Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights

by Lawrence White

  Chapter Seventeen

  Havlock called Atiana, Galborae, Sergeant Hawke, and Sergeant Kori to a private meeting a few days later.

  He started with Kori. “Is your new position working for you?”

  “It is, sir. It’s working for the locals as well. I believe the knowledge I’ve imparted has had a material impact on health conditions everywhere I’ve been.”

  “Very well,” he said, nodding. “Have you found any additional medical people who can join you?”

  “I’ve found three so far. Sir, I have to tell you that Milae has become an integral part of what I do. Healing is a very personal thing, and without her, most locals would not accept my services. With that in mind, any other medics I bring into this will need to partner with a local as well. Milae has several candidates in mind.”

  “These medics you’re talking about can communicate appropriately with the locals?”

  “Yes, sir. Major Lebac has been very supportive at freeing them up for training and evaluation.”

  “Get him their names and he’ll reassign them to you. I think it’s appropriate that we start referring to each of you as Healer rather than Sergeant. I want you to continue accompanying Queen Atiana on diplomatic missions to the kingdoms we visit, but we’re starting to move faster. You might not have time to go to each one, or you might make the introductions, then leave someone else behind to train the locals. You have a free hand in determining your schedule.”

  His gaze shifted to Hawke. “I’d like to go with them, but I can’t be in two places at once, and it’s more critical that I go with the caravans to test our new tactics. I need someone to go with them to represent me.”

  Hawke wasn’t a mind reader, but Havlock’s meaning became clear to him with just a little thought. “Sir? I’m a sergeant.”

  Havlock shook his head. “You’re a lot more than that, just as Kori is a lot more than a medic. You have a real knack for communicating with these people. You’re better than me and better than anyone else in my command. Will you do it?”

  Hawke’s brow furrowed as he adjusted to a new relationship with his commanding officer. “You can just order me, sir.”

  “I know, but this time I’m asking.”

  Hawke looked to Galborae. “How about you? You speak the language and you know our mission.”

  Galborae shook his head. “It needs to be one of you sky knights. You know that. Colonel Havlock and I already had this discussion. You won’t go as Sergeant Hawke, you’ll go as Teacher, the Sky Lord’s special emissary.”

  “I want you to take the long view on this, Sergeant,” Havlock added. “I’ll join you when I can, but even when General Stymes gets here with the rest of the unit, we’ll still have a lot of kingdoms to visit. The people of Tranxte need a mentor, someone who knows and understands the issues for both sides, and I think that person’s you. I want you to figure out what works and teach the rest of us as we go.”

  “That’s a heavy responsibility, sir.”

  Havlock nodded. “It is. I’ve seen you in action. Tell me it doesn’t excite you.”

  Hawke considered Havlock’s words. “Actually, it does. A lot. But I like flying shuttles too.”

  “You and the Kori will share a shuttle. That’s how important this is to me. You’ll be in command as my personal representative. As Teacher, you’ll have a full crew and squad who answer to you. Your mission is to escort Queen Atiana and our Healer as you introduce the Empire to provincial capitals. You can fly when it suits you provided your primary mission doesn’t suffer.”

  “Sir, lieutenants lead squads. How can I be in command?”

  Havlock rubbed the stubble on his chin. “It’s unorthodox, I know. Your title of Teacher places you outside the normal chain of command. I envision the Teacher and the Healer working as a team whenever they can. Both of you report directly to me. Your squad leader has already been briefed and is on board with the plan.”

  Hawke’s jaw dropped. “Sir?”

  Havlock grinned. “I wouldn’t have offered you the job if I didn’t know you’d take it.”

  * * * * *

  Atiana sat astride her gorlac outside the gates as Havlock’s caravan departed the kingdom of Baeloc d’Tricor. She rode up beside him and stopped, their knees brushing. “Safe journey, Sky Lord,” she said gravely.

  “Safe journeys to you, as well,” he said. “Today marks a new phase in our fight against the gleasons. We’re spreading out, and if all goes well, we’ll continue spreading out until we cover the whole planet.”

  Her eyes took on a distant look as she reflected on the world she had seen from the shuttle during her several trips to and from the transporter. “A daunting task if ever there was one. You’re the right man to make it happen.”

  He grinned, ten years falling from his normally stern demeanor. “Your province has been our training ground, and we’ll get better as we go. I’m counting on you to find time from your provincial duties to introduce us to other kingdoms.”

  She nodded. “It shall be so, Sky Lord.”

  He sobered. “It’s Gar, My Lady.”

  Her head inclined solemnly in agreement, though the twinkle in her eyes belied that solemnity. “I’ve not forgotten your name.”

  A private look which had become more frequent passed between them. He reached for her hand and she gave it to him, first removing her riding glove while staring into his eyes. He removed his own glove and lifted her hand to his mouth. “See you in three or four weeks, M’Lady.”

  He kissed her hand and released it, both gloves went back into place, and they were soldiers again. He took up his reigns and broke eye contact, pulling his gorlac around and cantering toward the front of the caravan.

  He’d already inspected each of the 23 wagons and the train of spare animals following it. Four wagons carried heavy, concealed weapons. These weapons could pop up to a considerable height when necessary. When activated, the weapons tracked to whatever the gunner was looking at and fired on command.

  The rest of his marines sat astride gorlacs, though several scooters patrolled at a distance. This was a new caravan, and none of the traders had experienced fighting gleasons on the road. They had all received training on the new weapons and tactics, and they were dressed in the unpopular marine uniforms. Overhead and out of sight, a shuttle kept watch on a wide area around and in front of the caravan.

  This particular caravan, led by Trader Markesan, carried trade goods, but its principal purpose was to pick up a sorely needed load of salt from the mines of Zobar. Prior to the caravan’s arrival there, Atiana and Hawke would alert King Envaeg to the impending visit.

  Gleasons in ones and twos attacked almost immediately but were quickly taken out by nearby marines. Havlock, knowing some of his marines were new to the road and more than a little nervous, reminded them that they needed to draw out the killing for as long as they could. Gleasons needed to communicate sensations of ecstasy to other gleasons within their telepathic range.

  Havlock personally supervised the marine operating one of the holographic projectors during an attack. The young soldier did her best to hide her nervousness as she sent out the image of a marine on the back of a gorlac. Details of the marine and gorlac were so perfect that the traders thought a marine had gone crazy and ridden too far from the caravan. A gleason attacked, and every weapon in range fired on the gleason in an attempt to save the rider. Because of that, the first gleason died quickly, though a lot of shots went wild and Havlock wondered if some of the traders would have killed a real rider as well. He passed the word to unbelieving traders to hold their fire the next time. His marines purposely took longer to kill the next gleason, and with growing confidence they let the next gleason leap for its final attack before killing it. Whether the image fooled the gleason or not, no one knew, but it definitely fooled the traders.

  The caravan quickly settled into the routine of the road. The traders remained nervous and anxious, but they seemed happy to be back to their old rou
tines. Trader Markesan, in particular, reveled at the freedom after months of confinement within the city, not even complaining at the frequent downpours.

  Havlock, studying the sky through his visor, noticed a second shuttle circling high overhead. His visor informed him it was Hawke’s shuttle. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

  Hawke answered instantly, clearly in the net with the pilots or maybe even piloting the shuttle himself. “Queen Atiana’s request, sir. She wants you to have extra coverage for the first day or two while you work out the kinks. We’ll get to Zobar in plenty of time.”

  “Hmm. Tell her I said we’re fine and to get back to work,” Havlock replied sternly.

  “Uh, sorry sir. Even you’re not brave enough to tell her that. I’ll let her know you’re well.”

  Havlock shook his head and sighed, but a smile found its way to his face.

  Gleason attacks intensified each day, though no surprise ambushes materialized, and the shuttle looked hard for signs of activity ahead of the convoy. By the end of the first week, gleason attacks had intensified to groups of threes and fours, keeping everyone awake night and day. Havlock switched out half of his marines in order to give his reserve squad some experience, and the fresh troops underscored just how exhausted his regular troops had become. A few days later he changed out the remainder of the first troops with the rest of the reserves.

  He shuttled to another caravan and experienced the same semi-organized gleason activity. He suspected that meant the gleasons were communicating with each other, so he sent a message to all caravans to expect changing tactics.

  And those tactics did change. Gleasons started attacking in droves, oftentimes coordinated droves. Things were not desperate yet, but Havlock wished he had brought more holographic projectors from Aldebaran I. He had M’Kind sent off another drone with a request for more.

  Timing was everything with the projections. Teams expended every effort to kill the creatures just before they reached the imaginary target. If the gleasons ever figured out that their most enticing targets were illusory, the process would fail. Then it would be back to the drawing boards.

  Galborae, still healing, was shuttling to whomever needed him. At the moment he was in Tricor. He informed Havlock that gleason activity around the city was nonexistent. The growing season had been missed, but farmers had been sent back to the nearest fields to prepare those fields for the next season. A shuttle periodically flew over the farmers from high altitude, prepared to take out any gleason without allowing it the luxury of ecstasy. The message appeared to be getting through.

  Hawke called him at the half-way point. “Sky Lord, I’m in Zobar with King Envaeg. He’s listening in as an act of good faith on my part. We’re seeing lots and lots of gleasons in the area. A fair number of them are bypassing the city in favor of you, but we’re still dealing with a lot of them on the walls. I’m thinking that if we start eliminating these nearby gleasons from a shuttle, there would be no ecstasy for them. If they get the message, they might learn to stay clear of Zobar. What do you think?”

  “I think you’re onto something. I like the idea of a no-gleason zone around every major city. Give it a try. How’s it going?”

  “Queen Atiana and I are doing our best to convince him we’re not keeping secrets from him. We’re off to see King Goragii of Gaedon as soon as we’re done here. I’m thinking a little personal intervention by each of these kings will go a long way with their subjects. Are you willing to entertain them and a few of their soldiers for a few days if I’ve provided initial weapons training?”

  Havlock rubbed a hand across a stubbly jaw. He had not taken the time to shave today, and he would have to rectify that soon. He was, after all, setting an example not only for his own men but for the traders on the caravan. Now it looked like he would expand that example to kings out here on the road as well.

  “Let me check with Trader Markesan, but I think we can do it. Can you get them into a shuttle?”

  “Already done, Sky Lord. We can be there within the hour.”

  Markesan’s eyes narrowed when Havlock told him of the king’s request. “It will go well for me if we’re successful, Sky Lord. Actually, it will go very well for me. It’ll backfire if he gets killed.”

  “We’ll keep a close eye on him.”

  The trader’s lips firmed into a thin line, though his eyes twinkled. “You haven’t met him. I have. He will not hide in the background.”

  Havlock’s eyes rose to the sky in partial defeat, but he understood. “We’ll think of something . . .”

  He left the caravan briefly and shuttled to King Envaeg. When he stepped from the shuttle in front of the main gate, Atiana, Hawke, and an enormous individual he assumed to be Envaeg stood within a double column of six knights. Several of them were accompanied by melds, and each of them held the reigns of a gorlac. Spectators filled the battlements.

  He stepped to Atiana first and bowed, saying, “Your Majesty.”

  “It’s good to see you again,” she replied as she held an arm out to Envaeg. “Sky Lord, meet King Envaeg, ruler of Zobar.”

  Havlock and King Envaeg bowed slightly to each other, then Envaeg reached out a massive hand and grasped Havlock’s forearm. “Your presence honors us, Sky Lord.”

  “We all serve, and at the moment we have only one purpose: to kill gleasons. As you can see from my appearance, I come from the road. I’m told you would like to join me for a few days.”

  “Well said, Sky Lord, and true if you haven’t killed them all yet.”

  Havlock turned to Hawke who saluted him. “He understands the program, Sky Lord.”

  Havlock turned back to Envaeg. “You’re comfortable with your weapon?”

  “Not at all, but I have Teacher’s approval. So do my men.”

  “Very well. Let’s go.”

  Havlock turned toward the shuttle and everyone followed, including the gorlacs. He stopped in surprise and spoke to Envaeg. “You’re bringing your mounts?”

  “How else will I fight the demons?”

  Hawke stepped up. “They’ve ridden the shuttle, including the gorlacs.”

  Havlock frowned for a moment, then looked over the king and his knights. “You will get your chance to fight demons, but not from a gorlac. Not today. Maybe tomorrow or the next day.”

  Envaeg was clearly unhappy with Havlock’s words so he explained further. “It’s not because you’re not good enough. It’s because we’ve developed a process for killing demons, and a lot of it comes from the wagons. I want you to see the most important aspect of what we do, and you need to be in a wagon to see that.”

  Envaeg, still frowning, said, “We understand you’re in command. My men are good at taking orders, but I’m better at giving them.”

  “Understood, Your Majesty,” Havlock responded. “You’ll feel differently when you reach the caravan.”

  Kings and knights tend to be stoic individuals, but these were gleasons they were going up against. Nervous glances passed between each of them as they resumed their way into the shuttle.

  The flight was brief. When they arrived over the caravan, a major gleason attack was in progress. Havlock personally checked everyone’s uniform, kit, and translator device. He singled Atiana and Hawke out. “Surely you’re not going with us?”

  Atiana had expected the question and answered first. “I need to know and understand your tactics. As for Teacher Hawke, it’s important he be seen as a warrior. After all, he’s dealing with kings and knights.”

  Havlock sighed. He didn’t like the logic, but he agreed it was right. His voice lifted to take in everyone. “We won’t interrupt the knights below in the middle of an attack. Instead, we’ll observe from here. I’ll do my best to explain what’s happening, but you’ll understand much better after you’ve seen it from the ground.

  Battles against gleasons did not usually last long. Some 20 gleasons had attacked, all at the same time and from all directions. The caravan had actually ridden into the ambush
with prior knowledge from the shuttle above. Targets and duties had been pre-assigned. Havlock and the observers watched and listened as terse orders flew, sometimes from the local commander and sometimes from the shuttle pilots. Order deteriorated as the engagement progressed, a normal tendency, and by the time the last gleason fell, some chaos had interjected itself.

  “As you can see,” Havlock observed, “the outcome is never certain. You can never let your guard down, and you must respond to orders as best you can. The normal progression of an attack requires more and more individual choices, but never tune out the commanders. I’m certain you can appreciate the advantage of orders coming from the shuttle where they can see everything.”

  “You lost a lot of men,” King Envaeg growled. “I’m sorry. How do you sustain such losses?”

  Havlock made a quick call to the surface, then responded to Envaeg. “We’ve lost two people during this journey, none during this skirmish. You’ll see quite a few injuries, but do not give up if you’re injured. We have some very capable healers.”

  “I saw a number of riders succumb,” Envaeg said.

  “Have patience, Your Majesty. You’ll understand my meaning very soon. Let me remind you that your first duty after joining the caravan is not to fight—it’s to watch and learn. This is as important as it was during your first lessons with the sword. Follow my advice and you’ll be better demon fighters when we’re done. More important, I want all of you to return home.”

  The pilot interrupted. “Sir, it’s now or wait. We’re coming up on another assault.”

  “Already?”

  “Yes, sir. The number of possible targets has increased enormously in the last few hours. My guess is the gleasons know where you’re going. I don’t think they want you to reach the restricted zone around Zobar.”

  “Okay, set us down.” Havlock directed a hard gaze to each of the party. “We’re going right into battle. Regardless of your rank, do not question orders. Do exactly as you’re told until our tactics make sense to you. I need agreement from each of you on this.”