Grady looked up and grinned. “What do we have today, boss?”
“Today we check out the research department, and see what new toys they have for the likes of us.” Logan called back. He stood up, stamping his armor into place and stopped, sniffing the air.
“Coffee!” Ryanne was running toward a large silver pot that had magically appeared on a low table in the center of the room. Next to the coffee pot was a neat stack of mugs, a bowl of sugar and a pitcher of cream.
Logan stood staring. Maybe it wasn’t such an impossible dream after all. His hand went to the medallion. “Thank you. That was very considerate.”
“Any time, dear one.” Her voice was soft and intimate. Thank you for last night.”
“You were lonely. I’m your friend. It’s my job to make you feel better.” He knew he’d put his foot in it as soon as the words left his mouth.
“Oh?” He could almost see her smile hardening, in his mind’s eye. “And then it was only a job, as they say?”
“I’m making it my job, Rhiannon, and I’ll be there for as long as you want me.” He winced. He’d put his foot in it not once, but twice in a row.
Her voice held satisfaction. “Done, and out of your own mouth.”
“I couldn’t reconsider my words, could I?”
“Not on your life. Have a good day, Logan.” The voice in his mind grew serious. “Be very careful today, please.”
“I’m always careful, Rhiannon.” Logan looked up to see Aileen’s green eyes watching him over the top of a steaming cup of coffee.
“Did you have a good evening?”
He opened his mouth to say something flippant, but nothing wanted to come out. “Yes, I had an incredible evening.”
She handed him a steaming cup. “Rhiannon said much the same thing.”
He sipped; the flavor of the coffee was rich and deep, the liquid almost hot enough to burn his tongue. Logan frowned at the medic. “She said something to me just now. She told me to be very careful today.” He looked up into sea green eyes. “She knows something we don’t. Pass the word to everyone. Especially the newbies.”
Sergeant Kirby didn’t say a thing when he showed up later; he just poured a coffee, and sipped the hot black liquid with a look of bliss on his hard face. “It must be nice to have friends in high places.” Logan just grinned. “Did you really take a goddess to dinner?”
“She needs to eat like everybody else.”
“Humphhh.” Kirby snorted in disgust. Then his eyes took in the careful preparation the squad was making; the tightening of armor, loosening of swords. “Are you expecting trouble today?”
Logan ran a thumb down the edge of his sword, before slipping it back into the sheath. “It pays to be prepared, my friend. I’ve been warned that there might be trouble.”
Kirby nodded, and motioned to a runner, who had accompanied him. They held a quick whispered conference, and then the runner was out the door and down the hallway at a swift trot, armor jingling. At Logan’s curious look, Kirby explained. “If you are nervous, then so am I. I put the whole army on alert.” He chuckled. “What’s left of them, anyway.” He turned to the door. “Shall we go?”
Research and Development was a cluster of four or five workshops located around a huge central room that was used as a test area. Men and women came and went with busy rushed strides.
“Hectic place.” Logan commented, picking up a crossbow from a table on the test range. It was both bigger and heavier than the weapons carried by his scouts.
“Put that down!” The high scratchy voice said, almost at his side. “You’ll break it.” The researcher was short and thin, with seriously thinning gray hair. He peered owlishly at Logan through thick glasses, and he smelled vaguely of cleaning fluid.
“Weapons shouldn’t be delicate, old man.”
“I don’t care. You shouldn’t be touch...” The balding man’s eyes seemed to bug from his head as he caught sight of Bel’s crossbow. “What’s that?” He followed his pointing arm like a dog following a scent.
“Look, but don’t touch.” Logan sometimes had a mean streak when it came to payback. “It’s delicate.”
“This has to be a toy.” The technician declared emphatically, his nose a scant inch from the weapon. “It’s too light. And too small and...”
“Show the skeptic, Bel.” The scout was grinning broadly. She raised the weapon, loaded and fired all in one smooth motion. Across the test range, the quarrel pierced a four inch oak target and sank to its flights in the nearby wall. The last they saw of the short technician, he was running across the test range with a surprising speed that belied his age.
Bel looked smugly satisfied as she put her crossbow away. “Was that about what you were looking for?”
“Perfect, Corporal.” Logan winked. “Absolutely perfect.”
The best demonstration, Logan found out quickly, was yet to come. On another side of the field a heavy stand was in place, and on it was clamped a long hollow green tube. When Logan tapped it with a fingernail, it rang with a soft clink.
“Metal?” He asked a technician who was fiddling with a plate of black powder.
“Don’t I wish... This is specially grown crystal. These tubes formed in old volcanic vents, and are very hard to find. They’re almost as hard as stelwood crystal.” The man raised his eyebrows as he saw Bel’s crossbow. “Nice crossbow; I saw your demonstration.” He pushed some powder down the tube, followed by a wad of cloth, followed by a smooth round black seed. The other end of the tube seemed to be clamped shut. “Stand back, please.” He touched a fuse at the rear with a burning taper. The fuse hissed sharply, then their ears were assaulted by a loud boom, and their noses burned by a cloud of acrid yellow smoke. Downrange, Logan could see a neat hole blown through the wood target, three inches from where the crossbow bolt had struck. “I figure that this has about three times the normal crossbow range and power.” He gave Bel a shy smile. “Maybe twice as powerful as yours, with twice the distance.”
Bel looked at the green tube enviously. “I want,” was all she said.
The shy technician had just opened his mouth to reply, when all the bells in the world began to ring. Logan covered his ears with his hands, but he could still make out two distinct sets; one low pitched and throbbing, the other high pitched and insistent.
Sergeant Kirby touched his arm, and shouted. “Attack alarms. Low bells for the Tannhäuser Gate.” When Logan looked confused he explained. “The official name for the Main Gate. The higher pitched bells are for an attack warning on the back gate. I’ve got to go.” He cursed. “It’s too bad it’s so damn far to either gate.”
Logan grabbed the man’s arm. “Maybe I can help there.” He waved his squad closer. “It’s like this!” He shouted to the men and women. “The front and back gates are being attacked. Bel, you and Tiana are going to the back gate. Stand back and pick off the creatures as they come through. If it gets too tense and you can’t hold them, then run.” He turned to the rest of the squad. “Get ready, boys and girls. I’m going to drop us into the middle of it.” His eyes swept the men and women standing in front of him. “Take care of yourselves and of each other.” His eyes stopped on the scouts. “Ready?” Two nods.
Logan led the way to a darkened workshop, Kirby following close behind, a puzzled look on his weathered face. Logan stopped for a moment, recalling the exact location of the back gate in his mind, and the long corridor that led to it. He nodded briefly to the scouts and opened a door through shadow to the back gate. Bel and Tiana cocked their crossbows, nodded briefly to Logan and were gone.
“What the bloody frozen hells!” Kirby swore. “You never told me that you could do THAT! You just led me to believe that it was all the Councilor’s doing.”
Logan shrugged. “You didn’t need to know.”
“I’ll give you a bloody need to...”
“Shall we go to the fight, and save the argument for later?” Logan was grinning.
The sergeant’s
face was red with anger, but he was loosening his sword. “Yes, bloody hells. Let’s go fight. I need to hit somebody.”
Logan opened the second doorway, and stepped through into a nightmare. They were lucky. The opening doorway caught three Zzzkntti warriors, slicing them apart as easily as a knife passes through warm butter. That gave Logan’s people all the time they needed to step through and start swinging their swords.
The floor grew slippery with blood, both red and green.
“We can’t kill them fast enough to stop the flow!” Grady shouted to Logan over the din of battle.
Logan studied the mass of surging bodies with dismay. The black armored squad had prevented the humans from being swarmed under, but now they were barely holding their own, and even slowly being pushed back. The supply of fresh Zzzkntti seemed endless. He blocked a club that would have brained him, and took off the two green arms holding it. The creature fell to the floor in a great fountain of blood. Stabbing it again for good measure, Logan turned to the next monster. He had to do something.
A corridor to the side was just a little calmer than the one at the heart of the fighting, and he was able to catch his breath. Using the trick Rhiannon had shown him before, he concentrated on the ground between his feet, and soon he was able to recognize the ruins that concealed the front door outside. The ground was alive with hundreds if not thousands of Zzzkntti, waiting to enter, and Logan didn’t hesitate. He raised his foot and stomped. The floor shook. Then he stepped again, and again, and again until nothing moved outside the crushed gate. Dust was drifting down from the ceiling of the tunnel as the tremors subsided. Then he swung his distant gaze to the back door. He found it by looking for a mass of crawling Zzzkntti.
He had just closed the back gate, when green arms jerked him off his feet and slammed him against the stone wall. If it hadn’t been for his most excellent armor, he knew that he would have been dead. As it was he just managed to raise his sword to block a club strike to his head, his reverse cut took the monster behind the knee. The thing went down with a howl, which Logan silenced quickly when he found the thing’s neck. Standing, Logan discovered that his shield was hanging by his now useless left arm. Green arms grabbed for him and he swung a block with his sword, more out of reflex than anything else, and the creature screamed, spraying him with its hot bitter blood.
There was a buzz and a chunk. Then another, then another. When a running Zzzkntti stumbled and fell at his feet with a crossbow bolt through its eye, a little light went on in Logan’s tired brain.
“Well met again, Bel.” He leaned on his sword and managed a weak grin.
The scout reached down and calmly pulled the bolt from the creature’s brain, wiping it quickly before replacing it in her quiver. “You forgot to shut the doorways. After you collapsed the back gate tunnel on the remaining Zzzkntti force, there wasn’t very much for us to do, so we came here.” She gave a dry laugh. “The R&D folks are really quite happy with you for leaving the doors open. A few Zzzkntti managed to get up enough courage to step through, and when we left, the technicians were having a field day trying out all their toys on live targets.” A cluster of city guardsmen ran by, mopping up the remaining Zzzkntti. Bel looked down on his left arm and winced. “You know, your bone isn’t supposed to stick out of the skin like that. You might want to get it looked at.”
Logan took off his battered shield and dropped it on the floor. “Let’s get our people home first. I’ll bet that there is more than a broken arm to worry about.”
Bel picked up the dented shield and motioned to Tiana. “The doorway is over here, Logan. We can close them on our way out.” She put her arm around his waist and led the way.
It was a sorry band that he transported to the great hall Rhiannon had prepared for them on Medin. Of the fifty new recruits, nine had been killed and eighteen more injured. Of his own ten; Lucas, one of the new pair of brothers had been killed, and Caera Nunan, the ex-teacher, had lost her left arm. All the rest, every one, were injured to a greater or lesser degree. Except, of course, for the scouts, whose timely entry into the battle had saved countless lives.
Aileen put a crude sling around his injured arm until she could set it properly, and so that it wouldn’t flop into people as Logan staggered from person to person. Women and children huddled together with scared looks on their pale faces, while their husbands tried, and often failed, to look brave and confident. Logan did what he could to reassure the crowd, and sent the wounded to Aileen for treatment.
That was the way things stood when the goddess arrived. Aileen looked up from helping a wounded guardsman to watch her. Rhiannon looked serenely over the throng of people, but when her eyes lit on Logan, her shoulders sagged with relief. With a single touch here, and a kind word there relief seemed to flow from her like ripples from a thrown stone in a pond, as she worked her way toward the battered man. The medic blinked in surprise, as across the room Selene was doing the same thing. Children smiled and slept at her touch, and she comforted the families of the fallen with soft words and warm hugs.
Logan looked up from his quiet talk with Max to find Nan’s eyes on his face.
“I thought I told you to take care of yourself.” Her voice was strained.
Logan sighed, and leaned against the back of a chair. “I did the best I could, Rhiannon. There were too many of them, and they came at us too fast. Damn that was a clever attack; well-coordinated too.”
She reached across him to unbuckle his armor, and he sighed in relief. “Let’s get you out of that smelly armor, and I’ll see to your arm.” She pulled back the loose bandage and winced. “You should have had Aileen fix that arm. It’s serious.”
“Others needed her help first.” Logan explained. “They need me now.” He staggered and she held his arm.
“They don’t need you now. Selene is here.” Logan was surprised. “I think you’ve brought out the maternal instinct in her, too.” Rhiannon was looking softly at her sister, who was kneeling at the moment, holding a weeping child to her breast. The expression on her face was unreadable. “We should go now, dear one. You’ve done enough for one day.” As they walked toward the door to the room a white light seemed to envelop the both of them, and when it faded they were gone.
Chapter 9
Sergeant Kirby was having a hard time not staring at Logan’s newly healed left arm. Finally Logan gave up trying to have an intelligent conversation with the man, and rolled up his left sleeve.
“There!” He held out the healed arm for inspection. “Take a good look.”
Kirby blushed, but looked. “I don’t even see a bloody scar.” He touched the skin with a finger. “She did that?”
“Yup.”
“Too bad she couldn’t do the same thing for the rest of us. Some of my boys got pretty chewed up, you know. It’ll be a while before they’re ready for action—if ever.”
Logan nodded knowingly. “Yeah, it’s too bad.” He bit his tongue. “By the way, how is your arm?”
“It’s feeling a little better.” The sergeant held up an arm that had been bandaged from elbow to shoulder. The dressing was stained red from the man’s blood, and he frowned at the damaged member. “As a matter of fact it feels real good.” He started pulling at the dressing, dropping sodden red strips on the floor. Soon nothing remained but pink healthy skin. Kirby stared in surprise at what had, until just recently, been a gaping, bone deep wound.
Logan slapped the stunned man’s back. “Well, well, well. It looks as though you’re just a fast healer, Sergeant.”
The gray haired man’s face went red and then white, and then back to red. “How the hell?”
“One of the perks of working for a goddess.” Logan winked.
“The others?” Kirby waved his hand at the others in the room.
“They should be better now, or soon will be. There were a lot of injured people t
o take care of, you know.”
“And the fallen?” Kirby’s voice was a whisper.
“Sorry.” Logan felt the big sergeant’s pain mirroring his own as he replied. “Rhiannon can’t bring back the dead.” His eyes swept over the big room, clusters of people here and there talking quietly, lamps dimmed to cast a warm golden yellow light over everything.
“I didn’t think so.” Kirby’s voice was low. “How about that little school teacher of yours, the one that lost her arm?”
Logan shrugged. “When your arm is torn off and eaten by a big green thing, there’s not much chance...”
He stopped what he had been about to say.
The voice in his mind hesitated.
“What!” Logan shouted. Heads around the room turned, and Kirby jumped.
“Some comment from the goddess?” The grizzled soldier asked.
“No. It’s someone else I’m dealing with right now.” Logan growled back.
“I think it’s time.” Kirby’s voice was hard. “Gunny MacKennit, or whatever the hells you are, to have a nice long chat about a few things; the first being—I’d like to know just who or what the seven bloody Hells of Katar I’m dealing with!”
The Darkness at the Edge of Noon: a Thalassia novel Page 10
