Ancient Kings (The Young Ancients)

by P. S. Power

  Finally someone spoke to him on the communications device. It was Connie, though Alphonse was right there too.

  "Hello? This is Queen Constance, we're under attack. The city is under attack. The weapons seem to be of... Austran design, but that hasn't been confirmed. The palace shield is up. We request aid, if at all possible." She sounded scared and regal at the same time. A tiny, very inappropriate, feeling of warmth for her touched him for a moment, until his lips started moving again on their own.

  "This is Cordes. I mean, Tor. We have forces coming. We'll get word to the flight base and the people at Wildlands. Help is coming. Estimated time... twenty-six minutes." Then almost without warning Tor was in control again. There was a sense of apology from the Ancient King at least, if not a real one.

  "Ali! I need my Carriage, do you still have it?" She ran to him her right hand coming out, setting the thing up, a large purple rectangle soon, only to find others doing the same. It was strange, but several people ran up to them then and started climbing on board. Out of all of them only Ali was really familiar to him at all. He nearly ordered her to stay, but then stopped and stared at her for a few seconds. He didn't want her in battle, but she was an adult. Married and everything.

  "Ali, would you stay here? We could come under attack. I know that it might seem like I'm saying you aren't ready for war, but it isn't that, as much as..." How did he explain it to her? There wasn't time to say what he really meant, was there? "It's that I don't want you to die, really. Not that I want anyone to, but that, thinking you were in danger, would be too much for me. I have to be able to fight without worrying about you too much."

  It sounded lame to him, but there was a somber nod from her then and she just leaned in for a kiss and then climbed out, not saying anything. He was, no doubt, going to have some issues there in the future. It was his job to protect her, but it was hers to make certain he wasn't an overbearing jerk about it. He kind of feared he'd just missed that mark somehow.

  The trip was tense. Worse than he would have imagined by several times. Especially when they finally approached the Capital itself. There were indeed rockets still occasionally bombarding the place, coming from the south and east at the same time. There was no battle line that he could tell, the lines of fire and light seemed to be coming from four separate areas. They were very clear cut as to what they were, the things coming and leaving long white streamers. It was still dark out, though the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Men and women from the city were out in that direction in loose groups, desperately trying to reach the attackers. They were hit with rockets themselves occasionally, dying as they ran, desperately trying to save their people.

  Tor realized a minor flaw in the craft he'd built then. They didn't have weapons of their own at all. He had some on him, but nothing that could be used without slowing down so much that these people on the ground could hit him. What could he do though?

  Turning in place he looked back at the scared faces with him, half of them girls that seemed so out of place it was a horrible sight. He'd have been better off with Ali by far. The rest of the kids were males, but looked to be the soft and pampered sort. One of them was the ringleader of the group that had humiliated his little sister in public by dumping a jug of piss on her head. For that matter he was nearly certain the girl that had actually done that part of things was back there too.

  Singers, he thought.

  Still, they'd gotten on the craft to go to the war, hadn't they? They weren't even armed, he didn't think. That took real courage. That or monumental stupidity. They wouldn't know which until the day was over though, most likely.

  "Everyone hang on. I'm going to ram one of those platforms. Then we'll need to get off and fight. Please tell me that everyone here has a shield on?" He waited for at least one of them to have forgotten, but no one said anything. A brief check showed that, by some part of fortune, they were all covered. He nearly cried, it was such a happy thing. "Good. Don't get hit by a missile if you can help it. The shields are decent, but that will still kill you. Once we start fighting, I want everyone to keep going, understood? Don't stop until the enemy is taken out." He liked how it sounded, brave and all that. He doubted it would look that way. He just had to hope that, if it worked, some of the others would see and do the same thing.

  The Fast Carriages had many admirable traits, one of which was a by-product of what they were made out of. They were basically a shield, if one made visible. That meant that as he hit the funny looking metal wagon that carried the projectiles, the people on board weren't instantly killed at all. Thrown around, sure. That couldn't be helped, but between the craft and the shields they had on, they lived.

  In Tor's case he was almost certain that survival was with mild spinal damage from being whipped about, but other than the piteous moaning from the seats behind him, no one complained, after the craft stopped, about ten seconds later. Then he had to right the thing and move it back into place. It left a vast line in the ground, dug out with such force that dirt was still falling from the sky fifteen seconds later, but the vehicle was fine.

  "Get ready to attack. Be aware of your surroundings and remember, just because these rockets are down, that doesn't mean there are no threats left. I'm going to drop the craft as soon as I stop in three... two... Now!" He didn't explain what he meant, but there was no way that he was leaving his Fast Carriage open to all the people trying to escape. For one thing they made too good of a weapon.

  It took an artful grab to make it all work, the sound of screaming and explosions suddenly hitting them as the vehicle vanished from around them. He lashed out with his right hand and could have kicked himself for not having a weapon ready to go. There were men, all wearing red uniforms with white trim that made them seem almost like the city guard. They weren't, it was clear. That was probably just to confuse things then, to make anyone seeing them set things up near the Capital leave them alone. It was actually a good plan, if not really needed. It was still dark out after all.

  There was only one man left standing, an older fellow that looked to be at least forty, and a bit angry as he ran at the pile of school kids that had just taken out the rest of his unit. It seemed to be about thirty or forty people that were down, a lot of them dead from the impact and flying debris of the craft hitting the heavy wagon with the rockets. Some of them had exploded too, he thought, but after they'd impacted.

  That would explain why the air smelled like roast pork at least.

  Tor didn't have a weapon in his hand, and neither did any of the people with him, but the man that came for them seemed to only have a force lance, and not a high end one either. He was waving it around as if he expected it to do something, but other than pushing some dirt up it didn't. Even that wouldn't have been visible, except that, he realized, he was perceiving everything from the fields around him. It was almost like he could see it all, but in a slightly fuzzy and blue-white way.

  Interesting.

  He ran toward the man that came for them, not bothering to yell, since the other fellow was doing a good enough job of that for both of them. It turned to a scream when his foot hit the bigger man squarely in the groin. With a shield on it had to feel like his manliness was being hit by a solid metal bar. It worked though, since the other man wasn't armored at all.

  "We need to take out the other wagons..." He yelled this into the night, even though the others were still acting more than a bit shocked by the whole thing. They weren't fighters after all and that any of them had done more than just crying was kind of a miracle.

  "I..." This came from a tall dark haired girl who sounded pretty scared. Her voice hardened though, almost as if she were suddenly someone else. "There. The others saw what you did." She pointed at the site of another explosion. The roar was a lot louder from the outside, even if it was nearly a quarter mile away. The Fast Carriage had been dark, but it was the only thing it could have been. He wasn't able to really feel it, but he knew about what was happening.
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br />   The others did too, since the streamers of white smoke that glowed in the night stopped from the other two locations. One of those exploded too, but without the sound of a craft hitting it. Someone had done something else then. That left the one closest to them on the left. If the people were smart, the enemy attackers, they were running for their lives.

  "We have one left. You stay here and guard this man, check him for weapons and see if anyone else is alive. Um, here." Sliding a multi-amulet off Tor handed it to a younger looking boy, or at least a shorter one who was actually watching the dark, just in case more attackers came. That had to be a good sign, right? "This has a healing amulet on it. Some other things too, but nothing that will help yet. I want you to try and fix any enemy soldiers that you can. The rest of you take them prisoner. Don't abuse them. We need to try and get information from them if possible. I'm going to go see if I can catch the last wagon."

  That turned out not to be needed, since someone else found it a few seconds later. Another of the carriages hit it, he guessed, from the distinctive and fear inducing roar of the whole thing. It was confusing, but Tor figured he wouldn't be needed there. The boy was doing his part though, and after a few seconds it was clear they were going to have some prisoners.

  "Change of plans then. I'll stay here." Digging out his very colorful weapon from his side he held it on the downed men, ready to kill any of them that didn't cooperate. Not a lot were left alive though. After five minutes or so it was pretty clear they only had three that were going to make it.

  It seemed to take forever for the idea to dawn on him, but he needed to get in touch with the Palace, so they'd have an idea of what was going on. He rolled his eyes and made a face, since it was pretty clear that he was the only one that knew what he was doing at all in the situation. For his group at least. One of the newly healed men tried to grab the first girl, and did it pretty well, except for the fact that she had a shield on, so the attempted rear choke hold didn't do much at all.

  "We all have class eight shields on. Stand down and go sit, or I'll use this weapon to kill you. No talking. Do it now, or die?" It came out sounding too weak, and the man tried to run instead of complying. Without even thinking about it, Tor hit the fifth sigil on the white focus stone in his hand, with its single little nick on it. The man imploded with a sickening crunch of bone and died instantly.

  It left him feeling a little ill, but he'd killed before. A lot now. He was ready for it.

  "He was warned." This wasn't for his people, but the other two sitting on the ground. The older man and the woman that looked to be a noble of some kind. She was tall enough at least. Six-six or so. "You two are prisoners now. Do as you're told and you won't be harmed. Attempt to hurt my people and die." Or try to run away, obviously, but he didn't add that part. They probably had that one down.

  "Excuse me, um..." He was looking at a tall boy with blond hair, one that looked familiar. The guy that had set up his sister for that dirty prank? Tor thought so, but the first name escaped him. He was Mark from the Lairdgren Group's brother though, so that would mean he knew the last name. If he had the right person. "Sorenson. On my right hip in the little bag, there's a communications device. Please pull it out and hit the top name sigil." It just said Capital, but it was actually the one to get in touch with the Palace.

  It was a bit awkward, and it was clear that the boy was shaking enough that his sweaty fingers almost dropped the slick device a few times before he managed to do anything useful. Then they waited, quietly. After all, there almost had to be other forces waiting there, in the night. They needed to be able to see...

  Well, that was doable. The easiest way would be to use his hand light, but the entire field needed it. That was at least a mile across. Taking up his Carriage and making it glow a bright white would be the most effective thing to do, except for the fact that he didn't want to leave the prisoners alone yet. Not with a bunch of kids watching them. They might decide to beat them or something, which would probably end in death. They were scared and worked up, and that kind of thing almost had to happen, even with professional troops.

  "Tor?" The voice on the device was that of Smythe of Westend. Before he could say more the tall boy answered holding the device up to his mouth a bit and whispering.

  "No, this is William Sorenson. We... destroyed one of the battle wagons. We have two prisoners. I think the weapons have been stopped, but..." He looked at Tor, going wide eyed then. "Wait, you're Tor?" For some reason that seemed to make him more nervous rather than feeling comforted.

  "Yes. Smythe? I'm going to light up the field out here, all of our people have shields, and most of the others have weapons. I'm with... I think this is mainly the musical section from Lairdgren school. The combat section is out here too and the builders. Keep the shield up on the Palace, please." It made sense to him, but there was a soft growl form the man on the other side of the device.

  "It's back up. I'm outside of it right now. Do we know what kind of forces are backing the attack?"

  "Not yet. I'm going to get back in the air though. Can you get in touch with the military from your position? We might need the backup." It made sense to him, but there was a gentle laugh from the device in his hand, the older man sounding a bit skeptical.

  "Really Tor? You, needing help? Perish the thought." There was an overtone of sarcasm to it, which seem a bit out of place.

  "Well, you know, you, me and Sorenson here should be able to handle it, but we have a couple of prisoners already, so it might be a problem if there are a lot more. We'll at least need someone to watch them all."

  He felt like sticking his tongue out, but no one that mattered would have noticed anyway. He tried to use gestures to get everyone to get ready, and reformed the Fast Carriage, instantly changing the color to a jet black, making it the darkest thing around in the early light. One of the girls clutched at herself and jumped back with a squeak, but the rest were almost professional about it.

  "Prisoners in the kennels. The little cages in the back. It will keep the rest of us safe as we watch. Come on now, we don't have a lot of time to waste." Possibly. They scrambled as if it were life and death though and with a bit of help the prisoners climbed in through the back of the craft, into the clear fronted cells he formed with a few moments thought. Then they were sealed in the same way, the back door vanishing. True, if they were smart and knew how to use such things they could turn the whole device off, but the fact was, most people didn't think that way at all. If they weren't touching the amulet, they didn't believe they had the power to influence magic at all. Not even after seeing others do it.

  It was actually kind of handy at the moment.

  The seats were still soft and comfortable, since having them turn hard wouldn't help anyone at all, would it? He rose about five hundred feet straight up, and then made the top of the craft go completely clear. Most people weren't all that comfortable with things like that, but if anyone was going to have a problem with it, they were keeping their concerns to themselves. Then Tor made the bottom of the thing glow as bright as the sun, turning huge swaths of land under them, mainly flat and brown in this area, suddenly light up.

  The people they were looking for where out there too, in vast battle lines, not moving. There had to be thousands of them, all staring up at the new sun in the sky, many trying to shield their eyes.

  "Smythe? It looks like we have about ten thousand or so soldiers on the east of the Capital. I can't tell how they're armed..."

  A small boy pointed, actually pushing past Tor to do it, he had pretty common dark brown hair and smelled a bit like tension and fear. The dark hand he had extended waved a bit.

  "There! They have one of those death wagon things with the...rockets? No... more than one... Let me count." He did it out loud as if it would help keep things clear.

  "Ten... They have ten of them...sir."

  Smythe sounded less than pleased at the news.

  "I see. Have they set up a flanking position?
"

  No one said anything, all of them just looking at each other for a bit, not understanding what that meant at all. Cordes supplied the information, making Tor move the craft for a bit, so that he could see to the sides.

  His own voice shifted greatly then.

  "All clear, for now. That doesn't mean they don't have people already inside the walls. It isn't as if the city has been closed off to traffic. It's what I'd do, if it were me. But on the outside there's only the one force visible." His own voice sounded hard and firm then, commanding instead of just as scared at the others with him. "We can handle this out here for now Smythe. Can you protect the city?"

  There was a moment's hesitation, but a cleared throat broke things up, making Tor's hand vibrate a little.

  "I believe we can. The city guard is with us and about half of the Royal Guard came with me, as well as some military men on leave. It isn't the force I'd have built, but all brave people. It gives us about two hundred men and women, about two thirds of them heavily armed."

  "Understood. We have about half that out here, but all very well shielded. The Songbirds and I will coordinate communications, so if you see..." He looked around and spoke out loud, which had to seem insane to the others with them. "Tor, do these kids have magical clothing and flying equipment?"

  It had to seem like he was losing it then, but Tor cast his mind out, still in just about the right state for that kind of thing, even with the gut wrenching tension that should have possessed him. It really wasn't. He did wrest control of his mouth back, almost feeling a little petulant however.