He held a friendly expression on his face, but his eyes were hard. The other two men were paying attention now, too. There was a wariness to all of them. She noticed the Captain kept his hand near his holstered weapon.
“My name is not Saven,” she said, “Not anymore. Not for a very long time.”
The captain’s lips formed a smile. His eyes showed no amusement, though. “Well then, what should we call you?”
Her hands moved to the hood that covered her head. She pushed it back, revealing her blood red hair.
“I am the Red Witch,” she said.
Forty-Nine
Vazsa
Vazsa directed the Armor into the trees. Beside her, Lou tapped away at a keyboard, grumbling. She didn’t want to admit she had missed the musky scent of him in the cockpit.
“Look at this, you almost burned out Betsy’s number four extensor,” he said, pointing to an image on the screen. “You think those things grow on trees? We don’t have parts to replace some of these things you know.”
No, she didn’t. She didn’t know what he was talking about. She understood the Armor was some sort of mechanical device like the clock she had once seen at Lord Fortune’s castle. Lou insisted the Armor wasn’t magic. It's technology, girl. It's not alive, it's not hocus-pocus. It's a collection of parts that work together to do something.
Which was the same as magic, as far as she was concerned.
The Armor lurched as Vazsa directed it over a large rock.
“Take it easy, girl,” Lou said, “I want to get Besty back in one piece. She’s the only Armor Unit we have.”
Lou was still mad. Which, she supposed, he had a right to be. She wondered why she had let him talk her into going back to the ship. Maybe because her fury had been spent for the moment. Maybe because she didn’t know where to go next. Hurdroth and Fortune and Dovd could be anywhere. And, as Lou pointed out, everyone could hear her coming in the armor and run away faster than she could catch them.
It wasn’t fair.
The sun peeked over the horizon and the Armor switched over to day vision. Vazsa scanned the screens. They weren’t that far from the road. About two miles away she could see a large meadow. There was something there. She flipped on the far scan and zoomed in.
Soldiers. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. What were they doing there? She zoomed in further. Fluttering from a staff was the flag of Hurdroth.
Hurdroth’s army had returned.
Vazsa pivoted the Armor. Lou was slammed against the wall.
“What the hell, Vazsa?” he said.
She wasn’t listening. She set the headset over her eyes and felt the full power of the Armor flow through her.
Thirty feet of metal and rage marched toward Hurdroth’s army.
Fifty
Joshua
Joshua woke with an explosion ringing in his ears. He sat up, disorientated for a moment. The room was cold. His mouth tasted like it was growing fur.
A shaft of weak sunlight came through a cracked wall. Woodsmoke from the smoldering fireplace wafted around him. Against the other wall, Lord Fortune was leaning against Dovd. Still tied up as Joshua had left them. Fortune snored softly. Dovd was awake, eyes wide.
“What was that?” Joshua asked.
“It sounds like that damned metal giant,” Dovd said.
Another explosion made the ground vibrate. Dust sifted down from the broken ceiling. Fortune snorted and lifted his head. He blinked at Joshua as if he was wondering was he was here. His face fell as he seemed to remember the predicament he was in. He straightened up, putting on a smile.
“Good morning, good sir,” Fortune said, “Are we rea–”
An explosion, closer than the others, rocked the stone walls of their shelter. Rocks tumbled from the broken end of the house. Dust filled the air. Joshua caught the unmistakable scent of explosives. He stood up, grabbing the rope around their necks.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said.
The two men struggled to their feet. Joshua pulled them out the door. The air was crisp, and the sky clear and achingly blue. A fresh blanket of snow covered everything, making the land look clean and soft.
Voices, shouting and screaming, drew his attention. “Oh crap,” he said.
A solid wall of men ran toward them. Hard looking men in armor with long beards and thick swords in their hands. Towering behind the men was the rust stained metal giant from last night at Fortune’s castle. Metal creaked and groaned as it stepped forward. Bolts of blue lighting flew from its fingers.
It looked even more terrifying in daylight.
“It’s Hurdroth’s men!” Fortune shouted.
“It’s Hurdroth himself!” Dovd said
Running at the front of the pack was a large, broad-shouldered man with a long, black beard. Unmistakably King Hurdroth. Though the terror on his face made him look less than kingly at the moment.
At least until he saw Joshua. Then his face changed to rage.
“It’s the red-haired man!” he screamed, “Get him!”
Joshua realized this would be a good time to start running. He dropped the ropes holding Fortune and Dovd and put his feet into overdrive, sprinting to the road.
The snow was halfway up to his knees, slowing him down. Apparently, there weren't any snowplows out. He wished Grams had stuck around long enough to invest in some infrastructure for the place. Peace treaties were nice and all. But so were plowed roads.
The only good part about the snow was that it slowed Hurdroth and his men down, too. A glance back showed they weren’t gaining on him. Great, now as long as he could keep up this pace indefinitely, he wouldn’t get overrun by hundreds of blood-thirsty soldiers.
“DOVD!” A thunderous voice boomed out, “YOU MURDERING TRAITOR!”
Someone was running beside him, then pulling ahead. Dovd, hands still tied behind his back.
A bolt of blue lighting sizzled overhead. It hit a cedar tree, exploding it into splinters. The air smelled of ozone and fresh cedar.
Dovd ran like a gazelle. It would have been beautiful to watch if there weren’t angry barbarians and a giant robot behind him.
“DIE!” the robot thundered.
There was something familiar about the voice. Joshua risked another glance back. The angry horde was still there. Followed by the giant robot. There was something else now, too. A thin man with white hair riding a horse. Fortune.
Joshua stumbled, falling face first into the snow. He scrambled back to his feet, cursing the ground he’d lost. Dovd was far ahead of him now. Damn the man could move.
The ground was shaking. He looked back, then turned his head forward and made his legs pump faster.
The giant robot was running. Smoke poured from its torso and joints. Men scattered before it, terror in their eyes.
The cold air burned in Joshua's lungs. Behind him, turbines roared. Metal groaned and shrieked. There was no way he was going to outrun it.
A shadow loomed above. He looked up. Giant, rust-stained metal legs flew over him. A huge foot landed in front of him, kicking up a wave of snow. It knocked him down. He tumbled, rolling into a drift of snow, acrid smoke stinging his nostrils.
He batted the snow from his face. The smoking giant caught up to Dovd. It reached down, snatching him up in its huge metal hand.
Dovd screamed. A high-pitched, piercing cry as the machine lifted him high off the ground.
There was a terrible screech of metal. Something flashed and banged at the giant’s back. The giant groaned and creaked to a stop. Black smoke trailed from its joints.
Seconds later a hatch banged open on the back of its head. A familiar face popped out. Vazsa.
Joshua didn’t have time to wonder how she got there. He rolled over as hooves thundered up beside him. A familiar snout with a white ring around its left eye bent down to him.
Lord Fortune looked down at him, a triumphant smile on his face.
“My dear boy, I believe the tables have turned at
last,” Fortune said.
The sound of running feet filled his ears. Suddenly he was surrounded by dozens of angry, bearded warriors. They smelled like a roomful of wet dogs. Swords, daggers, and axes glittered in their hands. He lay his head back in the snow, breathing hard, a metallic taste in his mouth.
This really wasn’t going well.
Damnit the horse let out a long fart, and nickered like it was laughing at him.
“You suck,” Joshua told the horse.
Dirty, scarred hands reached down as the snarling warriors closed in on him.
Fifty-One
The Red Witch
The Red Witch stood in the center of the room, observing the reactions of everyone as she pushed down her hood and revealed her red hair. Her sister Levay gasped and dropped the bowl she carried. It dropped to the floor with a crash. Levay had never been out to the meadow, so she hadn’t seen The Red Witch’s hair.
The three men stared at her. They were clean now, but they still had a musky male scent to them. It disturbed The Red Witch’s body. It yearned for touch. The Red Witch pushed the desire down into its box and locked it. There was no place for it here.
The Captain moved from his place in front of the roaring fireplace. He stood and took a step toward her.
“You’re a witch? Did I hear that correctly?” he asked.
“I am The Red Witch,” she said, “I knew you would come to this place. Our father built this house for you and showed me how to find it.”
The Captain glanced at his companions. “How did you know we’d be here?”
The Red Witch pulled father's book from her cloak and held it up. "Our father knew. He entrusted me to meet you here so that we could help each other."
The Captain stared at the book. His face held no expression.
“Who is your father?” he asked, “Can we talk with him?”
“Our father is long dead,” The Red Witch said.
The Captain shifted from one foot to the other. The only sign of nervousness he betrayed. He kept his hand near the holstered weapon.
“Getting a little creepy here, Captain,” Dr. Ramirez said, “Maybe we should be moving along.”
The Captain didn’t reply. He stared at The Red Witch with steady eyes. She knew he was a man unused to indecision. He was The Captain. His crew depended on him to make quick decisions. She held her breath for a beat, then gave him the push he needed.
“I can show you how to get home,” she said, “To your world.”
His eyes narrowed. Behind him, the other two men got to their feet. "You can do that?" he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“And what do you want in return?”
The Red Witch suppressed a smile. It didn’t matter what she asked of them now. They would do anything to return to their home.
“I need you to pilot a starship,” she said, “I need you to put something in the sky.”
For the first time, the Captain looked puzzled. "A starship? You seriously have a starship around here?"
Professor Hennessy stepped up to him. “Captain, it doesn’t matter if they have a starship. We need to find one of those portals. It created the anomaly in the first place. If we had one to study, I’m sure it could be programmed to send us back home.”
“The portal you seek exists,” The Red Witch said.
Their attention turned to her. The Captain grabbed her arm.
“Where? Where is it?” he asked.
The Red Witch activated the magic embedded in the robe. With a red flash, the Captain flew back across the room, hitting the other two men. They tumbled to the floor, eyes wide. Levay gave a muffled scream, hand clapped to her mouth. She rushed to the side of Dr. Ramirez. Javanae sat in her chair, hands idling working at the sewing in her lap.
“Touching me is not permitted,” The Red Witch said.
It was something of an idle threat since the magic in the robe would not have enough power for more than two activations. Hopefully, just the threat would be enough to make the men behave.
The Captain shook his head and got to his feet. His body trembled. An after effect of the shock. He rubbed the back of his neck. His hand went to the weapon on his hip. He stared at The Red Witch. He seemed to be contemplating his options.
This was the most difficult part. There were few real threats The Red Witch could make against them. She counted on the men's innate sense of honor, and their desire to return to their homeworld. The Captain was the only warrior of the three. The other two were scholars and would not fight if they could help it. It was him she kept her eyes on. He was the one who would decide.
The Captain exhaled. A long, slow breath. Then he took his hand away from his weapon.
“Okay, lady,” he said, “How about you tell us what you’re expecting us to do?”
The Red Witch permitted herself a small smile. We’re getting closer, father.
Fifty-Two
Joshua
Joshua contemplated his surroundings. Rough cut stone walls. Check. Cold stone floor covered with rotting, filthy straw. Check. Rats scurrying around in the corners. Check. Iron bars on the tiny window. Check. Heavy wooden door, bound with iron straps. Check. Little door near the top of the door so the jailer could look in on them. Check. Stench of human waste and despair. Check and check.
He turned to his companions, chained to the wall by their necks as he was.
“So, long time no see,” he said to Vazsa, “How you been?”
Vazsa gave him a withering look and turned away. Joshua shrugged, rattling the chain around his neck. He smiled at the man chained up next to Vasa. He was a muscled, hard looking sort. He also had a nasty looking scar running down the side of face. The light was dim, but Joshua could tell he was wearing some kind of uniform. He squinted, reading the patch on the man’s shoulder. U.S.S.C. Seattle. It had some kind of spacey looking insignia. But below that was a United States flag. Seeing it almost brought tears to his eyes.
“I’m from Portland, Oregon,” Joshua said, “Where are you from?”
The man’s head snapped up. “You’re from Oregon?”
Joshua nodded. He held out his hand. “I’m Joshua Brennan.”
The man reached out and shook Joshua’s hand. “Lou Phelps. I’m from south Florida.”
“Nice to meet you, Lou,” Joshua said, “So how did you happen to end up on this delightful world?”
Lou contemplated him for a few moments. Wondering if he could trust him, maybe? Lou sighed.
"We were on our way home after a three-year mission to Titan," he said, "Ship had just entered orbit and we were thirty minutes from dock when something hit us."
Joshua listened eagerly. It seemed to confirm some of his theories. Lou and his ship were from the future. Or a future. “What happened?” he asked.
Lou shook his head. “The eggheads kept calling it an anomaly,” he said, “Looked to me like some giant friggin’ hole in space. Like a red whirlpool. Captain tried to buck us out of it, but the thing opened practically on our nose. Next thing we know we’re in atmosphere, coming down hard.
“Ship really wasn’t designed for atmospheric flight. She could do it, but only for an emergency ditch. Lucky for us the Captain’s a damned fine pilot. He brought her down in one piece.”
Lou trailed off, staring at his feet.
“What did you do then?” Joshua asked.
Lou shrugged. “Tried to survive, mostly. Three years out and most of our stores were depleted. We got out, did some recon, found some natives. Kind of freaked them out. Kind of freaked us out, too. We camouflaged the Seattle best we could. Came to an understanding with some of the natives so we could survive.
“Eventually Captain and our two eggheads wanted to do some more recon. They took out our excursion craft out to do some planetary mapping. See if there was anything more civilized on this rock.”
Lou paused. He kicked at a rat that was sniffing his foot. Joshua noticed Vazsa was looking at him now, too. Apparently at least some
of this was new to her. What had she been doing in the giant robot?
Lou took a breath and continued. “Something happened, not sure what, but the excursion craft crashed. Captain and the eggheads survived, but now they’re having to hoof it back to the ship. Haven’t had contact with them for a long time, though.”
“How long have you been on this world?” Joshua asked.
Lou scratched at his neck. “I reckon around ten years. Maybe longer. I try not to think about it. Pete does. He could tell you down to the day.”
Joshua assumed for the moment that Pete was another member of the crew. He considered his next question. He wondered how much Lou knew about the portals. Or if he knew about them at all.
“What year is it where you come from?” Joshua asked.
Lou gave him a hard look. “2153,” he said, “How about you?”
Joshua smiled. “2011.”
Lou’s eyes widened a little. He stared at Joshua for several moments, then looked away, nodding. “Fits,” he said, “You know what year it is here?”
"No," Joshua said, "I don't even know where here is."
Lou grinned. “I don’t know when, either, but I do know where. You’re on planet Earth.”
Fifty-Three
Lord Fortune
King Hurdroth was still not happy. Lord Fortune suspected the King would not be happy until all his enemies were dead and rotting on the field of battle.
Fortune kneeled before the King, his knees and back popping as he did so. The room wasn’t nearly as nice as the throne room at his beloved Bramblevine. But since Bramblevine was now a pile of smoldering rubble...the King had moved on to the next Lord’s castle.
Which would be Lord Kanreb. Kanreb was a younger, more vigorous Lord. He had objected strenuously to the idea of King Hurdroth appropriating his castle. The young Lord’s head was now on a pike, leaning up in the corner behind the King’s chair. Lord Kanreb didn’t have a proper throne. Another thing putting his majesty in a foul mood.
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