Princess Rescue Inc (82 page)

The
boy darted out past Ryans. Ryans glanced in his direction and then watched as
Deidra sat. She shot a glance over her shoulder to him and then turned her full
attention to her mother.

Her
mother sighed and set the scroll down in her lap. She tiredly took off her
glasses and rubbed her forehead, eyes closed.

“Bad?”
Ryans asked.

“The
damage is extensive, but it's too soon to tally. The storm season has only just
begun after all.”

“I'd
say bad then,” Ryans said. He shook his head. He turned to see the General come
striding in with Duke Pryor.

“Did
you see this?” the General demanded, waving a scroll. “Of all the effrontery!
The Imperium is besieged by the Duluth lice and they dare refuse to send the
levy of men?!” the General snarled, clearly incensed. The Duke nodded in
agreement.

“Not
even a pence!” the General snarled, sitting down. The Duke sat as well. Ryans
shrugged and took a seat himself.

“Calm
yourself gentlemen,” the Queen said, opening her eyes. She sighed. “I dare say
I can't blame them, if the damage is as extensive as they have listed here.”
She hefted her own scroll. “They will be hard pressed to get enough food before
winter comes in.”

“Food?”
the General growled. “You talk of food at a time like this?” he demanded. He
waved his own scroll angrily.

Deidra
placed her hand on the old goat's then looked at her mother. “He's right
mother. I went with father twice to see the damage remember? Earl Jericho is
more interested in repairing his vineyards than in laying in food for his
people,” she warned. “Mark my words he'll do nothing for them but force them to
repair the vineyards and then when the winter snows hit he'll be begging for
food for them once more.”

“I
take it the vineyards are his county's only export?” Ryans asked. She gave him
a look then curled her lip and shook her mane. “Or not,” he said dryly.

Deidra
wrinkled her nose. “He keeps it all to himself. The fat...” The Duke cleared
his throat. She shot him a dirty look and then frowned, cutting the tirade
short.

“Indeed,
some have their priorities out of order. But what is done is done. We can't
very well send men to force them to comply after all, that would only weaken us
further,” the Queen sighed.

The
General opened his mouth and then closed it as the thought registered. After a
moment he reluctantly nodded. He picked up a flaggon of ale and took a gulp.
His hand shook when a bolt of lightning and peal of thunder startled them all.

“Cursed
storms,” he growled, then wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. He
turned rheumy eyes on Ryans. “Can you change the weather with your technology?”
he asked disdainfully.

Ryans
snorted. “We already had this conversation earlier actually General. The short
answer is it depends on the weather,” Ryans said sitting back. “Sure we can
redirect lightning to keep it from striking where we don't want it too.” He
shrugged as the others winced as lightning flashed again. Thunder rolled a
second later.

“Is
that why you’re all jumpy?” Ryans asked, looking from one to another. The Queen
nodded.

“I
don't blame you, lightning is dangerous,” Ryans said. They could hear the
pitter patter of rain swell. He waited until the downpour began to ease before
continuing.

“See,
we can seed clouds to make it rain, but it isn't very effective,” he explained.

“So
you’re not gods,” the Duke said smiling. For some reason he felt a great deal
of relief over that.

“Never
said we were,” Ryans answered glancing his way. “We're human, just like anyone
else here. We just know a lot more and know we've still got a lot to learn,” he
said and then shrugged.

“And
your remedy for this pox of a storm?” the General asked.

“Stay
out of the rain,” Ryans shrugged. “Forecasting is the best answer. Knowing when
and where bad weather will strike and for how long is key in intelligent
planning,” he said with a pointed dig at the General. He smiled, bowing
slightly to the General. “Both in strategic planning for a battlefield, and,”
he turned bowing to the Queen, “in managing an Imperium.”

“Ah,”
the General said, looking thoughtful as he nodded and rubbed his chin. “Yes.
There's truth in that. Knowing when rains will make a river swell and flood,
when it'll turn the fields to muck and mire...” He nodded, taking another gulp
of ale. “Yes, yes, there's truth in that. But these giant storms...” he waved.

“We
call them hurricanes or typhoons. The ones that form over water anyway,” Ryans
shrugged. “The ones that form from thunder clouds over land we call tornadoes,”
he said. “The best thing we can do is predict where and when they are coming,
warn the people in the way and then hunker down and ride it out,” he grimaced.
“Or get out of the way if it's possible. Ships use this ability a lot on
Earth.”

“Indeed.
We must invest in this when the war is over,” the Duke said, glancing at the
Queen. She nodded. “Too many of our ships have been lost at sea over the eons.”

“Yeah
well, that happens. Especially with wooden ships,” Ryans said. He vowed to
never, never ever get on a native vessel if it was made out of wood.

“Indeed,”
the General nodded. “But on to this matter...” He waved.

“I
think it's a pain but we may not need them,” Ryans said frowning.

“What?”
The General said turning to him. “What did you say?” he growled.

Ryans
shrugged. “Sure it's nice to have as many men and as much material as you can
get your hands on. Any General worth his salt always wishes for more,” he
smiled. The General nodded grudgingly and motioned him to continue. “But
sometimes you have to go with what you have,” Ryans shrugged. “Fortunately
we've got force multipliers with my people and the gear we've brought... And
the gear we've made here with your people,” he said. He nodded politely to the
Duke and the Queen. “I think they should tip the balance.”

The
General frowned ferociously. “We shall see shall we?” the Queen said, putting
her own hand on his.

The
General turned to her and then bowed. “As your majesty wishes,” he sighed.

 When
Art’ur got word of the wonder weapons killing not one but two dragons. He was
suddenly subdued. Uuôden was unsure what to do. As they contemplated the spy
report explosions ripped into the darkened camp. They swung into action.

Dogzards
were immediately loosed. The
animals had been starved to make them more savage. Unfortunately for the Duluth
the Gunny had planned on them this time. The animals stopped at carcasses he
and his men had lovingly provided on their escape routes and exploded when they
picked and tore at the booby trapped bodies.

Art’ur
was enraged but became pensive when he found out that half his grain stocks had
been destroyed in the fire. Three siege engines were now gone and many of his
food animals were stampeding with his cavalry mounts. Some of his Titans were
amongst them, tearing them apart one after another or tearing into each other.
One of his favorite beasts was down, gored in the side by another. It moaned,
pawing and clawing at the earth before its head lolled to the side, tongue out
and eyes glazing over in death. Another beast tore through the camp, stomping
tents and fires, spraying the area with flaming embers. It was chaos.

“Such
is war,” Uuôden said, waving to men to get in and sort out the mess before it
got any worse.

For
the first time Art’ur now had doubts about this campaign. Nothing had gone
right since the siege had begun. Oh sure, their initial victories had been
pleasing but now...

He
turned, pacing. The problem was he couldn't withdraw. Oh the pass could be run;
he could hammer the ruins with his entire army and escape. That wasn't the
problem. No it was his lords. Should he show weakness now, should he
hesitate... it would cost him dearly. Possibly his life, he realized, slowing
and stopping.

The
only way was to press on, to keep fighting; it was what his father had taught
him. He'd learned some hard lessons in this but he knew he could come out on
top, stronger than ever given time.

“Get
the fools under control. If they've run off, and I believe they have then
settle our men and get the camp straightened out. Tomorrow we attack at dawn,”
Art’ur commanded, whirling about and heading to his tent.

“With
what sized force my liege?” Uuôden asked.

Art’ur
froze and then whirled. His eyes glittered. “Why everything of course, spread
the word. We'll avoid the gates. Focus on the midpoints on three sides. We'll
drive the prisoners we have ahead to force them to either slaughter them or
delay in firing.”

“My
liege what about the capital?” Uuôden asked, coming closer to him.

“Them?
The cowards and lice?” Art’ur roared. Men around them stopped to stare at him.
He turned glaring. “Get back to work the lot of you!” he snarled. “If the
Imperium had forces they'd come with their army. They do not have them!” he
brayed, turning in place. “That's why they sting us with these ticks. We'll
overcome them and be triumphant! Tomorrow at dawn! Spread the word!”

<==={}------------>

“We're
reaching an end to the viability of the Silent Knight activities boss,” Waters
said giving them both a look. He had a tablet under one arm.

“Ah?”
Ryans asked sitting back. He held a beer stein. He was getting used to the
native beer. It was improving now that Max, Charlie, and Scooter had slipped
the local brewers some much needed help.

“We've
hit every vulnerable, soft target. Now Duluth is finally wising up and
redeploying his men as guards on his vitals.”

“Shit,”
Perry grimaced. “What's the take?” He wasn't at all happy about letting Gunny
Paris loose with the last class. Perry kicked himself nightly worrying about
what they were up to.

Waters
looked down to his tablet. “Three more siege engines, most of his grain was
burned, his feed animals were stampeded everywhere, and we used some C-4 to
spook his cavalry. He's lost about twenty to twenty-five percent by the Gunny's
estimate. From what the Gunny said that did a lot of damage, he got tricky and
set up his charges to blow so the animals would stampede through the camp. We
also got the UAVs up; they gave us a really accurate map of their camps and the
battlefield.”

Perry
smiled grimly. The UAVs were rebuilt from the UAVs Ryans had sent through to
scout the portal area. Well, one was, the other two were short ranged military
grade UAVs. “I take it they did it at night?”

“Oh
of course,” Waters replied smiling grimly himself. They could both imagine the
chaos the Gunny had inflicted in the camp. “I wish we could've had a few more
teams up, we probably could have gotten in and taken the leadership out.”

Ryans
shook his head. “No, that would probably have been a bad idea,” Ryans replied
studying his beer. They both looked at him. He looked up and shrugged.

“Honest,
they don't exactly have a clear cut chain of command, so there's no one to take
up the reins right off. So if you cut off the head they would break into
factions or dissolve...”

“Which
is a bad thing?” Waters asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Yes
and no. Some would probably head for home, but some would turn bandit and start
hammering the smaller keeps and villages.”

“Still,
not as bad as going toe to toe with them,” Waters replied. He still didn't like
the numbers even though theirs were almost even now. Less than ten percent had
modern weapons though.

“Ah,
but I don't want to just do that,” Ryans smiled coldly. “I want to
break
them.
And
send a message to anyone who wants to go a Viking to pick
better pastures.”

“New
sheriff in town?” Waters snorted.

“Something
like that,” Ryans answered, eyes glittering. He had another message in mind of
course, one for the Imperium lords. Don't rebel or you could be next.

“Sometimes
I worry about you boss. There's such a thing as biting off more than you can
chew,” Perry said shaking his head. “I still like defeat in detail.”

“You
may sir, I don't. I still remember Iraq,” Waters shrugged off Perry's look.
“Second war I mean. They wouldn't even fight us, just went to ground and did a
guerrilla war. Not something I'd like to have to face here if you don't mind.
Playing whack the terrorist, chasing them all over creation... Worrying about
villages getting ransacked or towel heads popping out of the hills every time
you turn your back is a young man's game.”

“Yeah.
There's that,” Perry nodded. “They kept weapons fire down to a minimum?”

Waters
nodded. “The Gunny reported only expending forty-three rounds. Mostly by
snipers taking out forces chasing them when they pulled out,” Waters replied
hefting his own stein.

“They
did it far enough away so the enemy didn't see what happened?” Ryans asked
pointedly.