Princess Rescue Inc (91 page)

“Yeah,
I can see that,” Ryans said dryly then sighed.

“Nice
outfit by the way,” Perry said, eying the princess. Ryans turned and tried to
stifle a groan.

Deidra
was wearing brown leather armor. It was shaped quite well over her curved body.
The armor had some Roman Centurion touches, such as the shiny metal pauldrons
and the helmet she was holding against one hip. The sword belted to her other
hip was thinner than a gladius and curved. Its handle was longer with a spiked
pommel.

“Off
to war? Or just expecting a crowd when you...” Ryans cut it off before he could
finish as she glowered at him.

Perry
coughed in his fist moving away to give them space. Ryans sighed. “Just be
careful okay? Stick to the plan, no heroics, no leading the frigging charge got
it? Don't get caught out and... Well you know,” he said awkwardly. He waved
helplessly.

She
smiled impishly and kissed him on the cheek. “It's what I do best,” she said,
smiling.

“Do
and I'll use that bloody sword on your rump missy,” he growled, arms going
around her. He tried not to think of her dressed like this, looking like Xena
but with blond hair. Maybe what's-her-name. The side kick. No, maybe the other
one... He smiled as she hugged him close then let go.

“We'll
see what sword is used. Later,” she said grinning impishly over her shoulder to
him. He sighed as she climbed up onto the back of a war beast and reared up.
She kiyayed and then rode off with a backwards grin.

He
turned his head away from the dust. He caught Perry's look and shrugged.
“Better her than me. One of us has to be on the front. She's trained for it,”
Perry said. He shook his head. “Damn screwed up culture.”

Perry
snorted and waved.

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

The
battle lines drew themselves up across the field. The artillery was set up on a
nearby hill. There was a shallow flat area between the forces where the battle
would most likely be fought. A rise of earth on either side separated the two
camps, screening their view of each other. The artillery was lined up. The
crews were resting. A few gun crews were rehearsing as if their lives depend on
it. The guns weren't zeroed yet, but Lance corporal Newban had them ready to
go. There were a dozen field pieces and twelve mortar units. Crates and barrels
were nearby packed with straw and measured paper cartridges and shots. Another
four field pieces were behind the center line, each had stacks of paper shots
ready to fire.

Each
shot was grapeshot. Wire and threads held the entire package together. A last
minute addition, they had decided to hold the grapeshot in reserve since it
hadn't been fully tested. The exploding shells had been tested but they had
only a few of them.

Perry
looked over his lines and nodded. The general was out there, walking among the
men, clapping them on the arms or pointing out things to do. He nodded. “Good,
morale is high,” he murmured and smiled.

“This
King Art’ur doesn't know what a shit storm he's in for,” Ryans nodded. He
looked up to see a UAV flying out over the battlefield and beyond to the enemy
lines. It dwindled to a distant speck. Max had painted it to look like a local
scavenger. Since the enemy wasn't expecting mechanical flying machines of that
size it should be unnoticed.

“Oh
if we're lucky he's going to get a small inkling as it starts then he'll be out
of our misery for good,” Perry snorted. “We gave him enough advanced warning
with all those spoiler raids we were doing. The Silent Knights gave him a taste
of fire arms a few times so it won’t be a total surprise. But en mass? We'll
see.”

Duluth's
army was slowly forming up; they could see the pennants and crests fluttering
on poles in the breeze. Occasionally one or more would wave. Bowmen began to
pepper the area with arrows, to the jeers of the native Imperium army. Perry
nodded. “They're getting a feel for the range and winds,” he murmured. He
watched as the arrows fell short and then grimaced. “Hell, they could be
falling short on purpose just to make us think they're out of range.”

Ryans
nodded.  “We can't take anything for granted.”

The
imperial soldiers began to bang on metal, chanting and stomping. Some of the
footmen were still armed with conventional swords and shields. They banged on
them. The musket men were behind them, out of sight.

The
musket men were arranged in three cohort boxes of three hundred. Each box was
open at the rear, with just three sides. Each side had three ranks. On the
inside were snipers, a dozen in each. Other snipers were in hides around the
perimeter of the battle line.

The
gaijin archers were broken into four groups. Two groups were arrayed with the
other volunteer archers on the perimeter flanks and on the commander’s hill.
Two other groups were behind the musketeers, ready to follow them into battle.

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

Uuôden
watched the battle unfold and knew it would be his last. He knew, deep in his
core that he'd followed a fool. And what did that say of him, the follower of a
fool? he thought, stroking his braided beard. His hair was clean and neat, he
was ready to meet his maker and his son in the afterlife. There remained but
one more chore to do.

Art’ur
didn't understand how badly they were outclassed. The Imperials had only
brought up half their force but he could see the battle unfold in his mind’s
eye. It would be a good day to die, he thought. His only regret was so many of
his countrymen would fall with him.

He
turned. With so many here he knew his country would be lost. Those that fell
here would not escape back north, not with their way blocked. No, those who
survived this day would flee, flee and hide or keep running until they died.
His country would be taken over by the imperials. He frowned, trying not to
glare at Dominus Fargut as he prepared to lead the troops. Would it be so bad?
Obviously he and the other Dominuses had been terrible. Perhaps... he turned at
the scrape of metal on metal. The King turned, pointing his sword to the
herald.

“Let
loose the dogs of war!” the King bellowed.

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

“Crap,
here comes the dogs of war,” Perry grimaced watching the tiger sized war beasts
lunging on chains at the edge of the field. The giant war beasts were being set
up behind the lines of men.

“Spoiling
charge. He's going to use them up to keep us busy and sow disorder in the ranks
before he charges,” Ryans said quietly watching the six legged tiger sized
beasts roaring and snarling. Most of them were
dogzards
but a few were
porcupine porcines.

“This
is Three, snipers alert. Take those creatures out. Front line kneel! Bayonets
spears and spikes!” the Master Sergeant called over the net.

“Glad
he's on top of it,” Perry nodded then tapped his own throat mike. “This is
Five. Snipers take them out. Target the handlers if possible as well. Remember
what we talked about; try for a side shot into the body. Frontal is all bone
and armor,” he cautioned.

The
beasts were unleashed in a single wave. They rushed across the field, bounding
and leaping. A few tried to turn on their own men, and then were driven off by
pole arms. Two were killed attacking their handlers.

“Starved
to make them even more savage. Foolish really. It makes them harder to control
and less likely to attack a group,” the general murmured watching the animals
bound forward.

One
by one shots rang out across the field. Animals in mid leap exploded or were
thrown to the ground. Only two beasts made it to the line, they were quickly
dispatched by the hedgehog of weapons.

“We
had some leakers. A few went off to the flanks. If the cavalry don't pick them
off I wouldn't want to be alone and unarmed in this neck of the woods for a
long time,” Perry observed.

“Deal
with it later,” Ryans murmured absently.

Perry
had each of the leadership dressed in green, to make them a harder target.
There were nearly fifty Springfield rifles and over nine hundred muskets in the
center line, all ready to fight and die for their country. The rifles were in
the hands of their best marksmen. The flintlock muskets had paper cartridges,
rifled bores and used fulminate of mercury percussion caps in the later models.
“Old Max has outdone himself; he's even managed ring bayonets for both weapons.
Not bad for three months of heated effort,” Ryans murmured softly. Perry
nodded.

Half
the light cavalry had Winchesters or horse bows as well. Over half of the
repeating rifles had only arrived a week ago, built by the capital's best
artisans. Some of the rifles were based on the 1903 Springfield, the old tried
and true World War Two American rifle. Over three dozen were Winchester model
1883 repeating rifles, all in the hands of the cavalry. Horns and drums began
to beat on the Duluth side, returning Perry's attention to the battle.

“What
do you think odds are? Outnumbered two to one?” he asked Ryans.

“More
like three to one. But we've got quality on our side, even if they're green,”
the general answered. He was checking the enemy battle line with a pair of
borrowed binoculars. He wasn't happy about wearing the strange gaijin war
outfit but the new armor was much more appealing than his normal sweat box. “I
love this. And these,” he said. He held up a borrowed radio.

“We've
got our people in the battle line so they can relay orders as needed,” Perry
answered with a smile. “They have orders to stay out of the thick of it and in
command.”

“Odd,
I'd think they would have had a lot more arrows,” Ryans said quietly. “They
were said to be as thick as clouds in battles like these.”

Perry
grunted. “Count yourself lucky.” He nodded to the shield carriers. Every third
soldier in the footmen and bowmen carried a roman style shield. He used it to
cover his countrymen from the enemy archers.

“Duluth
has been laying siege to Duke Emroy for some time,” the general said gravely.
“I believe they can salvage some of the arrows, and some fell into his hands
from the captured armories of keeps nearby, but he hasn't taken the time to
make more apparently.”

“Apparently,”
Ryans nodded. He winced when he caught sight of a few men missing the incoming
missiles and taking casualties. Some were mortal, many were nonfatal
fortunately. That is, if they could get back to Doc and the others before they
bled out. He turned back to the main line just as they reached point alpha.

Shields
glittered in the morning sun. Both sides were using various shield designs,
bucklers for the bowmen and women, larger affairs for the infantry. Duluth was
more haphazard; the men were mixed in and not divided by similar styles of
weapons like the Imperials.

“We
better get a move on before the heat hits,” the general sighed. He took a sip
from a clay canteen. “Water, bah,” he grimaced in distaste. He waved vigorously
to the nearest knight then touched his radio. “Forward elements march.”

The
center of their line began to march forward. The cavalry began to circle out,
like horns. The enemy cavalry immediately went out to meet them. Perry snorted
as he heard a few shots ring out. “That cavalry’s in for a surprise,” he said
grimly. The shots ended.

The
giant animals pawed at the ground and then began to move forward. Like giant
war elephants they were festooned with men and armor. Archers began to rain
arrows on the battlefield. Shields were raised to ward them off.

“Dress
those lines,” the general murmured. The center reformed into a proper box.
“Lances forward,” he murmured. Long pole lances were brought up and pointed out
over the shoulders of the men turning the center into a hedgehog.

“Okay
Scooter, you’re up,” Perry murmured. The Strykers came up from under the tents
and through the lines. They moved to the center of the formation. The lead
Stryker fired off a tow missile, the missile slammed into the lead enemy titan
beast, tearing it apart. It toppled to the ground with a dying groan. The other
animals shrieked in fear and rage as their leader died. A second missile
struck, then a third. A tusk was blown off one of the animals; it spun off into
another animal impaling it. The wounded animal screamed and turned away from
its wounded flank ripping its tethers out in terror. Men tried to control the
terrified beasts but they were too terror stricken to obey. They turned,
opening the center.

The
Strykers pulled up beside the front line as they all stopped. The Duluth
animals rampaged through the enemy ranks, throwing them into disorder. Dust
clouded the area. Men and animals screamed. “Now,” Perry murmured.

The
second group moved forward, the rifle and musket men. They charged forward at
double pace, and then came to an abrupt halt as they reached their mark. “Make
Ready! Aim! Fire!” the centurion in charge ordered, raising his sword. Muskets
flashed and thundered. Enemy soldiers began to fall like wheat. Ryans could
hear the occasional crack of a sniper picking off enemy officers. He didn't
envy the men in all that smoke though. The muskets were terrible, clouding the
entire area with blue and gray haze.

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