IronStar (59 page)

“Shuttle One,
Argosy
, we see
activity in your area. Figures on the roof of the building in front of you,
more massing just inside the walls north and west, including what looks like
horses. Also west behind the inner wall they’re moving some large piece of
equipment, looks like a construction derrick or something, the main beam is
pointed directly away from you at the moment.” Irshe and the Prince stopped in
front of the old man.

“Acknowledge,
Argosy
. We’ll
try and be quick,” Kirrah replied, without remembering to wait for Lieutenant
Warden’s response. “Guns, suggest you arm dorsal point defense immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the voice responded,
also barely noticing the source of his orders. The turret on top of the shuttle
was joined by a second turret extruded farther forward, sporting four
three-centimeter muzzles on shorter tubes.

“Parsh’ap,” Kirrah turned to the
black-robed man. “We see your soldiers on the rooftop. We see your cavalry
behind the walls, and your siege engine being prepared. None of these can harm
us. Please tell them to not provoke us farther, lest more O’dai are harmed
needlessly. We wish only to return your wounded, and depart.”

« Kirrah of Talam is observant. I
assure you, if there is no more damage, we mean no harm. We want only our own
back. Are there more injured? And how is my young student? Whose blood stains
your garments? » he added, turning to the Prince, who looked ready to burst
into tears again. The young man stumbled to his old teacher and grasped his
hand.

Kirrah replied, “There are twenty
on this vessel. Bring them forth!” The first armored Talamae soldier backed
down the ramp carrying one end of a litter bearing one of the injured O’dai.

The Prince kissed the old man’s
hand and blurted in O’dai, « It wasn’t my fault, Magister! All the supplies I
demanded did not arrive! And the curse-of-heaven weapon did no good, none! And
the Talamae no longer fight fairly! They did not take to the field where the
invisible blade could cut them down like the Heaven-messenger promised! They
attacked at night, with fire and star-powder! And they used evil magic to make
the sky roar! »

The old man looked pityingly at the
young Prince, and back to Kirrah. « What of the rest of our army? » he asked.

She replied, “They are defeated.
One in four have died, most live. The survivors are being escorted to the
border of O’dai, afoot, by Talamae cavalry. They shall arrive in about a tenday.
Parsh’ap, this war is over. Talam has the Regnum Draconis as ally. This vessel
behind me, which so easily opens O’dai’s gates, is the least of our siege
engines. There is no more need for bloodshed. We do not attack unless attacked.

“Talam has a treaty with the
Regnum, for defense and trade. Talam will grow rich from this trade and its
merchants will travel among the stars, where other humans like us live. The
‘heaven-messengers’ have lied to you, and they have lost this entire world.
Join with us, and prosper. We want no war.” Behind her, the last of the O’dai
casualties were being settled on the ground well away from the shuttle’s belly
thrusters, between Kirrah and the gaping palace door. Issthe, who had deplaned
to assist, now came and stood beside Kirrah.

The old man turned to the Prince,
who was trembling slightly. « Who has spilled this royal blood, my student? »
he asked, gesturing at the stains still discoloring the young O’dai’s leggings.

The youth turned and pointed to
Peetha, standing to Kirrah’s right. The translation program stuttered briefly
on his unknown vocabulary. « This
bzzzzz
, she attacked me with
treachery, in the very royal tent! I
zzzzz
, but she…
cut
me! I
demand war on these
bzzzzz
, all of them! Royal blood demands it! » The
Prince turned and looked scornfully and triumphantly at Kirrah.

Issthe touched her comm button and
spoke within her helmet, a little loud in the suitcomm, “Kirrah, beware. The
old man is going to…”

The rest of her words were
interrupted by Parsh’ap himself, his voice echoed through Kirrah’s translator,
«You are correct, my student.
They
should not have spilled your blood. »
He twisted the end of his cane, it came away from the shaft with a flash of
bright metal that swung in a swift arc in his hand. The Prince clutched at his
throat, vivid red blood spurting between his fingers. Eyes wide and mouth open
in shock, he spun to face his unexpected attacker. His momentum carried him
around in a descending corkscrew, as his knees folded to land him in a heap
against the old man’s robed legs. «
I
should have drawn it, » the old
man finished.

Kirrah’s beamer was out, several of
the Marines’ weapons were leveled, too late to make a difference.

« You allowed a woman to defeat
your army,
O’dai’s
army. You allowed yourself to be
bled
by a
woman. You are not O’dai. » Prince Paedako was making a rapid series of gasping
sounds, panting and gurgling while his lungs filled with blood.

The old man shook the Prince’s
fingers irritably from his robes, and added, « Your body will be fed to the
bzzzz
.
The King has one son less. You will not be much missed. » The boy slumped to
the ground, staring wildly about, chest heaving and limbs twitching into
stillness.

Parsh’ap stepped back a disdainful
pace, looked at the shocked circle of faces around him and said, « That was no
business of yours. Nor is
this
! » He put a small object to his lips and
blew two shrill whistles. Suddenly men appeared at the top of the palace wall,
and crossbow bolts sleeted down.
Not again!
Kirrah thought, then
realized they were not aimed at
her
squad, but at the injured O’dai
soldiers she had brought back, lying helpless in the courtyard under the wall.

“
Marcus! Stop them!
” she
screamed. The Marines raised their weapons and ten heavy beamers cut loose a
full-power barrage of automatic fire against the rooftop archers. Each weapon
cycled five caseless rounds per second from its external magazine, each round
delivering the explosive force of a hand grenade out of a miniature one-use
energy cell. The air lit with a crisscross web of incandescent yellow bolts and
hammering, thunderous explosions as rock and sparks and fragments of masonry
flew from the walltop. Men and pieces of men and equipment showered down from
the intended ambush and landed in steaming bloody gobbets among the growing
pile of rubble in the flower beds at the base of the palace wall. A section of
flat roof behind the shattered wall collapsed with a crash, sending up even
more clouds of dust. As suddenly, the volley halted, echoes rumbling uneasily
across the city.

Kirrah looked around at the
carnage. All but one of the Marines were facing the palace wall, Issthe had
reflexively and needlessly thrown one arm over her face, Irshe and Peetha were
in a half-crouch. A single Marine stood facing the opposite direction, eyes
scanning, beamer ready, deadly alert to a second ambush from behind.
Remind
me never to try to sneak up on Adrianne
, Kirrah noted to herself as she
recognized the other woman through her helmet.
Even in the middle of a
firefight, she was facing the other way, ready for the unexpected.

The blackrobed O’dai Parsh’ap
uncovered his ears, stood fully erect, and said in his reedy, academic-sounding
voice, « Perhaps I was a little hasty in judging the Prince’s performance
against you, Kirrah of Talam. Nevertheless, he was a fool, and brought shame to
his country and King because of it. What will you do with your new friends? I
believe a few have escaped my judgement. » Indeed three of the wounded Kirrah
had transported from Talameths’cha were crawling, or trying to crawl, the few
meters between their litters and the group of Regnum Marines, who were menacing
the line of crossbowmen deployed in the garden. The other wounded were pinned,
some by multiple quarrels, to the ground.

Kirrah caught the old man’s eye and
replied, “Parsh’ap, I rescind my offer of cooperation. The O’dai nation is led
by wicked, foolish men. You are unworthy to participate in the benefits I am
bringing to this world. From this time forward, your nation will be excluded
from our friendship. I will leave you to rot, while the rest of the world
prospers around you, until your people rise up and destroy their rulers, or
perish with them.

“I offer your King one chance to
reverse my judgement. If he renounces this butchery and sends me your head, I
will accept his apology. Tell him I said so. Peetha, Irshe, help Issthe return
these men to the shuttle. When they are healed by Regnum and Talamae arts, they
may return here or not, as they choose.”

« I will convey your words, » the
old man said, bowing ironically to Kirrah. « I believe our business is
concluded. » He turned and walked calmly to the ruined palace doorway, his exit
spoiled slightly by the necessity to clamber past large fallen chunks of the
palace’s cornice and upper wall.

Kirrah turned, sickened, to join
the others as they carried the three surviving injured men back up their ramp.
The original O’dai swordsmen stood stunned by the violence, moving like sheep
out of the way of the Marines.

Suddenly from outside the courtyard
she heard a shout, followed by a complex creaking sound and a rattle of wooden
beams, and looked up to see the arm of a trebuchet swing up above the inner
wall, about a hundred meters off. From its sling rose a half-meter wide barrel
with a flaming rag stuffed into its bung, and more flames licking around its
sides as it lifted in a high parabolic arc through the air towards them.

“
Guns-s!
” Kirrah and Marcus
shouted in unison. “Incoming!” the Marine Lieutenant elaborated.

“What…
Oh!
” The four muzzles
on the forward dorsal turret swiveled in a blur to track the airborne object,
and four yellow streaks stabbed out to intercept it halfway down its descending
arc. A large fireball bloomed in the air thirty meters overhead, and a big
greasy black cloud of smoke rose into the sky. The blast wave struck them with
a dull
thud
, knocking down a few of the O’dai. Droplets of burning oil
spattered down, re-igniting several of the O’dai’s uniforms, but most of the
two-hundred-odd liters of flammable liquid seemed to have been consumed in the
airburst.

“
Damn!
Sorry about that,
sir! I was configured for metal objects, that thing was made of
wood
!”

“We forgive you this time,
Cavanaugh,” Lieutenant Warden said a little dryly. “I believe optical
triggering might be indicated. I doubt the indies are going to lob a mortar
shell at us. Belay that, they might. Be ready for anything, Gary, including
trained birds!”

“Aye, Sir,” the somewhat chagrined
voice replied.

From the top of the shuttle’s ramp,
Kirrah turned to the thoroughly dispirited O’dai guardsmen standing or
wandering aimlessly nearby. “Tell everyone what you have seen today. Tell them
only wicked men kill their own Prince, and only fools fight Regnum fire with
arrows and barrels of oil. Tell them their King is destroying their country’s
future when he could be leading them into prosperity. And tell them their sons
in the Nineteenth Army are returning, a gift from Kirrah Warmaster. We will now
destroy that siege engine as we depart.”

The ramp cycled closed and the
belly thrusters came on-line. They lifted fifty meters into the air and hovered
west across the garden’s inner wall, lightly scorching and scattering a troop
of cavalry poised there for some further mischief. At Kirrah’s request the bow
beamer was set to low power and continuous fire, and the single trebuchet was
burned to charcoal and ash where it stood, without further human casualties.
They turned and rose into the sky, treating the O’dai populace to the sight and
sound of an Assault Shuttle departing on its main rockets.

“Well, that was one for the
records,” commented Lieutenant Warden as they settled in for the short flight
home. “Marine combat gear versus antique armor and swords! I can’t decide
whether they’re brave or stupid or both!”

“Both, I’m afraid,” said Captain
Schmado. “They are more afraid of being punished than being killed, and with
good reason. The entire ruling house will be aroused against Talam because
their palace was attacked, but worse, because of bringing them a wounded
prince. He should have died in battle or been victorious. Dai knows, his father
gave him a large enough army.”

“I do not understand how that will
make much difference,” said Irshe from across the aisle. “They already wanted
to kill us, and couldn’t. What can be worse? And what can they hope to
accomplish against us?”

“Captain Schmado is right,” said
Issthe. “That man Parsh’ap used to enjoy killing, I think, but now he denies
himself even that small perversion. He is a being with no guidance but mind and
greed. If the other rulers are like him, they will not cease from trying to
harm others, including Talam.”

The cabin comm chimed softly, and
Flight Engineer Thornlea’s voice paged Lieutenant Warden for an incoming call.
With his helmet retracted, the call was audible to others.

“Warden, go.”

“Corporal Sengli, Sir. We have a
problem here. Another Kruss, it managed to get into the city on some sort of
stealthed aircraft, some kind of ultralight. We never did pick it up on scan,
just saw it landing in the courtyard here where Lieutenant Roehl is billeted.
Before anyone could react, it was into her quarters, you know how fast they
are, sir.

“Private Singh managed to disable
its aircraft on the ground, I don’t think it expected anyone but indigs here.
But now it’s got two indig hostages. It’s threatening to kill them if we don’t
let it go.” Kirrah’s face had gone pale as a sheet.