by Henry Vogel
The man opened his mouth again, but I kept speaking. “And don’t think you can hide in the tunnels. I’ve got a better map of this place than any of you have. No one will escape my wrath.”
The Great One spoke to his men, I assume translating my words for them. The trogs all chuffed. They leveled their spears at the man who had spoken and jabbed once. Though well out of range, the man jumped back and the trogs chuffed some more.
“Do you have any other stupid questions?” I asked.
The belligerent one shook his head, eyes wide.
“Then get out of my sight. Spread the word and clear the tunnels.”
The tunnel rats backed from the room. Most ran the moment they cleared the door.
“Good threat. Much fun.” The Great One jabbed the air with his spear. “Say before, say again. You make good trog.”
“Thank you, I guess.” I wrapped Martin’s good arm over my shoulders, lending him my strength and support. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Ten minutes later, we climbed out of the tunnels. It took some work to get one–handed Martin up the ladder, but we made it without hurting him too badly.
I squinted into the gray light of predawn, thrilled to see the sky again. “Callan tells me you know the way to go, Milo. Please lead on.”
Short minutes later, we climbed the stairs to the roof where the Pauline—and medical care for Martin—waited for us. Milo reached the rooftop and came to a stop.
“David,” he said, “I don’t think we’re out of this yet.”
“Then move so I can come up there and see what you see,” I said.
Milo stepped aside, allowing Callan and me to reach the roof. The Pauline waited right where Callan said it would be. But ours wasn’t the only airship in the area. Fifty feet beyond the roof’s edge floated two Beloren warships. Both ships had all their weapons trained on us!
Chapter 54
Callan
David and I stared at the Beloren airships for a moment before he spoke. “I must admit this is an unexpected development.”
“I had hoped this wouldn’t happen, darling, but I knew it was possible.”
“My dear, this is why smart women are so wonderful. As you knew it was possible, please tell me that you made plans for this?”
“Of course I did.”
A voice rang out from one of the airships. “I speak Mordanian, so don’t think you can just stand there and scheme in your own language!”
I motioned for the trogs to stay on the stairs, out of sight from the Beloren airships, then led David to the edge of the roof.
“Who’s in charge here?” I called to the airships.
The man who had spoken earlier said, “I am in charge. Now who are you?”
“David, you’re so good at this. Would you mind terribly doing the honors?” I asked.
“Are you kidding? I love this bit.” Raising his voice, David called, “You are addressing Her Royal Highness, Princess Callan, Heir to the throne of Mordan. I am her husband, Prince Consort David Rice.”
“Ah yes, I’ve heard of you, Rice,” the man replied. “You’re the troublemaker.”
David drew breath to retort, but I touched his arm. “You don’t get to have all the fun, darling. It’s my turn.”
Drawing forth my royal voice, I said, “If, by troublemaker, you mean the only person within your little city–state who is man enough to fight the tunnel rats in their own territory, then you have the right of it!”
Muttering and spluttering protests rose from both airships. It appeared more than a few of the crew understood Mordanian.
Their captain bristled and called, “I could take you and your friends prisoner right now, little princess!”
“You certainly could try,” I shot back. Looking over my shoulder, I called, “Great One, please bring your warriors onto the roof.”
Silence fell when the trogs came to stand behind us.
“As you can see, we number rather more than four.”
The captain swept his arm in an arc encompassing both airships. “And I still outnumber you five or six to one, little princess!”
“Ah, I see you have failed to fully grasp just what these trogs standing before you represent. Indeed, your real problem stems from the trogs standing behind you.” It was my turn to sweep my arm in a broad arc, one encompassing the southern and western edges of the city. “I suggest you have one of your men turn his spyglass that direction. Look out beyond those fallen walls, the ones you haven’t gotten around to rebuilding since my previous visit to your ever–so–welcoming little city.”
“Lieutenant?” asked the captain.
The man next to the captain brought the spyglass to his eye and gasped.
“She’s not bluffing, sir.” The man lowered the spyglass. “The desert is teeming with trogs, sir. There must be hundreds of them.”
“Just over a thousand, actually. I don’t have the exact number, but just imagine what that many trogs would do to your city–state, little captain.”
“What do you want, Your Highness?”
“We want to leave, nothing more.”
“And what of the trogs surrounding my city?”
“They will leave when we leave. Or they will come in and fetch us if we don’t leave by full sunrise. I think that’s in about fifteen minutes. Will you require more time than that to come to a decision?”
“No, Your Highness, I will not. You and your companions are free to leave.”
I waved the trogs toward the Pauline. “Great One, we’re leaving, now.”
I turned back to the captain. “I suggest you point those weapons in another direction. You wouldn’t want your men doing something stupid as we fly away.”
Apparently, the captain agreed with me. He was busy issuing orders as David and I boarded the Pauline. Tristan, aided by Milo, guided Martin below to the surgery.
Standing in the bow of the little ship and watching the sun rise, I wrapped my arms around David and drew him into a kiss.
“Let’s go home, darling.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Henry Vogel had the usual range of menial jobs in his youth before ending up in software QA. Between the menial jobs and the IT jobs, Henry achieved some small fame as a comic book writer and co-creator of the small press titles Southern Knights and X-Thieves. For the past ten years, Henry has performed all around North Carolina as a professional storyteller. His love of planetary romances can be traced to Mrs. Lashley, a high school math teacher who loaned him her copy of A Princess of Mars, fostering a love of the genre which has never died.
Henry currently lives in Raleigh, NC, with his wife, son, two cats, and a host of imaginary friends all clamoring to tell him of their adventures.
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Other Books by Henry Vogel
Scout Series:
Scout’s Honor
Scout’s Oath
Scout’s Duty
Matt & Michelle:
The Fugitive Heir
The Fugitive Pair (August, 2016)
Standalone Novels:
The Counterfeit Captain
