Harc’otti came pouring out of the tree line just outside Ember Creek. Some had already made it to the outskirts of town. These are the ones he focussed on.

With each shot, one of the barbarian warriors fell. And he wasn’t alone. The soft hiss of pneumatic rifles punctuated the din of combat from at least four separate rooftops.

There was a louder hiss, and one warrior's head was split open by an impact. That had to be Sheriff Blackwood and Sally.

Another crack of gunfire sounded out, and a warrior riding in on horseback went down. And that had to be Deputy Seline with his rifle. At least it wasn’t sitting around.

John took a moment to check on Travis, but the man was gone. No matter how crazy the man was, he was important to the town’s survival. He frantically searched around until he spotted the man trying to unhook the artillery wagon. John wasn’t the only one who had noticed the artificer all by himself. A screaming Harc’otti rushed forward and jumped on top of the crashed wagon, a vicious-looking hatchet in his hands. The man had a mad gleam in his eyes as he prepared to leap at the artificer.

He never got a chance to use the weapon as John put a bullet into his skull. If he didn’t think they needed the artillery piece, he would have been cussing out the artificer. But more and more Harc’otti were coming from the woods. The stampede of screaming men looked feral in their rough leather and animal hide clothing.

This was not some small little raid, this was a full-out attack. And John was not prepared.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t stand his ground though. He hurried over to Travis. “Can you manage while I cover you?”

Travis didn’t speak, but he did nod his head as he worked at uncoupling the weapon from his auto cart.

John killed two more screaming warriors while the man worked, and had to pull him out of the way on three occasions as arrows zipped in.

He was thankful these Harc’otti didn’t seem to have rifles.

As if his thought had tempted fate there was a hiss from the treeline and someone on the roof across the street screamed. He couldn’t see where the shot had originated from at his vantage point. Someone else would need to deal with it. “Seline!”

“I see them!” she shouted back. A crack of gunfire followed her response only a moment later, and no further fire came from the forest.

As the warriors raced for the town, John heard a sputtering hiss and glanced at Travis. The man had turned the rotary toward the oncoming hoard. Much like his auto cart, Travis threw a lever forward, and the thing began spewing steam as the barrels started to spin. The artificer watched a gauge and as soon as it hit a red line he depressed a button on the top of the handle.

Now, John was no stranger to artillery. Having spent time in the army, he had faced off against cannons more times than he could count. He hadn’t ever seen a rotary cannon in action though. They had only been introduced into service during the Expansion War. The very same war Blackwood had been a part of.

Unlike the pneuma rifles, the rotary cannon let out a shrill whistle as it spat lead down range, scything through the oncoming warriors like they were nothing. The man simply turned the thing slightly and it cut across the street, stopping the approaching horde dead in their tracks.

That was when the Harc’otti attack fell apart and the remaining warriors broke and raced for the forest. It was a good thing because John heard the rotary run out of ammo only a few seconds later. That didn’t stop Travis from moving it back and forth as he kept the trigger pressed in. It seemed the man either couldn’t hear the change in tone or hadn’t realized he was out.

John tapped him on the back, making the man start and finally let go of the trigger. Finally realizing he was out of ammo, he yanked the lever back and hopped away from the now-glowing gun.

With the lever pulled, the steam started shooting from the stack again instead of the barrels.

Another crack of his rifle was the last sound that punctuated the growing silence as the enemy retreated.

The Sheriff was the first to join them on the street, the man looked about wearily before walking over. “Never thought that old piece would come in handy.”

“It's junk now,” Travis stated. “The barrels overheated.”

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“They tend to do that,” Blackwood replied with a shrug. “But it did its job.”

Soon the rest of the deputized former workers joined them. One was being carried with an arrow sticking out of his gut.

John held back a wince at the sight. Gut shots were never good.

“Tobias?” The Sheriff asked.

Another man shook his head. “Taken out by the sharpshooter.”

Last to join them was Seline. The girl looked shaken and unsure of herself, but she had acquitted herself well during the fight. He was glad she hadn’t locked up. Some people did when faced with taking a life. It was never easy taking that first shot. But she had done it and looked to have come out the other side without snapping. Not everyone that took that shot could say that either. The other deputized men seemed fine, but they were already baptized by their experience at the hands of Jacob and his group.

John looked over the battlefield. Despite the volume of fire from the rotary gun, there weren’t as many bodies as he expected. It looked like only a third of the enemy force had gone down to the chaotic hail of fire. Another dozen were killed by him and the other defenders.

He was about to suggest clearing up the bodies when a distant explosion echoed across the town.

The entire group spun toward the noise, and Travis screamed. “My shop!”

Before anyone could stop the old artificer, he started running in that direction.

“Uncle! Wait!” Seline raced after the surprisingly spry older man.

“It's one thing after another,” Blackwood spat. “Could you keep an eye on those two? I’ll clean up here.”

John nodded before jogging to catch up with the rapidly retreating forms of the artificer and his niece.

When the three of them finally arrived at his shop, it was surrounded by onlookers.

“Quit your gaping and get out of my way!” Travis pushed through the crowd.

The people gave way, but only after spotting him and Seline. Once they broke through, John could see the tall wooden fence that surrounded the front of the property had been blown over. And a large crater was all that remained of where the armored suits used to lay.

Travis let out a choked scream as he rushed over to the holes. “Who would do something like this?”

Seline turned to the crowd. “Did anyone see someone leaving?”

The group shook their heads.

Seline sighed. “You should all return to your homes. There might still be Harc’otti lurking about.” That got the crowd's attention and worried muttering started making its way through the group before most of them quickly dispersed.

The only person that stuck around was a blond-haired woman that John thought he had seen before.

“Is there something I can help you with, Francine?” Seline asked.

The woman looked unsure. “I didn’t see any person, but I saw a shadow of someone hurrying away when I looked out my window after I heard the noise.”

“Can you tell me where?” John asked.

The young woman nodded, pointing toward an alley not too far away.

“Thanks for the information, Francine. But perhaps it would be best if you waited at the Silken Riches with the other working girls.”

Ah… That’s where he had seen her before.

The woman nodded before hurrying off.

“Can you keep an eye on your uncle?”

Seline nodded, looking over at the distraught man as he rummaged for anything that may have survived the blast. “Don’t let them get away with this, John.”

He nodded. “I don’t plan to.” With that, he turned and sprinted down the street, following the directions Francine had given him.

The tight nature of the alley worked to his advantage. Without exposure to the sun, the area hadn’t dried from the previous rain. A clear set of tracks led through the muddy dirt and he followed it. The path led straight out of town. Whoever it was, they clearly were more concerned with speed rather than hiding their trail.

John pushed his body, allowing him to run faster than a horse for a short time. Just as the trail started to vanish into the trees, something white caught his attention.

His gaze snapped to follow the form as it passed behind the tree cover. It didn’t take long for him to realize it was a horse. And whoever was on it was trying to push the poor animal for all it was worth.

John rushed to cut off the rider.

They must have seen or heard him coming because a bullet whizzed past nearby. John weaved through the trees like a wraith, his time as an Irregular quickly coming back to him as he slowly closed the distance.

This was a suicidal plan if you faced a stationary enemy, but John had plenty of experience using this type of tactic against mounted troops. They either tried to move faster, or they panicked.

The rider did the former as they urged their horse into a dead sprint. That was a mistake. The animal stumbled on an exposed root, causing it to twist a leg. It let out a pained whinny and tipped forward. Its rider screamed as they were thrown from the back of the animal and into a nearby tree with a loud thud.

John arrived just as the rider was regaining his feet. Before they could wonder where their weapon had disappeared, John shot them in the leg.

The man went down with another scream. Even if this hadn’t been the person who blew up Travis’s yard, he had taken a shot at John.

The Harc’otti warrior glared up at him before letting out a defiant scream and attempting to lunge at him with a wicked-looking knife he had pulled from his belt. The pathetic attempt to leap at him didn’t even make John take a step back. The young man simply toppled over in the dirt, breathing hard and clutching at his injured leg.

John moved over and disarmed the man, before tying his hands up, wrapping the wound, and yanking him to his feet.

The boy, because that’s all John could see, couldn’t be any older than eighteen. Yet he hadn’t hesitated to attack John. His attacker tried to put on a determined expression, but John could see him wince from the wound.

He poked the boy with his pistol. “Walk, or I’ll put a bullet in your other leg and drag you back to town by your hair.” The young warrior tried to hide his shock and surprise at John’s statement, but he did a poor job of it. John poked him once again before aiming toward his good leg. The man turned and started hobbling back toward town.

It was time to get some more answers.