The Bloody Frontier (Pistols and Pyramids Omnibus Book 1)

by Jim Johnson

  She spared a glance for Bennu, who had slung Tjety onto his horse’s back in front of him, and then started moving toward the fort gates. Several horses, loaded down with soldiers and village survivors, were making their way to the fort, though there were a few soldiers and horses down on the ground, and more villagers than she wanted to see wounded or dead.

  To have fought for so long and to have died so close to the fort…

  She shook off the despair that tried to grip at her heart and dug deep into her hekau, which felt like a deep wellspring of strength. With new resolve, she turned toward the gates behind Bennu, riding Heker as hard as she dared.

  A bandit desperately charged toward her from the edges of the perimeter. She cried out as she raised her pistol to shoot. In a surge of motion and a flare from her hekau, she held the reins and Henturu firm with one hand while she worked the deadly pistol with the other. With a steel grip and a deadly eye she never imagined possessing, she shot the man twice. He tumbled out of his saddle and onto the hard ground.

  She barely registered what she had done as she galloped toward the gate, other soldiers and villagers filing in along with her. She reached the safety of the gates, and handed Henturu off to a soldier. Steady gunfire erupted from the walls of the fort. She glanced up. Several soldiers were set up along the walls with rifles, adding their deadly fire to the carnage.

  Bennu rode up to her with a dark grin. “We’ve got most of the survivors in behind the walls, including your Ranger. I’m riding out to see if there are any more to pick up. Want to join me?”

  She stared at him and realized dully that her hands were shaking, one on the reins, the other a vise on the pistol. He noticed and nodded, his expression turning somber. “I got the shakes too, the first time.” He heeled his horse in close and rested a hand on hers, helping her pistol hand to stop shaking so badly. “Stay here. You’ve done enough for one day. You’ve done plenty, Ruia, and a damned fine job of it, too.”

  She stared at him as the tension in her body started to eat at her willpower, her ability to hold back the flood of emotions faltering. She forced herself to breath slow, then found the strength to holster the pistol, now a frightening thing in her hand.

  Bennu nodded to her, then waved to a few of his allies and rode out through the gates.

  Seated on Heker’s back, Ruia stared around the interior of the fort. Soldiers guided her people toward the barracks. Someone called out her name, and then again when she didn’t respond.

  A form moved toward her out of the darkness, and grasped her leg. She looked down and saw Setesk, scratched and bloodied, holding a thick wad of bloodstained linen to his left eye. Now what?

  He looked up at her with a stunned look on his face. “Ruia! You got us to the fort, just as you said you would.” He held her gaze and then grinned. “Didn’t think you could do it, but we made it!” He seemed to realize he was holding onto her, and let go of her leg and stepped back. He shrugged, then said, “I…I guess I’m sorry for what I said and done earlier.”

  She was at a loss for words. She managed a weak smile and a nod. “It’s enough that we made it, Setesk.”

  She nodded, mostly to herself, and then leaned over and rested her cheek against Heker’s warm, heaving neck. “Praise and thanks to all the gentle gods, we made it.”

  CHAPTER 18

  FROM THE TREE LINE BORDERING THE plain outside the fort, Zezago watched as the last stragglers from the fort’s regiment trickled into the fort’s gates. The gates closed behind the last man, blocking off access to the town beyond. The last few constructs staggered toward the fort’s gates and walls, absorbing bullet after bullet hammered into them by the soldiers arrayed along the top of the fort’s palisade wall.

  Some of the constructs fell before reaching the gate, from either taking too much damage or from having their heart scarab blown apart. A couple actually reached the gates, but could do little more than pathetically claw at the unmoving structure before being shot to pieces.

  He watched from the cover of the treeline, and learned. Once he had ridden out onto the plain with his troops, he’d seen that the battle had already been lost. They were too close to the fort. He had moved to the treeline to study the battle, evaluating the soldiers but focused especially on the fall of that Ranger and then his subsequent rescue by that most curious villager girl. She’d ridden out of the fort along with several soldiers, and he was confident he caught the flare of hekau about her. If he had the opportunity, he would get a much closer look at her.

  His constructs, though, their loss was frustrating. He already knew he’d have to work on a new batch, and would need to develop more varieties of scarabs. That would take time and effort, and more slaves. He studied the troops along the fort wall for a while longer, then slipped into the shadows of the trees.

  In a small clearing, the ever-present and erstwhile Qebsenuf had gathered up the remains of his command and had the troops working on cleaning their weapons and getting their horses ready to hit the trail back to the quarry. He looked tired and worn down, but seemed to be the spot of calm in the storm of industry.

  Zezago approached his lieutenant. “Well met, Qebsenuf. I see you survived the battle.”

  Qebsenuf offered a deferential bow. “Master Deshi. I am pleased to see you are also well.” He glanced at his troops then smiled. “We fought hard, but numbers weren’t on our side today.”

  Zezago found a seat on a tree stump. “Indeed. The Ranger did a masterful job of conducting an extended running fight where attrition proved to be our undoing. He and his cohort were able to whittle down our numbers faster than we were able to slow them down. And they managed to get close enough to the fort to benefit from those troops helping them as well.”

  Qebsenuf frowned. “Too true. Had we more men, or more constructs…”

  Zezago raised a hand. “No, no. There is no reason for regrets or recriminations. We didn’t have the volume of force we needed to take this day.” He offered Qebsenuf a slow grin. “However, we have something that they do not have inside that fort.”

  Qebsenuf met his eyes, the puzzle in his mind clearly evident on his face. “And that is?”

  Zezago’s grin widened. “The casualties, of course. We have the raw material we need to start building another cadre of constructs right here before us.”

  Awareness dawned in his lieutenant’s eyes. “Ah, of course. We may not have a lot of living soldiers, but all the casualties on the field can be converted into more constructs.”

  Zezago stood and stretched his sore back, and stifled a cough before taking a deep breath. “Correct. We lost nearly twenty men today and more constructs besides. There are also the fallen troops from the fort and the dead villagers on the field. So many bodies. We’ll take them all back to the quarry and convert them into constructs and then put them to work.”

  “We’d better work fast, then, before the sunrise.” Qebsenuf waved over one of his sergeants. “Gather up a detail and start clearing the field of bodies. See if you can get that wagon fixed up enough for our use.”

  The sergeant bowed low to Qebsenuf, turned fearful eyes on Zezago, and then rushed off.

  Zezago removed his headcloth and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow, then neatened it up and wrapped it around his head in orderly folds. “Once that’s done, gather up the men and make the best time you can back to the quarry. Get the construct process started on the new bodies and make sure the thralls still in camp are working as hard as they can. Now is not the time to ease off production. We have too much to do.”

  Qebsenuf gathered up his gear. “May I ask where you’ll be in the meantime?”

  Zezago signaled for an aide to bring him his horse. “Of course. I have some business to attend in the ruins of the temple beyond the fort. It’ll take me some time to complete. Through tomorrow night and perhaps part of the following day.”

  Qebsenuf frowned. “We have a couple scouts left in the company. I could have them scout the fort…”
/>
  Zezago interrupted him with a shake of his head. “No, this requires my personal attention. There are things I need to evaluate, and it’s best that I handle them personally.” He looked in the direction of the fort, then returned his gaze to his lieutenant. “So you’re aware of the larger picture, I intend to rebuild our company and then, when the timing is right, we’re going to assault that fort and town and burn them to the ground.”

  Qebsenuf’s eyebrows rose up. “We’re going to attack the fort?”

  Zezago nodded. “There are things I need in that ruined sun temple, and the fort and its population are in my way. Anyone we take alive we’ll bend to our needs, and anyone that dies in the process, well…we’ll put them to use as well, won’t we?”

  Qebsenuf furrowed his brow. “Of course, sir. You know I’ll be wherever you need me to be.”

  Zezago nodded again, seeing his lieutenant in a new light. The man was flawed, but he was loyal and damned good at his job. Out here on the frontier, those were qualities in short supply.

  Zezago offered his hand to Qebsenuf, who after a moment’s hesitation, reached out and clasped it. “You’re a fine lieutenant, Qebsenuf, and while I am not regular with my praise, know that I value your being here and I am grateful to have you leading my operation and my troops.”

  The look of wonder on Qebsenuf’s face would have been touching had he been able to be touched, but it was encouraging to see all the same. “I live to serve, Master Deshi. Lead, and I will follow.”

  Zezago met Qebsenuf’s eyes and felt vaguely uncomfortable, and was relieved to see the aide moving toward him with his mare in tow. Zezago accepted the reins and mounted Kubela, settling into the saddle. It’d been some time since he had ridden consistently, and his body was still sore from the day’s riding.

  He offered Qebsenuf a brief salute. “I leave the company in your charge, Qebsenuf. Get them home and get them working. I’ll return soon. Don’t wait for me.”

  Qebsenuf bowed low. “It will be done, Master Deshi. May your efforts prove worthwhile and may the mighty Apep protect you in his embrace.”

  Zezago nodded, then heeled Kubela toward the northern end of the treeline, leaving his lieutenant and company behind.

  As he rode away, he began marshaling his hekau, setting up reserves to tap into later. He ruffled the tuft of mane between Kubela’s ears. “I have plans within plans to enact, some traps to set, and triggers to pull. I’ll need all the resources at my disposal to complete them.” He stared toward the fort, and then nodded.

  “That Ranger and his allies may have stolen victory from this battle, but the war is still very much anyone’s for the winning.” He patted the side of her neck. “And I intend to win.”

  The pieces he needed were moving into place, needing only a nudge here and there. And it would be he who would nudge those pieces and secure victory for himself and his House.

  Pistols and Pyramids #3:

  HOUSE OF THE HEALER

  CHAPTER 1

  SCREAMS FROM HORSES AND HER PEOPLE, wounded and dying, mingled together with gunshot cracks, creating a wall of sound that Ruia punched through as she rode the Ranger’s horse, Heker, hard toward an open plain drenched in moonlight and blood. She rode past the ravaged bodies of her family—ma, da, her brother Paneb—and others from her village. Their faces blurred together, though all their eyes were wide open, staring at her in mute accusation.

  One of the bodies ahead coalesced into the form of the Ranger, Tjety, sprawled out on the ground with tattered tunic and kilt and shattered limbs. She brought Heker to a skidding halt near the fallen man and leaped off, hitting the ground hard with her sandaled feet.

  More cries sounded all around. She rushed over to Tjety and knelt down. She flinched at the fever-heat radiating off him as she cradled his broken head. “Tjety!”

  He groaned, then opened his eyes wide and stared right at her, his mouth slack. She yelled as strange dark spots crawled underneath his skin. Her hekau lurched as malignant shapes streamed from the horrible gunshot wound in his arm and crawled up his neck. The flesh on his face melted away from his skull, faster than she could have ever imagined.

  In a terrifying moment that seemed to last forever, Tjety’s face transformed into a leering death's head with lurid green eyes staring deep into her weary soul. He lifted his head toward her, mouth open wide, closer and closer, the kiss of death grazing her lips…

  …and then a scream tore her out of the darkness. As Ruia gained some renewed sense of self and place, she realized that the scream had burst from her own throat. She sat up in a strange bed in a strange room. She rubbed her hands against her throat. The inside of it felt hot and raw, as if her cry had flayed it to ribbons.

  She coughed, hating the raspy sound. She glanced at the clean linen sheet pulled up to her waist. The sudden chill in the air made her realize that she was naked save for the smallclothes wrapped around her nethers and the small lapis amulet her mother had given her, which swung from its chain around her neck. She clutched the amulet and felt a light pulse that resonated within her hekau. Confused and alone, she stared around the small room.

  There seemed to be no shortage of pretty things on display. Wood-framed pictures hung on the walls, which themselves were covered from floor to ceiling in what looked like red-tinged paper. She had never seen paper on a wall before. Fine linen sheets were laid out under and on her body, and there were soft pillows scrunched up behind her, delicately embroidered with purple flowers. She stared dumbly at the finery. Her entire village working together for a year couldn’t have afforded so many niceties.

  There was a knock at the narrow wooden door. Then, she heard the sound of the latch turning. The door swung open on leather hinges. Ruia had time to let out a yelp of surprise and pull up a double handful of the thin linen sheet before an older woman, elegant in dress and stunning in appearance, poked her head into the room.

  "I take it from the scream that you're awake?" She offered the comment with a gentle smile.

  Ruia swallowed once or twice, trying to work up some moisture in her parched throat. “I'm...I'm fine," she croaked. She glanced around the finely-appointed room. "Where am I?"

  The woman glided into the room and shut the door behind her. She stepped over to a small wooden table upon which sat a light blue ceramic basin and a pair of clean towels. She got a corner of one of the towels wet and brought it over. "Here, lay back a moment." She gently but firmly pushed Ruia back down onto the bed, pressing her head against an impossibly soft pillow. The woman dabbed her forehead with the damp towel. "You were a right mess when Herikhet brought you in early this morning. I could barely tell there was a lovely young lady under all that blood and grime."

  Ruia stared at the woman, taking in her long dark lashes, kohl-lined eyes, and bright red lips and pinkish cheeks, in stark contrast against her light brown skin. Ruia had never worn any adornments on her face save for some kohl against the sun glare, and had never seen a woman with so much decoration.

  "Who are you?"

  The woman smiled, leaving the faintest lines at the corners of her mouth. Ruia suspected she was actually older than she looked.

  "My name is Teteri. I'm the owner of the establishment you’re resting in, hopefully comfortably?" She raised her melodious voice just slightly at the end, inviting Ruia to answer the question.

  Ruia shrugged, then remembered her manners and nodded. "It's very…nice. Though I have to admit I am confused. Why am I here? Where's Tjety, and, oh!" She sat up straight, forcing Teteri to slouch back a bit before their heads accidentally collided. "My friends! Where…"

  She fumbled for the words, and in the middle of it realized the sheet had fallen from her bare chest. She grabbed at the sheet and raised it self-consciously. If Teteri had noticed, she didn't show it.

  Teteri rested both hands on Ruia's bare shoulders. "Now, now. Your friends are in safe hands. Most of them are resting in a large tent the soldiers raised for them. The wounded are at the temp
le, under care of the healer-priests."

  Ruia's mind raced. “Healer-priests? What of Sergeant Bennu, and the others? Will Tjety and Henturu live?” She got it all out in one long gasp, paused, then forced herself to take a deep breath when she realized she was babbling like a child. She still wore the traditional sidelock of youth, but didn’t feel like much of a child any more. Not after the attack on her family’s village and her struggles to lead the survivors to safety.

  Teteri squeezed her shoulders gently. "Hush now. I promise you they’re all fine. You'll be able to see them whenever you're ready to get up and make yourself presentable."

  Ruia clutched the sheet to her chest. "Are you sure they're all right?"

  Teteri stood up from the bed and went back to the small table. She poured a measure of water from a pitcher into a cup, both of which matched the pattern glazed onto the water basin. She brought the cup and pitcher over to the bed, and offered the cup.

  "Drink this." When Ruia gave her a wary look, Teteri smiled. "It's only water. I can get you some wine if you'd like something stronger."

  Ruia accepted the cup and gulped the contents down. She coughed twice at the feel of the cool liquid crashing into her mouth and down her dry throat. She offered the cup to Teteri. "Could I have a little more?"

  Teteri filled the cup, then placed the pitcher on the small side table next to the bed. "Help yourself to all the water you want. I'll have one of my girls bring more later.” She stood up and smoothed her elegant sheath over her ample curves. "I'm afraid you slept through breakfast, but once you’re dressed, visit the cook in the kitchen. I’m sure she’ll have something worthwhile."

  "Thank you." Ruia didn't know what else to say.

  Teteri smiled. "I cannot imagine what you’ve been through recently. We'll talk more, at length. For now, get some rest.” She dropped the wet towel onto the table next to the basin and then paused at the doorway. "I should have asked straight away. I'm sorry, my dear, but what is your name?"