StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Chapter Four: The Haunted Coast

The Birds stopped chirping, Monkey whistled and pawed at the ground, Sherman my Dogzard started to bark, and the impossibly tall monster burst out from behind the shrubbery, knocking me off of Monkey. I heard a series of growls, one from the Werewolf now standing over me, one from Sherman, and one from Andre, Godfrey’s dogzard.

The beast had to have been over 9 ft tall, froth dripping from it’s mouth. To be honest, up until then I still suspected that Godfrey’s explanation of the beast from his coat of arms was a joke, even when he offered to take me on a hunt that was being organized. Even if it wasn’t a joke, there was no reason for me to think it was anything more than superstition. So the thoughts going through my head at the moment were not Oh God I’m going to die, but rather Oh God I feel stupid. The thought was cut short when a bolt from Fisher’s crossbow entered the left side of the creature. With a roar it turned and jumped at Fisher, who was still on his Taun. I swung Yellow Rose at the beast, connected at it’s shins, and it spectacularly fell.

Godfrey hopped off his Taun, and brought his sword through the beast’s chest. It was now withering on the ground, and Godfrey prepared to bring his swords down for decapitation.

“Stop!”

Godfrey paused, and looked at Valdemar curiously.

“Why?”

“It is a new animal, the University will want to study it!”

Godfrey, the other Templar nobles and their attendants now looked at Valdemar as if he were quite mad.

“Scholar Valdemar, it will die shortly anyway, its spine damaged as it is. Even if it safely bound, I would not allow the man inside suffer the curse so.”

“The curse? Mr. Périgord, don’t be so silly. It’s a new animal to study, not a ‘cursed’ person.”

The Templar nobles now looked at Valdemar with scorn. One of them, Baron Something-or-other, spoke to Périgord, telling him to kill it now. Périgord nodded and cut the head off the creature.

The head rolled away and Valdemar glared at Godfrey. “Well, at least allow me to take the body back for study.”

“I think not, Scholar Valdemar.”

“Why not?”

I was starting to get rather angry with Valdemar’s disrespect for our hosts, and both Corporals Fisher and Giscard were giving him the “shut the fuck up” looks.

“Humor me, Scholar Valdemar, and wait,” Godfrey pulled out his timepiece, different from the one I gave him so long ago “5 minutes.”

About four minutes in the headless body started to move around. Godfrey and Wiglaf kneeled down and…and…

Started to peel away flesh and skin. Valdemar dismounted and approached, his curiosity getting the better of him. Soon, the entire party was crowded around it. Unbelievable. Inside this massive body there was an entire human being. A man with gray, wrinkled skin and a chest wound where Godfrey’s sword had entered was visible. He rasped and looked directly at Godfrey.

Thank God, the Hell is over. He said in the Antioch dialect. Then the light in his eyes dimmed and he was dead.

----------

“So, it really was a Werewolf?” RedImperator asked.

We were back at the Embassy in Antioch, in the balcony adjoining the main sitting room. It gave a stunning view of the Harbor, and Chateau Coucy across the Saar River to the South. The Great Temple, a combination Castle/Royal Palace was off to the Northwest. Unfortunately, the view of the Meuse and Kolossi Castle was poor.

“Oh, it most certainly was. I examined the flesh and human body…I don’t see how they would have been able to fake it.” Valdemar sounded disappointed. “I’d give my left nut for a modern Biology lab.”

“Would have killed me dead if Corporal Fisher hadn’t shot straight and true.” I said. The SOG, Sergeant Major W. Pilot, snorted.

“Certainly the first time he’s ever done so. You ever see him at the range?”

“Well, he shot true when it mattered. Good thing too, it would have been an awkward thing to pass on to Alex. ’Sorry ma’am, your husband got eviscerated by a werewolf.’” I glanced at the Grandfather clock just inside the sitting room. “Speaking of which, I still need to buy her something.”
“Go ahead Lonestar. We don’t have anything planned for the day.” Pilot said.

“Thank you Sar-major.” I came to attention and left. Exiting the embassy, I went past Corporal Fisher who was in the guard shack berating a PFC. Sherman trotted happily next to me.

Antioch, in those days, was a jewel. Sitting on a peninsula between the Saar and Meuse, two stout walls protected the city. Across the Saar and the Meuse sat Chateau Coucy and Kolossi Castle, respectively. In the years to come we would become intimately familiar with those great fortresses. Within the city, the Great Temple dominated. It had to have been the largest and tallest structure on Terra. I wandered over to the market, finding a upper-class metal smith shop(and doing my best to ignore the auctioneers selling Saxon slaves). Behind the counter was an elderly man who was engraving something. His shop was filled with elaborate plates, utensils, jewelry, and other works.

“Ah? An Avalonian?” He said in the Antioch dialect.

“I am.” I responded in the same. It was poor, but useable. “I am looking for a gift to bring back to my wife.”

“Ah! Well, allow me to show you my Jewelry. It would be simpler if she were here, so I could properly fit it..”

“Not to worry.”

He brought over two large boxes, setting them on the corner. He opened to two, and I looked at his wares. I picked out an ornate pendant with a sapphire set in it. After a brief haggle, I got a price better than I would have in Veneto…I wondered if it was because I was from Avalon. On a whim, I asked to see if he had any simple rings that were meant for men available. He nodded, and took out a smaller box. Like most rings on Terra, they were gaudy and bejeweled. A few stood out for their plainness. My eyes passed over one, then shot back.

“That’s an interesting design…” I said. “Did you make that one?”

“This? No, my Uncle did. It’s been sitting there for quite awhile.” He laughed nervously.

“I see…where did he get the design from?” I knew full well he didn’t make it up. It was too elaborately detailed to be a coincidence.

“I believe he took it of a vase I now own. It’s a Family heirloom.”

“May I….see this vase?”

He paused, looked at me oddly, then nodded. He walked out of the front and upstairs. After about 5 minutes he came slowly down the stairs holding it gingerly. I fixed on the imagery. The vase looked old and worn. I didn’t understand the writing but I recognized the figures in the decoration instantly.

They were Greek Hoplites.

------


“Crown is going to crap himself when he finds out.” Red Imperator said.

“Think he can crap out 3 Gold Sovereigns too? Because once that con man realized how interested I was in it he set out to rob me.” I snarled.

We were standing around the vase, which was now on the table in the sitting room. Myself, RI, Sergeant Major Pilot, and Corporal Giscard, who didn’t know what the big deal was.

“I’m sure we can reimburse you. Where did his family get it?”

“Said his Grandfather got it ‘on the Haunted Coast’, which is located even farther North.”

“Why’s it called the Haunted Coast?”

“Because it’s Haunted.” Red glared at me and I amended ”Seriously, Mr. Ambassador, that’s what they think Godfrey once told me that no one went North of the Styx River…”

“The what river?”

“The…oh, shit.” I said, realizing why Red was startled by the name.

“Oh shit is right. I want you to carry your ass over to Kolossi Castle and get details. I’m going to send a carrier pigeon to Languedoc. The Embassy there will send one on to Avalon. We need to figure this out and quick.”

“You better move at the speed of heat, Lonestar” Pilot said. “It’s getting dark.”

----

“The Haunted Coast? It’s Haunted.” Godfrey said. I rolled my eyes. “I am not joking. Once, in youth, before I got married..” his voice cracked for a second, I knew his wife had died in childbirth. Wiglaf once told me he had attempted suicide after that, but an attendant found him in time and cut him from the noose he had made, “ I was part of an expedition to explore and conquer in the name of the King. We crossed the Styx and traveled North for over a week, the entire time watched by creatures at the edge of the forest during the day. Twice we were attacked bloodily at night. After the second attack, it was decided to retreat at best speed. There was a inquiry, Patriarch Joseph VII accused Knight-Captain Eduardo of cowardice, but there was not a single member of the company that didn’t agree a exit was in order. Why the sudden interest?”

I explained the vase, and how it had Greek imagery on it. He blinked his eyes.

“Who are the Greeks?”

So that took some more explaining, and finally he was nodding in understanding.

“Ah-hah, and you think there are more cities to the North?”

“Yes. I don’t think there are people there though.”

“Why not?”

“The Greeks were a Maritime and merchant people. We would have all heard of them by now. The creatures that attacked…what did they look like?”

“Often, we were being tracked by werewolves of a breed unknown to us. On the first attack we beat them, but not as handily as we would have their cousins here. The second attack…” His voice trailed off for a second. “The trees came to life, and vines whipped out slashing the men. In the forest was a figure like a scarecrow, with flame coming from his mouth, eyes, and under his clothing. After that…”

I frowned. Once, I would have dismissed out of hand the story. But between the transporting across time and space, Morlocks, and werewolves it wasn’t as easy as it had once been.

“Okay…thank you for your candor Godfrey. You ought to know, the odds are that we will be forming an expedition of our own once word reaches Avalon. If there are Greek remains to the North, we will bring some of our experts along.”

“This expedition will include…you?”

“Probably. I already have my Lance here in Antioch, as you know. Likely the Rest of Knife’s company will be ordered to serve as escort…with the permission of His Royal Highness, of course.”

“I do not foresee that to be a problem. No doubt members of the court will be eager to see a company of the Avalonian Watch wiped out.”

“Hmm, we’ll see. I suspect The Duchess will be accompanying us, she’s something of a subject matter expert.”

“The Duchess?” Godfrey sat up. His attempts to woo her in the past year had been more than a little humorous. “Well, I can hardly allow you, my good friend, go into danger by himself. I shall come with, bringing 20 men.”

------


Amazingly, the expedition was organized and set out from Antioch in less than a month. Prince Robert, 2nd in line to the throne and leader of the Court Conservatives saw us off with barely contained glee. We traveled over a hundred kilometers North, a quiet journey through fields manned by Saxon Serfs and little else. The entertainment was Godrey’s repeated failed attempts to “hit on” (to use the 21st Earth term) on Marina. Marina had started out being less than amused, and by now was ready to cut off his balls and feed them to the sea turtles. After one such failed attempt he slowed down to ride alongside me.

“Strategic retreat?” I said with a grin.

“A minor setback, nothing more.” Godfrey responded. “You said she was never married?”

“Not to my knowledge, no.”

“Hmm…why? Is she religious?”

I snorted. “I suppose you could say she has some strongly held beliefs.”

Godfrey scratched his chin. I sighed.

“Look, I can’t give you advice on how to court her. I don’t see how you’ll suceed where so many have failed. But if you want to impress her just ’talk shop’ with her.”

“’Talk shop’?”

“Right. How to fight battles, war stories, weapons, that sort of thing. It’s what she’s interested in.”

“She was a solider in your time?”

“No. But she probably knows more about war making with the resources we have at hand than the professionals, hence her rank” Her knowing how to make firearms and warships more advanced than the locals doesn‘t hurt either. I didn’t add.

“Hmmm…” He said again. “The young woman with her, is she her daughter?”

“Pick? No. Though she was kind of ‘adopted’ by her after the Transition.”

“Why was she not adopted by a family?”

“Ehhh…“ How best to say this? Better go with the brief, terse answer. No matter how ‘open minded‘ Godfrey was, he was still a product of Antioch‘s culture, and if he hadn‘t figured out why Marina had no interest in him by now, I sure as Hell wasn‘t going to explain it. “Pick was going through some issues which Marina had an understanding of. Not only that, back before the Transition Marina was something of a Patron of her art, I suppose.”

“Are they lovers?”

I had been bringing my wineskin up for a drink and nearly dropped it. “Christ, what made you think that?”

“Matthew,” He said with a knowing smile, “I am not stupid. I have seen some of the customs of your city. To me it is not that big of a reach that wickedness is tolerated. Combine that with the no-marriage or relationship at her age, interests in the realm of men…”

“Well, to answer the question, no they aren’t. Like I said, more like family…or sisters, I guess. Taking the epiphany well though.”

“Indeed. It is very clear to me now. She has simply not met the right man!” He reared back his Taun and headed back to the front of the column. Wiglaf trotted by, giving me a here-we-go-again look. I hoped there wouldn’t be bloodshed.

Fortunately, the point guard had reported to find that Styx river was less than a few kilometers ahead. The name “Styx” was fitting indeed. The water was almost pitch black, and icy cold. The North bank was choked with fog. Godfrey found the ford and with that the expedition was well and truly underway.

Though the Duchess was the ranking officer, Knife maintained operational control(minus the Templar contingent). We trekked along, remaining in single group whenever possible and no more than a kilometer or two from the coast. It was always cold, rainy, and foggy. We followed game trails, but there was almost no game to be had. Our mounts and Dogzards were perpetually skittish. And Godfrey’s claim of being watched was correct; not since the early encountered with the Morlocks had I felt so unnerved.

On the third night out, we were attacked by the werewolf breed Godfrey had mentioned. Unlike the Riverlands/Antioch variety, this one attacked in a pack. Over a dozen were dispatched before the rest left. Two shed their skins to reveal the creatures underneath, one a human the other a Morlock.

For the next week, we had no troubles with nighttime attacks, though we were certain we were being followed and watched. On the 11th day, during the daylight hours, a troop of medium size ape-like creatures attacked. Their skins were dry (seemingly impossible with the weather we had had), black, and tight. The eyes were sunken and black, which a mane of hair. Like the werewolf attack, we dispatched them with no loss to ourselves.


As we continued North, we traveled parallel to a large swamp the East. At night luminous lights would hover and dance over the water. Occasionally we spotted what appeared to be hairy alligators. By our third week nerves were high, but there had been no might time attacks since that third night.

Then…

“Hey…There’s a man on fire out there!” Schneider yelled. I hopped out of my Bedroll and drew Yellow Rose. I didn’t see any men on fire, but then, I couldn’t see past the group of people looking out at the swamp. Then the Tauns whistled and the Dogzards barked, and the trees whipped out vines. The attack lasted less than a minute, and once again there were no losses. Desperate hacking of swords got rid of most of the vines, and just as suddenly as it had started it stopped.

Schneider related that the man on fire seemed to have flames coming out of his mouth and eyes. This was corroborated by several others. We held an immediate leadership council, where it was decided to press on for another week.

And so, we kept moving.

Two days later we found the city. It was overgrown with vines, and the walls long ago had been destroyed. In fact, we couldn’t find a single structure that hadn’t been destroyed. In the town square was a massive statue that had been brought down. On one of the legs, which was as big as a man, were massive indentations in the shape of a hand. As if someone had just grabbed it and hauled it down.

“Sir, we need to get out of here.” I told Knife. He looked at me, and nodded.

“No doubt. But I don’t think Marina will want to do that until we find the Greek city.”

“Find the Greek city?”

“Godfrey just told me all the writing he’s seen has been in Latin.”

“It’s a Roman city!”

“Seems so….wonder what destroyed it.”

At that moment Julhelm rode up.

“Sir, we found a Roman-style rode on the North side of the city. Heading, uh, North.”

“Tell the Colonel.” Knife ordered.

I re-mounted Monkey and followed Julhelm to Marina, who certainly looked like a Battle-Maiden in her chain mail. Godfrey was staring out at the dark ocean. The remains of a artificial harbor could be seen, barely.

“It feels like someone walked over your grave…” I murmured. He looked at me, then nodded.

“I do not think Men were meant to inhabit this land.”

“Well, the Romans did. And the Greeks, unless we’re very mistaken.” Came Marina’s voice. “I suspect the road Sergeant Julhelm found will take us straight to the Greek settlement. Tell your men to form up and prepare to leave.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to clear it with the Captain…”

“I will speak with Knife. Prepare your men.” And with that she left. I sighed and proceeded to carry out the instructions…I knew Knife would probably acquiesce.

Once more we headed North, this time following the Roman road. We had traveled perhaps 30 Kilometers when the Greek Settlement was in sight. Like the Roman city, not a structure had been left standing.

Except one.

A massive Temple on a rocky peninsula, with tall cliffs stopping the ocean from hitting it. After a brief, frustrating search for something like a name, we headed up to the Temple. Inside was a tall statue of Zeus (or so Crown claimed from the writing.) Behind the sitting statue was a large ramp that led under it. Outside, the drizzle that had been with us since day one was starting to pick up. Thunder was heard. I looked down the ramp.

“What is that, the Gateway to Hell?”

“Let’s find out.” Marina said. She started to walk down, and noticed we were all staying right where we were. “Who’s volunteering?”

Myself, Julhelm, and Brungardt were all looking at her as if she were a special kind of crazy. Pick managed a bland disinterest. Even Godfrey was giving her the thousand yard stare. Finally, Godfrey said in a strained voice “As always, you have my sword Milady.” He sounded like he was struggling against his better judgment. I groaned and volunteered my Lance. I could feel Giscard and Glocksman glaring daggers at the back of my neck. The other two Lances, plus Godfrey’s men, set up camp inside the Temple. Crown and Vympel followed the rest of us down, our lanterns doing a poor job of providing light. As we reached the end of the first (!) ramp we started to hear something loud and violent banging deeper down. I know not how many ramps there were; I was too scared out of my wits. Finally, we came to a passageway. Down to the left the thumping was louder, to the right there appeared to be a large stone door. It looked immovable. Marina looked at all of us, and said “Well, let’s go!” And started heading left.

“Captain, no, this is the part of the movie where the audience yells ’don’t do that you idiot’….”

“I agree. Colonel! Wait!”

She stopped.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Marina there is no reason, none to head on down that passage tonight. We don’t know what’s down there.”

“Well, Captain, that’s a very good reason to head on down there.”

“A better reason would be to let sleeping dogs lie. Marina, as the professional here I highly recommend that we turn around and go home. We found the city, let’s go. We’ve had nothing but trouble this trip.”

“We still need to find out what happened. We can’t have come all this way to just turn around.”

The thumping continued.

“Colonel, I insist that we leave. “

“What’s a matter Captain? Afraid we’ll run into the Minotaur?” She turned and started walking back down the hallway. Knife seemed to consider letting her do just that, then muttered “Damn it.” And followed. So did we.

We followed her down the narrow passageway, no more than two person wide. She came to a sudden stop.

“There’s a room.”

And sure enough, there was. In there middle was a large hole. The “thump” was very loud now, and the room was shaking mightily with each one. I thought right about then would be a good time to turn around and call it a day, before whatever it was realized we were up here…

“Hullo down there!”

…Damn it, Godfrey.

The thumping stopped, and then there was a very. Loud. Shuffling in the hole. Every hair of mine was standing on it’s end. Marina turned to us.

“Tie a lantern to all the rope we have. Hurry!”

We had to have had 60 ft worth of rope. Slowly, the lantern was lowered. Almost all the rope had been extended, and it still hadn’t hit bottom. Large shapes were seen, moving, humanoid ones.

There came a rasping, booming voice in a language I didn’t recognize. Judging from the expressions on Vympel’s and Crown’s faces, it was obvious they did.

“What?”

“He…it said ’Mortals, I had thought the Blight of the Land had punished you for Mocking the Children of Earth and Sky. I had thought I had perhaps gone mad, smelling human flesh once more. I am pleased, soon we will be out and feast again.’”

The thumping resumed, with much greater intensity and speed, with a purpose. One of the shapes shuffled into direct light. It was a monstrous head with a single eye.

Marina dropped the lantern.

“Time to fucking go.”

Now there were more thumps, we could count three distinct ones. The entire Temple was shaking now. We raced into the open Temple floor, with Knife screaming “Mount up! we’re going! Now!” The expedition raced out of the Temple, moving at a Gallop with the Dogzards running with us. My Lance had rear point, and about a kilometer out I heard a loud roar. Looking back, I saw that the Temple had collapsed.

We didn’t slowdown for almost an hour. After that, we march straight through the night. We rarely paused for more than 5 hrs, and we managed to make it back across the Styx River in Two weeks.

It was with great relief that we entered the lands of Antioch. By now we were wondering if perhaps it had been some form of mass hysteria, such was the change. Our march slowed to a leisurely crawl. When we finally reached Antioch we were in high spirits indeed.

“We are almost to Kolossi Castle.” Godfrey said with great satisfaction. “I hope you do not take this the wrong way my friend, but if ever you do this again, I will not join you.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” We past a few serfs and freemen bringing their wares to market. As we exited the North Woods Kolossi Castle was clearly in sight. Flying from it’s highest rampart…

..was a massive Red Flag, with a white cross. A reverse of the Templar Symbol. A look of complete dread appeared on the Godfrey and the faces of his men.

“Oh…oh no.”

“What is it?”

“The King is dead.”


























Chapter five: “….Long live the King.”


We trudged along the road, and instead of breaking off for Kolossi Castle, Godfrey sent Wiglaf and his men-at-arms ahead to inform the staff that they had returned, and expect visitors. After that, he stayed with the expedition. “If the Crown Prince is dead, you may need the protection that my rank can give.” He said.

We rode past Kolossi, and about 500 meters from the Gates of Antioch three riders came out, with the lead in gleaming mail and polished plate shoulder guards. His tabard was light blue, with a silver cross in the middle. The Marshall of Antioch, Roger Capet. I knew him to be one of the backers of Prince Robert, and my stomach gave a flipflop as he rode up. Knife appeared by my side and said:

“You move forward with Godfrey and the Duchess.”

By the time I had caught up Capet was already giving Marina his best sneer.

“Your expedition is unwelcome in the city. They are to vacate the Kingdom immediately. Yourself included.”

“The Colonel and Staff Sergeant Bucher are to be my guests at the Coronation.” Godfrey said. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow.” Capet looked disgusted that Godfrey had managed to make it back in time, and even worse, survive the expedition.

“How did his Highness die?”

“He was poisoned;” Capet’s eyes shifted to mine. “By the Avalonians.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Marina said.

“Believe what you will, witch. Your own Scholar Valdemar administered the poison.”

“So, Crown Prince Charles is to be crowned tomorrow?” Godfrey asked. I had the feeling he was fishing for information.

Capet put his hands together. “Alas, the Crown Prince died in the night, shortly thereafter. The physicians say he lost his breath.”

“That’s about as likely as us intentionally poisoning a friendly Monarch.” Marina said mildly.

“I don’t need one who commits the sin of Sodom to be giving me her theories! You are going to Hell, whore!” Capet spat and Marina’s hand went straight for her sword, and I moved in front of Marina and Godfrey moved in front of Capet.

“Marshall, I’m sure that, as my guests, you’ll allow me to escort them to their embassy?”

Capet looked as if he was about to say “no”, then nodded. “Yes. It won’t be there long anyway. But just the two.”

--------

“Before you ask,” Red Imperator said with just a trace of bitterness “Yes, we did poison him.”

“What?” I said. Even Marina looked stunned. Red held up his hand.

We were in the meeting room, the embassy now deserted. All “non-essential personnel” had been sent out as soon as word of the Kings death had been received. Even the SOG, Wicked Pilot, was gone. He had a wife and three kids, and Red had insisted that he go. Corporal Fisher had been frocked to Sergeant and was acting SOG.

“The king was ill, and Valdemar administered Chloramphenicol to him. The late king was one of the lucky few to have an extremely bad reaction to the drug, and died in a spectacular and painful manner. It was a mistake, and I’m sure the court knows it. But for all intents and purposes, they couldn’t have made up a better propaganda piece.”


“Damn it.” Marina uttered. “Damn Roger Capet. Damn Patriarch Joseph. And Crown Prince Robert Fucking Charles!”

“He’ll be King Robert Charles II tomorrow. The Diplomatic staff has been invited to the coronation.”

“It’s a trap, Red.” I said.

“You think? Hopefully, our lifespan is measured in days, not hours. How was the expedition?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Werewolves. Man-eating trees. Cyclops. Same-old same-old.”

Red chuckled, then looked at the seriousness of both mine and Marina’s faces. “You aren’t kidding? A Cyclops?”

“Three of them, actually.” Marina said. “Sons of Uranus and all that.”

“I see….mind if you tell me the story?”

“The Colonel can; I’m going to bed.” I headed to a guest room, praying I wouldn’t get killed in the night.


Early the next morning, I found Fisher looking at a map of Antioch with great intensity on the table.

“Trying to find a way out of this mess?”

He looked up. “Oh, hi Lonestar. As a matter of fact I was. We have less than 10 guards left, and I think we’re going to need all of them around the Great Temple. The ambassador doesn’t want the Embassy unguarded, but all the ciphers and most of the petty cash has already been destroyed or evacuated.”

“Less than 10 guards? Jesus.”

“7, actually. Plus me. Plus you and the Duchess makes it an even 10 but you‘ll be inside at the ceremony.”

“There will be guards remaining at the Embassy, Sergeant. Remember what I said.” Red said, striding into the room. He looked me over. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Not much else…”

“Well, I suppose we can’t get in any more trouble than we already are. Let’s go, Godfrey is waiting outside.”

The three of us walked out to the gate, where a sentry had our mounts. Marina was already waiting. The gate opened and Godfrey and Wiglaf trotted up. Godfrey looked more bitter than I had ever seen him.

“Let’s go; Patriarch Joseph likes to get his lies in before lunch.”

The trip to the Great Temple was relatively short, and with a sneer the guard allowed us to dismount and have Fisher watch our Tauns (and Wiglaf watch Godfrey’s). We entered the Throne Room, which was large and spacious with a dome that reminded me of pictures I had seen of the Hagia Sophia on Earth. Apparently we were one of the last ones, for the ceremony started soon afterwards.

The ceremony was in, of course, Latin. Very little of which I understood, but Marina and Godfrey listened with rapt attention. Then after the Patriarch put the crown on Robert’s head, proclaiming him Robert Charles the 2nd, Capet shouted out “Long live the King!” And the crowd repeated it.

Godfrey led us towards the back of the crowd and turned to me with a strange smile on his face.

“I have been instructed to hold you here for the Royal guards. You still have a few minutes. Take that passage way, I have made arrangements with the sentries. Goodbye, my friend.”

“Godfrey, wait. If there is war, and my son should be captured, ensure that he is treated correctly.”

Godfrey looked appalled that I would suggest otherwise. “Of course.” He turned to Marina.

“Milady,” He paused. “Milady, I will see you on the field of Battle I hope you don’t take offense, but if I see you on the Plains of Mars, I will do my level best to kill you.”

“Of course Godfrey, and the same.”

Godfrey nodded. “And now, I must ask that you hit me as hard as you can. I must make it look as if you struggled, and I since I’ve sparred with Matthew and know what a weak punch he thro….”

Marina rolled him with a upper-cut that probably sent him five feet.

“Been waiting long for that?” I asked. But she and Red were already walking swiftly to the doorway in question. I kept pace, and we ran into Wiglaf, who was standing by a T-crossing.

“This way, please.” He said, turning left. We followed. Shortly, we were at what would be called in our time “the service entrance.” Fisher and 2 of the Embassy Guards, holding our mounts were waiting. “You got a plan for getting us out of here?” Marina asked.

“You ever hear of the ‘Mogadishu mile’ ma’am?” Fisher responded. I groaned. “I have the rest of the Guard ensuring the North Gate is open. It‘ll add a little less than a kilometer to our trip out of the city, but it won‘t be as well defended.”

“I thought I told you to keep men at the embassy?” Red demanded. By now we were all mounted and “riding casual” out of the Temple complex.

“Decided to be prepared, Mr. Ambassador.”

I grinned. “What is the Boy Scout motto, Alex?”

We actually made it over a kilometer “riding casual” before we heard the clatter of the Town Watch yelling “Arrest them!” We took off at a gallop, Sherman maintaining speed with me. We outpaced them easily, unencumbered with armor as we were. By the time we had reached the North Gate, the other Embassy Guards were already mounted and waiting. We came crashing out of Antioch, heading Southeast, hoping to reach the Terror Wood before Templar forces exiting the South Gate could intercept us. We stormed across fields of purple wheat and barley rice, much to the detriment of the serfs working the land. Crossing one of the innumerable small streams, I glanced directly West. About 20 Templar knights were sure to intercept us…

“Fisher…”

“I see them. Lonestar, Duchess, Red…It’s been an honor. Come men! Ya!” The Guard broke off moved to stop the Templars. There was a great cacophony of noise as the two forces collided. Fisher’s lance was through the chest of the Templar Officer. We hopped across another stream, and the Terror Wood was right in front of us now. I wondered is Fisher had broken off and was following us yet. I looked back. All I saw was him still on his Taun, swinging his Spatha, up to his elbows in Bodies.

We entered the Terror Wood.


------

Of course, the Templars call it something else besides “Terror Wood”. It was a nickname we had given it on our first trip to Antioch. Wasn’t particularly scary, but there was a lot of second-growth trees and shrubbery that obscured vision and noise all the way down to the Rhine. For 7 days we trudged through the vast forest, listening for the inhabitants that gave the forest it’s name. On the 8th day, they struck. Two massive “Terror Birds” that attacked, and were dispatched quickly by myself and Marina. I was making some quip when an arrow whizzed by my ear, striking flesh behind me. I turned, and a third Terror Bird fell over, the arrow in it’s brain. “Show yourself!” I shouted. Seemingly out of nowhere, 30 men appeared.

“No need to get worked up, Avalonian. Your Captain Knife thought you might need some help.” The leader said.

Descended from 19th Century North American trappers, the Citizens of Independence were the unquestioned master trackers/hunters of Terra. It was a good thing they were part of the Alliance.

“And we needed it.” Red said. “You have my Thanks, Mr.…”

“Wallace. Major Wallace. You all can call me Bill.” He put his bow up and extended his hand to Red. Red shook it. Then he went down the line.

“Bill…is that short for William?” I said.

“Course it is!” Bill said with great dignity.

“Good name.” Red said with a smile. “Well, Bill, do you know the way out of this place?”

“Oh, aye. In fact, we have a ferry set up ten miles Southeast of here. The rest of my company is guarding it. We didn’t bring any mounts, too noisy, so it’ll take us awhile.”

Took us two days, in fact. When we arrived at the Ferry his men there were throwing Templar bodies into the Rhine. “They were askin’ too many questions.” Said the Lieutenant, whose name was Ridge. ”’Who are ye? What you doin’ here? You ain’t helping th’ Avalonians, are ye?’”

“Well, then, we better hurry.” Bill said. We dismounted, and I gave Monkey a smack on the ass. He whined and jumped in the river and started swimming. The other two Tauns followed him, and we hopped into one of the canoes they had. We paddled across the river for what seemed like forever, our mounts waiting on the other side, wet and irritated. Bill’s Ranging company was across the river in one crossing, they had brought enough canoes. The nearest friendly city was Independence, which proved to be a week’s journey at a casual pace.

I always liked Independence. It’s Georgian Architecture reminded my of a place back home called Williamsburg, even if it was about 6 degrees more shabby. Of the Riverlands towns, Independence was by far the smallest, not much bigger than Avalon. They were not formally part of the Alliance at the time(One of the things they had brought with them was a disdain for “entangling alliances”) but if war came there was no real doubt whose side they would take. President Fremont (his actual title was “Presiding Officer of the Assembly”) was waiting for us, as was the Chief of Mission, Alyeska.

“Mr. President.” Red said, nodding his head.

“Tell us everything;” Alyeska said.

“A little public, is it not?”

“Indeed.” Fremont said. “To the Executive Mansion.”

-------

After spending entirely too long explaining what happened in Independence, we continued East, where we learned that Malcolm Quinn had been elected Lord Mayor. After repeating the events to him, he came to the conclusion that it was our fault somehow.

(Obviously)

By the time we had reached Avalon, we had repeated the story so much that I was beginning to get very disgruntled with anyone who pestered us for it. That we were expected it to tell it once more, in front of the entire Avalonian Assembly. The council would have been bad enough, but everyone wanted to get their stupid questions in. Finally the Assembly was adjourned and only the Council and senior military leaders remained. As did Joe and Andreas.


“So now the question is,” Sir Nitram said, “What do we do?”

Colonel Jegs was jolted by the statement. “Do? Sir Nitram, I would have thought that obvious. We prepare for war. Immediately. And we arm ourselves with weapons that we know will give us an undefeatable advantage.”

“Colonel, we already went over this. We don’t have the resources to divert for the weapons you’re asking. Most of our explosive powder,” Durandal nodded at Joe and Andreas “Is going towards mining operations. Most of our seasoned wood is going towards the Indiamen needed to transport goods to and from California port. What metal we can extract locally has other uses here.”

“Forgive me Councilman Durandal,” Stravo “I fail to see how we can’t take some precautions. I’ve seen the resource inventories, and while I agree that it’s an impossibility to start arming everyone with firearms, it isn’t so bad that we can’t make some preparations. “

“Like what, if I may ask?”

“Cannon. Cannon for our field artillery. Cannon to turn our Indiamen into warships with which to wreck the Templar galleys.” Marina said sharply.

“You already have artillery. Congreve and Hale rockets. You already have cannon. Two of them, you got built over the objections of some of this council, I might add.”

“Two mortars are not a field artillery battery! You know as well as I do that they were intended more as a feasibility test than an actual pair of weapons. We must prepare, or shall suffer all the more for it.”

Durandal was silent. I wondered it he was remembering that day before the Battle, so long ago…

-----

“Five Thousand strong,” Knife continued. “What did you expect me to do against five thousand?” Knife demanded of him.

There was a look of complete terror on Durandal’s face as he said, “More than the morning. Now there is nothing between them and us!” He practically yelled.

“You,” He bellowed losing control of his anger, “still had a majority of your men and you retreated. RETREATED ! And gave the enemy the pass and the Eastern Approach!”

“I lost fifteen Watchmen out there, ten more wounded, you ingrate. If I had stayed out there any longer, I would have lost all one hundred.” Knife said in a cold, deadly voice.

“The Eastern Approach was never fortified to repel such an attack, Councilman. And if I recall correctly, I DID request that it should be. If I recall correctly, YOU said NO!” Knife yelled and had to be restrained by Wilkens. I was standing between him and Durandal…

---------

Durandal took a deep breath.

“No, I’m sorry. I will not support these measures. Not without a clear indication that Antioch plans to invade.”

The door to the council chambers opened, and Nadja, the Lance Corporal who had once told us that we found other people was there. The Battle had been hard on her, and she left the Watch shortly thereafter. Now she worked as a watch officer in the Foreign Ministry. Wordlessly, she walked up to the table and handed a document that looked as if it came from a messenger pigeon to Sir Nitram.”

“Thank you Ms. Cascade.” Nitram said. He read the message, then sighed.

“Well Durandal, I think you got your clear indication.”

“Lübeck has just been sacked.”

One of those chapters, I was completely plastered when I wrote it. Guess which one?

Pretty fucking good, dude. Fisher took it like a man, as did Godfrey from Marina. She'll like the cannon part.

Looking good.

I'm really liking this, although I must admit your tendancy to jump around is a bit disconcerting. Still, the story didn't suffer for it. Keep up the quality work.

Noble Ire wrote:I'm really liking this, although I must admit your tendancy to jump around is a bit disconcerting. Still, the story didn't suffer for it. Keep up the quality work.

The intent is to spread this out over the course of several years. People are going to be pissed when they see that the next chapter starts two years after the last.

So it's Antioch and presumably Veneto against Avalon, Independence, and Languedoc? Fun fun.

I say bravo. I have no problem with a 2 year jump. You've done the necessary backstory. On to the main event. BTW, am I some kind of 'pathfinder' a la Gandalf? You've, IMO, kind of given me the feel.

I like the way you've expanded on Avalon and the characters, though. Red, Fisher (may he rest in peace amongst the mounds of the first ones) and etc.

Darth Yoshi wrote:So it's Antioch and presumably Veneto against Avalon, Independence, and Languedoc? Fun fun.

Let's just say that Antioch's lack of experience in fighting "civilized" settlements (ie anything with a wall) is going to bite them in the ass. Hard.

Nice. Very nice.

Edit: Hey, I'm not that bad of a shot.

Chapter Six: “No Truer Friend…”



“Good morning Captain.”

I turned and nodded at Publius’ greeting.

“Morning yourself. And you know you can call me Matt or Lonestar when it’s just the two of us.”

“Of course Sir.” I sighed. The breath that left my mouth was a thick cloud, and the precipitation couldn’t seem to decide whether to be rain or snow. You had to love the weather this time of year, even in the Iron Hills, so far South of the Riverlands. “Sir, what we talked about last night…”

“Publius, I already told you; the convoy is a week ahead of schedule. Stopping for one day won’t lose the war.” I waved around at the Cavalry of Company D-1, the “Hellbent Canines”, most of whom were taking part in Easter Mass. In the center of the camp was 20-odd wagons carrying war material from the “port” (if a small cove can be called such a thing) of Coronado. It was a long, arduous journey from the Sea to Independence, and still about 3 times as quick as a direct overland route from California. “Especially on this day. You know most of our guys are from Lübeck. Relax and go enjoy the, uhm, Easter Brunch.”

“Because nothing says ’Christ is risen’ like salt beef, army crackers, and bat stew.” Publius muttered. I didn’t comment on that because I agreed with him. We’d passed along this route so many times most of the game had departed. Publius looked at me. “Still, Sir, as Theater Commander you should take it more seriously.”


I gave a dark chuckle. I was “theater commander” in the sense that I was the senior officer on station in the Iron Hills Military District. True, early in the war the Templar Knights had done their best to intercept the caravans, but events had removed the threat for the most part. 8 months after the sack of Lübeck (and 6 months after the start of the siege of Languedoc) Colonel Knife had led a massive cavalry raid, 4 companies strong, into Southeastern Antioch in a bid to teach the Templars “the Character of our People”. Targeting the manors of the Aristocracy and the constables of the towns and hamlets of “Saxony” he had lit off a revolution amongst the serfs. The “ethnic” Templars had screamed for security, and so much of the army besieging Languedoc had departed for home that there wasn’t now a chance in Hell of Languedoc being resolved quickly.

And so, Venetian “volunteers” had arrived to replace the Templar infantry outside the walls of Languedoc. They didn’t have any idea as to how to conduct a siege of a city either. In what could only be described as comical, the Antioch Army tried to build a large ramp made out of dirt up against the walls. The Masons simply added to the height of the affected section of wall, and dug tunnels the ramp. Alas, for the Templars and Venetian cannon fodder, by the end of the first year enough Hale Rockets and Ballistae had arrived via the timberclad steamship Mark Twain that it no longer was safe for them to get near the defenses of the city. The plan seemed to be “starve them out”, a singularly ineffective plan when they couldn’t figure out a way to deny us use of the Rhone River as a supply line.

But it gave us time, and lots of it. And as important as the clusterfuck that the Templars called a “siege” was, the hammer blow of Commodore Hipper’s Squadron killed more in a single day than had ever occurred in Human History on Terra. Using launches with spar torpedoes the Avalon Naval Ships (A.N.S….A massive inside joke) Mike Wong, Rob Wilson, And Greg Burnett sank 13 Templar Galleys, killing nearly 2,000 of them with the loss of a grand total of two for the Alliance. What followed was even more spectacular. After the first 18pdrs were installed on the ships, along with the larger and more impressive Enterprise the Navy of the Avalonian Assembly set sail, wrecking Templar Galleys in Lübeck and in the channel between the mainland and the island of Cyprus. Hipper’s Fleet then proceeded to destroy every ship in Antioch Harbor and shelled the Grand Temple for good measure.

Considering that those ships had the entirety of our cannon, it was a fairly good return for the investment. Especially when Cyprus was occupied without a fight, and local serfs gladly took over the policing duties there.

The Serfs…

After the Alliance cavalry left Antioch, the Templars responded with a ethnic cleansing that would have given Saddam Hussein a chubby. The Saxons, led by a young firebrand named Beldegg, were putting up one Hell of a fight. But if we didn’t intervene soon there wouldn’t any Saxons left to inhabit a Saxony. And in order to do that we have to clear the two large armies in the Riverlands. The army that the Watch was training and creating in Independence would deal with that. Big things were happening.

And here I was, stuck in the ass-end of nowhere escorting supply caravans that don’t really need it. I didn’t take it seriously because I didn’t see it as a serious assignment. But that wasn’t something one was suppose to say to a subordinate.

“I am taking seriously, Publius. I have weighed the Pros and Cons of taking Easter off, and came out in favor if it. Relax. Did Hasselbring’s Lance have anything to report when they returned this morning?”

“No Sir. Giscard’s Lance is out right now, they should be back this afternoon. Since we’re going to be sitting tight for a day, should I prepare my boys to go out this evening?”

“Probably a good idea.” I glanced around the camp, sighing in irritation. “Probably going to have to make a trip to Avalon when we get back.” I rubbed my eyes. “Eyesight is getting worse.”

Publius didn’t respond to that. I wondered if the same thought that had crossed my mind was running through his head.

I’m getting old.


-------


Our caravan arrived in Independence, without incident, 2 weeks later. Of the cities in the Riverlands, Independence had, by far, been the most liberal. Women had had a much more equal standing with men, a byproduct of so many of their ancestors being trappers and frontiersmen who married American Indians. Despite this, Independence had remained relatively small, not much bigger than Avalon. After Lübeck was occupied around 40% of the Germans in the city dispersed; some to California, most to the East. Independence and Avalon became the two primary destinations, and what had once been a sleepy town with Georgian architecture rapidly became a bustling city. Add that to the headquarters for the Alliance Army was in the town, it made for a busy place.

After making my way to the Quartermasters’ Officer, where I turned custody of the caravan and it’s contents over to a sleepy looking Languedoc Sergeant, I trotted my Taun over to the stables, got him taken care of, and walked across the parade ground. A company of Pikemen were marching around. As I walked by I recognized the Company CO.

“What’s up you whore?”

Captain Kendall grinned, told the Master Sergeant calling cadence to continue, ad walked over. We shook hands.

“Captain of the Infantry! You poor, dumb fellow. Congratulations!”

“Someone has to keep you saddle-jockeys in check. I was a bit surprised myself.” I noticed he was moving stiffly, and wondered how well he could march with his prior injuries. As if reading my mind, he said “’Course, the Missus thinks all this marching will make my condition worse. I thought about pointing out that it’s more likely the stabbing part would be the end of me, but I decided I liked living.” He paused and looked at me strangely. “Seen the Colonel yet?”

“Haven’t seen much of anything lately. Eyesight’s getting worse.”

“Then you’re in luck, Valdemar is here, as is Tysroc and E.S. Bastard. So is whats-her-face who use to be in the Air Force.”

“We expecting trouble?”

“Probably something you should talk to the Colonel about inside. I won’t keep you. Come by the Officer’s Mess later.” With that he turned and hurried back over to his company. I wondered what that was all about.

I continued across the Square, absentmindedly returning the salute of two archers who were chatting it up. As I walked up the front stoop Colonel Tapping of the New Londan Army (and the #2 man for the Alliance army) came out of the entrance. I saluted and said “Howdy Sir.” He returned the salute smartly and said “Captain Lonestar” before he continued on his way. Once upon a time he would have been an asshole about slowly returning the salute, but not now. I noticed he did the same with the two Archers I had walked past. I entered the HQ Building, presented my identification to the guard at the desk, and walked on down to the map room. In the middle of the large room sat a detailed sand table of Languedoc, complete with the siege lines around it. I could smell tea in the air, which had been one of the cash crops Antioch put out.

General O’Leary was looking over the map intently. Everytime I saw her her hair was less red and more gray. Of course, that was true for most us, except me. I had very little hair left to turn gray. Five Pikemen Companies and Five Longbowmen Companies were on a Hill Northeast of the lines. I cleared my throat. She jumped, and nearly tipped over her tea before she regained positive control of the cup.

“Evening Ma’am. We arrived about half an hour ago…know where Colonel Knife is?”

“Yes Captain, he’s down the hall in his office. He’ll be glad to see you made it here early, so am I, in fact. Big things are happening. Go ahead and report in.”

“Yes Ma’am…uh…if I may ask, where’d you get the Tea from?”

“Oh, Godfrey sends it to me intermittently.” She took a sip. “Almost out…”

I was offended for my friend’s shake. “You shouldn’t string him along…”

“I don’t. I haven’t responded to a single God-damned bag of tea leaves, sweets, or incense he sends. Keeps sending them, though. Go check in with Colonel Knife. He wanted to speak to you.” The look on her face indicated Knife didn’t want to speak to me at all, and obligated may have been a better term. Mildly alarmed, I scurried out. I came to Knife’s office and knocked.

“Enter.”

I walked in, Knife looked up from some paperwork, and said “Oh, hello Captain. Please shut the door and sit. Welcome back.”

“Yes, Sir…do you want to go ahead and hear my AAR?”

“Later, I need to talked to you first.”

Knife rubbed his face and suddenly looked older than he had ever been. He sighed, tapped his finger on the desk, and sighed again. There was a weight forming in my stomach.

“Sir…”

“Sorry. Lonestar… Matt, there isn’t an easy way to say this, so I just will. Paul graduated from the Engineering course at the University, and volunteered to go on a raid with RogueIce. He helped plan out how to destroy that fortified bridge over the Rhine. They left over a month ago, and haven’t been heard from since. Major Wallace led a recon mission; the bridge is destroyed but no bodies have been recovered. Nothing has been heard from our HUMINT…I’m sorry.”

I felt my heart tighten and my vision go even more blurry. “He joined up? After I told him not to? Who let him join? You all knew I didn’t want him to join! Was it RI?”

“Calm down. Matt…he’s of the age where he’s a citizen of his own right. You know you couldn’t legally forbid him from joining the army. He’s a good engineer too, the army needs people like him…”

“He, he HE! Why are you using present-tense? Is he alive?”

“No remains, I’m calling it MIA until proven otherwise. I let it be known to RI that if they got captured to drop Godfrey’s name. He said he’ll take care of him, right?”

I was huffing and nodded through the tears. “Does Alex know?”

“Yes she does.”

I jumped up and kicked the chair clear across the room. “GOD-DAMNIT! STUPID KID!!”

“Feeling better? Do you need to talk to anyone? Can you command?”

“What?”

“Can you command?”

“Ye…yes, of course!”

“Need to talk to anyone?”

I took a deep breath and tried to re-orient myself.

“Not right now, no. We about to kill someone?”

“Hopefully a lot of someones. Pick up the chair and sit.”

I picked up the chair and sat. I was still trembling. Knife began to give an outline of the plan to evict the Templars and Venetians from Languedoc. By the end of the brief my hands were trembling again, but this time in anger.

“Who the Hell made up this stupid plan? What is this, Amateur Hour?”

“General O’Leary came up with it, along with the senior officers.”

“And she just magically expects the Templars to go marching into storm of Arrows, rockets, and 9pdr shot? Uphill?”

“Can’t have an Agincourt without the French. Or Venetians, I suppose. Weren’t there Genoese at Agincourt as well? Regardless, it‘s the best option we have with the men we got. We‘re at the max amount of manpower we‘re gonna have for the war, until we can liberate Saxony.”

“Oh, this is what it’s about! Marina has to go off to fight her Spartans and rescue her Helots! Fuck ‘em! You and me both know the Templars and can stay in front of Languedoc for years and not materially affect the living conditions inside. Now we’re going to throw away our army because we’re betting the Templars are just going to walk right up and allow themselves to be slaughtered. Whoop-de-fucking-doo.”

Knife put his hands together. “There is nothing to indicate the Templars will change their tactics now.”

“Figures you’d support this lunacy. Didn’t you come up with a plan just like this, based on the assumption that the enemy wouldn’t do anything unexpected? How many of our brothers and sisters died because of those animals and their unexpected archers, Colonel?”

Right as it left my mouth I realized I had crossed the line. Knife stood up, leaned over the desk, took a deep breath, then looked at the ground. His body was shaking.

“Because you’ve had an exceptionally bad day, we’re going to pretend the conversation ended 5 minutes ago. I suggest you get some sleep. Your room at The ’Q is where you left it.”

-----------

I was shaken awake by the Messenger of the Watch around 0100.

“What? What is it?”

“Sir, there’s an Templar rider for you outside the West Gate.”

“For me? Not President Fremont? Not General O’Leary?”

“For you Sir.”

“Alright, I’ll be right down. Can someone get my mount ready out front?”

“Yes Sir.”

I dressed up, and briefly considered whether or not to don my banded armor, and eventually decided for. By the time I had walked down to the entryway Kinfe was waiting. If he was pissed about the words exchanged earlier he didn’t show it.

“Monkey is outside, Lonestar. Tell me what happened.” I nodded, stepped out the front entrance and mounted my noble steed(who was now getting as old and stiff as me) and set off towards the West Gate. As I came up to the closed gate, I dismounted and one of the sentries allowed me to step out through the “smaller door” built into the Gate door.

I walked away from the city wall until I could get a good look at the rider in the moonlight. It was Godfrey. I hoped he was here to tell me what I wanted to hear.

“Matthew, if you had not shown up today I would have had to tell Knife. Your son and some of the others with him are under my Protection at Kolossi Castle. The rest…” He threw a piece of string with several dogtags on it. The first one I saw said GILLIS, M. “I am sorry. We were most thorough in our manhunt. Those came from the bodies. I do not know if there are others, Paul and his comrades would not say.” I nodded numbly. In the moonlight he looked tortured, as if there was a heavy weight on his soul.

“Thank you Godfrey. I…thank you.”

“I am your friend Matthew, I made a promise.”

“Are you okay?”

“My political power is dwindling, truth be told. It is all I can do to ensure your son is safe. My infatuation with The Duchess doesn’t help matters. I’m in love…” He gave a harsh laugh “With a woman who could never love me, no matter how much I might want it. With a woman who is my enemy, and has designed an army with which to destroy my nation.”

“Uh…” I fumbled for words, not really knowing what to say. “We helped with the army too…”

“You recall the trip to the Haunted Coast? Me and her ’talked shop’ as you put it. It’s very simple, she’ll let the rigidness of my leaders be the end of us. And yet, I would be able to forgive her causing National Death if she would just acknowledge me. Oh well, one last try.” He reached into a saddle bag and pulled out another bag of tea, tossing it at me. “When you see her, give her my love. I will see you at Languedoc.” With that he turned and galloped off into the night.

It had been a little over 2 years since I had seen the man, and while I had expected to see him on the Field of Battle, or even as a defector, I hadn’t expected him to be in that state.

The sentry let me back in the city, and I returned to the ‘Q. General O’Leary was now standing in the entryway as well. “General…Godfrey sends his love.” I said dully, handing the bag over. She gave an annoyed look. “Also, this.” I tossed the Dog tags to her. She caught them, glanced through them and looked at me.

“And Paul?”

“He is safe at Kolossi, he says. That…that‘s all he said.”

General O’Leary nodded, then turned and walked the Flag Quarters, leaving me alone with Knife.

“Sir, the words that were exchanged…”

“There weren’t any words that were exchanged. The Conversation ended early, remember?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Kendall said you were complaining about your sight. Go to sick call first thing tom-…in a few hours.”

----------


“Well, the bad news is you don’t have cataracts. If you did I could just stick a bronze pin in there and push the crystallized lens out of the way.” Valdemar said. He looked like he was in the stabbing mood. He had turned into Avalon’s head physician, surgeon, and dentist in the years since we came here. He had not taken the responsibilities with grace, and was now fairly bitter.

“That’s good Valdemar, because I don’t feel like you jabbing needles in my eyes.”

“It’s called ‘couching’ and the Romans did it all the time. I’m just going to have to issue you some glasses and hope that does the job. Look through each of these, and tell me which one has the most improvement.” There were 4 pairs of glasses on the table.

“Don’t you have a machine that flips the lenses through until we find the right prescription?”

“Oh, Damn! I knew we should have done this at my Lenscrafters™ franchise. Just shut up and check.” I went through them and settled on the third one. He marked the lens type in my medical folder and said “Get out of my sight…I’m a busy guy.”

I plopped them on and walked out of the Medical wing across the way to the HQ building. When the war was over Independence was going to get one Hell of a facility, I thought. I made my way to the Officer’s mess, where everyone had just sat down for the morning brief. The tea kettle was over the open flame, and Marina nodded to me as she sipped from a tea cup. “It’s a good thing your friend came by when he did, Captain, this is the last of the old batch.” I didn’t respond.

About halfway through the brief the tea kettle started whistling and one of the Mess Stewards took it off the flame. General O’Leary turned and asked if she could get a refill. From the smell it was from the bag he had delivered last night…Godfrey grew a minty tea on his property, while most in Antioch grew something that was close the Earl Grey. Marina sat it down without drinking and listened to Colonel Tapping give a brief on the amount of shot the New London foundry was producing. General O’Leary was drinking the tea when he got to the number of 9pdr shot we could expect. The number seemed a bit low, and she choked when she heard it.

“Ma’am, I agree it isn’t a lot but…”

Her choking grew worse and she stood up, bringing her hands up to her throat. Knife Yelled “MEDIC!”. She leaned over the table and started coughing. Dark blood came out. She tried to stand up, and I could see blood coming from her nostrils too. Her eyes were looking around wildly.

“What…?”

She choked and burped and coughed up blood a few more times, then her eyes rolled up and she fell. Jegs caught her, but she was already dead.

That was a bit unexpected....

Oh, and I would have smacked you too.

Unexpected to say the least. Damn.

Knife wrote:

That was a bit unexpected....

Oh, and I would have smacked you too.

By this time you are Old(er) and Slow(er) and you knew I would be able to deftly avoid your punches.

Still a good story even though I'm dead. I look forward to the next chapter.

Lonestar wrote:

Knife wrote:

That was a bit unexpected....

Oh, and I would have smacked you too.

By this time you are Old(er) and Slow(er) and you knew I would be able to deftly avoid your punches.

Hmm, I realized you've mad some time jumps, but perhaps we should quantify this.....Lets see, your kid is old enough to 'join' so add on sixteen to eighteen years to how everlong it's been since SDnet's been on Terra.

By the time we discovered the Riverlanders, I believe we've been there ~7 years. So 23 years onto my young 32, I'd be 55. Two decades fighting Morlocks and training armies; I'd imagine a fit 55 .

Yeah, I'd kick your ass.

To put that kind of time in perspective, Darth Wongs eldest son is (I think) about 6 or 7, so he'd be around 30 by this point.

And woah, I too did not expect that, very well done.
The question on everyones minds (well, maybe) is: Was she just old and suffered an accident, or is Antioch trying to destroy the 'serpent' by cutting off its head?

I didn't see that one coming.


Wild Speculation Time:

I would suspect that someone is attempting to undo Godfrey by alienating all of his friends and allies, although I honestly can't be sure about anything in this story now.

Or Godfrey did it on purpose for his country knowing that she was blindly accepting his gifts? Whether has was forced to by superiors or of his own idea, maybe we'll find out.

Chapter Seven: “…No worse Enemy.”



The stretcher-bearers lifted the body and took it out of the room, the canvas tarp dangling over the sides. Valdemar sighed and turned to the inhabitants of the room. Myself, Colonels Knife, Tapping, and Jegs, Captains Kendall, Dragon, Wicked, and Majors Wallace and Coyote. There were a few Lieutenants from New London as well. I sighed, realizing how ten years ago there would have been another dozen faces I knew here, but the Old Guard was disappearing, one by one.

“I,” I said, “Could use some bloody tea.”

One of the Mess Stewards moved over to the tea kettle, but Knife snapped “Belay that!” And glared at me. “Maybe we should have Dr. Valdemar look it over first.”

Valdemar looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Because obviously that’s what poisoned her!”

“Knife, it could have been any of a dozen things. Hell, Stewie and Azeron died under the exact same circumstances, days after we arrived on Terra. Shep passed on a few months ago because of a similar attack. Why do you think the Tea did her in?”

Knife looked at Valdemar, shocked at the comment. “ Because it smells different from the usual Tea Godfrey sends, obviously.” Valdemar glanced at me, and I spoke. “Knife, Kolossi Mint Tea is something Godfrey grows, it’s more difficult to cultivate than the normal variety. Hell, me and Valdemar had some the first time we visited Antioch. I confess to getting sick the first time, but, as Valdemar pointed out, that was the first time I had had caffeine in years and years. It isn’t poisonous.”

Jegs snorted. “And if it isn’t Kolossi Tea? Don’t the wild types of Almonds back home have cyanide in them? Maybe they ground up Dark Widow spiders and put them in with the tea leaves.”

I shuddered. The spiders were smaller than a thumbnail and lead to a death much like what had happened to Marina. Unfortunately the venom was useless in hot water, so that theory was right out.

“Well…”

“No, you’re right.” Valdemar scratched his chin. “It was stupid of me to brush that off. No one drink from that Tea. Uhh…who’s in charge?”

There was a deafening silence. Colonel Tapping was technically second in command, but he and everyone else knew that was a sop to New London interests. Sure as Hell Knife didn’t look like he wanted Tapping in charge, and opened his mouth…

“Colonel Tapping is.” Jegs said.

Valdemar nodded. “Who’s going to tell Pick?”

There was another silence, then Kendall rubbed his arm and said “I guess I will.” He turned to Tapping and saluted. “By your leave, Sir.” Tapping nodded and returned the salute. Kendall left the room.

Valdemar looked around. “I’ll report the results of the autopsy as soon as possible. I’d also like to take a look at the assorted sweets and what-nots that Godfrey has sent her. I don’t think that’s the cause, but you never know…”

“Better clear it with Pick first. I have a feeling she’s going to end up being the executer of the estate.” Jegs said. Valdemar grimaced, nodded jerkily, and left the room, holding the tea kettle. Knife looked at me and rolled his eyes.

“’I would like some bloody tea.’” He said, mimicking my speech impediment.

“Sir, I don’t think Godfrey killed her.”

“Didn’t you tell me he said, and I quote, that he’ll do his best to kill her?”

“On the field of battle. I don’t think this qualifies…”

Knife snorted. “Not for most of those Templar retards, no. But remember the trip up to the Greek ruins? Marina imparted the concept of total war on the guy, all the ‘shop talk’ they had. “

To be honest, I had forgotten. Between the crazy werewolves, ghosts, vines, and giant monsters it had slipped my mind. But once reminded, I realized I had no response.

“What’s this going to do to our schedule?” Asked Dragon, blessedly saving me.

Tapping cleared his throat. “With every delay more Saxons die. We honest honor our pledge to Beldegg and move quickly.” There were nods around the Mess.

-------


The results came back fairly fast. Valdemar was certain that the tea leaves were not of the domestic variety, and most likely had some kind of agent in it. The evidence, it seem, declared Godfrey a guilty man.

Three days after Marina’s death, she was cremated. Knife put two gold Avalonian dollars on her eyes. “For the Ferryman.” He told puzzled onlookers. Marina had never specified how she wanted her body to be disposed of, but there seemed to be a consensus that she would have preferred a manner similar to those of the heroes of antiquity. Rotting in the ground just wasn’t her style, though her name would go on the Wall of Heroes in Avalon.

I now wondered if my son was indeed safe in Godfrey’s hands. Anyone one of us might have drank from that kettle, wiping out the Alliance leadership. It damn near succeeded. I thought of the Dogtags Godfrey had tossed me, and wondered if Michael “RogueIce” Gillis had died fighting, or tortured to death. I had assumed he had fallen in battle, but now I wasn’t so sure.

Damn. I had always made fun of him, and said more than a few harsh words. I certainly regretted them now.

I was now in a funk not felt since our arrival on Terra, and there was no Rob Wilson to snap me out of it. The service was over, and people were filing past the pyre. After about 15 minutes most had wandered off. Pick was standing there, staring into the fire. People were patting her on the shoulder. Soon she was the only on there. I walked up.

“Pick? You okay?”

She nodded, still staring into the fire.

“You, uh, aren’t going to do anything irreversible are you?”

She turned her head, looked at me, then walked off to her quarters. I hoped she would be okay. I sighed, glanced down at the remains, and said “I’ll be seeing you.” and left.

----------

A week after the funeral the Alliance Army mustered and began the march to Languedoc. The 5 companies of pikemen, 5 of longbowmen, 4 of Cavalrymen, and two artillery batteries trudged out of Independence. I walked up to one of the 9pdr Gun-Captains. Elheru glanced at me, he was riding in the carriage which carried his powder and shot. The gun itself was being pulled.

“Hey Lonestar.”

“Hey El. Uh…why bright red?” I said, refering to the gun-carriage. Elheru shrugged.

“For the speed bonus.”

“Oh.” I started to ride back up to my company, then turned around. “Wait, what?”

Elheru grinned. “Sorry…it was a joke that kind of took on a life of it’s own.” I stared at him, then snorted with laughter, shocked out of my funk. I shook my head and rode up to my company, passing companies of pikemen, each one with the standard of Avalon, and double-headed eagle that had the words “The Assembly of Avalon“ under it. As I caught up to Publius, he turned to me and asked, “Nervous?”

Someone, probably CivilWarMan’s company, started singing. Soon the entire army had joined in. It was the Battle Hymn of the Republic. I realized I was crying, thinking of my lost home on Earth.

It was beautiful.

“No.” I said, “I’m not.”


------

We arrived in the vicinity of Languedoc after about 10 days, a remarkable speed for a mostly infantry army dragging cannon and hale rockets. The artillery arranged itself on the Eastern hill of St. Marie. The archers below the artillery. The pikemen below the archers. The cavalry divided into two, two companies in the Southern wodded area, two companies in the Northern wooded area.

Major Coyote was in charge of our half, in the Southern wooded area. He instructed Brungardt to take two lances out to harass the Templars, who, incredibly, had yet to react in a meaningful way to our presence. After running out and setting a few of the Templars’ tents on fire Brungardt rode back. It was enough to get Marshal Capet to organize the besieging army into what could charitably be called field formations. Fire from the Languedoc Walls forced them to pull farther out before the organized. Looking through my field glasses, I could see Godfrey and Capet arguing. It looked as if Capet won, the prospect of open battle after the past few years of siege and raiding tactics was too good to ignore. A thousand Templar knights formed on the field, with another couple thousand men-at-arms organized behind them. I didn’t see any significant numbers of archers, and the siege lines were now barely manned. Judging from the activity on the Languedoc Walls, I suspected the Masons were getting ready to sally out after the battle started. Capet raised his sword, shouted something, and one thousand knights started galloping towards the hill. The Men-at-Arms started to march behind them.

Our Pikemen lowered into a phalanx and sat still. We remained in the wooded area, awaiting orders as the Knights thundered past us. Then the rockets started falling. Then the Cannon. Then nearly 500 arrows came screaming down on the attackers at once, followed by “fire at will“ volleys. By the time the first knights reached the Pikemen nearly half had been killed or wounded. Most of the rest had turned around, and the handful that made it up the hill were defeated handedly by our expertly trained pikemen. Capet was one of the ones who turned and ran, Godfrey had remained back with his knights.

Pulled at my collar. The damn armor was hot, and heavy and actually offered much less protection than the armor that the Templar wore. I couldn’t imagine wearing the full plate they had on. Capet was now gesticulating at the luckless Antioch and Venetian Men-at-arms to move forward, and with clear reluctance they did. I glanced at my watch. We may be done before dinner!

The cannon balls tore into the first rank, first the men-at-arms paused, then as the arrows and rockets rained down they panicked, trampling each other to get away. I heard whistles being blown, that was the signal. With a groan I put on that damn Helmet and pulled out Yellow Rose, her steel glistening. “All right men!” I said, “KILL THEM!!!!” And we charged out. In the background I could hear the drummer boys playing the ceasefire signal, which was comforting.

We tore into the panicked infantry, like a knife through hot butter. I was surprised, nay, stunned at how much easier it was to kill my fellow man than Morlocks. A few cried for what I assumed was mercy, but a quick glance at my fellow officers indicated no one was in the mood to take chances. Neither was I.

Almost as if by supernatural means, I sensed someone charging at me. I ducked just in time to avoid Godfrey chopping my head off, though he clipped the helmet. My head ringing from the clang, I noticed he was coming around again to my left. Right as he charged I slid off Monkey to my right, causing him to miss again.

Jesus! I thought. He really is trying to kill me! Looking around I saw a Venetian corpse still grasping a spear. I grabbed it and threw it at Godfrey’s mount. A hit! Godfrey was bucked off and I briefly considered running. After all, he was the only thing protecting my son. If he was still alive. Godfrey was getting up slowly, and it looked like the armor had bent out of shape near his knees, and he was having a hard time moving. It would have been unsportsmanlike of me to take advantage of the situation.

On the other hand, like the old saying goes, “If you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying.” I started to charge, but slipped on a 9pdr Cannonball. Cursing, I stood, stooped over and grabbed the cannonball(it must have been from the first volley, as it wasn’t very warm) and threw it like a shot-put. It hit Godfrey on the left shoulder, knocking him back on his ass. I ran forward, holding Yellow Rose high above him. He looked up at me and snarled “You are not fighting with honor!” I paused.

“After what you did, you speak to me of fighting with Hon-” I didn’t get a chance to finish that, because he gave me a swift kick to the left knee, causing me to fall. I tried to stand and failed. Godfrey lurched up, holding his broadsword. I looked up at him.

“Is my son safe?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Alright. Do what you will.” Clearly, my mouth had taken on a life of it’s own.

Just when I thought I was done for, I heard more music playing. I glanced East, seeing Kendall’s company moving at the closest to double time that pikemen can. Looking west I saw the Languedoc Masons slaughtering the Templars not fighting on the hillside. Godfrey must have seen the same thing, because he paused, then started to limp towards his mount, which was trotting around in circles. Even bloodied he managed to mount his Taun by himself, and off he galloped.

I looked around, the field was rapidly emptying. There were very few Alliance dead, and very few Templar/Venetians standing. Kendall walked up, with a grin on his Dwarven face.

“Looks like we won!”

I glanced at the retreating Templars, thinking of the high walls of Antioch.

“No,” I said. “Not yet.”

Yay!

On a serious note; that would be one hell of a thing to see. An artillery barrage tearing through a heavy calvary charge. I wouldn't imagine standard infantry would march into that after seeing knights getting slaughtered.

Well, that really was a rather expected outcome; the fuedal horde is no match for artillery and modern tactics. Still, the Templars preformed rather poorly; I would imagine Godfrey would have arranged in better had he been given the opportunity.

Having not commented before I figured I would slip in now and say that was wonderful now give us more damnit . Anyway I'll be curios to see if Godfrey ends up with a bit more prestige and power after he stayed to fight while Capet and, presumably, much of the rest of the leadership retired early from the field.

Excellent, as usual

Look forward to more! Soon! (Hopefully?)