Chapter 6

Washington D.C, United States of America

9:15 PM

"The small group of demonstrators continued to demand an end to the war across the portal in Berkley this morning, many openly calling the president and his cabinet 'fascists' for their actions." The newsman on the television screen said in a calm tone.

The screen flickered and footage of the demonstrators sitting near the entrance of the college, all in small groups with several "Democracy, not Imperialism" signs lifted above them.

The picture then went to a group of four demonstrators, three men and one woman, a microphone on the further left corner of the screen being the only sign of the journalist asking the questions of the excited college students.

"We believe that the war needs to come to an end. We are not an empire that conquers all, and if the president thinks he can just get away with this while so many people here continue to struggle just to get by… well, he should know that the American people will remember this once November hits." A young man, clean-shaven and well-groomed, spoke in a stern tone before the microphone he was speaking into moved on to another person.

"Make peace, not war!" the other young man said, grinning from ear to ear before the American president shut off the Television and began to rub his eyes. The kids looked like any other college student,

"They're in the minority, John; they're loud because of that very reason."

“Yeah, but that just reminds me that we need to end this damned war. And quickly.”

There had already been a few demonstrations against American intervention in Vietnam, especially after the 1963 coup. A part of him wondered just how genuine the movements were and if some shadowy agents were giving these college students ideas, but he’d rather avoid stepping into McCarthyist thought despite his links to the former senator.

His Vice President said, “We’re not even a month into the campaign This will take time-”

“Yeah, time that unfortunately takes attention away from our other objectives here.”

The Vice president tried to keep his younger friend in check as the man had a very idealized vision for the changing nation.

Unfortunately…

"I'm trying to spin it so that both sides of our party can agree, I know the Republicans are probably going to side with us on this, but without a majority…"

The draft for the Civil Rights Act sat on the desk in silence.

"Press is heading over to the other side of the portal today, and I hear black tankers were very heroic during the opening battle for the two valleys we control."

"Yeah, but the same was said in World War One, Two, Korea, and there isn't a doubt in my mind we would be drowning in heroic negroes if war broke out in Vietnam! I'm sure most Americans don't really care about blacks if it doesn't affect them, so while I can expect some support on this…"

"You don’t think it’s enough to pass, do you?"

Neither of them wanted to say it, but what they needed, desperately, was a unifier to get the act through. And that simply wasn't an option just yet. While most Americans supported the war effort, the war for civil rights at home was still a slow, grinding, push. He mulled the issues of war at home and abroad over in his mind, which suddenly reminded him of something.

"Maybe another issue can help us out. The demi-humans. Once we incorporate Iberian lands into the Union, they'll have free right to travel from their world to our own, citizens, eventually… how many kinds of races were there over there? Please stick to human races."

An aide slowly sifted through some papers, taking a deep breath before reading "Half-human half-wolf, half-human half-cat, half-human half-dog, half-human half rabbit, half-human half-snake, half-bird half-human-"

"Alright, alright. The point is, we're going to have a lot of… new races to thrust our superiority complex on, as well as more struggles to enact and enforce these new protections. But if we can play to the sympathy of Americans, maybe make some parallels to liberating the slaves during the Civil War, then..."

The Vice president said "We’re already liberating slaves. Those fox people we rescued…" The man paused to take in the silliness of the statement as an actual incident where enemy combatants had died and American soldiers had risked their lives to save people, "…Well… the Red Cross is caring for them, and they seem relatively kind. And there’s the wolf… people?"

The aide went over the notes and simply nodded his head to the affirmative.

“So yes, I do believe we can play to America’s sympathies.”

The President asked "Yeah, but how much of a guarantee is that? I just don’t know." he added with a sigh.

"Listen, it's not the same as twenty years ago or even ten… maybe I can make the case around this liberation of slaves with some of my buddies in Congress, though. Since slavery is still rampant in that world, then sympathy for these other races could give us a hand in pushing this act through. Get folks on our side even if they don’t fully agree. After all, who wouldn’t want to bet on the winning horse?"

“Yeah, but how much of a winning horse will it be?”

The room stared solemnly at the paper on the desk.

Iberian Mountain Range

General Octavius eyed the map absentmindedly as Augustine pointed out the roads that had been successfully blocked by his mages. Pretty soon they’d have set up such a blockade of the major roads in and out of the mountains that even if with some strange machinery or even magic of their own they managed to clear the blockades of massive rock and earth, they would only be faced with three and in a few places four more blockades to clear. Augustine had, for all intents and purposes, done some equivalent of moving mountains together.

Any other army in the world would have to concede defeat there and then.

But Octavius knew better.

He thought back to the metal birds he briefly saw that day and the iron carriages that drove without horses and ripped men to pieces. No, these men could not be underestimated. Still, a part of him quietly relished the fact that the enemy weaponry could not reach them and had not been able to reach them for three days by now. These were still men, at the end of the day.

Augustine finally said “And with these, we may be able to begin to set up greater traps and ambushes. Take advantage of the tighter areas to rain spears and arrows on them from above.”

“That presumes they will risk taking such routes. No, I think they will wait for their metal birds and bypass our traps entirely.”

“Perhaps Cassius and his fliers could meet them?”

“I believe so. We have mountains here, and they can use that to their advantage, lie in wait, and attack from below, but we need them for the burning of Vicenzo. Once that region is gone we can concentrate on making their lives here in the Alpines all the more difficult. I think these weapons they use against our fliers can be… countered… do you hear that?”

They both glanced up as something new could be heard in the skies above.

Outside, men, infantry and cavalry alike, stared wide-eyed at the shapes flying in the distance. They were dark dots in the early morning sky, but the sound. The continuous rumbling, the mechanical nature of it, the unnatural method by which they flew on the clouds.

It did not take much to realize the things in the distance were not wyverns.

Augustine swallowed as Octavius was quick to hiss “Oh no, no, no! They are heading to Vicenzo!”

Then his voice boomed as he called out “Cassius! Where are your riders?! Cassius!”

When the man did not immediately reply, Octavius grabbed a horse and hopped on it before charging off. Augustine was about to say something, but Octavius only shouted back a few words.

“Hold the line!”

Augustine only managed to reply an affirmative as the man charged off in search of a fast ride to Vicenzo.

April 12th, 1964

Skies over Iberia

7:20 AM

Dennis Orville observed the mountains in the distance and sighed longingly as the formation of Bell UH-1 Huey helicopters flew through the air. The clouds were light, cotton-like patches in the blue sky, a few splashed with the pink colors of the early morning as the sun rose above them. Below them, in the early morning light, the mountains were more of a dark splotch of jagged land that poked upwards, like some foreboding stretch of earth that warned travelers not to go there. Shadows cast by the peaks slowly retreated as the sun rose, and color began to return to the land little by little, removing the dreadful atmosphere ever so slightly. His thoughts slowly drifted back home, to the Appalachian trails he’d once visited with…

He pushed the thought away and glanced down.

"Get a shot of those, eh Tom?"

Tom had decided to bring a camera this time and now snapped photos of the ground below with a silent solemness. Dead bodies still littered the crater-filled mountain range. He could see exactly where the beehive rounds had hit, some called by them, others by different teams, but the effect was all the same. Shattered peaks, holes in the ground, torn apart bodies, and a desolate landscape rid of all life.

"So that's what ten thousand dead bodies look like? How are we going to clean it all up?" the voice of Tom sounded just over the rotors of the Huey.

"Estimated, and bulldozers probably. When they get there, at least." Alex answered just as loudly, "Whole area is probably going to reek to high heaven by the time our guys get there."

Dennis only nodded as the continued whop-whop-whop-whop-whop of the rotors above them made it difficult to chat.

“Holy- hey! Look!” someone balked and pointed out of the helicopter and to the lower peaks. Even now some smoke from the many dying campfires was visible, the tents less so, but the overall formation of the enemy army’s main camp, just behind some ridges, was visible to them now. Yet they continued flying, watching the Iberian Army camp in the distance not too far away from them no different than birds watching a migrating herd.

"Why the hell aren't they bombing ‘em?" he heard Tom ask no one in particular. He knew the answer.

Still, the reply that came over the chopper was "Out of range! Given they blocked the main roads, it’ll be a bit before Arty can get to them. Maybe a two."

Dennis observed the distant army, still stuck together despite their best efforts. As they flew further away from the higher peaks, however, he noticed something different. A large movement of men and horses, old carts drawn by horses were pushed ahead down trails, coalescing at the foot of a mountain. Men were packing up, others were already on the move. There were no tents left, no fires to put out. Away from that, some soldiers marched on in very organized formations, some seemingly on their own, but overall, there was a large military formation right under them, and heading for…

"Hey, Captain?" Dennis called.

Captain Rhodes turned and upon seeing him wave and point in the distance, inched over and focused on the view with a pair of binoculars.

"Yeah, I see them! Pilot!"

"Yeah, I got them, Captain. Eagle's Nest, this is Payload Two, be advised, we are seeing large parts of the enemy army splitting off and moving south, headed in our direction, over."

"Acknowledged." came the almost garbled reply through the radio.

The helicopters continued nevertheless, the defeated Army becoming a distant line of ants from their view.

The grassy road soon turned into the visibly plowed fields of farmland, wheat being recognizable even from the helicopters.

Hastings said, "Man, you think it's any different from the stuff back home?"

Dennis only shrugged.

He understood the excitement on the older man, though. This was the first real push into this new world. The earlier reconnaissance operations once the foothold had been established seemed to mainly serve in getting a bearing on their exact location, or confirm the previous statements by the captured soldiers and one wolf girl collaborator. Finding some friendly contact, opening talks, forcing some kind of diplomatic response… well, while not total failures, had left much to be desired.

But this was the real deal, the first real thrust into enemy territory.

Dennis wondered if they would be met by hostiles. He wondered if the previous week of on-and-off bombardments of men armed with little more than swords and spears would be a pattern that followed them all the way to the enemy’s capital city. What did they think of their guns, their artillery, their helicopters- just their technology in general? Did they not see how outclassed they were? Why did they insist on fighting even now? They’d started the damn war, hadn’t they?!

Suddenly, he thought back to a movie he hadn't seen but had heard a lot about.

"The War of the Worlds…" he muttered aloud.

Would we be the same if another, more powerful force invaded us?

He scoffed at the thought.

No. If the October Crisis was anything to go by, the United States, and likely any nation on God’s green earth, communist or not, would expend all diplomatic options before pulling the trigger on a technologically superior alien force. The men below had attacked them first and failed to meet for talks at every turn even now. Which begged the question:

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Why haven't they tried to talk?

"There she is, boys!"

All eyes turned their attention forward, and in the distance, they could see the walls described by several P-O-W's still in American custody.

The City of Vicenzo.

City of Vicenzo

Sulla was, indeed, a good soldier.

Even now his uniform, dirty as it was from the weeks of the ongoing war, was still in perfect order, his red cape and officer’s crest were almost stainless in spite of the muck that covered the rest of his body. He stood at rigid attention. His gaze was focused, his blade sheathed but at the ready.

Governor Lucretius Tullius felt ever so slightly tense in his presence. The air, heavier, the lack of birds or a breeze only added to the feeling that everything was holding its breath. He felt much better with Legate Marius and his guards standing by his side even if the man in front of him was supposed to be on his side as well.

Sulla, however, wasted no time with pleasantries.

“Governor Tullius, while I appreciate this meeting, I have noticed your failure to evacuate the city and commence its destruction.”

Lucretius shrank back into his chair ever so slightly. Of all the things in his palace, he’d made a point of keeping a simple wooden chair behind his desk. More humble for the farmers, and perhaps helped those above him feel more comfortable around him. Perhaps.

“Surely you see the difficulty of such a task. The majority of the city’s population is made up of demi-humans or poor farmers who have nowhere to go. Many more came here with the destruction of their farms by your men, sir. The rich may be willing to abandon their homes, but none has done so quite yet, either. In fact, I wish to propose we instead make a stand here.”

“Governor, with all due respect, that request was denied by the Emperor himself, and for good reason. This enemy… they do not fight wars the way we do. They can reduce this city to ash if they so wish and take the land for themselves.”

“So we should just cut and flee? You have already made the land unusable, no? And if the enemy wishes to take the land they will have to occupy it eventually. We have old tunnels we can hide most of our people in and strike from there when they least expect it. Surely that is agreeable?”

“I am certain the Emperor Traianus considered this possibility, but as it stands the city needs to be completely wiped out to deny them any strongholds. Surely you can understand that necessity?”

“I do, but when Traianus appointed me here it was to work, not to let it fall apart. I feel great shame in destroying it and would rather fight for it. Marius and his men can train our forces to the size of two legions if we incorporate all our citizens!”

Legate Marius grunted to the affirmative.

“Admirable as that may be, you must understand that it will only benefit the enemy. Not everyone will want to fight or be able to. Even if you care for them, who can say if the enemy begins to offer lucrative deals to those who stay with you? If only one traitor remains alive with you, this whole mission would be a failure, and that is ignoring the city’s population of demi-humans. We all know how bad their rebellions can be, and those rebellions lacked the organization of an enemy army.”

That was logical. Assuming the enemy was as powerful as he’d been told, there was no denying they might try to take advantage of weaknesses in the loyalty of their people. Yet he did not want to surrender his city, his province, his livelihood without the honor of a fight at the very least! He sighed, trying to prolong what he feared was now inevitable. A thought occurred, but just as he grasped for it, it was lost, ripped away from him as the strangest sound echoed outside.

The entire room had focused on that distant sound. It had been very quiet at first, he hadn’t really paid it any mind, but it got louder. Harder to ignore. Louder still, and oh so alien that the reality hit him that it was something coming closer. He eyed the windows, sunlight washing into them. He saw nothing but the sky and clouds alongside the hints of the sloped mountains nearby.

Strange.

Then the door swung open, a centurion bowed respectfully but quickly brought his news with urgency.

“Sire! The- the enemy! The enemy is approaching the city!”

There was a half-instant of frozen shock.

The enemy? The enemy that was stuck in the mountains? The enemy that wasn’t expected to get to Vicenzo for weeks if not months?

It mattered not. Both Sulla and Marius called their men to action and even Lucretius felt himself push away all coldness or fear away as he stood up and followed after them.

“We can organize the men into a makeshift auxiliary force!” Marius said.

Sulla quickly added “If you can do it, I will head to the city walls. They’re small but perhaps they are sturdy enough to buy time for your ground troops.”

“N-no sir, they are not on the ground, they are flying!”

Sulla froze, the realization taking a moment to wash over all of them, then growled to him “Governor, have you any fliers we can send up to meet them?”

Lucretius felt his stomach drop as he shook his head and said “No, we sent them all to General Atilla months ago. They never returned.”

“Damn. How many are… we… facing?”

Sulla’s words trailed off as they all stepped outside and saw them.

There were ten of them, flying about as high as most wyvern riders would. Even the pattern was similar to their wyvern riders. But these were not flying on wyverns. These did not appear to be like metal birds either, but rather strange flying machines that perhaps more closely resembled flying chariots. They all watched them slowly as they flew near the city walls, then turned and moved over the city itself.

Heading for them.

“What in the world…?” Sulla muttered aloud.

Marcius spoke Lucretius’ thoughts before he found his voice.

“The garden! They may try to land in the garden! If we can get there on time we may be able to inflict some damage!”

Lucretius nodded, and shouted, “Get more men! We will ambush them as they land!” then, to Sulla, “I told you we would fight here. I apologize it had to be this way.”

Sulla said nothing and followed after Marcius.

As the terrible machines approached, they scrambled for guards or really anyone who could wield a spear or bow, his panicked thoughts only went to one other person.

Hypatia, get out of there!

***

Jesus, we’ve stirred a hornet’s nest!

Dennis could see the men running around the palace grounds, quite a few with large spears. All in very clear and polished armor. All ready to kill. No American servicemember had been impaled by any spears since the campaign started, and while he recalled a few civilians had been impaled by the much shorter spears they carried, these… oh, these looked nastier. Longer, almost poles, which seemed appropriate for the taller men that carried them.

Dennis swallowed as the Hueys circled around the palace grounds, locating the garden. It was indeed perfect for the helicopters. It was a full-blown field with trees and hills and a pond. A stretch of greenery in a palace painted red and white, but that wasn’t what he could appreciate the most. No, he appreciated that the small hills they’d land by would provide some cover if things got bad.

He felt his throat dry up as Captain Rhodes spoke up.

“Remember, we do not engage even if they shoot first. Hold your fire unless told otherwise!”

Dennis wondered if the order needed to be emphasized further, but he made a point of keeping his M16 strapped to his back just in case. He’d go in, hands raised, backed up by Sean and the Green Berets that also spoke the language. He reminded himself that these were people, after all. Same as him and no different from back home.

The thought did not comfort him.

In a quick and swift motion that was over faster than he expected, the Hueys dropped into the palace grounds and touched down on the grass below. He did his best not to think about the possibility of becoming a pincushion for these men the moment he dropped from the helicopter. Rhodes suddenly handed him a small megaphone and gave him a reassuring nod. It didn't help much as he shouted the order to everyone else.

“Go! Go! Go!”

***

The well-organized beauty of the garden would certainly impress even the best designers in the world. Each tree was carefully trimmed, as were the bushes and green fields that complemented the marble walls of the Governor’s palace built by imperial hands so long ago.

Partly due to the dedication of its staff, partly due to the keen eye of the previous governor, the city of Vicenzo had been the center of commerce in the empire for a fair part of its thousand-year history. Its wide fields for farming and rural surroundings made keeping the local population fed easy enough while providing some goods for the capital, and the roads and highways built around it made business decent enough. It was a perfect spot for anyone coming into the Empire from the Alpines especially if they were heading to the capital.

Then that thing had opened up and the city needed to be destroyed. Perhaps with them inside, still. Hypatia sat silently, one hand on her belly. The small growth was just barely noticeable, not that it would have mattered to the barbarians invading, she was sure.

Amalia never considered Hypatia or their other surviving comrade, Heidi, much in the way of excellent fighters, but she wished she could have done more. Around them, a few other servants tended to the lands with palpable unease.

For Amalia and Heidi, however, it was Hypatia’s quiet words that made it clear the end had finally come.

“You wish for us to flee?” Heidi asked after the older of the three had spoken.

Hypatia spoke quietly still, not to get the attention of other servants working nearby.

“Selfish is it not? After so long I ask you to leave under cover of darkness. But what else can we do? We are being strangled on all sides.”

“Useless governor…” Amalia muttered, her left ear twitching in frustration.

Despite her blindness, Hypatia growled back at her “He did what he could! Far more than that snake did for us!”

Heidi, ever the peacemaker, asked “Why not flee with us?”

Hypatia’s hand flinched and her rabbit ears twisted downward as she said “I will only be a burden, for all of us. Best I do what I failed to do so long ago…”

“You already paid enough for that!” Amalia protested.

“So did our leaders, yet fate still chose a horrible end for them. So do us a favor and flee now. Maybe you will be able to witness the destruction of those who wronged us.”

Tempting…

Any consideration that could have been made had to be put on hold, however. Their rabbit ears all twitched simultaneously and they promptly froze. No one else reacted but them. It was a rumbling of sorts. Unnatural and far away, but it was closing.

Hypatia said “That… it must be them, no?”

“I do not know...” Heidi spoke frankly.

Amalia only said “If it is then fleeing is no longer possible. Sorry.” she said, smiling.

“You idiots… this-”

“Anyone else hear that?”

The girl with cat ears walked over with a curious expression, her tail briefly flicking at Amalia’s leg which caused the slightest spark of static to hit the girl’s exposed leg. Amalia considered hitting the girl with a pole, but another servant quickly spoke up, then another, and another.

“What is that?”

“Storm?”

“Is it getting closer?”

"Hypatia, the sound has only gotten louder. Whatever it is, it's coming closer… and fast." Heidi emphasized. Their long rabbit ears were not mere decorations, and they could detect the sound far ahead of their fellow workers, but what to do with the information was a different matter.

“Then we wait here.”

“You sure you would rather not be with your master?”

“I suppose I will miss him, but we already understood today would likely be our final day.”

"Very close, now..." Heidi emphasized, her rabbit ears briefly twitching every few seconds now as the sound became ever louder.

“We know, Heidi. Can we face our demise with dignity this time?”

"Understood ma'am." the bunny girl replied with little else, but Amalia saw the fear hidden behind her bravado.

“I wish we could have killed that traitor. That will be my one regret.”

“She’ll die the same as us, Amalia. Worry not.”

“I suppose.”

Around them, some of the servants and workers had begun to move into the palace again, but others waited. None were certain what to expect as the noise finally became unbearably close and the perpetrators visible.

Then they saw them.

"What are…?" Hypatia asked aloud before quickly covering her ears as the metallic bird quickly flew over the garden walls, circled the palace grounds above them once, and landed a fair distance from them all…

…right in the middle of the recently trimmed grass of the courtyard…

Amalia winced as another one landed right next to it and, one by one, eight of the mechanical, whirling, birds made the field of the courtyard their nest. Their roar was constant, painfully loud despite being further away. She covered her ears tightly as the others continued to touch down on the grass.

By the fifth one, it had become less frightening and more annoying. The grass had been trimmed not too long ago, it had been well cared for, the trees well groomed, and all that work had gone to waste.

And then to add insult to the blatant act of defacement, several young boys began hopping from these metal birds, kneeling on the ground, dark wands aimed at everything from the nearest bush to the furthest tree.

“What are…?”

Behind them, the soldiers arrived like lightning and formed up just behind them. Spears in hand, shields raised, a few pushed past them and formed a line, some appeared on the roof of the palace with bows as they prepared to meet the invaders. Amalia held her breath as the war came to them. She wished she had her blades on hand, but she balled her hands into fists. If she would die, then it would not be like those who ran.

For a second she could hear that these men spoke words she did not understand, nor cared to understand, but suddenly…

“We come in peace! Do not attack! We wish to parley! We come in peace! Do not attack!”

What?

She wasn’t the only one who heard it, but just to be sure, she turned to the guards who had pushed past her. They stood still, albeit stiffer now, spears still raised, ready to throw, but suddenly hesitant.

“You hear them, do you not?!” she demanded, expecting the men to have been able to react better than what they were doing now.

They ignored her, but suddenly she recognized Legate Marcius moving up, and next to him…

“Hypatia, your beloved is here!” she managed.

Hypatia had been silently listening, and seeing the opportunity, the smallest chance of avoiding the fate she had moments ago thought unavoidable, she stood and raised her hand as Tullius arrived. Amalia could only hope the man listened as well.

“Governor, they intend to talk!” Hypatia called out loudly.

The man froze. He glanced at the men in the mechanical monstrosities out on the palace grounds, some moving out, their hands raised up as they shouted over the loud whipping of the strange blades atop their metal chariots.

An officer said in a calm, matter-of-fact voice that was used by all soldiers when speaking with their superiors, “My men can hit them from here, sire! Just give the order!”

Even the legates were silent. They could hear the men ahead, calling for parley, defying the idea that this was an attack- that this was a war that would end when one side was gone.

Governor Tullius glanced at his legates.

The one by the name of Sulla only said “It may be a trick, but it may not, governor.”

Amalia saw as Hypatia bit her lower lip, not commenting, not daring to cross the line in front of an outside officer. But Amalia had no such qualms with her governor.

“Governor, if I may-”

Tullius was quick to silence her with a raise of his hand, and just as quick to say “Alright… Sulla, Marcius, listen well!”

***

Andrew Reagan kept his M2 Carbine shouldered as he shouted the same phrase alongside E Company’s Long Range Recon guys. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak the language much, but he felt confident enough that they could hear him.

The kid, Orville, had a megaphone, and at least he would be heard. He kept his hands on his weapon while the others raised them and kept their rifles on their backs. He recalled the only attempt at negotiations with the imperial forces and he would not let them do more damage than they could. Briefly, he'd wondered if there had been a miscommunication of sorts, but he doubted it.

Suddenly, a voice called back in the local tongue.

“That is far enough! Stay where you are! Any weapons you have must be lowered immediately!”

They turned to Dennis, who let out a breath as he called back “We understand!”

He glanced at him, and Reagan slung his carbine onto his back. Slowly. Smoothly. No need to alarm anybody by moving pointlessly quickly.

“Do not move from where you are! We will come to you!”

Dennis was quick to reply “Understood.”

The men they sent forward held their spears up. The larger ones. He didn’t like it. No, he did not like it one bit. Neither did anyone else as the soldiers in Roman garments and armor walked over to them, and verified them by sight alone before they glanced at the UH-1s. The gunships were still orbiting around the palace nearby, waiting, but far off enough it was still fairly quiet.

The men walked right up to them, then turned back to wave.

Still alive…

“What do you wish to discuss?” the voice then called again.

Dennis sucked in a breath and lifted the megaphone as he called back “The war, and perhaps an end to it!”

The man on the other side was quiet for a spell. The air hung heavily around them as the world seemed to remain in a state of bated breath. Even the pair of soldiers with spears kept glancing at the hill behind them every half-second, as if unsure if they were about to be killed either way.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than fifty seconds, the voice said

“Two of you may come forward to discuss. The rest must remain where you are!”

“We will comply!” Dennis called back.

Another voice called "Understand that treachery is not something we tolerate!"

"We understand!"

Andrew frowned.

That didn't stop the last guy when we tried to talk...

But at the very least they weren't dead, and it seemed that for the first time, they would be allowed to discuss things with these men from another world.