Chapter 19
image [https://i.imgur.com/fZuyxLd.jpeg]
Trading City of Vicenzo
1400
“Brave little man, hm?” she’d asked him with a hint of patience that only a mother could muster as they both sat on the porch.
He’d pouted and glared away as he forced back tears at the sting of the antiseptic and she did not reply as she cleaned away the blood and dirt. She pursed her lips as she eyed his bloodied knee. The scrape wasn’t bad, really. Not compared to other things. But he recognized the worry in her eyes.
“Mom! I want to go back and play!” he wailed, partly to distract her and partly to distract himself.
“With this knee?”
“Uh huh!”
“You’re going to get up and run now with the Jones’ boys?” she asked.
“I will be careful!” he retorted.
As if he’d struck a nerve, she winced. suddenly, her hand landed atop his head, her stern expression pouring into him as she said “Oh? Will you?”
In a shaky moment of weakness, she suddenly yelled “But sometimes being careful ain’t enough, Dennis!”
She’d grabbed him suddenly.
“Don’t you understand that?!”
“Ma?!”
Her hair now a mess, just as quickly as she’d flared, she released her death grip on his shoulders and sulked on the ground in front of him. Not quite sobbing, not quite composed. She remained still, almost as if deep in thought, but he could see her eyes.
She did not apologize, nor did he want to hear an apology from her.
“Don’t get hurt now, you hear? I worry.” she finally said, rubbing at her eyes.
He’d hugged her. With uncertainty, he’d thrown his arms around her then and held on without another word. Why? Perhaps the knowledge that his father had made similar promises was echoing through his subconscious a lot more than he’d known at the time. Perhaps his childish mind only had one reaction to seeing his mother appear so sad. Had it mattered at all?
Had that been enough in the end?
At the ghost of a past touch of his mother’s hand passing through his hair, Dennis felt his eyes shoot open and the memory was instantly replaced with the current present as he stared at the tent’s olive green ceiling.
He inhaled, reminded himself they were both gone and to just. Get. Over it! His family’s losses didn’t eliminate the duty that had to be done. So what if he was alone? All the better if no one was waiting, right?
With a barely suppressed huff, he collected his gear, slung his M16, and made sure his helmet’s straps were on tight. He moved to the tent’s entrance and pushed it aside without a word. At the very first step over the grassy fields that made the palace gardens, a voice in the back of his head snidely reminded him of one simple fact:
You left her all alone.
He felt himself internally reply with cold professionalism
Can’t do anything about it now…
The tiny voice in the back of his mind became meaningless as he walked on without a word. He heard other guys talking. Some English and some the abomination of Ecclesiastical Latin he knew too well. His captain was still up, talking with another officer, so he kept his distance.
The thought stayed where it had been. Nibbling at the edges of his mind as if reminding him that it was still there and would never truly leave.
“Orville!”
He turned to the voice.
“Captain?”
“You got a visitor.” He spoke matter of factly. Almost relaxed.
He winced at the woman with a water jug standing behind his captain. Immediately, his mind went to the strange but not impossible idea that his captain was suddenly testing him. He pretended to be well-rested and that nothing was wrong as he approached with a half-confident smile.
“Is something wrong, sir?”
“Local healer. She was asking about the kid who her husband hit earlier. Wanted to check on you.”
“Ah, well, my helmet did its job alright, cap’n.”
“Uh huh, then, uh, you wouldn’t mind speaking with her a bit. Maybe ease her concerns?”
Yes.
“Not a problem, sir.” He said instead, then, tipping his helmet like a hat and switching to the local tongue he spoke to her with the restrained charm of any American youth, “Hello, madame. How may I help you?”
The woman eyed him up once, then, without a word, pointed to a segment of the palace wall that protruded just right so that those who wished could have a sit by the fields.
“Sit.” She ordered.
“Yes, madame.”
Dennis could feel his captain’s eyes on him as he walked over, pretending all was fine. He held onto his M16 as he sat down in a matter he felt came off as relaxed. Maybe it didn’t. Still, he maintained his now very forced half-smile as the woman pointed to his helmet.
“Off.”
“Uh, no. I cannot do that. It is a rule we have.”
“Are you some kind of monster that will die if you lose your helmet?” she asked.
“Do soldiers take off their helmets during combat around here?”
“At the moment, this is not combat soldier… Dennis, was it?”
Horrible pronunciation aside, Dennis only huffed, noting from the corner of his eye that his captain was, indeed, eyeing him from afar. The woman seemed to rescind, then kneeled down nearby as she spoke again.
“At the very least lift your clothes a touch. That fall was quite something given all you boys carry around.”
“Oh, we are well protected so- hey!” he barked out the last part as the woman suddenly reached around his pant’s leg and began to lift it up.
She did not pause despite the odd looks around them or his objections. Dennis began to consider his options. Getting up and walking away was one, but…
She suddenly said, “You boys are oddly sensitive, are you?”
“We have rules, so please-”
“No, you do not have a rule about this. I asked that other boy who speaks our tongue. Hmm…” she frowned noting the scrape. Nothing serious. More a scratch, really. It had barely even bled. Still, she reached for her water jug.
At this Dennis simply had to put his foot down.
Smile now very much gone, he replied “I have a rule, so please-”
“What rule would that be?”
“I do not let strangers poke around my body, now we are done here.”
The woman frowned at him, yet there was something in her expression that looked more like bemusement. He had to wonder why she was doing this.
“You would rather that cut get infected? That will kill you. Seen it happen if it is not clean at the very least.”
“We know, we have our ways of cleaning-”
“But not healing. Just hold this sponge to your knee. It may sting a little, but the skin will return quickly.”
“Right… Local healer, right?” Dennis grumbled in English.
“Excuse me?”
“You. You are a healer.”
“Oh, just call me Priscilla. I am at your service.”
“Priscilla…” he forced himself to say, “That is quite excellent, but please focus on men who need it more.”
“Nothing to do there anymore. This battle has not truly turned into the siege nor the pitched combat I would have expected. There are attacks, then a lull. Now please, young man, just hold this sponge to-”
“I thank you for your services, Priscilla, but I am afraid they are not necessary at the moment. Thank you. Good day.”
The woman huffed as he stood up, the smile again on his face as he tried to push the nausea back.
“Thank you for worrying.” He said, and began to walk away.
“It will kill you, you know.”
He waved at her and walked off.
Kill me? Well, let’s just see about that.
Captain Rhodes had not taken his eyes off of him. Dennis felt a tinge of anger flare up, but like any good soldier, he forced it down.
“She healed you up?”
“No offense, captain, but do we trust that magic? I’d rather some good old-fashioned antiseptic and time. I don’t particularly trust these locals not to poison us, y’know?”
His captain eyed him for a half second, which again made Dennis feel nauseous. Who gave a damn about his emotional state? Poking at it wouldn’t make him more effective. He had his job, he had his mission, and this was not the time for psychological evaluations. Not unless he became incapable of doing his job, at least.
And the last thing he wanted was to get booted from the mission when he was most needed.
“Well, alright.” Rhodes muttered as if settling on dropping the issue, finally.
“After the recent attacks, it seems they may try to push on the eastern wall in some form. The Berets keep spotting men on horseback riding along from behind hills, and if there’s a push there we may need to coordinate our guys and theirs, so-”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
In the middle of that statement, the quad-mounted M2 Brownings on the rooftop behind them suddenly roared to life. It sounded like a train chugging along at its steady rate of fire of two thousand three hundred rounds a minute flew out into the distance, coloring the sky with bright, cherry red tracers similar to the burning ash flying into the air from a fire. Only deadlier. Thirty-eight fifty-caliber rounds every second. It was a modified M45C, the solution the army had come up with during the closing stages of the Second World War. It had served effectively against the slower aircraft of the 1940s but had become useless in the jet age.
Dennis squinted as he followed the direction of the tracers that glowed in the afternoon sky.
Against the Wyverns…
There were four again, mere gray dots against the lighter gray of the mountains. Far away, but perhaps just within range of the quad-mounted machine guns.
Rhodes yelled over the gunfire then.
“Coordination. Eastern wall, probably. Come on! There’s a surprise coming for them as well!”
Surprise?
***
Cassius felt a surge of panic as the lightning-fast fireflies zipped around his wyvern. He could just see where they were coming from, but it was so far away there was nothing he could do.
He signaled to his other riders, and immediately they all dove away in different directions. He heard a scream and prayed to the gods it wasn’t one of his men but rather the man they carried with them. The grassy ground beneath them rapidly approached, and he leveled his wyvern out. He hated how low he now had to fly as he could still see a few of the weaponry shot at them flying high above, despite them being away from their range.
He glanced behind him, then sighed in relief. The scream was not from his men, but from the one they brought with them.
General Octavius awaited them from behind the hills. His men were still cleaning up the damage done to their camp.
“Cassius! Excellent! You made it! I… is that all?”
The young mage shook himself off from the wyven. The creature huffed at him as if he’d done something to offend him.
Cassius said “All they could spare, but Augustine swears he shall be an excellent help. Especially now that they have their cursed weaponry in place again.”
“That was what that was?”
“Yes, the weaponry they used when they first came through. Not the smoking lances we encountered prior, but…”
He motioned to a wyvern that was licking its wounds. The creature’s wings bled from the grazing shots. Unlike arrows, these projectiles penetrated and tore away at flesh, muscle, and bone alike. The rider appeared frustrated as it began to go over the creature.
Octavius said “We may have to adapt once more. You! Mage!”
The young man walked over, half smiling as he was about to respond.
“Greetings, general, I-”
Octavius cut him off, saying “Not important. I have some ideas about the new fire weaponry Augustine has come up with. Can… we…?”
All eyes turned towards the new sound.
It was not like the strange whipping of the odd American flying machines that moved men towards the city and could hover in the air, nor was it like the roar of the weaponry these men wielded. It was not the ghostly whistling of their incoming artillery, it was not at all like the battle cry of their strange carriages, nor was it the frightful screeching of the lances that shot out towards any fliers that got too close.
This was like a whine. Almost a low hum that was only growing louder.
Octavius growled in anger, “Get your wyverns out of here! Everyone!!! Scatter!!! Scatter!!!”
“Are those the metal birds?” the mage asked.
“Do you want to find out?! To the trees! Run!”
***
Heidi held her rabbit ears in pain as the Americans hooted and began to reload their weapon.
One said something she took to mean an apology, not that she understood the exact wording, but she managed to straighten it out in her mind, the ringing pain now slowly subsiding. The local guards, however, stared wide-eyed at the weapon. The boxes used to store its projectiles, the sleekness of it…
They were jealous.
One mumbled, “Had we had one of these in our past campaigns…”
She held in her disgust, though she could imagine the benefits of such weaponry if only they had them back during her war. As she began to help pick up the… what did they call them? Casings? There was a pile of them on the top where the weapon had been set up, and they’d begun to quickly pick them up as they also started to prepare the weapon again.
Then there was that new sound.
Distant, she could hear it long before anyone else once her ringing returned. She had just helped gather up the last of the casings she could see when someone bothered to ask.
“What the blazes is that?”
She turned to see Hypatia, closely followed by Lucretius who blinked in confusion.
“The weapon?” he asked.
Heidi said, “No, governor, I believe Hypatia means this strange humming we hear in the distance.”
Hypatia nodded, adding “It is not the flying machines we saw previously.”
Lucretius nodded and walked over to the men, who only nodded to him once.
“Fine work. You were able to scare off the Wyverns Octavius sent.” he muttered as he looked beneath them at the grounds.
There was an American interpreter, down by the grounds, and they spotted him.
“Interpreter!” Lucretius called.
The young soldier was with his officer, but he turned at his calling.
“Can you congratulate the men up here? They did a fine job just now.”
“The job is not done, governor. Wait until the Raiders of the Sky arrive.”
Huh?
Heidi turned in the direction of the sound. It was coming from the Alpine Mountains no doubt, but the description… “Sky Raider”. She stared expectantly as other guards stared ahead, the sound growing ever louder as they waited.
“Governor Lucretius?”
Parthea Traianus arrived at the roof next.
Just in time.
“What is that?” she asked startled as the sound had grown audible and the monsters were very visible now.
Lucretius muttered, “They called them raiders of the sky… it… oh my…”
That was all they said as four of the monsters dove in low. The Americans around them grinned and began to holler as their blue flying machines screamed faster than the wyverns. Suddenly, two of them seemed to drop something. From where she stood it appeared like a speck, a piece of metal from their body, fell off. As though something broke. But somehow she knew it could not be the case.
Her answer came in that smoke suddenly seemed to engulf the area the piece fell into, as though it someone had tossed a pebble into a cauldron of burning coals. Each of the pieces that fell caused an equal amount of smoke to erupt from the ground where they landed.
And then, after a few seconds, they all heard the loud, thunderous bellow of the result.
They all knew lightning flashed and it would take some time depending on how far one was for the sound to reach them.
Now they were seeing it first hand.
The Sky Raiders doubled around and dropped more of their weapons.
More smoke filled the area they knew Octavius was camped out on. The Americans around them began to holler and whoop.
“By… by the gods…” Parthea shuddered.
Hypatia, blind though she was, had to have an idea of what was transpiring as the sounds of the distant explosions reached them. She could tell as she covered her mouth in surprise. Their men stood silently by.
“Suddenly, I fear convincing your father may be far more vital than we anticipated.” Lucretius whispered.
Heidi only grinned as she imagined such force being used against those who’d destroyed her people. But she reigned her excitement in. It was not a done deal yet, after all. Returning to a calmer expression she said “Governor, shall we bring the men some more drinks?”
Parthea quickly said “Not yet! We do not know if Octavius was killed in that attack. Let us not underestimate our own generals just because our current new friends are showing… inhuman killing ability.”
Lucretius nodded, and said “Just give them water if they so ask. Same for our advisors downstairs. We may survive the night yet.”
Imperial Capital
Had it really been so obvious?
The thought had stuck with her as her horse rode through the grassy plains, her guards flanking her as she tried to appear as dignified as they were. Riding a horse, however, felt awkward given her clothing. Still, she forced herself to remain composed as they followed the young woman ahead.
The rider ahead stopped, then pointed at the hills ahead.
“General Eos has made camp there, Queen Thule. She has had to move six times already and is already preparing to move again.”
“Thank you, Hera.”
The warrior nodded, then rode off again.
She entered the “general’s” camp then.
Warriors were indeed packing up their tents even now. The women carried the lighter weapons whilst the men, the few she could see, did the heavier lifting. She kept her gaze low as her guards kept a protective circle around her.
“Ah, Queen Thule! I was wondering when you’d find us!”
General Eos stood with her arms on her hips and a grim smile. She was a tall woman. Fit. Her brown rabbit ears complemented her short hair and could distract from the disquieting scar on her left eye. She wore no armor. Her combat skirt appeared disheveled, and Thule could have sworn at the time that she was eyeing her up for something.
“You come to join us in battle?”
Ah, of course…
“Unfortunately, I cannot.”
Eos retorted “I figured. A shame. Leaders should be at the front, not behind the safety of their men.”
Thule frowned at the accusation but kept herself composed as she spoke.
“A leader must be able to lead. Dying in the front will not help win this cursed war.”
Eos said “Sounds cowardly to me, but you are the queen. The very… small queen if I may. What are you, fifteen?”
Her guards stirred, as if about to object, so she waved them down.
“Right, why are you here, your majesty?”
Before her guards could even try to object, Thule quickly said “I wished to learn of the situation as it stands at the moment.”
“As it stands? Bad. I… oh, there they are.”
Thule followed her gaze.
Up above she saw, faintly, a pair of what might have been birds, perhaps eagles, but somehow she knew they were not. They were too high up, and looked too big to be birds.
“Wyvern riders keep finding my forward base, so it has become difficult to carry out attacks. But we got lucky. Caught a couple of centurions from an unlucky Iberian scouting party. Seems they strayed a touch too far from their commanders and my girls got them alive.”
Thule noted the pride in the woman’s words when speaking of her troops.
“Either way, they have served… some purpose.”
Thule shuddered at the woman’s eerie smile. She already knew of the rumors, but as the woman gleefully turned to a tent with that cursed grin ever present, somehow, a part of her already knew.
“Well, come now. Do you not wish to meet our enemies?”
Screams followed from within.
Her eyes shot open at the presence entering her cell.
“That was quite a show, majesty.”
“Seljuk… what do you want?”
The creature was silent. Just a pair of shifty eyes in the darkness now that the lone torch had gone out. Her rags covered her, but did not keep her warm, and for once she could feel his presence alone made the room all the colder.
Slowly she sat up, and cocked an eyebrow, not intimidated whatsoever. After all, what could he do that had not been done before?
“What do you dream about?”
She scoffed at him.
“I mean it.”
“I thought your kind could read minds.”
“Reading minds is not what you think it is. I can tell you are having a nightmare. I can perhaps even tell you what it made you feel. But I cannot be so certain of what you dreamt of.”
“Riveting. Is there a reason for this exposition of your capabilities, spy master Seljuk?” she spoke, a crooked smile forming on her lips as she realized there was just a tiny hint of fear in the creature’s voice.
“The city of Vicenzo hangs in the balance. I have not informed the emperor of how bad the situation truly is.”
“Oh? The mighty army of the empire has been bested?”
“No, not quite bested. The men holding the city are holding it, but they are struggling. The men in the mountains are pushing. Slowly. Cautiously. Effectively. But now their metal birds have wreaked havoc on the camps of General Arminius Octavius. Perhaps he will come up with some clever trick to take revenge but the situation is dire. Destroying Vicenzo will not slow them down much once they break out of those mountains.”
She rubbed at her sore arms, her crooked smile only widening as she spoke.
“So that brings you to me?”
“One of my men was captured before he could poison himself. He is alive and telling us as much as he can gather from where they are holding him, but they have blindfolded him and keep him away from the area. When coupled with the unfortunate reality that they have the slaves from the East… unless we find some weakness we can exploit, the outcome of this war has long been decided.”
Thule’s smile faded somewhat.
Seljuk clearly detected her waning enthusiasm as he spoke a little louder suddenly, fully appearing ahead of her.
“So! That brings us to you.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“His highness would not like that, and right now I am simply preparing contingencies.”
She said nothing.
“We already spoke of this, but now a clear path is present.”
She waited in silence.
“Swear to cooperate, and perhaps you can get the revenge you so desperately wish.”
Thule stared at him for a moment.
She could imagine the brick-and-mortar behind her fade. She could imagine being back in those cool fields, basking in the bright sunlight in her warm clothes. Her mother resting on her father’s shoulder. Her brother playing with other boys. All lost.
“What is your plan, exactly?” she asked.
“I have instructed one of my agents to make contact. We will offer these men a variety of things they may find interesting.”
“Ah, and I fit in that list of things they may find interesting?”
His lack of a reply told her everything.
The crooked smile widened slightly, but she did not question further. Instead, she went for another, far more tempting comment.
“Then I suppose you have now become dependent on my wellbeing. How appropriate.”
No reply.
“I shall not forget my place, Seljuk, worry not.”
“They may still kill you even if you help them.”
She paused briefly at that consideration. Another dagger stuck in her back. Another betrayal. But perhaps, as she eyed the dark brick wall she sat against, her crooked smile never wavering, she realized one thing.
“That would be most welcome.”