by D L Frizzell
"Niko, Alex," Seneca said, gesturing for them to follow him to a nearby wagon. They tied their horses to one of the wheels and waved in a second squad of horsemen that was approaching.
"Is there any way they can get past us through these gullies?" Seneca asked Niko.
"Not here," Niko answered. “The closest way for them to get out would be half a click south, and about the same to the north."
Captain Hathan-Fen arrived with the second squad and joined Seneca. "Sir, where do you need me?"
"Ride five hundred meters south and work your way back through the gully. I'll do the same from the other direction. Take out any Jugs you see. We’ll be in each other’s sights, so watch for crossfire. Alex and Niko, mind staying here to keep them pinned down for me?"
Niko and Alex nodded.
The soldiers mounted up again and rode in their separate directions. As they rode along the edge of the gully, more soldiers began arriving from their patrols to join Niko and Alex.
Alex confirmed his pistol was loaded while Niko retrieved a Longarm from his horse's saddle. Together they took up a position behind the wagon and waited.
"You ready for this?" Niko asked.
"Hell, yes," Alex said.
A minute later, they heard what sounded like war cries in the gully. A flurry of gunshots sounded to the left of the jugs' position, and then all went silent. A breeze carried the smell of gunsmoke into the air.
Niko advanced to the gully with his rifle shouldered, while Alex stayed alongside him with a two-fisted grip on his pistol. When they reached the edge, the bodies of several dead Jugs, some with their parlo knives still in their sheaths, lined up together
Redland stood over their bodies while reloading his pistol. Each Jug had a hole in the center of his chest. The marshal looked up at Alex and Niko without saying a word. Moments later, the two squads of militiamen rushed up to the scene with their weapons drawn, only to lower them when they saw the fight was over.
Colonel Seneca approached the bodies and saw the bullet holes. "Good shooting," he said. Considering the conversation they had earlier, it was the best thing he could think to say.
"Thanks," Redland said, and finished reloading his pistol. "Better get the undertaker out here, Niko. He’s got a mess to clean up."
Niko waved one of his men over and began giving him instructions.
"Where did you come from, Marshal?" Alex asked. "There were squads coming from both directions, and we had this side covered. It doesn't even look like they had time to pull their blades out before you got them all."
"I came up from behind 'em," Redland said. "There's a few gullies that intersect this one from the other direction. I happened to see where the first shot came from and worked my way around from there."
"That’s it, then?" Alex asked. “We’re done?”
"Now I go get Benac,” Redland said. "Alone." He locked eyes with Seneca. "He’d the final loose end. Once we have him, we can put this whole damn matter to rest."
"Wait a sec,” Alex interrupted. “Benac's not the only one we need to find."
“What do you mean?” Seneca asked.
“None of these men has a walking stick,” Alex replied.
"Jugs don't carry walking sticks?" Seneca asked.
"No, but garden keepers do," Alex said.
"Damn," Seneca said. Alex was right. There were no dead Jovians here.
“This was a diversion,” Niko stated.
“We’d better get a scouting party assembled,” Seneca replied. “We need to stop that man before he gets to the Crumbles."
Redland muttered angrily under his breath. "Do that, and nothing more," he warned. "Heed my words, colonel. If you close the Narrow, you'll spend the rest of your days in Ovalsheer Prison." He walked into the cornfield, where he retrieved Jaeger. With a last angry look at Seneca, he galloped across the plains to the west.
"Those Jugs sure got here fast, didn't they?" Alex asked. "Didn't you say they would take two weeks to get here, Colonel?"
"They must have pushed their horses pretty hard," Seneca figured. He looked down at the bodies. When he turned around to say something, he saw Alex had already headed back to town without them. He looked at Niko, who only shrugged.
"You're not making a lot of friends these days, colonel," Niko told him.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Daigre stood quietly over the carcass of his horse and wiped its blood from his sword. It had been a good horse, a fast runner well-suited for the hard ride he had subjected it to. Rannuk stood nearby, whispering briefly to his horse before slicing its throat with his own blade. It had been the first to stumble and eventually collapse from the exertion they forced upon them. He thanked it for its dutiful service as it bled out.
Only two horses remained of the six they had taken from the other Jugs. They were tired from the run, but weren’t at the same level of exhaustion because they hadn’t been carrying any weight. Daigre knew the Crumbles were near, so they would continue to ride hard until they reached their destination. If their horses lasted the whole way, he decided he would cut them loose. The others had been ridden to the point of fatal exertion, so killing them was a mercy. If he wanted the last pair to last more than a few kilometers, they would need rest.
Daigre and Rannuk saddled the last horses and walked them to a spring of water that flowed from a small crag on the surrounding plain. As the horses drank, Daigre thought about the Jugs they’d left behind. They had dutifully provided a distraction at one end of Edgewood while they made their escape around the other. They were loyal to the end, celebrating the chance for battle. It was as senseless a death as the horses, yet Daigre found himself left with no other options. The city militia had gotten to Edgewood well ahead of them, despite beginning their pursuit days after he left. This suggested the Plainsmen had some method of travel that gave them a strategic advantage. It angered Daigre to have to deal with such unexpected circumstances. This would require further investigation after The Guile’s life was saved.
The grove fire was another matter he thought would need more consideration. It was a fortunate happenstance that delayed the militia and gave Daigre a chance to recapture the lead on their flight homeward. However, the fire seemed curiously timed. He wondered if there were other Jovian agents at work that he didn’t know about. The Guile was known to employ multiple schemes simultaneously, but sabotage didn’t make sense. Part of The Guile’s plan - admittedly this was an assumption on Daigre’s part - was to seize the groves for his own use, as the Jovian Nation had very few places where Mokri trees would grow. It might have been that he intended to cripple the Plainsmen's all-important fuel production if he wanted to beat them on the battlefield. If that were so, why destroy them before his spies returned with their report? It could also be that The Guile had other people like Benac, who cared nothing for strategic objectives and followed only their destructive appetites. At least Benac was dead. He would no longer undermine The Guile’s plans with his own petty machinations.
The hazy sky, a reminder of the fire at Edgewood, obstructed Daigre’s visibility of the Crumbles. He knew they were close, maybe within a few hours if the horses didn’t give out. Once they got there, the difficult climb would begin.
“How many fighters are going to meet us at the Sentinel Bridge?” Daigre asked Rannuk.
“Three hundred, Master Daigre,” Rannuk said. “They have been there for several months, fulfilling the task they were given. They are not accustomed to menial labor, though. They are certain to grow restless if we do not arrive soon and give them tasks suitable for warriors.”
“We will not take much longer,” Daigre said, hoping to mollify any anxiety the Jug overseer was feeling. “We will rest here briefly, however. I want to ride these horses to the Crumbles. It will save our strength for the climb to come.”
“That is wise, Master Daigre,” Rannuk nodded.
“One hour should be enough,” Daigre told him. “After that, we will make haste up the tiers
and leave this wretched territory behind.” Rannuk nodded again and pulled out his bedroll.
The lack of sleep was wearing on Daigre. The weariness he felt from racing nonstop across the span of the Plainsman Territory made him wonder if he should risk lying down. It would be unforgivable to be captured by the Plainsmen simply for oversleeping. Instead of sleep, he opted for meditation. He spread his blanket out and settled to his knees. He found a comfortable position, keeping his walking stick sheathed on his lap. There would only be time to get the barest of rest, just a light doze, but it would have to be enough. Once they reached the plateau at the top of the bridge, he would find a quiet spot and get some genuine sleep before proceeding homeward through the Narrow. He sighed with fatigue and checked his pocket watch. One hour to rest. He wound the watch and put it back in his pocket.
Daigre found his thoughts drifting to childhood memories of the cherry trees in his homeland. They were some of the only Earth trees to survive on Arion. It wasn't surprising; they were bred for adversity on the moons of Jupiter for centuries before being transplanted to Arion with the Founders. He had grown up tending the cherry trees in his father's grove, hoping to take over someday. The day he was recruited by the garden keepers was the first time he’d ever thought of leaving the village of his birth. They promised him a life of honor and service. It would have been a shameful offense to refuse, so his father let them take him. Daigre was only thirteen at the time. His family would likely never see him again.
Daigre realized he was dreaming, so he forced his eyelids open and scanned the horizon. There was nothing to be concerned about. He modified his stance to something a little less comfortable and eyed the horses. They were grazing quietly nearby, further than they had been when he closed his eyes. He looked for Rannuk but didn’t see him. Bothered that the Jug would leave without asking, Daigre stood and walked around the crag to find Rannuk breaking twigs and assembling them into a small circle in a place where he had stomped the grass down.
“You may not start a fire, Rannuk,” Daigre said. “We would be seen.”
Rannuk startled, not realizing he was being watched. “Apologies, Master Daigre,” he bowed. “I am not building a fire.”
“What is it then?”
“A prayer,” Rannuk replied. “I am sending pleas for assistance to the dark sky above where the lords of heaven dwell.”
Daigre looked at the ring of sticks. The grass around them was high enough that it would not be noticed unless someone stumbled upon them. It was crude, he decided, and would not give away their location any more than their dead horses would. “Very well,” he told Rannuk. “Finish your prayer.” He checked his watch. They still had fifteen minutes left to rest, so he returned to his blanket and closed his eyes again.
Rannuk watched Daigre from behind the crag until he was sure the Jovian was not suspicious. Confident he would not be caught unaware again, he went back to the circle of twigs and knelt down. He pulled a small mirror from his shirt and lay it at the center of the circle, angling it to reflect the sunlight straight up. He then produced two halves of a metal ball, each from a different pocket. With one piece in each hand he spread his arms apart and chanted quietly to himself until he heard the sound of scavenger birds circling overhead. Satisfied, he brought his hands nearer and let the two halves attract each other. The halves locked together magnetically, and then shot upwards into the sky. One of the circling scavenger birds swooped in, snatched the ball in its claws, and flew away.
Rannuk smiled. He put his mirror back in his pocket, scattered the twigs into the grass, and returned to pack up his gear.
Chapter Forty
Alex took advantage of the solitude provided by the bunkroom behind Niko's office. He lay on the bed and closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to analyze the troubling emotions he'd been feeling. He began with some relaxation exercises Norio taught him, using them to clear his mind. Yet, as much as he tried, he kept remembering Cale hanging from the operating table on the Celeste. He remembered his own actions at the time, plus his reactions. He felt no guilt for what he did to Benac; in retrospect he could think of no other alternatives. Cale needed to be saved, so why did he keep reliving what happened there? He asked himself the same question about the fire at Maglev Station. No matter what angle he examined the situations from, he couldn't think of anything else he could have done. Still, he felt the situations were unresolved.
After failing to find clarity, Alex decided to employ a different strategy. He thought about difficult situations where he wasn't troubled. The guster came to mind immediately. He thought about the wind, the crumbling city wall, even the lightning at the heart of the guster. The risk of death there didn't bother him at all. He also recalled an accident at the Upright Meadowlands when he was nineteen. One of the workers fell from the cropface of a vineyard bluff and missed the spongebushes at the bottom. It had deeply bothered Cale, but Alex only found it curious. A man was, and then he wasn't. Even the image of his dead body didn't linger in his memory. There had to be something uniquely different in these experiences. Once he figured it out, he thought, he could move on.
There was something else that bothered Alex. The two men he answered to, Marshal Redland and Colonel Seneca, were at odds with one another. They were supposedly on the same side but were diametrically opposed in their solutions. Perhaps they had different perspectives on the conflict, but it was more than that. It seemed more than a personal rivalry, too. They were friendly with each other half the time, and the other half they were ready to kill each other. If they held anything in common consistently, it was that they kept Alex in the dark about what they were trying to accomplish.
The only adult Alex found that seemed truly honest was Niko. Even Norio, his tutor since moving to Celestial City, had secrets. Despite knowing Niko for less time than all the others, he felt more accepted by the ranger. He thought back to what Niko had told him when they were at the grove. Niko told him he would have to talk to Seneca. He was right, Alex decided, except it wouldn't be fair to talk to Seneca alone - he would have to talk to Redland as well.
Colonel Seneca sat in the back booth of the local roadhouse known as the Blue Dot, sifting through his notes while eating a steak dinner. Between bites, he would write down thoughts about the team he was leading to the Crumbles. More of his men had been injured by the fire than he previously thought, so he was trying to figure out how much equipment the remaining men would need to carry. The results didn't encourage him. As he finished his list, Alex walked in and sat across from him.
"May I talk to you, colonel?"
"I'm pretty busy, Alex." Seneca looked up. It was the first time he’d seen Alex look so confused, so he decided he’d better make some time for the deputy. "If you don't mind waiting a few minutes," he said, "I need to finish up some things."
"I can wait."
Captain Hathan-Fen approached with a clipboard, stood at attention, then saluted the colonel. After Seneca returned the salute, she relaxed and took her hat off. “We’ve got a trail on the spies, sir. One of our scouting teams found tracks on the grassland edge of the desert. Doesn’t look like only one person, though. They found the distinct tracks of four horses.”
“Four?” Seneca was surprised. “I didn’t think there’d be that many left.”
“I don’t believe there are four riders, sir,” she replied, “just four horses.”
“Explain.”
“The horses were split up into pairs, and their tracks indicate they were at a full gallop the entire way,” she explained, “but I believe there were only two riders.”
“I’d expect them to be in a hurry,” Seneca told her. “So why bring horses without riders?”
“The paired horses ran in tandem with one another; too closely spaced for their speed.” She held her hands close together to illustrate the distance. “That tells me the second horses were tied to the first ones. I believe they rode their horses hard enough to kill them while keeping spares in tow to ride when
the first ones couldn’t carry them anymore.”
“I see,” Seneca nodded.
“The trail was easy to spot,” Hathan-Fen continued, “They know that we know they're here, so they're trying to outrun us to the Crumbles. When our scouts confirmed that was the direction the tracks were headed, they returned to give me their report."
"The Jovian undoubtedly waited for the Jugs to create their diversion before making their move to the north," Seneca said, He uttered a curse. "They have a pretty good head start on us, then."
"Unless their horses give out," Hathan-Fen said. "Then they'll be on foot."
"They've played it pretty smart so far, captain," Seneca said. "I doubt they'd push their last horses as hard." He handed her the list he'd been working on. "Notify these men that they're going with me. Full combat loadout, plus each will carry a twenty-kilogram pack of explosives."
"Sir?" Hathan-Fen asked, confused.
"I'm leaving you in charge of the troops at Edgewood while I continue on with the pursuit team."
Hathan-Fen stared at the list. "I thought I'd be leading the team, colonel."
Seneca knew that’s she wanted. Though she was competent, and one of the few uninjured soldiers, he needed someone to command the remaining troops in Edgewood while he was away. "Not this time, I'm afraid," he said. "I need you here, captain."
"With respect, sir," she stated. "This is a lot of gear for the men to carry, even if they aren't climbing boulders. You need as many able bodies as you can find."
"Those are my orders," Seneca responded. "Have the supply team load everything up in Ranger Zand's wagon. Prep time is sixty minutes."
She kept looking at the list, though it seemed to Alex she wasn't reading it any more. "Very well, sir." She took a deep breath and pulled a piece of paper from the clipboard and put it before Seneca. "In that case, there's another matter of local importance I need approval on."
