my body was aching in places I hadn’t known existed –

  and slipped to the ground, holding out a hand to help Fallon as she clambered down too. She had even less experience on horseback than me. I made a mental note to ensure that changed, then asked her to contact the rebels and ask for an update. If there was no answer, we might be too late. We’d have to retreat in a hurry if the rebels had already been defeated. I was all too aware we were out on a limb. Without the big guns, the warlord’s troops could overwhelm us with ease.