Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights (8 page)

He clapped Galborae on the back. “See, you’re already helping them, and not just the people in your town. You’re helping everyone on the planet. Keep thinking along those lines.”

That night Havlock borrowed a shuttle and took Galborae into orbit. When they approached the dark side of the planet and the many, many lights below came into view, Galborae got a better feeling for how many people lived on a planet.

“Imagine each light down there representing a town on your world,” Havlock said. “There will be many kings among them. You have to go to each king and explain who we are and why we have come. How are you going to do it?”

Galborae’s eyes blinked rapidly. “Are there so many?”

“I don’t know,” Havlock said, his hand taking Galborae’s shoulder in support, “but there will be quite a few. What we know with certainty is that however many gleasons there were when you left, there will be more of them when we return. They’re breeding, increasing their numbers every day. They’re my problem. Your problem is your people. They need you.”

“I can’t speak in so many places.”

“No, you can’t. You have to recruit others and teach them what to say, then send them out in your place. You have to learn how to lead many people.”

Galborae brightened. “I can do that.”

“We’ll clear all the gleasons from your kingdom, then ask your king to provide messengers you can train to go to other kingdoms with my men.”

“He’ll agree.”

“He might, and he might not. Kings have a tendency to want power, the more power the better. They never want less. Now all of a sudden he won’t be the most powerful person in his kingdom. We will, and because of us, you are. He’ll be suspicious and afraid, and that’s going to be repeated everywhere we go. Before long, kings will start wondering if you might have given more to a neighboring kingdom than you gave to them. I’m talking about food, weapons, and knowledge. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

Galborae nodded. “I do. The gleasons come first, but after that, there could be disputes, maybe even war.”

“There will be wars. That’s what we Imperial Marines spend most of our time stopping, and it’s part of the reason General Stymes wants a thousand ships. We won’t just be killing gleasons, we’ll be keeping your kingdoms from each other’s throats. I’m guessing we’ll end up having a presence on your world for a long time to come, probably a big presence.”

He stared into Galborae’s eyes. “Our effectiveness begins with you.” He pointed to the lights shining below on the planet. “Are you prepared to talk to kings, and are you ready to show others how to talk to kings?”

“I’m ready to kill gleasons, but I hear you. I will think on this.” He stared down at the sparkling world below with a forlorn expression. “How am I going to find my home?”

Havlock ignored the question. “Tell me, what’s it like to fight a gleason?”

Galborae’s whole body tensed momentarily, then he became his old self again. “I don’t really know. I only fought one and I lost that fight. I believe I killed it, but in my mind I was dead as well. It’s worse than your worst nightmare. I only had a vague idea about where it was, but I suddenly sensed it beside me, then I felt its warm breath on my face. The next thing I knew, it’s arms went around me. Claws pierced my armor as if it wasn’t even there. The one that killed me was, I believe, playing with me and the others. It could have taken all of us without effort, but it took its time. The only way we fought back at all was through our melds.”

“Oh?”

Galborae nodded. “Our melds sensed it and attacked. Brael and I moved in with swords as the gleason made short work of our melds. We injured it, but we were really just flailing around trying to make contact. Brael died, then I killed the gleason as it killed me. I learned later that a second gleason fought the rest of my men. Your Knight’s men got there right about then with the intention of testing an idea that stunners would make the gleason think it was mortally wounded. It must have worked because it became visible, but just for a moment. As soon as it did, everyone who was still standing attacked it with arrows and an axe. They never stood a chance. They died before the Knight’s men learned they needed to stun it harder. Once they learned that, they then killed it with blasters.”

“What were you doing there in the first place?”

“The gleasons were new to our land. We received several reports of people suffering horrible deaths, and I was sent to investigate. We tracked it, though we had no idea what we were tracking. In the end, we became its prey. These creatures are worse than your worst nightmare. As anxious as I am to return home, I cannot say there will be any home to return to.”

“Well, whenever I do get you back home, I need to make sure you stay alive.” Havlock looked down at Galborae’s sword. “We’ve issued you a stunner and a blaster, yet you still carry your sword.”

“I have not been apart from my sword since I started training as a young man. I like your blasters, but for close fighting, the sword has some advantages.” He drew it out and smoothly cut the air a few times, then held it out to Havlock.

When Havlock took the sword, he almost dropped it. “It’s heavy!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t even notice anymore,” Galborae said. “The weight helps it to cut and pierce better.”

Havlock ran a thumb along the edge and was surprised at how sharp it was. Clearly, Galborae took good care of his equipment. He considered for a time, then said, “For your own safety, I want you to be fully outfitted like a marine, including our body armor and helmet, but you’ll be introducing me to kings. Body armor that looks more like what you’re wearing now would work better.”

“If you have such a thing, bring as much as you can. I’m not the only knight on Tranxte who would benefit from it.”

“I wonder if we could come up with a better sword?”

Galborae took his sword back possessively. “I like the one I have.”

Havlock nodded, but his eyes took on a far away look.

* * * * *

Galborae became a fixture at Havlock’s side. When they boarded the transporter two days before departure, Havlock presented Galborae with a pile of new uniforms. Atop that pile rested a sword, a much lighter, shorter, and narrower sword than Galborae’s iron broadsword.

Galborae set the sword aside, dismissing it with a scowl, but his eyes gleamed at the new uniform. He had been wearing the standard marine body armor during his training, a soft, snugly fitting suit that covered him from neck to toes, but the pattern in the green and brown armor was impossible to focus on properly. Whenever he tried, he came away with a headache.

His new body suit was made of the same military grade material that instantly hardened when struck by a projectile, but it more closely resembled what he had been wearing when rescued from Tranxte. Dark blue, the armor included gloves, boots and a heavy, thigh-length cloak of the same material. His kingdom’s coat of arms, a silver shield emblazoned with two silver, crossed broadswords below a silver helm, had been worked into the chest of the armor and the back of the cloak.

Body armor was not perfect. It could be crushed if a force was applied over a large enough area, and the force of whatever hit the material could still cause bodily damage, but a sword, an arrow, a standard blaster shot and, hopefully, gleason claws and teeth would not penetrate. Various communication links imbedded within the armor would keep him in constant contact with other members of the squad and with the shuttle, and the suit would display pertinent information automatically to a visor attached to his helmet.

A smaller piece of the same material fell to the deck. Galborae picked it up and held it out, but it made no sense to him. “What is it?” he asked.

“I had it made for Limam,” Havlock said. “It’s a scaled down version of the body armor occasionally worn by our Great Cats. I don’t know if she’ll wear it, but if she will, it will provide her with a modicum of protection, certainly more protection that if she wears nothing.”

Galborae blinked several times, not sure what to think. He doubted if Limam would wear the thing, but Havlock’s intent spoke volumes about the man.

“Thank you, Colonel,” he said. “This means a lot to me.”

Havlock picked up the sword and held it out to Galborae. “I think this will, as well.” When Galborae scowled, he said, “I’m just asking you to give it a try. Engineers made it just for you and it’s the only one in existence. The technology is based on equipment used by our miners.”

Galborae shrugged and picked up the sword still enclosed in its scabbard. “It’s too light and too short. It won’t work.”

“Just try it.”

Galborae slid the sword from its scabbard and his jaw dropped open. The blade looked like a child’s toy and was only as long as his forearm. He rolled his eyes toward Havlock. “This is a joke, right?”

“Actually, no. It’s more than it seems.”

With those words, Galborae gave the toy more attention, but he could not bring himself to believe Havlock was serious. The blade was dull black instead of shiny, narrow instead of wide, and far too short. Except for the full-size hand guard, the blade looked more like a knife. He brought the blade in and tested it with a finger, nodding knowingly. “Your craftsmen forgot the most important part—it’s dull. I might be able to sharpen it myself, but this knife is only for show. My arm barely feels it. A warrior needs a heavy blade.”

“Does he?” Havlock asked.

Galborae nodded. “You’re not a swordsman, so I wouldn’t expect you to know, but a blade is heavy not just for penetration but for defense. Stopping an opponent’s blade takes strong shoulders and a heavy blade.”

“You’re the expert, not me,” Havlock said, nodding his head in agreement. “Let’s go to the training room. I want you to meet Sergeant Guarl.”

Guarl, a four-armed Dramda, greeted them as they entered. “I’ll be your weapons instructor during our voyage,” Guarl informed Galborae. “By the time we reach Tranxte, you’ll be an expert with stunners and blasters of all types.”

Galborae eyed him with curiosity. “I met two of your people on the Knight’s ship, though I had little time to get to know them. Can you use weapons in each hand?”

Guarl shrugged. “Depends on the weapon. Today we start with the sword.”

Galborae raised his eyebrows. “You’re a swordsman?”

“I like weapons of all kinds. Let’s find out. I’ll only use one blade this time.”

Havlock excused himself and left on other business. Guarl brought out wooden practice blades, weighted to simulate Galborae’s broadsword, and he and Galborae sparred for a while. Galborae reveled in the process, using muscles he had not tested since his fight with the gleason.

Then Guarl switched Galborae to his new, tiny sword while keeping his own heavier sword. The heavier sword made short work of the tiny sword in Galborae’s hand, but when the two men traded swords, Guarl’s skill with the lighter weapon had Galborae in a heavy sweat as he tried to keep up with Guarl’s faster movements.

“You’ve made your point,” Galborae finally admitted, breathing hard to get the words out. “But that knife does not have the weight to penetrate chainmail, nor does it have the necessary reach.”

“Agreed,” Guarl said, lowering his knife. “Are you planning to fight other knights?”

Galborae rolled his shoulders, keeping his broadsword at the ready and his eyes on Guarl’s sword. It had been a long time since a master swordsman had surprised him, and he was not going to let it happen now.

“Maybe. I’m supposed to introduce Colonel Havlock to kings on Tranxte. It will not always be a smooth process.”

Guarl nodded thoughtfully in agreement. “Our blasters are excellent for long and medium range work, and they’re acceptable for close-up fighting, but in hand-to-hand fighting I prefer a short sword or knife.”

“Or bare hands,” Galborae said nodding in agreement. “I’ve spent a lifetime with the sword. As much as I appreciate the benefits of blasters, I will always carry a sword.”

“Colonel Havlock knows. It’s why he had the new sword made for you.”

“A new sword for the—what do you call me?—the barbarian who knows no better? I understand, but this time he’s wrong. I know what I’m talking about.”

Guarl shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. He admires your survival skills, so much so that he has given you a great gift. Keep in mind that he will likely be by your side when weapons come into play. It might be his life you save with your new sword, and he knows it.”

“My old sword.”

“Maybe. You might change your mind.” He put Galborae’s new sword back into its scabbard and called, “On guard!”

The tip of Galborae’s broadsword came up, but when the knife cleared its scabbard in Guarl’s hand, the black metal blade was gone. Instead, the outline of a shimmering yellow blade sprung into existence. The blade was as long as his broadsword, but its shape was like an elongated leaf, narrow at the hilt, widening out in the middle, then narrowing back to a sharp tip.

The tip of his broadsword held, but he stared at the glowing blade with a look of bafflement. Guarl moved in on him. With a few light flicks of his wrist, the flat, nearly invisible glowing blade destroyed Galborae’s practice sword. Galborae backed away with wide eyes. The light outlining his new sword died, and it returned to its dull black knife shape as Guarl sheathed it.

“What just happened?” Galborae asked in awe.