Wizard's Blood [Part Two] (45 page)

“
The Queen was quite pleased with the results of the first encounter of the season,” Wylan said. He and Jolan were sitting in the major’s office discussing the event and trying to come to some conclusions about what else the enemy would be initiating soon. They both were a bit surprised nothing had happened as yet.

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The success of the effort belongs to Tishe,” Jolan said. “We managed to take out a few of their ships before they reached Bandu, but if it hadn’t been for the amazing abilities she displayed, the outcome at the port most likely would have been far less satisfactory.”

“
Yes, a very remarkable feat. The cost to Ale’ald has to be punishing. They lost a significant fraction of the ships they had available, not to mention a goodly number of wizards and troops. Chancellor Vaen was telling me she’d never encountered that linking technique you described. Are you certain it wasn’t simply a very powerful wizard?”

“
I talked with Vaen about that as well. I can’t be positive, but that’s what I was sensing at the time. The shields seemed to fall apart when one of the supporting wizards was killed by the explosion beneath the ship, so I still think that was what they were doing somehow. She’s got people looking into it. If that linking is something many of them can do, it might present a real problem for us.”

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It makes one wonder what they have planned for the river assault. One cannot fault their determination.”

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Are we still convinced that is the way they plan to come?” Jolan asked, although there wasn’t any other choice that seemed likely. They had spies keeping an eye on the mountains in southern Seret, and no build up of troops had been detected. It wouldn’t be easy or quick to move troops that way, and without revealing the effort to anyone who was looking, virtually impossible.

“
Their security has been excellent. They have troops in place all up and down the river, and the rumblings are consistent that they plan a river crossing somewhere. We have all of the likely places covered, but we have found no sign of the means to make such an assault. There is no build up of boats or barges. Most would only be able to make a one way crossing because of the current, so it would take a considerable number. Our spies have been busy around the clock, and have found no sign of such a fleet. Building a bridge to replace one of those they destroyed last year would require an obvious effort and would take weeks.”

“
There is no place they could cross on foot?”

“
There are places near the head waters back in the mountains. Those places are being watched and have problems of their own, not to mention the crossing would be observed, and it would literally take half of the spring season for the troops to make the long trek down toward Carta, which we know is their prime objective. We would have troops in place to harass them the entire way, and their supply lines would be unsustainable.”

They continued to discuss possibilities, both men knowing that an attack had to come soon. Ale’ald would have tried to coordinate the efforts of the sea attack and their land assault. The failure of the sea attack may have put them off a few days, but they couldn’t delay much longer. The men and supplies had to be in place, so the longer they delayed, the greater the chance someone would stumble onto their plan. While they were talking one of Wylan’s senior aides hurried into the room carrying a message for the major. Wylan paled as he read the note.

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Dragons!” he swore and handed the note to Jolan while he gave the aide instructions.

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Poison gas,” Jolan said surprised. They had known that Ale’ald had experimented with it before, but had found it too unpredictable and difficult to deliver. He read further with a growing sense of dread as the note explained how the enemy was delivering the foul stuff.

Somehow Ale’ald had found a way to develop aircraft. The survivors of the initial attack described a large manned “bird” that flew over the encampment, dropping containers which burst when they hit the ground releasing the killing gas. Hundreds had died in the single attack that was described, and Jolan had the sinking feeling that this was one of many such attacks that must be taking place.

“
I’ve seen pictures of the aircraft from your world,” Wylan said. “Is there really a chance they have been able to build such machines here?”

Jolan shook his head. He didn’t see how. The obstacles to be overcome were enormous. Just creating motors and developing the capability to refine the petroleum into aviation fuel would be daunting. It didn’t fit with what he knew of Ale’ald’s industrial state. There was no way the machines could have been brought from Earth and assembled here. Cheurt had always been limited in how much he could bring, and he knew that Ryltas had been the primary contact on Earth. Had they found another way to get material between the worlds? He didn’t believe it.

Knowing he was only guessing, Jolan realized they needed information.

“
I’m going there,” he said suddenly, meaning the battlefield.

“
No need,” Wylan said. “I’ve sent men to take pictures of the machine. We should go and tell Vaen.” He knew that Jolan would be safe enough from the gas with his personal shields. Many men had been saved by the mages on site who had been able to create a widespread but weak shield around the men when they realized what was happening. It had been too late for many however.

As they spoke, another of the aides came hurrying in. He handed Wylan more sheets of paper.

“
More reports. There have been similar attacks along the river. We have reports of at least five other locations. There are also men crossing the river. Hundreds of small craft, each carrying twenty or more men have been sighted.”

* * * *

Wizard-Pilot Acher scanned the ground below him as he flew well above the height where a mage on the ground could hope to attack him. He could see the men below scatter as he flew above them. Word was getting out how dangerous the flying objects were, especially in this region where several attacks had already been made. This was his second trip across the river today. He was both exhilarated and frightened as he flew high above the troops on the ground below. The machine which he piloted was nothing like the amazing planes they had been shown in the moving pictures during their initial selection. Those were made of metal and flew at speeds and altitudes that were frightening to consider. This trip he flew a bit higher than he had the last time he’d flown over the enemy. Flying even higher was possible, but he’d found dropping the canisters where he wanted became very much more difficult as he climbed to higher altitudes and he prided himself on his precision. He didn’t know how effective the rifles would be at an altitude of a bit more than three thousand feet, but the last trip over the enemy had fired at him. He’d detected a couple of hits against the shield he maintained as he flew. The shield protected critical parts of the plane and, of course, himself. He was fortunate in that the shots fired had been the standard projectiles, and not the shield penetrating variety the enemy seemed to have in abundance. He wasn’t taking any chances someone might have the kind that could reach him through his shield, and added the extra altitude. It used a bit of his reserve, but he wasn’t taxing the machine’s capability this trip and this was as important as any other contingency in his mind.

It was time to make his turn, and he carefully pressed on the foot control and moved the stick between his legs to change the plane’s attitude, dipping his left wing and gradually coming around. He could see the target camp ahead, and pressed the release for the first of the two bombs he carried. He felt it drop away as he continued the wide turn, and then straightened and headed back towards the river. He’d drop the second bomb closer to the shore, and then continue back across the water to land where he’d taken off almost thirty minutes ago. It would be the last trip of the day. There were no more of the massive batteries waiting charged and ready that would need to be replaced before another flight would be possible. It would take most of the night for the support crew to charge the many batteries so the ten aircraft could all fly once again.

The plane he flew was more of a glider than a true airplane. It had a very long wingspan, and was built of the lightest possible materials. The design of the aircraft had been taken from that other world. It was built of a magically enhanced hollow tubed structure over which stretched a very strong cloth that had also been magically enhanced. The single propeller that rose up behind him was driven by the crude and heavy lead acid battery packs that were located in the leading edges of the wings on either side near where they joined the main structure. The cells were combined to produce a battery with over two hundred volts. The plane could carry a single pilot and a small payload. The two canisters of the poison gas completed the load carrying abilities of the craft.

The manufacturing expertise of captured Kimlelm and the wizardry skill of Ale’ald had both been required to create this miracle. While he didn’t know the details, he was riding on an airframe that was designed for a maximum weight at liftoff of 1450 pounds. Of that weight, 170 pounds were lead acid batteries, and 150 pounds were the gas canisters. Two hundred pounds had been allocated for the pilot, and the rest was all glider. To get this vehicle into the air required a boost that it was incapable of delivering itself. A large solid assist motor with it’s own wheels and packed with almost five hundred pounds of propellant, a carefully blended mix of sugar and potassium nitrate in this case, was attached to the center of gravity of the plane. The plane rode on top of the rolling motor.

When it was time to launch the plane, the solid motor was ignited by a single switch on the control panel, and the plane would begin its very short trip down the runway. Once the plane accelerated to 70 mph, the pilot would pull back on the stick taking to the air, and pointing the nose sharply upward at thirty-four degrees and ride the motor until it burned out fifty-two seconds after it had been ignited. That short burn launched the plane and pushed it to five thousand feet of altitude. All that was left was to jettison the empty motor case and allow the plane to settle at its normal cruising speed of sixty mph. The lead acid batteries provided the 3.2 kilowatts of power required for level flight for a range of forty-six miles. The five thousand feet of altitude could also be traded for distance, roughly ten miles for each thousand feet, giving almost one hundred miles from take off to landing if one was foolish enough to challenge the odds.

Only wizards could be pilots. That was one of Cheurt’s rules. For one thing, the piloting skills that had been passed to each of them from some unspecified individual were easier to give to a wizard. Cheurt also didn’t believe such knowledge should be shared with a commoner. In addition, a wizard had the ability to create a shield, which could help protect the plane while in flight.

Acher usually limited himself to an altitude of four thousand feet, holding a bit of the battery in reserve against unexpected needs somewhere along the flight. He let altitude bleed away in exchange for distance until he reached the lower altitude he preferred. Once he had reached the four thousand foot target, he started the propeller and allowed the plane to continue on holding that setting until he approached the target area, where he once again had let the altitude drop putting him closer to the ground.

After he made the second drop he changed heading and returned across the river. Now that he was safely out of range of the men on the ground, he started to shed altitude once again saving charge on the battery. Whatever didn’t need to be replaced would speed the turnaround time on each battery set. He could see the boats crossing the river below him as he crossed back to the Kimlelm side. The boats were another miracle. They were made of some kind of material that could hold air. Without the air they were flat and could be rolled or folded into relatively small packages and stored away until needed. Since these were very large versions of the craft, carrying thirty men or an equivalent in supplies, transporting one of the craft even deflated required a dedicated wagon. They had been stored in warehouses back from the river where they wouldn’t be found. Starting the previous night, they had been brought to the river, where teams of wizards used magic to rapidly inflate the craft. Now hundreds of them were making their way across the river, carrying the forces and supplies that would be necessary to hold the ground until a more permanent means of crossing the river could be erected.

Most of the boats were powered by men with oars, ten on a side paddling fiercely as the boat traveled down river with the current. A few had battery powered motors to help with the propulsion, mostly those boats that carried more supplies than men. They had launched well upriver of where they hoped to land, so while the river swept them along as they made the crossing, it was actually carrying them toward their destination. By the time they arrived the gas would have dissipated, and it would be safe to be in the area once again. Acher was proud to be part of a team that was so ingenious and which would clearly come out the winner. The forces of Ale’ald’s enemy had been resourceful, but he knew they had nothing to counter the miracles Ale’ald had gathered together to win this war.

* * * *

It didn’t all go Ale’ald’s way. Some of the boats landed in areas where the hidden, dung impregnated stakes had been placed. When the first boats landed and the men charged out onto the grasses around the river, eager to engage the enemy, many ran into the hidden shafts, impaling themselves on the sharpened and fouled wood. As the sharpened shafts penetrated thighs and calves, and even the occasional abdomen, the soldiers fell screaming to the ground. It didn’t take long to find the cause of the wounds, but by then several hundred men at various landing sites had been stabbed by the poisonous stakes, virtually all of whom would die within a few days. As a result of the discovery, the attacking forces moved far more slowly than planned as they moved out to secure the territory the planes had won for them.