Princess Rescue Inc (37 page)

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Authors: Chris Hechtl

BOOK: Princess Rescue Inc
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Rojer
rubbed his goatee covered jaw as he stared out into the night view beyond his
window. Indeed something had to be done, his plan of pulling his brother down,
stepping into his place and rallying his people to victory to cement his rule
was in danger of being undone.

Muchinson
was a hot head, preferring to act without thinking. He was a semi-useful tool
that if not carefully handled could quickly outlive his usefulness. And like
all semi-useful tools he could easily cut the user. Rojer didn't really blame
the Baron, he was who he was. He knew he would blame himself if he was
inadvertently cut. Right after he mourned the poor sap's death of course.

 Rojer
of course was more cautious, wanting to feel out the situation. Still the need
to act, to stimulate something to get a response he could study was appealing.

“There
is little we can do,” the Duke said, smiling politely. Telling Muchinson there
was little they could do was precisely something the Baron didn't want to hear
of course.

“These
gaijin are taking over!” the baron grumbled, kicking at the carpet. The Duke
winced. “I need to do something not just stand idly by...”

“My
dear baron to do otherwise is to invite your own destruction now. Their
majesties have decreed the gaijin sacrosanct. None may touch them and live.”

“There
has to be a way,” Muchinson growled.

“Indirect
methods are the only ones possible. But I caution you to have more patience. We
must watch and be ready,” Rojer counseled. He manipulated the Baron expertly
into feeling upset and resentful over the gaijin upstarts and what they were
doing to their society. “That should properly stir the pot for a while,” he
murmured to Selena when the baron departed. She smiled to him and nodded.

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

Art’ur
snarled as he stared at the runner. He handed the message roll to Uuôden. “So,
Andreas is gravely ill. But not by our hand.”

“The
capital spies reported in my liege?” Uuôden asked, stroking his beard.

“Indeed,
finally. I received word a moment ago,” the young King growled in disgust.
“Andreas's collapse couldn't have come at a better time. It will certainly
divide the court. With his son and heir dead it will be a free for all,” he
grinned savagely. “It seems Thorvald's actions were fortuitous after all,” he
growled.

He
didn't like the other news though. He scowled blackly at his armor hanging
nearby. Uuôden scanned the text and then frowned. “Gaijin? With strange weapons
and magic carts?” he looked up to his King in confusion.

“I
believe it explains the strange reports we've heard,” Art’ur said, waving a
dismissive hand. His right hand curled into a ball before rubbing at his chin.
The gaijin were a new problem.

“Can
they truly be of concern?” Baron Fargut asked, taking the roll from the general
to look it over. It was cursedly bereft of vital information. Just bare facts,
laid out in a few short sentences. He read it out loud and then tossed the
paper aside onto a nearby table. It skittered across the surface, curling
around itself before falling to the carpeted floor. The King had had time to
take his pick of the loot his people were gathering. Smaller castles in the
area had already fallen.

“Right
now they are a treasure we can bargain for,” Viscount Wesdt said, taking his
helmet off as he brushed aside the entrance flaps as he entered. He saluted his
liege with a fist over his chest. “I have heard rumors of gaijin traveling the
land between here and the capital of the Imperium my liege.”

“And
you didn't report it earlier?” the King asked, suddenly furious.

Uuôden
glared at the viscount. Wedst was a capable field commander but knew not when
to hold his tongue, or so he thought. “It was rumor only my Dominus. Strange
tales of carts that moved with no animals to pull them. A wives tales told to
intrigue others, or so I thought until this confirmed it,” he said indicating
the report.

“They
promise wonder weapons,” the general said. “Yet it mentions no details. Could
they be promising these to quell unrest?” he asked.

“Possibly
but I doubt it. Gaijin are dangerous. They are valued for their knowledge and
bloodlines,” the baron replied. “I suggest your majesty order the spies to dig
further,” he said. He wasn't happy about their army being pinned down in this
bloody siege. So far the Duke of Emroy had been wily, a capable man who had
husbanded his resources to protect the town and keep.

The
main army was pinned, surrounding the duchy with their weight. Small cohorts
had gone out to raid nearby villages and towns but now his men were having to
go further and further afield to find provisions since the area was now
deserted, the fields laid barren and empty. Soon weeds would be springing up.
The water was becoming fouled by the wastes from the army as well. If they were
not careful the phoenix plant would take root near and spread like wildfire.
Should that happen and the field catch fire...

“The
spies are in the town, not the keep,” Uuôden sighed. “The one servant in the
keep his majesty had carefully placed died in the winter from a bad fall.”

“Wonder
weapons,” the King finally scoffed, shaking his head. “Fairy tales, nothing
more. Stuff and nonsense. A sharp sword and stout men before you is all you
need.”

“It
is to be expected that the Imperium would lunge for the new and untried my
Dominus. But we must ever be wary,” Uuôden cautioned. He for one was wary of
something these gaijin could come up with. Something using the phoenix plant
could wreak havoc with his men and animals.

“Order
the spies to set fire to what they can to delay the Imperium's preparations.
Foul their water and food. Sabotage. And get me the plans for these wonder
weapons. We shall see what they intend and prepare counter weapons,” the King
ordered.

“Yes
my Dominus,” Uuôden nodded.

When
he was finished passing on orders the King ordered the nobles out and then ordered
a slave in. The ten year old girl was escorted in by his handpicked royal guard
bound, pushed over to fall at the feet of her new sovereign. She squirmed on
the ground, kicking to try to get to her knees and sobbing. He had ordered her
up from a distant village; she was so far untouched by other hands. It was time
to rectify that, he thought, needing the distraction to relax. “Kneel before me
slave,” he murmured undoing his belt. Her fingers wiggled uselessly. She was
dressed in a ragged dress, better than a peasant's dress but not a ladies
proper outfit. A bar wench perhaps? He thought and then dismissed the idle
interest as unworthy of him. It didn't matter anyway; she wouldn't live long
unless she greatly pleased him. “I have need of your talented tongue,” he
smirked at her, grin widening as she whimpered at his feet.

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

“War
is the mother of all invention,” Ryans muttered. He and Perry were having a bit
of a get together, trying to figure out how to beat modern technology and
concepts into medieval minds. Apparently it wasn't going well for either of
them.

Perry
pointed out that they were trying to reprogram a medieval society with modern
equipment when they didn't have the mental flexibility for it. He pointed out
the Magna Carta, industrial revolution, etc.  “Each of these things came
but their influence took time to seep into the minds of the people. We're
throwing way too much at them all at once.” He'd recently run into hellacious
resistance from the growing officer corps.

Ryans
nodded. “I agree, but the only other choice is to run and hide.” He pointed to
the mountains in the distance. “You and I both know that's not an option.”
Neither man wanted to go up against the alien animals in the mountains again.

Perry
reluctantly agreed. “I guess misery loves company.”

Ryans
chuckled. “More likely many hands make light work.” He waved to the town. “Did
you get the uniform situation sorted out?”

Perry's
face soured. “Yes and no. We've got a basic uniform worked out; the textile
mills are working on it now. Max's changes there have made some impact but it's
too soon to tell. Just having everyone in one uniform is a tough sell for some.
The boots are a problem though, they've got rubber but the whole vulcanization
thing is apparently new. And getting the cobblers to move to an industrial
format is... not working.” He rubbed his brow. A lot of the artisans were
entrenched in their ways, having known no other way. They were quite frankly
scared of change.

“All
right, I'll go over it with the... ah hell, I'll find someone. I've got the TOE
of the court in my files. I'll bet there's some minister or lord I can go to,”
Ryans sighed. He avoided talking with the royals as much as possible. Duke
Rojer had hit him up a few times but so far he'd declined due to other pressing
concerns.

Perry
smiled sourly. “Fun isn't it?”

Ryans
rolled his eyes. “Don't get me started,” he sighed. He shook his head and then
looked out the window. After a moment he continued.

“So
for each man's kit we've got a change of clothes, food for two days, canteen...
wait,” he frowned. “Since it's almost summer make that two canteens,” he said
He made a note as both military men nodded. “Cleaning gear, Hygiene kit,
bedroll, chain mail armor, helmet, folding shovel, first aid kit, and a
sheathed dagger... What about ranged weapons?” Ryans asked looking up from the
list.

“So,
we've got what? Slings, long bows, cross bows, and even Sun Tzu Chinese machine
gun bows for ranged weapons?” Perry asked. He wrinkled his nose at the thought
of such antiquated tech. The fact that the Imperium had just reinvented the
cross bow a century ago wasn't lost on him. Under the Terran guidance the
Imperium army was focusing on ranged weapons over melee weapons. They wanted to
tear the enemy up from afar and beat them in a battle of maneuver, wearing them
down. There would be hell to pay if the enemy ever managed to close with them
though.

“Don't
forget  boomerangs, spears and a few other toys,” the Sergeant deadpanned.
He'd seen all of them tested out. He wasn't impressed with the boomerangs but
some of the spears weren't too shabby. “That is if we can't get muskets and
rifles out.”

“Not
helping,” Ryans sighed.

“Sorry,”
Waters said with a tired smirk.

“According
to the chemists we should have some more black powder to test tomorrow. Enough
for a hundred shots. If it works we'll put it together with the first musket
and give it a shot,” Perry smiled. He was still at odds with Maximus on the
design of the uniform. He'd lobbied for a simple Terran style approach,
camouflage pants, shirt, and jacket. Unfortunately Maximus had buttonholed the
general and King and these three great masters of war had insisted some
traditions just had to be kept no matter what. Which was why each Decurion was
going out with a roman leather skirt, two shirts, a chain mail shirt, shin
guards, and a cape. Heaven help these kids if they got bogged down in muddy
terrain.

“Cute,”
Ryans said chuckling.

“Huh?
Oh,” Perry replied laughing.

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

Their
second week in the capital Ryans and Perry were directed to a pair of
innovators in town. These two were the cream of the crop apparently, beyond the
artisans Max had met. They were so valuable that others made appointments and
came to them, even their lieges. They went to the giant warehouse feeling
amusement. Inside they blinked at the various mechanical wonders all over the
room. The entire building was covered in various contraptions and models of
contraptions. Even the ceiling was covered with hanging contraptions made of
the local bamboo or paper or other cellulose products. Many were reminiscent of
Leonardo da Vinci. Parchment drawings were tacked up everywhere, sometimes ten
or twenty pages thick.

“Can
I help you gentlemen?” a woman asked. She was wearing a simple green dress with
a leather apron over it. She wiped her hands on a rag.

“Working
on a project?” Perry asked.

“You
are a soldier?” she asked. “Perhaps an officer?” she asked, studying him.
“Strange dress... a gaijin?” she suddenly asked, eyes intent. Perry nodded,
smiling politely. Her eyes lit. “Come, come!” she waved them forward excitedly.

She
showed them to a side room where she and her husband were working on a suit of
articulated, gilded armor. There were multiple sets, two pairs for humans, and
one giant armor plated behemoth. The creature looked alive, but after a moment
of study they realized it was a statue.

“Nice,”
Ryans murmured in appreciation and nodded. He took in the glittering
overlapping plate armor. It was flexible, able to articulate and move. It was
precision work, even the fingers had coverings. Chain mail covered the
vulnerable joints of the animal. “I'd hate to have to run into one of these on
the battlefield.” He smiled and bobbed a bow to the proprietress.

She
was all smiles. An older man was hammering at something in the back. She called
him out. He grumbled but came out wiping his hands. When he saw the visitors
his eyes widened in delight.

“Out
worlders!” he exclaimed in awe. “I heard you were here. Remember Anna? Mistress
Thorn told us only this morrow!” he turned to his wife.

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