by Jan Stryvant
"Hey, somebody important just came out!" John said and pointed at one of the screens offering a different view.
The female sergeant operating the equipment switched the feed John had pointed at to the main screen. On it, two very large demons were standing there, with a number of smaller demons attending to them.
"The big ones," Cali said, "look like råges, that would make the ones surrounding them bonde, like bondsmen of olden times. Råge are often commanders of large groups, but they are always sworn to a larger, more powerful djevel."
As they watched, another råge came out of the gate, accompanied by several more of the bonde as well. Then they all cleared away from the gate, turned to face it, and bowed. All the work stopped, and the other djevels stood still. Two more demons came out of the gate then; the first was larger than the råge, and the second, while the same size, was apparently the leader.
"A ridder and I don't know what," Cali said, shaking her head.
'A biskop,' the First told him. 'Ridders correspond to knights. They have mounts and can be powerful. Biskops are leaders and nasty bastards. We'll be facing him down personally, you and me.'
"It's a biskop," Sean said. "I think the leadership has shown up."
"And it looks like several of the råge aren't happy with whatever he's telling them," Colonel Tibbets said.
"How can you tell?" Chad asked.
"Look at the body language. You don't get to be a colonel without being able to tell when you've just made an unpopular decision."
"Looks like they're moving out," Max said as they all watched the demons quickly fall into formation. The ridder and the biskop both had mounts, which looked like some sort of demonic horse. Everyone else was on foot. Teams of eight gnashers were assigned to each of the ten rather primitive carts they'd brought through the gate, to pull them, hooked together in a way that reminded Sean of sled dogs.
"And they're definitely not about to go scouting, either," Maitland observed. "Not with a force that large."
#
"Råges! Get them moving!" Stakar yelled as he came out of the gate. "Now! Line them up and prepare to move them out!"
"Are you sure this is wise, Lord Stakar?" Insats asked Stakar, the biskop he had been assigned to. "Prince Taser Ansigt bid us to secure this area, dig in, and wait for the other korps and their leaders."
Stakar snorted and stamped over to where his mount was being held by a gnasher for him. This one was paying careful heed to his demonic steed, no doubt inspired by the headless gnasher now laying dead on the ground under its feet.
"Our prey surrounds us in numbers never seen before in all the records and histories of our kind! They have become weak and fat, their numbers overflowing because they have not been culled for many a cycle! I will not sit here and waste our time building walls and digging holes so that others may feast! This harvest is for the bold! The strong! We will be the ones eating well tonight, surrounded by the dead and dying bodies of our prey as we suck out their souls and consume them!"
"But still, my Lord, our orders were..."
"Those orders are for the meek and the weak, Insats! We are neither."
"Do you not fear our prince's wrath?" Insats asked, surprised. Stakar had never been one to show anything but obedience; never once had Insats heard of him defying a command from one of the higher castes. That was why he had been picked to come through first and start on their defenses.
Stakar laughed. "We have food for a thousand years, longer even! Why should I care what Taser Ansigt thinks? There is more than enough food for all of us! If you wish to wait for him, then wait!"
"But the stories of the beastmen, and the ones who lead them?"
"Bah! Hatchling stories to keep the timid in line while the powerful dine. We are a powerful force, four of the finest bestille in the Onderwereld. Do not tell me you are fearful of the humans?"
Insats bristled. "No! Of course not. I have just been taken by surprise by your boldness; I had never thought to see such from you."
Stakar smiled evilly. "Because in the past our 'prince' guarded the gates on his lands most carefully. If you did not bow to him, you did not get to pass. But now? I will never go back! I will set up my own rule and live off the bounty of this legendary frugtbare sletter! If they want a fort, they can build it! I will lead us to glory and feasts! None who ride with me will be denied a full bully ever again!
"Now! To your mount! We have far to travel!"
So saying, Stakar swung up into the saddle, giving his steed a hefty clout to the head when it tried to bite him. Stakar hoped the steed could survive off of human flesh; he needed his gnashers too much to send them into the steed's gullet.
Looking around, he could see the temper of several of the råges was weak; they were barely whipping their bonde and gnashers. No doubt they too were upset with his sudden change of plans, fearful still of what lay behind them. But he knew how to deal with that; he'd give them the youngest and most innocent of the humans to feast on when they had their first encounter. Råges had very little self-control; just a taste and they'd be fired up for more.
"Biskop! Which way?" one of the råges called from the front of the column.
Stakar stood tall in the stirrups and pointed—any direction was as good as another— and the column took off heading in a westerly direction at a fairly fast pace, while he and Insats rode ahead to scout. None had returned from the first two forays into the jagtområder; obviously their bellies had overridden their loyalty. While they had maps of this jagtområder, they had no idea where the gates were leaving them, though they knew enough to know that whichever direction you went, you would come to an abundance of food soon enough.
Insats was grumbling to himself and wondering if perhaps he should have stayed back at the gate and waited for the other biskops. The prince had a good plan, a solid one, but the thought of being able to eat without contesting for his food, of being able to eat all that he could wish, tempted him. Also, the idea of sitting around a fort all day while others went and enjoyed the slaughter had not set well. So he'd listened to Stakar and ridden off with him. The land was too bright here during the day, and that miserable sun had risen high in the sky, giving him second thoughts when, suddenly, he saw it—buildings!
There were dozens of them! Some of them were several stories high! And the people! He could see people walking around outside!
Wheeling his steed around, Insats streaked back to the column head as fast as he could go. Ten minutes later he was setting them on a new course, letting the word pass back that they'd found an oasis in this desert. Stakar wasn't slow in noticing the change in course from his own scouting position, and when he rode up to Insats, there was a savagely pleased expression on his face.
"You found something?"
Insats nodded and grinned hungrily back at him. "A town, it's just a few short miles past those hills."
"Excellent! Maybe we can learn where the nearest city is from one if we promise to let them live," Stakar said with a laugh. Food would often agree to anything for the promise of survival. Somehow it always made the taste better when they realized their betrayal had gained them naught.
"Make sure to save the best for our hardworking råges," Stakar said in an overly loud whisper.
"Are you sure?" Insats asked, noticing the two nearest råges were suddenly straining to hear.
"Always take care of your råges, Insats, always." Stakar could tell he had their attention. "Especially when you have the best!"
Insats nodded and thought about the coming feast. Sure, riding through the hot sun was annoying, but they hadn't encountered another djevel, or even any of those obviously mythical beastmen, since they'd left the gate.
Stakar obviously had known of what he spoke when he'd ordered them all off on their own. Insats shook his head thinking about it, all that food! Ripe for the taking! And he wouldn't have to share any of it ever again!
#
"Man, they sure are ugly stinkers," Colonel Tibb
ets observed.
"Unhappy, too," Roxy added. They'd watched as this new group had started coming out of the gate almost an hour after the first group had ridden off. At first they'd milled around, unsure of what to do, then one of the Minde demons had come out, looked around, and actually gone back in. Just now a group of ridders and even two of the biskops had come out, looked around at the milling gnashers and other demons, and they did not look at all happy.
"Somebody is obviously not sticking to the plan," Colonel Tibbets agreed.
"So they've already got people going rogue," Chad said. "I don't know if I should be happy or sad."
"I'd think happy," Sean said. "If they can't keep order in the ranks, it has to mean discipline and morale are pretty bad."
"Oh, definitely," Chad agreed. "But, and it's a pretty big 'but', this still leaves us without any idea of what their battle plan is going to be."
"One thing's for sure," Cali said, "they will not be coming back here. If they just defied their master's orders, they'll all be killed for such disobedience."
"Makes you wonder," Max said. "What's more important? Attacking us and following their plan, or riding off after the rogues and killing them?"
"That will tell us a lot about their leader," Chad said. "I'm thinking he probably can't afford to send anybody off after them just yet. He hasn't had a single success, and he probably needs something to bolster his army and officers to keep any more of them from striking off on their own."
"Well, neither of those biskops seem to be going anywhere," Max noted, "so I'm thinking you're probably right."
"So what do we do about their rogues?" Sean asked.
"Well, we don't need to attack them just yet," Chad told him while looking through his notes. "They're not heading to Reno or anywhere close to us, so for now we'll just let them have fun in the desert."
"Yeah, but sooner or later they're going to find something, or rather, some place," Sean pointed out.
Chad nodded. "I'd recommend we send out our reserves; they're all in trucks, so none of the enemy will really see them coming. We can stage them somewhere up in front of the rogues. It'll be good experience for them and allow us to keep the main body ready to respond against them," Chad said and motioned towards the screen.
"Do you want me to lead them?" Maitland asked.
Chad shook his head and turned to Sean. "I'd like to put Ruthelma in charge of the first company, Roxy's father in charge of the second, with Roloff in command of the whole thing."
"Why them?" Sean asked. "Bill's never led an army as far as I know, and Roloff is the leader of the dwarven armies, and there're no dwarves in the reserve units we've got sitting ready back at the ranch."
"Bill needs the experience, plain and simple. He's led the Vegas police force, so he knows how to command, he just needs to see what a war is like. Roloff for more or less the same reason, he's never seen real large-scale combat, and he needs to get a taste of what the enemy is like. Ruthelma because, quite simply, if it all falls to pieces, you can put her in charge and she'll deal with it."
"Then why not just put her in charge now?"
"Because Bill and Roloff are senior to her, and it would show a lack of confidence in them."
Sean nodded. "Makes sense. I'm good with that; anyone want to add anything?"
"I'd like to add a couple of observers," Colonel Tibbets said, speaking up. "My own people could use the experience, too."
"You know it's not safe for them, Colonel," Sean pointed out.
"Being a soldier never is."
"I see your point," Sean said, capitulating. "Fine, send them out. Chad, send the orders. Now let's get back to watching what this other group is up to."
'Should I go with Ruthelma and the others to deal with that biskop?' Sean asked the First.
'The others will have to make do,' the First sighed. 'With two at the gateway, I'm starting to worry that a hersker might come through, and they're a lot worse than a biskop.'
'Great, just great. Reinforcements would be nice here, Dad.'
'Right now there are only nine thousand and twenty-three lions in the world, Son. That's only a quarter of us, and two thirds of them are dealing with South America, which has neither the military, the resources, the lycans, or even the army that North America does.'
'Where are the remaining third?'
'Most are in Europe or Asia, though there are others scattered around the world, looking for signs of the demons or taking care of our other concerns. Besides, it's early in the war yet. Like your friend Chad, we're all still being cautious before we commit.'
'I don't know, Dad. It looks to me like the war is on in earnest. I don't know what you faced in the past, but they're sure streaming out of that gate in pretty good numbers.'
Sean and the First both noted the tally on one of the screens of just how many demons were estimated to have come through in this second wave; it was quickly approaching five hundred for this second group. They were coming through so fast now that they were literally tripping over each other.
'If you were counting on a slow ramp up, Dad, I think you're all about to be surprised. Unpleasantly so.'
'This definitely isn't what we're seeing in South America,' the First admitted. 'They're being much more cautious there.'
'So you think they're not all working under the same leader or same plan?'
'Obviously not.'
Sean sat and pondered all of that as the demons kept coming through the gateway. When they got to two thousand, they broke into two groups, and Sean couldn't miss the little drama that wordlessly played itself out before them as the two groups were designated.
The much smaller group formed up with one of the biskops leading and quickly trotted off, heading due south, while the other, larger group started to work on fortifications. The mission clock said that another four hours had gone by; the gate only had four hours left to go now.
"I'm starting to think Max won," Sean said as they watched the one group head off due south.
"I just wonder how big that raiding party would be if the other group had stayed and done the work they were supposed to. But yeah, Max won," Chad said and smiled over at her. "They're digging in and mean to stay here after the gate goes down."
"So what do we do about them?" Roxy asked.
"Well, we can hit that raiding party once it gets about five miles away. There's only eighty or so of them, so I don't think they'll be too hard."
"That biskop will be," Sean said, "so I'm going to go as well to deal with him."
"I will join you, my Husband," Cali added.
"I think I'll..." Roxy started and then noticed that Sean was growling softly, "stay right here," she sighed.
Sean smiled. "Better."
"You're not making Cali stay," Roxy grumped.
"Oh, don't worry, once she starts showing as much as you do, she'll be grounded too."
"Oh really, my Husband?"
Sean smiled at Cali and nodded. "Yes, my Wife. Really."
"So when do we deal with the ones setting up camp?" Roxy asked.
"Oh, I think once the gate closes, we start dropping bombs on them."
"Wait, I thought they couldn't be hurt by regular weapons?"
Chad shrugged. "I thought it might be a good experiment. Besides which, by the time morning rolls around, they'll be tired from constantly being blown up and will be much easier to kill."
'You know, I really do like the way he thinks.'
'Once again, why do you think I made him my general?'
The flight out to attack the raiding party was a short one. Everyone had been ready for hours, so they left immediately and set up to intercept the raiders, being dropped off just a few minutes in front of their advance, the helicopters then circling around to harass them. Each of the helicopters now had a pair of machine guns mounted on them, as Sawyer had found them a couple of crates of old but still serviceable M60s. They weren't very accurate, but bullets really didn't do a lot of damage, it was more
of a harassment factor than anything else.
The layout of their 'ambush' was pretty simple, a 'v' shape with Sean at the point of it, and a third of the forces trailing back to either side of them. What wasn't apparent were the other two thirds of their forces, which were split to either side and hiding out of sight. Sean felt that, once they saw him in the lead, they would come down and attack him first, being confident that their equal numbers would carry the day.
Plus killing a lion would probably be a big win in their book.
But the moment they engaged, the remainder of the forces would come out of cover and attack from the sides, linking up in the back and encircling the entire party. Sean's over all numbers were more than double that of the raiders, so he was optimistic about their chances for a quick, decisive battle.
When the enemy came into sight, Sean was surprised to see that several of them looked wounded, and that the biskop had lost his steed. While the machine guns might not do a lot of damage, obviously they could do enough if it was concentrated. Something as big as that horse-like creature the biskop had been riding must have been an easy target.
Of course the biskop was now rather pissed, and the moment he saw Sean, he roared out something unintelligible and led his raiding party in a charge directly at Sean.
Gripping his sword, Sean stood his ground and did his best not to look as scared as he suddenly felt.
'A little moral support would be good right now, Dad.'
'You're doing fine, Son. But he did just call your mother a whore and a slut who sleeps with, well, I won't translate that part, but it really wasn't nice...'
Sean blinked. 'He what?'
'Insulted the shit out of your mom. And trust me, I toned it way down.'
Sean couldn't believe it; here he was about to fight a demon from another dimension, and the bastard had the gall to start calling his mother, his mom, a woman who had suffered and survived some of the worst shit after his father had died, names?
'Oh, I am so going to fuck this asshole's shit up!' Sean growled, and with a roar, he charged the attacking biskop, the rest of his soldiers picking up Sean's roar with shouts and yells of their own as they charged with him.
