She stopped. “Unless you don’t want me to, of course.”
I sat up. “You don’t have to do this, either, Nicolet. Really.”
“Is that a no?”
I met her eyes. “No, it’s not. It’s up to you.”
“That’s the whole point of being free now, isn’t it? I get to choose?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Look, I’ve never . . . you know, been with a man. Never when it’s been my choice. Now that it is, well, I want to, yeah.” She glanced back in the direction of the Osterway encampment. “Besides, they might not give us another chance, and I really don’t want the last man to touch me to be that fucking animal Egnor.”
That, I understood, so I nodded and she went back to work on my trousers, pulling them down and sliding them off my legs. Fortunately, the night wasn’t too cold, with just a bit of chill off Le’kemeshaw. She kept cleaning me, but at some point, the cloth vanished and it was just her hand on my body, the fingers softly exploring, then growing more confident when she saw my smile.
Her fingers touched my cock, then encircled it and started stroking me. That brought me to full erection. I moved to touch her, but my leg twinged hard and I winced at the rebellion of my body. “Sorry,” I said, “but I’m just not really mobile right now.”
“Doesn’t matter, as long as one of us is,” she said, letting go of me, then she leaned back and stripped off her own clothes. Moonlight filtering through the birches dappled her silver and grey, revealing a small, lithe body, wiry muscles, and taut breasts with nipples hardened in the cool night. She crouched again and resumed stroking me, then leaned in for a kiss so soft, it was a whisper. We kissed two more times, each warmer and more confident. Her breath was sweet, and moonshadow fell across the planes of her face, revealing a heated look that hadn’t been there a moment before.
My fingers found the warmth between her legs, probing at it until she sighed and lifted a hip to welcome me further in. Her hand stroked faster, and I moved my own fingers faster in response, curling them up to stroke the interior ridge inside her, smooth and hot under my fingertips.
Her sigh became a gasp, and our kisses turned insistent. It was time.
She groaned again, then reached down and pulled my fingers from inside her and pushed my hand away. I thought she might be done, but she swung her leg over me, straddled my cock, and impaled herself on it with a look of pained relief.
“Exactly how I feel,” I said.
“Shh—” Her answer was lost in my mouth, and I braced my feet as she began to rise and fall, a tight, muscular ring squeezing me up, down, over and over with the balance of a dancer. Her eyes closed, her mouth hung open as she rode me. I tried to match her rhythm and rise to meet her, but the stabs of pain in my leg and shoulder were just too distracting. I finally gave up and let her take charge, easing back slightly as she did the work, her body attuned to mine.
She came, loudly and with an astonished look on her face, eyes fluttering with each crest until her pleasure became too much for me to resist. I joined her a moment later, riding the waves of raw, primal pleasure, still gasping when her mouth found mine and we kissed again, long and deeply.
She withdrew, a sly grin on her face as she picked up the cloth and cleaned me all over again, her touch even more gentle than before. I glanced at Flint as we dressed in satisfied quiet, and near as I could tell, she hadn’t moved. I did notice, though, that she’d rotated an ear our way.
“Well,” Nicolet said, pulling a bootlace taut, “if that’s how it’s supposed to feel, then fuck Osterway even more. It’s never felt that . . . good.” She gave me a smile. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, and it’s supposed to be that way every time. Or better,” I said, but I could see the pain buried behind her words. She was a remarkable woman, and very resilient. But she also had a long, hard history that wouldn’t just go away, like a ghost at the edge of her vision.
“What happens next?” she asked.
“Sleep.”
“And after that?”
I met her eyes. “War.”
She nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
Her clear and simple faith in me finally made falling asleep both a little easier and a little harder. Easier, because it was nice to be trusted.
Harder, because it was just someone else who’d chosen to depend on me, this warrior trapped in a man’s body.
16
I woke in darkness, tensing as I did, assuming there was a reason for it . . . that the Osterway forces had gotten close to us, maybe even found us. I braced myself to strike out, lunge, dodge . . . but stopped myself. I hadn’t brought myself awake, but it wasn’t Flint who’d woken me, either. Instead, a voice hissed, “Cus, wake up!” and someone shook me.
I opened my eyes and found someone leaning over me, a dark shape against a paling sky.
“Nicolet?”
“Yeah. Sorry I had to wake you,” she said, “but I figured you’d want to see this.”
I clambered out of my bedroll, looked around, and saw Flint nearby and alert. The next thing that occurred to me was that I was still sore, particularly where I’d been shot in the leg. My tech had been busy knitting things back together, but the premature wake-up meant I wasn’t fully healed yet.
Still, if Nicolet thought I should see something, I’d better check it out. I nodded at her, then followed as she led me off to a sandy rise a few dozen yards away. The eastern sky had lightened to a pale silver-grey, with a brighter band of light showing where the sun would soon appear. A hard, pre-dawn chill hung in the air as we picked our way to the bit of high ground.
Nicolet pointed as we knelt in the darkness pooled under a small cluster of pines. “There . . . see? Their boats are back. They must have already gotten whatever they went for.”
Sure enough, I made the shapes of the same boats we’d seen depart yesterday, each burning a single running light. There wasn’t much wind, so they were still some distance from dropping anchor, but not too long. They’d probably be ready to off-load about the time the sun had fully risen.
“Shit. Venari must have another supply dump to the east, not far back along the coast,” I said. “Probably where she left their heavier gear. Didn’t think she’d need it for Watermanse.”
“But whatever it is, she’s got it here now.”
“Yeah, she does.”
“So that might give her an advantage?”
I nodded. Shit. I’d assumed the boats would be gone for a day or longer. I hadn’t anticipated they’d be able to make the round trip in less than a day.
“We’d better warn Watermanse, then,” Nicolet said.
“No, we’ll do one better. We’ll go and take out whatever it is they’ve brought.”
Nicolet gave me a doubtful glance. “You think we can manage that?”
“Only one way to find out. C’mon, let’s get moving.”
We returned to our campsite, packed up, then hustled our way back downhill toward the shoreline of Le’kemeshaw.
We arrived at the water’s edge, just east of Venari’s perimeter. The shape of the ground and the lakeshore did give us a bit of an advantage; the most defensible ground, where Venari had encamped and dug in, was actually separated from the only useable landing for boats by about a hundred paces. That meant we didn’t have to deal with the bulk of the Osterway defensive line, just whatever they sent out to meet the boats and take their cargo—whatever it was—back inside their perimeter.
Still . . . this was going to be tight, and extremely risky.
I moved a few paces and looked out onto the lake. Smaller boats were pulling away from the larger ones, laden with ominous, dark crates.
I turned back to Nicolet. “Are you a good shot with that carbine?”
She shrugged. “I can hit things.”
“That’s . . . great.” I pointed into the grassy clearing separating the beach from the treeline where I knew the eastern edge of the Osterway encampment was. The sky offered enough li
ght to make out some detail. “How about a man over there, across this clearing?”
She peered in that direction and shrugged again. “I think so.” She smirked. “One way to find out.”
I sighed. Yeah, extremely risky. But I couldn’t see any choice. I outlined the plan to her, then set off with Flint, moving straight north toward the lakeshore. We kept to low ground and bush, maintaining our cover for as long as we could. We reached the water’s edge just as the first of the small boats grounded with a loud scrape. I unslung my rifle. Mutters rose from the boats, over the lap of waves against the shore, then we heard a snapped order, more mutters, and curses. Men piled out of the boats, about a dozen total, and began struggling to unload the crates.
I lifted my rifle, took a sight picture, and fired. The shot slammed apart the morning quiet, and a man fell.
I heard shouts and fired again. And again. Then came a scream, and two more figures dropped. Someone took a pot-shot back, but it snapped past to my left. I didn’t wait for them to get organized. I dropped my rifle, taking a quick note where it was, then, Flint at my side, I charged.
We hit the beach and raced across the sand and gravel. More shouts went up from the men among the boats, but I ignored them and just plowed into the shadowy figures. I heard Flint snarl, but it turned into a wet, chewing sound, and a man shrieked.
A confusing whirl of melee followed—dark shapes, scuffling feet, splashing, shouts, Flint growling, screams, a gunshot . . . then another. I struck out, punched, kicked, dodged, leapt, slashed, and stabbed with my knife. It all unfolded in that strangely decelerated time my tech enabled, as though the Osterway men fought through tree sap. And then it was done, all but one of our opponents down, groaning or lifeless, the one still on his feet fleeing for their encampment.
Then there were more gunshots. They cracked across the grassy field just inland from the beach. Nicolet had done her job, shooting at anyone trying to break out of the encampment and intervene down here, by the water, pinning them. But the volume of gunfire was spooling up as the Osterway troops responded; Nicolet would very soon need to withdraw.
I looked at Flint, spattered with blood but still on her feet, then I kept going, jumping into the boats, ripping the crates open. There were two mortars and a recoilless gun. I couldn’t carry all of it, so I tossed one mortar tube onto the beach, grabbed the other, and started hammering one against the other. As I did, a shot cracked from the boats anchored offshore. I snapped at Flint to return to the bush, then slammed the two tubes together again. My Legacy tech came through, giving me enough force to deform both tubes, rendering them useless. The recoilless gun was a bigger problem; its barrel was much thicker and sturdier. Its breech block was stored separately from the barrel, though, and without it, the gun was just a metal tube. I grabbed it and ran, more rounds from the boats snapping around me. I glanced inland and saw figures charging across the field toward me, so I put on speed, crashing into the bushes where Flint had disappeared, pushing on, cradling the breech block, roughly paralleling the shoreline. My breath rasped in my lungs and pain flared across my body, but nothing seemed really serious; my tech wasn’t warning me about anything, anyway—at least, not yet.
Something crashed out of high grass beside me and I turned that way, ready to fend off an attack, but it was Flint, racing along with me.
The shouts and commotion of battle faded behind us. I heard a few more shots, then silence.
I desperately hoped Nicolet had gotten away. Or, if she hadn’t, then let her be dead, not captured again. Because if the Osterway took her alive . . .
I pushed the grim thought away and bashed on through the sudden flare of dawn.
I’d planned to throw the breech block into Le’kemeshaw, off a steep rock-face, where it would be deep. But I decided against it, instead jamming it into the muddy bank of a creek that burbled into the lake, then burying it. If we survived all this, maybe we could come back and get it, giving Watermanse a recoilless gun to add to their defenses. I memorized the location as best I could, counting on my tech to help me find this place again, after . . . whatever came next.
Flint and I then set off, heading back toward the Osterway encampment. We moved as stealthily as we could this time, just deeper shadows under the trees. I had a limp from a knee hit by something, I wasn’t sure what, just a solid impact during the battle at the boats. I just added it to the list of hurts.
“We get out of his, Flint,” I muttered during a quick halt, “I’m gonna sleep for a week.”
Flint grinned at me, her tongue lolling. It looked like emphatic agreement.
We got back to our preset rendezvous with Nicolet, and she wasn’t there.
Shit.
But I sensed someone a few dozen paces away, alone. We moved that way, me hissing, “Hey!” as we got close. I braced for an alarm, a shot, but it was Nicolet.
She sidled up beside me, cradling her carbine.
I let out a long, slow breath of relief. “You had me worried there.”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t remember if you said to come back to this stand of trees, or that one. I took a shot.”
I offered her all the smile I could manage. “Speaking of shots . . . you did good.”
“Told you I could hit things.” But her face went serious. “Did you stop them from using whatever it was they had on those boats?”
I thought about two mortars and that recoilless gun firing into Watermanse, then imagined the explosions and carnage they’d wreak.
“Yeah.” I looked at Nicolet. “It was worth doing what we did. We hurt them pretty bad.”
She smiled a tired, grubby, but satisfied smile. “Good. Fuck ‘em.”
I nodded westward. “Come on. We need to get closer to Watermanse. Venari’s going to attack them real soon.”
Her smile fled again. “I thought you said we hurt them.”
“Hurt them, not stopped them. Venari’s going to be really pissed at losing her Hightec. She’s gonna be out for blood.”
Nicolet gave a grim nod. “Okay, then. Lead on, Cus.”
We started westward, but diverted well south. I had no doubt Venari would be putting a lot of effort into protecting her flanks, putting out patrols. And, like I said, she’d be out for blood.
Sure enough, Venari’s army broke camp and got itself moving, marching on Watermanse in two main groups. One was going to attack along the shoreline, taking on the town’s defenses head-on; the other, sure enough, swung well south, to attack from that direction. It wasn’t quite a complete envelopment, but I knew Venari was seething and wouldn’t want to wait the extra half-day it would have taken to march her southern force completely around Watermanse.
The first gunshots rattled the air at mid-morning. I was surprised at the volume of fire coming from Watermanse, but it was still just a fraction of what the Osterway forces poured out. I led Flint and Nicolet to a piece of high ground southwest of Watermanse, one I knew gave a good overview of the town, and the eastern and southern approaches to it. Sure enough, I could see the lead elements of each part of the Osterway army. They seemed to have an extravagant amount of ammo to expend. I got that sour taste of anxiety in my mouth, that flutter in my gut, thinking that we might have woefully underestimated Osterway’s resources, and their willingness to expend them to take Watermanse. Venari desperately wanted to take the town, rape it for its resources, enslave the survivors, then use it as a forward base, harbor and all, to carry on her fight westward for the Hightec she so obviously craved.
But it was more than that. Watermanse was defying her. Venari wasn’t used to being defied. Even if she had been inclined to just bypass Watermanse, and just scrounge and forage her way westward, she wouldn’t now. I could feel it, a subtle, pervasive rage that infused her army—the parts of it that weren’t slaves, at least. She wouldn’t rest now until the town had been taken, its people punished.
We needed to use that. We couldn’t afford to let her dominate this fight with superior firepower, us
ing its cover to progressively rush and overwhelm the town’s defenses. We needed her to attack outright, flinging her troops at the emplacements and trench-lines. We needed to make the fight a lot more even than it was becoming.
I looked at Nicolet. “You have a choice. You can head west, then back east, and get inside Watermanse . . . just make sure you hug the lakeshore. Or you can do something else. Whatever you want.” I made myself smile. “Maybe head south. I hear it stays a lot nicer down that way once glory season is over.”
“You trying to get rid of me?”
“In a way . . . yeah, I am. Flint and I gotta head down into the middle of that mess. But we can’t do it with you—”
“Yeah, I know . . . I’d be a distraction.”
“Awfully attractive one, though, if that makes you feel better.”
She smiled back. “I get it. Look, you and Flint go do what you gotta do. Don’t worry about me.”
I nodded. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”
“Oh, you will,” she said, then put her arms around me. “Real soon . . . once this is all over and Osterway’s gone.”
We kissed, longer than we probably should have, given the circumstances. I must admit, a small part of me considered taking some time to do more than just kiss, but it was time we didn’t have.
We pulled apart. Nicolet looked into my eyes and said, “Be careful, ‘kay?”
“Always.”
Our embrace ended and I set off with Flint, heading downhill toward the growing rattle of gunfire.
My tech told me that the Osterway troops were hanging back from the Watermanse defenses, almost half-a-klick in some places. I had seen a few Watermanse casualties being evacuated back into town; I’d also seen some Osterway troops go down. The trouble was that Osterway could afford it, while Watermanse couldn’t. It was time to even up the battle.
Flint and I made full use of ground and cover, working our way close to Venari’s left flank, due south of the town. The rest of her line formed a curve back toward the lakeshore, running east, then northeast, then north, enclosing the town’s eastern and southern sides. We took down a patrol of Huntsmen, then pushed close to the static part of the force, under cover on high ground overlooking Watermanse.
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