Guns of the Temple (The Polaris Chronicles Book 1) (15 page)

“Balls, this is totally excessive!”

Draco gawked as the countryside rolled by and the wind whipped stands of hair into his face. At the head of a column of the Hekmatyar legion, Tirefire the Lesser all sat on the roof of a hulking, box-like contraption that gouged the road as it trundled toward the village of New Petrovic. It resembled a carriage from far away but moved without a team of horses or oxen, and belched thick smoke into the sky. If the priests were to be believed, the squad rode on a holy rolling temple eight centuries old which ran on pure diesel. And if there was anything more valuable than milligrad, it was that ancient, heady, liquid fire.

“It’s a waste, when any war-wagon would do the job with less noise and complaint,” Lotte said, tugging at the harness holding her flamberge to her back. “Then again, if the Hero wants to squander his funds, so be it. At least we don’t have to walk.”

“I’m not sure it’s a waste.” Taki shrugged. “I think burning a hundred liters of fuel may seem like colossally stupid excess to us, but to a man like the duke, it’s a good investment.”

“More like it’ll leave him bankrupt before long. Heroes can’t run on goodwill alone. And I think he has a certain lack of goodwill,” Draco said.

“It looks like it does the trick for him, though,” Taki said. “You can either rule through fear or love, right?”

“Maybe, but I wonder where he gets all of his ammunition. Feelings don’t get you ‘grad.”

“Oh! I heard a rumor,” Hadassah said. “He promised his liver to the Murdercube, and the spirit rewarded him in turn. I mean, do you see what we’re carrying? All clean and smokeless, even the bombs,” she said, fondling a faded green fragmentation grenade. “I’m getting hot and bothered just thinking about it! It wouldn’t surprise me if he found this awesome thing in the same place.”

“Still, never thought I’d be actually riding one of these for real. It’s smaller than the one back at the Temple,” Draco said.

“This is different than the one we have. I believe this is more of an ‘armored personnel carrier’ and the one we have is a ‘main battle tank.’ That’s what the ancients called them.” Hadassah said, brightly.

“I didn’t know you were interested in this sort of thing, Mikkelsen,” Taki said.

“Of course I am,” Hadassah said. “This is the coolest shit the Golden Age ever produced. They go ‘bang!’ and growl at you. How could you not want to hump something so powerful?”

Draco snickered. “Now you’ll be able to. The Duke’s little monstrance can actually get it up unlike the one back home.”

“Hey, shut the hell up, Lumpy! Noel tries her best, but she can’t do anything if the exarch won’t let her get fuel for it!”

“Noel needs to get more sun.”

“Are you talking about High Neokoros Graz?” Karma asked. He had been silent until now, lazing against a waterskin while staring up at the sky.

“Yeah, she’s a good friend of mine! You know her too, Gillette?” Hadassah replied.

“I do, actually. I once helped her acquire a heart for an analytical engine. On the sly, of course. Got my arse kicked for it when the archangel found out,” he whispered, causing her to giggle.

“You know, I don’t think she’s ever mentioned you.”

“Then I need to complain to Lady Graz, for never telling me about her lovely friend.” Karma smiled softly, and Hadassah’s usual retort died in her throat when she met his eyes.

“Hey man…” Draco started to say, his expression darkening.

“Everyone, check your powder,” Lotte said. “The village approaches with haste.”

“Yes, Captain!” they replied in unison.

“Remember, these are mainly unskilled rebels, but don’t let your guard down. There may be Imperial agents or even Forsworn among them, so don’t do anything vainglorious.”

“Great. Forsworn,” Draco muttered as he inspected the wax-slathered spare LeMat cylinders kept in pouches on his belt. Reloading his sidearm was a simple matter of swapping cylinders, though preparing the under-barrel slug launcher was a tedious affair.

“Are there a lot of traitors in these parts?” Taki asked. He drew the charging handle back on his Bastard and let go. The bolt cycled forward, slamming a gleaming brass round into the chamber. Carefully, he closed the dust cover on the ejection port and flipped the safety on.

“Actually,” Karma said, “I’ve encountered a few men here I thought were actually Forsworn or well-disguised Imperial spies. Untrained, but powerful. Sadly, I was unable to capture them.”

Draco huffed and sneered. “Oh? Undeveloped mooks too much to handle, Gillette?”

“I said I couldn’t capture them. I was forced to kill them,” he said with a thin-lipped smile.

“Seriously?” Hadassah asked with a poke to Karma’s arm. “When did you see those guys? What were they like? I’ve never actually fought one.”

Karma shot her back a wink. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. In fact, I know a nice place in the city that serves Ursalan wine from Bordeaux. Let’s say tonight after the mission?”

Hadassah gave him a sideways pout. “How do I know you won’t try to off me like you did the captain?”

“Because you’re witty and beautiful, and I want to know you better.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, and turned away blushing.

“On your order,” Draco muttered to Lotte, “He’ll disappear.”

Lotte shook her head.

“We’re here but we’re taking fire!” shouted one of the Duke’s footmen, who rode alongside them on an armored destrier. Like the rest of the Khazari forces, he was expensively equipped with good half-plate, a metal helm, and a bolt-action kalash, and flanged mace. “Someone tipped off the fucking partisans that we’re coming!”

The village’s corrugated steel walls were in full view ahead, and so were the makeshift barricades blocking off the main gate to the town. Tiny shapes of men scurried around, accompanied by flashes and smoke of rifle and musket-fire. Lotte regarded the scene with a hard stare. Sieges were undesirable in general and meant boredom and casualties. A ball whizzed by her head and she paid it no mind.

“Keep going, driver! Nothing they shoot will penetrate,” she yelled down the hatch of the relic. “When you’re within fifty meters, go at full speed and ram the gate.”

“You’ll fly off!” the driver objected.

“That’s the point!”

“Nothing quite like fighting in the shade of Persian arrows, is there?” Karma quipped before mouthing the Thureos sutra. A shimmering veil of blue surrounded him to provide a temporary shield against fast-moving projectiles. The rest of the team followed suit and tightly gripped the handholds around them. The rolling temple lurched as it accelerated. Bolts and bullets pinged against the armor like hailstones, and Taki grunted as a musket ball grazed his shoulder. Due to the protection of his prana and the low power of the projectile the blow felt no worse than being punched. He could not help but smile at the thought of what awaited. He glanced down at his Bastard and felt warm from the anticipation. Virgin Newboy though he was, he was still a titan compared to the ants in New Petrovic. Battle was most exciting when one was sure to win.

Metal squealed and crunched as they plowed through a pile of molding plastic, broken furniture, and banded barrels that blocked the village’s entrance. Bolstered by their momentum, the squad leapt off the roof and started their attack. Ruddy-faced peasants charged them, carrying stolen muskets and crudely-fashioned spears whose heads were smeared with excrement. Lotte swung bloody arcs in the air as she hacked off limbs, gunbarrels, and heads with her massive sword. Draco pushed up the center firing and leaving great clouds of smoke in his wake before switching to his fighting iron. Hadassah’s Nagant thundered as she sent rounds downrange to blow off helmets and splatter the brains of crossbowmen firing from windows. Karma unsheathed twin spatha and lunged into a group of bannermen. With expertly done spins and leaps, he cut throats and chests before finishing his ballet with a snap-kick and a beheading.

Taki whipped his gaze around wildly, looking for a target. A splinter of resentment burrowed through his thoughts. His companions were too efficient. He could not distinguish himself if there was no one for him to kill!
No, that’s wrong thought,
he chastised himself. He forced himself to smile. After all, a battle won without bloodshed was equally honorable.

Bricks exploded in front of him from minie balls fired from the right flank. Muscle memory took over and he rolled to face his opponents. He could see two heads bobbing up and down behind a junked wagon. They had hoped to score lucky potshots, but had missed. Such an attack would have usually provoked anger from the intended target, but Taki felt glee instead. He knelt and invoked the Pyr sutra. Gouts of flame belched from his hands and enveloped the wagon’s carcass. It was not a sutra he usually deployed, since it tended to singe the hairs on his arms, but he wasn’t sure if Khala would be enough in this instance.

As predicted, the two rebels panicked and ran from their disintegrating cover, discarding their muskets in their haste. Without pause, Taki switched to his Bastard, took aim, and pulled the trigger two times for each rebel. The duke had provided milligrad, and the weapon sang joyfully in turn. Rounds punched into the fleeing men’s backs and they skidded on the street as if they’d tripped over their own feet. Neither, however, got back up. That they had been unarmed and fleeing briefly registered in Taki’s consciousness.
They’re the ones who threw their guns down. They made themselves defenseless and acted in error. Now they’ve paid the price.

Within minutes, the battle was over. Lotte held up a fist to signal her squad to rally and be ready. They crouched and waited, but the gunshots had stopped coming toward them. Amidst the wreckage of the barricade, the duke’s men started to stream in on horse and foot. At first they cautiously moved in cover while sweeping the area with their kalashes, but quickly found their progress unimpeded. Triumphantly, they let out a shout and shot their guns in the air.

“We didn’t expect that last move on your guys’ part. Very ballsy, very cool,” a Hekmatyar sergeant said to Lotte as he offered her a moldering cigarette. She declined with a polite wave.

“For us, this is minimal resistance. The relic helped things as well.”

“Your orders are to be rearguard and make sure none of these scum escape now. We’ll go and take care of the rest. Teach them a lesson for sucking the padishah’s tiny cock.”

Lotte nodded and motioned for her men to remain on guard. Taki again glanced at his kills. They lay sprawled out on the street. Contrary to his expectations, there was little blood that pooled around them. It mattered not. The corpses were his tribute to the glory of his country.

The next hour passed by uneventfully, save for the occasional gunshot from the distance – nothing that indicated a firefight had broken out. The squad was getting bored.

“I’m glad we won, but I wanted to do something cooler. Maybe kill some Imperials or save a room full of naked wenches,” Hadassah finally remarked. “Those rebels were total amateurs.”

“Watch your tongue, lest you get what you wish for,” Lotte said.

“Naked wenches?”

Lotte leaned over and pulled at one of Hadassah’s ears until the girl started to whimper.

“The rebels don’t seem very good at fighting, even for humans,” Taki said. “Are we really needed here or is this all an expensive farce?”

“You’re a smart guy, Natalis,” Karma said. “You see, this kind of gig is the ultimate easy job and it pays well. Far better than fighting real enemies for a few measly bullets a month.”

“And so that’s why you neglected to send your superiors any status reports for the last two months?” Lotte asked, smirking in annoyance.

“Touché, Cake-, er, Captain.”

“Have a care for your balls, Gillette.”

“Sorry, Milady,” he said, and unconsciously crossed his legs.

“How many little places like this are there around the province?” Taki asked. “It seems like we’re going to be doing this type of thing for a long while yet.”

“You’d be right,” Karma replied. “The countryside is dotted with these little hamlets. Most of them are occupied by Arben and Szerbek, while their overlords, the Khazari, occupy the cities. To me they all look like the same hairy bastard, but the way they blather on you’d think we were dealing with harpies versus skiapods. The hamlets tend to band together over these divides and start raising a stink over how the minority in Pristina are oppressing them and then it’s only a matter of time until some tax collector gets defenestrated. The men dust off their old muskets in the attics and then you have a peasant revolt.”

“So it’s all about the money in the end?”

“Oh, everything is. You see, if you succeed in establishing a settlement then you can charge tolls on the roads and tariffs on trade, and thus make yourself very rich. If the guy you’re supposed to send nearly all of your bullets to is over a hundred leagues away, then it’s very tempting to just stop doing so. That leads to thinking you have the right to make your own rules and perhaps even tell the basileus to go fuck himself because what has he done for you lately?”

“But then Hero Hekmatyar squashes you like a bug.”

“Another reason these pezzies are total amateurs,” Hadassah said. “Instead of chucking the tax collector out the window, you should just make a big show of apologizing and weeping and kissing his hand, and then you give him a small sack of ammo saying that it’s all you have right now because you’re poor, but not to worry, you’re honest and you pay your debts eventually.”