Reign of the Nightmare Prince

by Mike Phillips

  Crenshaw had sent nearly all of his forces in search of the band of natives, keeping only a small guard to protect the camp. Most of the scouting parties had now returned, with the exception of the group Hayes commanded, and none of them had better news than this man did.

  What Crenshaw wanted was the savage in white, the witchdoctor. That witch would be the leader of these people, and Crenshaw knew if he did not find him and conquer him, the natives would start getting ideas above themselves. Fear was his best weapon, a weapon he was unwilling to lose.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we just can’t find them anywhere,” Gerald spluttered, backing away from the looming violence of his commander. “We searched everywhere; but every time we thought we had something, we came up empty.”

  Crenshaw and his men were now camped in a small city, a place with a wall for defense, a few houses of wood and stone above the usual number of glorified huts, and some storehouses that held preserved food and other goods. They were getting closer to the Capital, and the villages were growing in size and stature as they went. Crenshaw had acquired what must be considered a fine house for his residence and office. It had separate bedrooms and its own privy in the back, a nice garden that would have surely been productive if it hadn’t been reaped in haste as the natives departed.

  “So you let a bunch of savages run you like puppies after their tales,” said Crenshaw, eyeing the man for any sign of deceit. The man who had tried to kill him had been one of Jones’s men, too. None were above suspicion. Sighing heavily, letting his anger fall away, the Colonel said casually, “So where’s Captain Jones, then?”

  Gerald stood erect, his face displaying only misgiving. “He’s on his way, sir. We were delayed, following another track, and he won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

  In a kindly tone, Crenshaw said, “There’s some decent chow down in the long stone building near that burned out park. The savages didn’t take everything with them when they ran. Be careful, though, can’t be too sure what you’re allergic to.”

  “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.”

  “Oh, and don’t drink the water from that well. It’ll make you see dragons and fairies, and we can’t have that now. If we ever get a chance, I’ll let you have some for a party, but not until we have this business settled, agreed?”

  The man gave an involuntary smile and said eagerly, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good, now get the hell out of here, I’m busy.”

  * * *

  The jungle was burned to the ground, but only within the confines of what had once been a sort of high enclosure. It was a strange puzzle, one that Colonel Crenshaw tried to solve as he sat upon a large rock in the remains of the unlikely grove. He had no idea this place had once been sacred to all the native peoples of this land, and he could not see the purpose in any of it.

  Tracing his finger in the thin layer of ash, he wondered why it had been built in the first place. No other village had ever walled in an entire section of forest. If it were an animal pen, it couldn’t have been a very good one, not if he could be a judge from what was left. It might have been a prison, but couldn’t have been good for that purpose either. The wall simply wasn’t of sufficient height or strength to keep either a determined man or beast from escaping. So the question remained.

  A dark figure appeared on the road. Sighting the man as he approached, Crenshaw stood, extending a broad wave of the hand in greeting. Despite the oppressive darkness, he knew who this was. Smitty had finally returned.

  “Hello there, my friend,” Crenshaw called out, going to meet Captain Smith.

  Smith was walking with a slight limp, stepping gingerly on his right foot. “Hey there, Boss. Sorry, but I’m moving a bit slow.”

  “What happened? Do you need the doc?”

  “No, no, just stuck my foot in the wrong spot, that’s all. One of those nasty water lizards, that’s crocodile, got me. I’m glad of the boot. Otherwise I would have lost it.”

  Taking Smith’s pack and slinging it over his shoulder, Crenshaw slipped under the Captain’s arm and helped him over to the rock inside the grove where he had been sitting. “How’d it happen?”

  Smith let out a deep breath of air to ease the pain as he sat. “Oh, he was a sneaky devil, and those bastards were closing in on me.”

  “You weren’t discovered?”

  “What? Me? No, they’d have to do better than that to find me out, but they were on my trail as thick as flies on a dung heap. Make no mistake, they’re a crafty folk. Their patrols nearly had me five or six times. They can sniff you out like dogs.”

  “Did you see anything?”

  “Yes, and they ran me round enough to get it, but I got a pretty good look at the place all the same. The sat-data would be a real help to us if we could get it. I tell you, it’s not pretty. The wall and the buildings look to be as I remember, but they have built up a bit around the outside, almost like we’d expected. Here you go. I drew in as much detail, the roads and such, as I could.” Smith handed over a rolled up animal skin with obscure markings written upon it. Crenshaw opened the map and began looking it over. “I’ll clean it up a bit when I’ve had a rest and a chance for some better light to see by.”

  “No, this is very good, better than I expected.”

  “Still, we’ll need the best maps we can get our hands on. I’m sure they know we’re coming. They’ve opened the dam and flooded the fields all around them. It’s the damnedest cesspit I’ve ever seen. They’ve got spikes in the mud, and they’ve put them damn crocs to work for them, feeding them raw meat to keep them around, no doubt. That’s how I got my foot all bit up.”

  “What’s the condition of the roads?”

  “Sweet as a young girl’s kiss, they are.”

  Smiling, Crenshaw rolled up the skin and put it in a pocket. “Good. And their defenses? Any holes in the patrol we can exploit?”

  “It’s tight. They’ve got all the folk from the countryside to fill the ranks. I could hear them inside their city there, drilling like the god damned Marines.”

  “But that also means inexperience. They’ll panic and run when they see us coming. That’s our edge.”

  “That’s right enough, I suppose,” Captain Smith said, nodding thoughtfully.

  “Are you hungry? There was some food left when the natives bugged out. Fresh vegetables and meat does a man good.”

  “That does sound good. A man can live on rations, but it’s no way to live. How are you feeling by the way? You look one hell of a lot better than last time I saw you.”

  “It comes and goes. With a belly full of real food, I almost feel like myself again.”

  “Ever figure out what did it to you?”

  “No,” said Crenshaw. “You remember what happened to that private on Buckler’s Moon? He was the one who was stung by that bee-thing and puffed up like a blowfish and died, but nothing happened to the rest of us.”

  “Oh, yes, Cartwright, terrible thing to see, that was. He deserved better than that.”

  “Well, I figure it was like that, genetic predisposition, allergy, at least I hope so.”

  “Yeah,” Smith agreed, “if the rest of us start running around like a bunch of flaming lunatics, we’re in trouble if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  Crenshaw laughed. “Not at all, and you’re absolutely right. But when the equipment went, so did the scanners. Lucky for us we checked out so much of the local food before it happened.”

  “That’s Hayes for you, always on his toes. How’s the water holding out?”

  “With careful rationing there will be enough tablets to get us out of the dark phase, but I’ve started boiling water when we’re in camp.”

  “Waste not, want not,” Captain Smith agreed. “And, the ammunition?”

  “No shortage there, not yet. There were about a hundred full cases last count. I only wish we weren’t using the TART-Loads so we could save the casings, but no use leaving behind any evidence. That’s what we’re here to avoid.” />
  “You’re a good man when the chips are down, sir, but if we start to run low, we’re going to have to forget about the silly Charter and the Members and come up with a smart idea or two to save our own asses. Let the lawyers figure it out. They’ll still make their money if we have to share this godforsaken wilderness with a few savages, might even add a little local color and improve the tourism.”

  “Now, Smitty, I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but we’ve got to try to make the best of it. A habitable planet is the most valuable commodity in the universe. The Members won’t just let it slip through their fingers, regardless of technical difficulties or a few rowdy natives. Who knows, if we come through, there might be some leverage for an extra bonus,” Crenshaw said smugly. “I just might end up being governor of this godforsaken wilderness.”

  “Why stop there?” Smith added smugly, “You could be the damned crowned prince himself.”

  “Prince?” the Colonel said, smiling, “I like the sound of that, Prince Crenshaw. Has a nice ring, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure does, especially to your faithful squire.”

  “We have to finish the mission, and we’re going to have to come up with a little creativity on this one, some new ideas.”

  “Speaking of getting the job done, where is everyone?”

  “Still on patrol. That witch gave us the slip.”

  “For god’s sake,” Smith said with disgust, “that bunch of lazy bastards. They had no more than a half-day on us. It’s not like you can hide a crowd like that for very long, what with women and children and all, no matter how well you know the terrain.”

  “I’m not happy about it either, but maybe Hayes found them and gave chase. He’s long overdue.”

  “Or the more likely, he’s lying dead somewhere.”

  “Could be, if he went after them. A squad of ten men isn’t enough against a crowd like that, even with superior fire power.”

  “No, not when they’re protecting their families. And speaking of, I saw plenty of them witches at the Capital.” Captain Smith added noncommittally, “If the rest of them can play tricks as you say, then it might add a wrinkle to the plan.”

  Taking the obvious doubts over of his account of the white clad native’s abilities in stride, not sure he would have believed the story himself if it weren’t for the support of Hayes and the others, Crenshaw said, “We have magic of our own. I thought we might build a trebuchet or a catapult and use what’s left of the heavy ordinance.”

  “Planning an extended stay, then are we?”

  Crenshaw absently kicked the dirt, revealing the red soil beneath the ash. “I suppose you’re right. It would take us forever to build, and every day they get stronger while we get weaker. We’d be better off running up to the gate on tiptoes.”

  “The sooner the better, I’d say, if it were my decision to make.”

  “I think you’re right again, Smitty, always the voice of good sense. A couple of weeks, everyone gets fat and healthy, and maybe we even break into that well and let the men have a little party. Then we march for the Capital. No sense chasing after the little fish and letting the big one get away.”

  “Well, when I’ve had a bite to eat, I’ll go looking for Hayes if you’d like. He’s a good kid. I’d hate to see anything happen to him. He shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

  “I sent him northwest along the far side of the ridge,” Crenshaw said, but looked down with concern. “What about your foot?”

  “Oh, that? Don’t worry. I’ll wrap it up nice, and it’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t let it go bad on you. There’s not much we can do if it gets infected with anything, well, weird. Promise me you’ll see the doc. Take a full series of antibiotics and make sure you glob enough ointment on it.”

  Smith said with a laugh, “Right enough. I wouldn’t want it to puff up like a blowfish or anything.”

  “No, and if you start thinking you want to chase off after some native in nothing but your skivvies, let me know. I’ll make Hayes your personal babysitter.”

  “No, no, I’ll take care of it, on my honor.” After a pause, Smith said. “Just one last thing before I go.”

  “Yes? Spit it out, Smitty. We’ve known each other long enough not to stand on formalities. What’s bothering you?”

  “Well, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t have mind, but what did you decide to do to Jones?” He added quickly, “I just thought I should be in the know.”

  “I didn’t do a thing.”

  “What?” Smith exclaimed, “But he tried to kill you.”

  “No, that bastard Roberts tried to kill me, and I took care of it. Punishment was summarily issued. Discipline has been maintained.”

  “Both ways cuts the knife, or at least that’s the way I see it. You can’t let plots against you go unpunished, sir. You know better than that. No matter what the current circumstances are, you can’t let Jones get away with it.”

  “I’m not letting anyone get away with anything,” Crenshaw said with a certain smile and slant of the eye. “I’m quite sure Roberts was acting alone. I’ve said as much to the men, in fact.”

  “I don’t know what you’re up to, and maybe it’s not my place to say, but you’re playing with fire with that one. That Jones is no good, and he’s going to get us all killed.”

  “If we’re not all going to get killed, we’re going to need as many men as we can get. If I have to start executing my staff, we might as well forget about getting home.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Take the Capital. Then, I’ll give Jones enough rope to hang himself, find out who his real supporters are, and take appropriate action. He screwed up and he knows we’ll be watching. So he’ll be on his best behavior for a while.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do and who knows, maybe he’ll step back in line. I really am his best chance to get home. A bonus isn’t much good if you’re not around to spend it.”

  “Well, I’ll follow your orders as you know. But if I ever get my chance, I’ll stick a knife in his ribs, or his back, or his liver, whichever comes first.”

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for Captain Smith to find the trail Hayes left behind. He was a skilled tracker and experienced in working without the technical aid that so many of his contemporaries relied upon. He discovered the first signs of the Lieutenant’s men in the odd boot print, washed mostly away after the recent rains, but there for a careful eye to find. Then, as the jungle thickened, Smith found a path that cut into the mountainside. Hayes had made little effort to cover his tracks, seemed almost reckless in his pursuit of the witch and his followers. It was a sign of what was to come.

  When he arrived at the first campsite, Smith became even more concerned. The Lieutenant and his people hadn’t bothered to hide the evidence of their fire. Charred logs were stamped out but left in the pits that were dug to contain them. Empty ration containers and the obvious signs of a carcass were buried but not deeply and had been dug up by some animal. Smith looked upon the site with disapproval, wondering if Hayes had any concept of the danger he was in, not by the look of things.

  From then on, Captain Smith was even more careful than he had been. He thought Hayes must have been following some sign of the savages to come this way, but whatever those signs had been, he could not find them now. The trail ran along the ridge, providing a commanding view and good cover, but Smith couldn’t rid himself of the feeling of danger. He moved with the utmost care and collected fresh boughs and tied them to his clothing, blending into the landscape. Still there was a strained silence, as if the lesser inhabitants of the jungle knew he was there.

  After three day’s journey, the path swung toward the river, down through a deep cut in the ridge. Smith took a bearing with his compass before he went. He guessed he was no more than ten kilometers from the river road that led to the Capital. He wondered if Hayes had come to the road and then returned to the camp that way. If so,
they could have easily missed each other.

  But then even in the growing darkness, Smith was taken by a cold feeling, the voice of death whispering in his ear. As he walked into the gorge, his mind had been at work, interpreting the signs he gave no conscious thought to. Suddenly he could see what had happened in this place. Feeling vulnerable, looking around in desperate realization, Captain Smith knew he was standing on a killing ground.

  What plants grew between the rocks were bent, broken, or crushed into the mud. Stone was chipped or shattered. The discarded remains of arrows and spears lay on the muddy ground. He could not find blood, but there had been the rain, a cleansing rain that washed away the clues he looked for.

  Warily, Smith made his way toward the river. The going was much easier, more so than he expected. He began to think himself upon some kind of parade route due to the great trampling of the dirt and grass. Down to the river road the trail went. And, at the road, Smitty found Hayes and the nine other men that had been with him.

  Their heads were arranged upon crudely fashioned pikes, cut from the forest on the way down from the gorge. Their bodies, their possessions, were nowhere to be found. With a silent prayer for the dead, Smith made a hasty retreat.

  Chapter 19

  While the sun plotted a slow course through the heavens, filling the land with light and heat, the beast had slept. Biding time in the depths of the world as its prey lived in safety, the season finally ripened, and it awakened. A grey, twilit land greeted the katabo as it rose from its den. The night had not yet fully come, but it wanted to feed the burning fires of an empty belly.

  Standing tall on its hind legs, it tasted the wind. A puff of white marked its breath in the chill air. But it was to be disappointed. There was no easy prey in this place. The land was barren, empty of that which it sought.

  On all fours the katabo made its way over broken and jagged rocks to a small stream, for it knew at the water it might find a meal. Again the beast had no luck. There was no food to be had, not until it entered the forest.