The War Revealed
Page 22
“Yeah, yeah. You people just stay where you are.”
The cop was right to be afraid, Newman thought. Even if he was a better shot than most cops, he’d only wound half the fighters before they took him down.
I shouldn’t think about decapitating cops, Newman told himself. That’s bad.
The one way to guarantee his safety would be to not point weapons at Duchess Roseblossom. But there was no explaining that to a cop.
More flashing lights signaled a convoy coming down the road. Three police SUVs. Two police vans. And, thank God, three ambulances.
The convoy pulled into the parking lot. They parked in a line abreast behind the first police car. The bank of headlights made Newman squint against the glare.
The ambulances stayed behind the police vehicles.
Doors and boots sounded. There were a lot of cops. They were carrying carbines and shotguns. One had a sniper rifle with a bipod. He braced it on the hood of an SUV.
The first cop declared, “Right. You guys are all under arrest for brandishing a knife longer than six inches.”
He pointed at King Ironhelm, his squires, and Newman.
“This is bullshit,” muttered a squire.
Duchess Roseblossom spoke firmly. “Gentlemen. Please cooperate. We need to get past this quickly so we can get medical help. In the morning I’ll have every lawyer in Stonefist’s firm there to bail you out. And it won’t be a bad night compared to where we were.”
King Ironhelm tossed his sword behind him and lifted his hands. The rest followed suit. Newman laid the axe down gently as he could.
Helmeted police officers came forward to cuff them. In a few minutes Newman was in the back of a van going down the road. He’d seen gurneys passing by as he was loaded in, so hopefully this was worthwhile.
“What are we going to tell them?” asked Joyeuse.
The king answered, “We’re waiting for our lawyers to show up.”
“I hope that works on my parents,” quipped another squire.
They all laughed, tension amplifying the humor.
Newman hoped they’d be issued a prison jumpsuit soon. His tunic was stiff with dried orc blood. It itched.
And probably stank, given how the cops reacted. He didn’t notice it anymore.
No such luck. Their in-processing was abbreviated by the word “lawyer”. The cops noticed who liked to stand with whom and broke up the sets.
Newman was sent into the same holding cell as King Ironhelm. The cell held a dozen men ranging from thugs to drunks. The two scanned the room for threats. Finding none, they relaxed.
One young thug stood up from the bench and stomped toward them.
“Hey! Show some respect. It can be dangerous in here.”
Newman and Ironhelm looked at each other, confirming they’d heard right. They started laughing. Full-throated belly-laughs.
Ironhelm kept his back against the wall. As the laughter weakened his knees he slid down to sit on the floor.
Laughing equally hard, Newman kept himself upright by hooking an arm through the bars of the open grill making the door. Tears ran down his face.
Another thug popped up from the bench and grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, homes. Ain’t no green in messing with crazy people.”
About the Author
Karl Gallagher has earned engineering degrees from MIT and USC, controlled weather satellites for the Air Force, designed weather satellites for TRW, designed a rocketship for a start-up, and done systems engineering for a fighter plane. He has, on a few occasions, put on armor and been hit in the head with a stick. His sole moment of martial fame was being one-shot in Crown so efficiently there was a three paragraph write up in the kingdom newsletter. He is husband to Laura and father to Maggie, James, and dearly missed Alanna.
About Kelt Haven Press
Kelt Haven Press is releasing print, ebook, and audiobooks by Karl K. Gallagher. For updates see:
www.kelthavenpress.com
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Other Works by Karl K. Gallagher
Science fiction fans, check out Torchship, a working-class hard SF adventure.
The sequels Torchship Pilot and Torchship Captain are included in the Torchship Trilogy omnibus.