Chapter 6

Alpine Mountain Range

Alan tried to hold the “headphones” in place as the flying machine he was in descended very quickly. His new uniform was comfortable except for the awkward way it contorted around his tail. The hat was at least more comfortable than the steel helmets the men around him wore, which his wolf ears certainly appreciated. It even made it easier to keep the headphones on, and that was vital given the painfully loud sound of the beasts they rode.

He did not know much English yet and he still needed an interpreter, but as they began to land, he knew he simply had to affirm what the men who had been helping his people already suspected. It was clear that even in the darkness, the men were fairly capable of moving around, but still, he called out as he recognized the patch of grass.

“Here! Yes! Here!”

The flying machines- “Hueys”, they called them, then suddenly began to fire their guns wildly into the flat area. Thanks to the headphones, he felt rather than heard the weapons and their loud, continuous, thunderclaps. He smelled their sulfuric smoke as he hopped off, however, and while it was distracting, he kept his pace alongside several other men who aimed their weapons at the shadows caused by the lights now flipped on. By that point, the guns were less important than the painful whipping of the rotors and engine behind him. He kept his ears lowered to try and lessen the painful sound, but otherwise kept silent himself.

He was a Lupus tribesman, no different than Luna, and if a woman could help these men, then so could he, damn it!

Behind them, the larger flying machines, “Chinooks”, hovered overhead with the important weaponry.

He watched as men readied a perimeter in the darkness. The tall grass was moved away by the powerful machines as they lowered themselves over the small patch of land. But these wouldn’t land. No, they lowered the large weapons down, and the men very quickly untethered them before rolling one away to make room for the next one. Another of the Chinooks approached, lowered itself enough for the weapon to be untethered, then pulled back for the next as men rolled it away.

He watched the man with the box on his back listening intently in the dark as the process repeated.

His interpreter approached, not yet speaking but standing by, and he decided to ask his questions now.

“How long?”

The young man shrugged, then said, speaking loudly over the engines of the powerful machines “You said there is no other way up here but to fly in, right?”

“Yes, this small flat of land is inaccessible. We had seen it on our own expeditions, but never reached it. You needed wyverns, or… well, those.” he pointed as a fifth machine repeated the process.

The man muttered something, then quickly said “It makes it a little difficult for our towed artillery, but we can manage. Should just be within range of the city with these.”

“No risk of hitting the city itself?” He asked.

There were peaks around them, which made it effectively impossible to see out into the imperial lands. Maybe if he climbed up, he could see the glow of the city which wasn’t that far away. Yet even then, these weapons had proven to be effective even if their crews could not see what they were trying to hit. Like throwing an arrow over a hill hoping to hit an enemy general. Difficult, but as shown by them, not impossible.

As the artillery guns were dug into place, he began to sense the very first rays of sunlight.

Would it end the fighting in the city?

Really, did it matter if it did? While he and his tribe had some attachment to the city, it wasn’t like they were vital trade partners, and it also wasn’t like the Americans absolutely needed it. He’d seen their flying machines, fixed wings and rotors alike could give the best of the Empire’s wyvern corps a beating, and supposedly more capable ones were coming soon. Why protect a city for them?

They were different men, alright.

He reminded himself that, but also, as the man on the radio began to talk, he reminded himself of one other factor.

These men can still slaughter as well as anyone…

Vicenzo

Parthea burst into the Americans’ command center.

“What the blazes was that?!” She demanded. The lone interpreter appeared exhausted as if he had been pulled from his sleep. He kept rubbing his eyes as he tried to interpret from their officers to his officers and vice versa. One of the men on a “radio” said something rapidly to him, and he translated it back to the legate as well as his officers, which made the situation a little more clear to her. The fact was, he was ignoring her. Knowing kicking up a storm would benefit no one, she hung back a little. Listening. A good huntress was patient, after all.

“Looks like a Western segment of wall really was destroyed by this weapon of theirs, but our men are holding everywhere else.”

Legate Marcius was not entirely convinced.

“If they destroyed a section of the wall, then it must be reinforced immediately. Are your men there still alive?”

The young interpreter- not the grumpy one- what was his name? Sean? She shook her head. He was a soldier, nothing more. He translated for the commanding officer who leaned over one of the young men working on the “radio”. The man spoke something into the machine. He waited. He repeated the words. The machine crackled back to life slightly. In the distance, she could still hear the American artillery flying skyward towards varied parts of the city to support the defenders. She felt her jaw clench and her hands tighten into fists as the interpreter finally translated the answer.

“We do not know.” Sean finally said, frustrated not unlike her or anyone else in charge.

Marcius only huffed a tired, resigned, “Oh. Well, excellent. At least we know that we do not know.”

She had to speak up there.

“You do- you do not know?! How can you not-” she restrained herself immediately. Not the time for panic. She instead, attempting to speak calmly, asked “What can we do?”

The commanding officer replied something she could not understand, but Sean was quick to translate, and with the look on the man’s face as he paced around, going from the small map they had on a table and the radioman, she had to admit she was out of her depth. The translation came slowly and methodically as even Sean became a little more awake now.

“Octavius is making a push on all sides, but he has not fully dedicated to one portion of the city. He lost his wyverns, our weapons are harassing his forces day and night, he is trying to keep our men occupied all while we get stronger.”

Legate Marcius said, “Of course, but if he pierced a wall, then he will move his forces there and try to break through.”

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Sean was not done, “So now he is going to try and funnel forces through that breached segment of the wall, but we all know that a breached wall isn’t much easier to go through if it is well-defended. He is going to have to devote a lot of men to such an attack if he wants to go through, and by the time he gathers them and pushes them on us-”

The commanding officer slapped the map on the table, a strange smile on his face as he spoke, but if it was anger, fear, or confidence, she could not know.

Sean then said, “Our bigger weapons are being set up. Our men just have to hold a little.”

She asked, “Bigger weapons?”

“The tube artillery we mentioned? Bigger ones. They are being set up by a peak not too far from here.”

Even Parthea had to ask how far, given the nearest peak was still a few leagues away despite the city’s proximity to the country-spanning wall that was the Alpine mountain range. She already knew that the concept of "long-range" was a game these men from another world liked to employ quite liberally to their advantage. Attacks from the air, and now “bigger” artillery that could fly for whole leagues?

Marcius added, “But if he breaks through, and disrupts the efforts to keep the fires under control, we could lose a massive portion of the city. The fires have already burned much of the civilian dwellings on the outskirts, and if the food stores or supply homes are burned as well the city will not make it to winter.”

Sean translated.

Their commanding officer said something, and Sean translated, “The civilians can be secured behind the palace walls. He will not be allowed to destroy the entire city even if he gets through, but he will not get through.”

Parthea frowned at that answer.

The men did not need the city intact or even the civilians to be alive. Yes, they were helping them, and yes, they hoped to gain something from it, but they didn’t need them, and for as kind as some might interpret their actions, she could already see the look in the American’s eyes. The man wanted to win. Saving the city was secondary to defeating General Octavius.

She decided to speak aloud then, “You must ensure the protection of the city as well as the people here.”

The men turned to her, finally.

She added quickly, “The damage is terrible enough already, but if they break through, then what?”

Translate.

The interpreter then said, “We want to avoid that, as well. We are simply going over the worst-case scenarios as it stands right now. But we do intend to protect this city.”

She then said, “Make sure you do, and make sure you do it well!”

The commanding officer frowned at her as Sean translated, then he spoke again, a little quieter, and Sean translated to her.

“We will do what we can.”

Marcius scratched the back of his head, then said “Thank you, gentlemen, now…” turning to her, “Highness, if I may?”

He led her out of their command center and spoke calmly as more of the American flying machines arrived.

“Highness, you recall that our people attacked them first, yes?”

A little indignant, she said, “Of course, but if they wish to have my help then there is nothing wrong with demanding they ensure the city.”

“Certainly, but a word of advice, your men will be a lot more willing to follow you if you try to see things from their point of view.”

“I was not ignoring their perspective, I was-”

“No, I understand, you are looking out for our citizens. That is fine. But right now, this battle is… it is an awkward one. Neither of us has the men to simply engage directly in a decisive manner.”

“Legate?”

“Understand this, as it stands, the situation is not at a stalemate, but neither side is delivering a decisive blow just yet, even with their powerful weaponry.”

“So?

“So, for all his faults, Octavius is a general who knows enough to try and take advantage of a situation, and right now he has them reacting to him. It is the best they can do with what they presently have. Would you expect me to subdue an entire colony of beast men with just fifty men?”

Her frown deepened, and she simply said, “They wish to gain something from this, helping us is secondary and itself is being done to gain something.”

“Well, of course.”

“So holding them to a higher standard is appropriate.”

She glanced at the flying machines as more men and materiel were delivered, and the injured loaded onboard.

“How much more of this?”

***

“Damn it, how much more of this cursed fire?!” Octavius shouted as the American flying machines roared overhead and unleashed death over the forest. Lucy had seen them up close by now, but it was still horrifying watching them effectively breathe death onto their enemies. They roared, and men unlucky enough to have not found any cover fell apart in bloody chunks of body parts that she could see all too well in the dark.

The truly unfortunate remained alive.

As testimony to their destructive prowess, the machines really only hovered overhead, killing whatever they could, for a few seconds. Yet even then, the amount of damage and destruction caused tended to be equal to an hours-long battle.

As they flew away, Lucy stood from the grass that hid her.

Octavius was enraged as he picked up a spear and chucked it at the flying machines. She did not see it hit, but she thought she heard something strike metal.

Still, the Imperial General loudly distracted her.

“Who lives?!” he demanded.

Groans and loud calls of affirmation resounded through the forest even as those mortally wounded but not yet dead moaned in agony.

“We are close… we are very close to victory here.” He said as he pointed at the shattered wall.

Lucy said, “Can you move men here fast enough?”

Octavius looked pensive, his pointed finger slowly wagging rhythmically as if a plan was being formed. She shuddered to contemplate it. Even her skill did not allow her to fully see into the minds of others. Even then she detected a desperation from him, as if electrical sparks were shooting off from his head to stab at hers.

“The men there are not fully organized. They cannot be.” He whispered to himself now, and he bgan to pace closer to the forest’s edge.

“General Octavius!”

“Silence, Agent… I… yes, yes, this is the way.”

What are you planning-?

“All soldiers, rally to me!” he barked loudly.

The men performed admirably, moving to him immediately. None wore their polished armor. All had removed them in favor of darker tunics to better hide in the darkness. They looked like marauders if anything, with the only thing that glistened in the darkness being the iron tips of their spears and the blades on their short swords. If there were any men defending the wall, the possibility of their imperial blades cutting hacking and slashing them to pieces felt far more likely for the first time since the Americans invaded.

And yet...

“Centurion!” he barked, searching those around him, barely visible in the darkness.

“Dead.” the young fire mage managed, already appearing exhausted.

“Fine, you will do. Inform Sulla of the following. He shall organize the legion here, but his centuries must engage every position along the city walls, the same as the rest of the army. We are going to push on all fronts now! North, south, east, and west, we push into the city in groups of one hundred!”

Then, to the men, “I will lead you into this first probing attack myself, this is to buy time for Sulla to bring the rest of the legion here and charge right into this cursed city! Their ranged weapons will not work up close! Certainly not!”

Then, pointing at the breach, “A mere hundred of us cannot break through even that, but if we can prevent them from reinforcing it, we can get in and destroy the city, barring these invaders any use!”

The young mage straightened. The men around him seemed to fill with resolve as victory seemed at hand. Go in. Burn as much as possible. Flee. It sounded so easy and if Octavius believed it, then so would the men.

Lucy cringed as the general stepped forward more.

“We win here, then, oh…” he laughed, “Oh, the deaths we have suffered will be all the worth it. This would be an undeniable defeat and setback to them! A point of negotiation! Are you with me?!”

The men loudly grunted in the affirmative.

He turned to her then.

“Agent of Seljuk, witness my victory and report it to the Emperor!”

“And if you fail?” she tried to temper his resolve a little.

He only laughed, then unsheathed his short sword and waved his men ahead.

“To victory, men! Forward!”