This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between the characters, events, or locations in this story and actual locations, events, or people are purely coincidental.
© 2005 Warlord
Atlantis
By Warlord
I could only stand staring with my mouth open as Grid fell silent. Finally I spoke up. “Grid, who is this Jannah? What the fuck is going on here?”
There was a significant pause on Grid’s part, and then she blurted out an answer with the words running together. “Jannah is Queen Isobel’s younger sister, the Crown Princess. Jannah led several unsuccessful rebellions, attempting to depose Isobel and make herself Queen. Finally, Isobel tired of the incessant assassination and coup attempts, and exiled Jannah to a distant part of Atlantis, far away from the capital.”
Grid paused then continued in our silence, “Jannah used the remote location to stage a ruinous water-borne invasion of Egypt, that ultimately engulfed the entirety of Atlantis. This failed expedition against Egypt had much to do with our inability to secure passage when the earthquake disaster struck us.”
I shook my head incredulously as Grid continued, “Isobel was finally persuaded to put family loyalty behind her, too late heeding her advisors. Isobel at last exiled Jannah to Atalya, there to be guarded by the Euskotarak people. Jannah’s household retainers, troops, and bodyguards were ALL placed in crystal and were held there under close guard. Only Jannah remaining out of the electric realm, behind the wards that imprisoned her; she did not age.”
I asked in a questioning voice, “Sent where? Guarded by who?”
Alison’s voice came from right behind me as she answered, “The ones you know as Basque call themselves Euskotarak. They originally lived in the Pyrenees Mountains between Spain and France. I’d guess Atalya is there.”
Alison looked carefully at Jannah as she continued in a softer tone, “There is a large Basque population in Nevada. In fact, my Grandmother, a Basque, has lived here all her life. Those family connections are why I returned here after my military service.”
Grid commented slowly, “I do not know the name of the mountains as Pyrenees. Atalya is a sacred Euskotarak temple in a mountainous region far from Atlantis.”
Lisa, Adrienne, Tammy and Alison were all nodding as they were discussing the Basque links until finally Adrienne was saying in a ruminative tone, “The popular ‘Las Vegas’ version is that the Basque are here for the shepherding jobs, and because the high deserts of Nevada remind them of their homelands.”
We all nodded as she continued, “But what if there’s another explanation! What if they’re here because it’s the location of a cave full of their most sacred Atlantean artifacts? We saw a big part of this treasure looted into JW’s vault, but even what’s left here is a monumental cache.”
Tammy jerked her thumb, pointing at the four crystals behind us. She turned to Alison, saying, “I’m guessing that those crystals back there are your ‘sleepers'. Probably Jannah’s troops.”
Alison looked back at the big crystal pyramids, shaking her head as she said, “Another idiotic move by JW, undoubtedly focused on those big tits of hers. As soon as JW released some of Jannah’s bodyguards, she was very likely going to turn on him with their help. Any troops loyal enough to go into exile with her…”
Grid suddenly interrupted, “Champion, we have company. Several warded vehicles are at the valley entrance and are unloading armed and magically shielded men.”
Everybody’s head came up and there was a babble of questions, as we all started moving as one for the cave mouth. I was shaking my head.
As we walked, I gave instructions to Grid, talking in a more confident tone than I felt. “Grid, it's time to use some of that excess power. Please contact home base and call out the cavalry. We need some help here. I think I fucked up badly.”
Alison gave me a feral grin as she said in a dangerous tone, “Not really, Sir. We’ll fuck’em up, then you guys do your fly away thing, and I’ll exfiltrate the area.”
I turned, stopping her, as I said forcefully, “First off Alison, if we leave, you come with us. No body on my team is EVER left behind.”
Then, softer, as I released her shoulders, “Besides, I’ll be goddamned if I give up this cave without some serious pain.”
Now Alison smiled, saluting me briskly. She said happily, “Yes, Sir. Very good Sir. Serious pain coming right up!”
She led the way to the cave mouth, talking to the girls all the while, as I stood in the mineshaft and resumed my conversation with my little voice. Grid was asking, “Who shall I contact?”
I had to smile to myself even now as I said, “Paige and Claire. They’re attuned to us with their Cajun sorcery. Right about now Paige, my lovely nymphet is poised over her runes waiting for your call. Give her our GPS position, and then tell her that Aoife and reinforcements need to be here like yesterday.”
I could just feel Grid grimacing as she replied quietly, “Are you sure? Aoife is going to be so very angry with you, Sir.”
I nodded as I answered her, “No choice, I need my warrior here. I have other people to think about.”
Grid said very softly, “That includes Jannah. Don’t let Aoife alone with her if you wish Jannah to live. She wanted to garrote Jannah after the Egyptian fiasco and Isobel forbade it. Aoife will not be pleased that Jannah survived.”
I barked, “Like I need one more fucking thing!”
Grid giggled. “Yes, Sir. I’ll work on that signal to Paige now.”
I walked to the cave mouth to see Alison below, already busy at the Hummer’s tailgate, unloading ordnance. I paused before stepping off into the air, with a quick query for Grid.
“Grid, I want to reset the wards here.”
She replied briskly, “Step out, and then hold your staff immediately above the entrance.”
The swirl of the mixed colors was accompanied by an ozone smell as an electric sizzle joined the fog plugging the cave mouth. I did not pause to admire it. I quickly dropped down next to the preparations. Alison was dragging several duffle bags out onto the ground as she sorted through them. She looked at me, smiling as she commented dryly, “Man after my own heart, you brought plenty of toys for us to play with, Sir.”
She was holding two Claymore Bandoleers as she said this, setting them by the Hummer's back tire next to a largish stack of C4 explosive, rolls of Det cord, a spool of wire, and a blasting machine. Noticing my quizzical look, Alison explained quietly while continuing her tasks, “I was demolitions for many of my missions. Not surprising really, my father was a “Powder Man”, a dynamite salesman for Hercules Explosives. Just like Grandpa who worked for Atlas. I traveled the southwest with my Daddy as he sold and ‘shot’ the explosives at mines, dredgings, dams, and construction sites. At an early age, I assisted him in calculating charges, and then actually loading and fusing the dynamite. I came to have an intuitive feel for how to place charges for maximum effect. Military explosives came very easily to me, and I was promptly shunted into special ops.”
I looked at her preparations then asked loud enough for Tammy, Adrienne and Lisa to hear, “Suggestions, Alison?”
They quickly joined us as she responded, “Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir. With your permission, I’d like to use a retrograde tactic called “delay with subsequent positions.” The narrow valley terrain seems to favor this kind of tactic. We trade real estate for time by forming defensive positions that we hold for a time, bloodying them, delaying them. Finally, we fall back in good order to our real defensive position, holding that one decisively, until your help arrives. The Claymores and field expedient explosive devices will act as force multipliers for us, inflicting casualties as well as causing them to slow their advance. We will, however, need some time to prepare.”
I looked at her carefully as she smirked. Then I exclaimed, “You’re going to ‘mine’ those initial defensive positions, aren’t you?”
Alison nodded happily amidst the others’ confused looks, as she chortled, “Yes, sir, that’s called denial. When the bad guys capture them, they’re only going to have a short time to celebrate.”
Then Alison looked at me, asking seriously, “What are you thinking about, Sir?”
I replied quietly, “One thing. I’d like to hold off using magical weapons until the last. Surprise them, if we can, from that last bastion.”
There were nods as Tammy asked, “What about flyers? If they go over us and get behind us, the plan goes to shit.”
I nodded in agreement. “Good point. Okay, if they have flyers and we can’t quickly down them with gunfire, we'll use any and all magic to do them in.”
Alison nodded as she agreed, “Be a good shock effect if we can pull it off.”
I calmly continued, “You ladies need time. I thought I’d go down to the mouth of the basin where they’re staging and welcome them to the neighborhood. Then I'll fall back with harassing fire as they try to give chase.”
Alison grinned as she placed half a dozen M86 Pursuit Deterrence Munitions (PDMs) on the tailgate, saying, “Use these, it is what they’re designed for.”
Then, she continued as she pointed at the duffle bags on the ground, saying, “Those are filled to overflowing with various types of grenades. JW loved grenades; he especially loved fragmentation grenades. I always had to have more than a hundred M67 frag grenades with us at all times. Take all you want. You’re out front, you're the beginning of our delay defense in depth.”
Tammy looked at the big bags of grenades, shaking her head as she asked incredulously, “I wonder what that grenade fascination really says about JW?”
Alison laughed, speaking in a chagrined tone. “It says he was seriously fucked up, Tammy. But you guys already knew that, way ahead of me.”
Adrienne quickly hugged Alison, saying in a loving tone, “You’re on our team now, Alison, that’s all behind you. JW has no hold over you.”
Alison nodded happily, saying with a big smile, “Yes, thank you. I’m so glad to be here with you.”
I shook my head as I said softly, “Even in our present circumstances, Alison?”
Alison looked around, making eye contact with each of us as she said slowly, seriously, “Right now, I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be or anyone I’d rather be with.”
That clear statement immediately resulted in a five way hug with kisses all around. Alison took a moment to stripe my face and hands with blacking. Then she reached in and dug out her weapon, a Mark 4 carbine with a C-More dot sight on the upper receiver rail, with a 40-millimeter grenade launcher under the barrel, and a C-Mag one hundred round double snail drum. While this was going on, I dug through the duffle bags and cases, loading my pack, vest and pockets
She handed me my 7.62mm M1A Scout rifle, adding extra magazines, and then asking with another feral grin, “Anything else, Sir?”
I shook my head as I said, “Time to rock and roll. Keep safe, ladies. I’ll be right back.”
I did not get out of there without more kisses from all of them.
As I walked off into the trees, I took a last look back. Tammy was holding her Steyr AUG while Lisa held our 5.56mm Squad Automatic Weapon. Adrienne was grinning as she held a couple of bricks of C4 and a roll of Det cord. Alison had her carbine on her back as she assembled our Windrunner. It all looked good. I just hoped that we would stay whole until Aoife and the cavalry arrived.
I moved through the underbrush, and then began taking stretched, ten yard long ‘Grid augmented’ steps as I gained the jeep track. I said brightly, “Grid, let's just spot them before they see us.”
Grid answered in a quite serious tone, “I will not fail you my Champion; even if they are cloaked, I will sense them.”
My head was swiveling back and forth, looking up into the trees with every other elongated step.
I ‘floated’ in silence along the trail with my staff and sword on my back, my feet never seeming to touch the ground, while I held my rifle ready in my hands. It dawned on me that I was not feeling any weight from my backpack.
Come to think of it, my belt, vest, and pockets were crammed with heavy, highly lethal shit, and I was awfully light on my feet. Let's see, grenades weigh a pound each…
Grid snickered as she answered my unspoken question. “Michael Brady, at the same time that he was working with us to develop the night vision spells, showed us the heavy bullet-resistant vests with their metal armor-plating, and asked why we couldn't cast a spell to make them weightless to carry into combat. Perun, General Ulysse's assistant, took it further, asking why not all of it. The packs, swords and scabbards, and vests, the entire combat load weighing nothing on the soldier's backs. We found we couldn't do it. Not weightless. We can, however, make everything carried on your naked body weigh less than two pounds altogether, and also distribute that weight evenly across your entire frame. Everything means every item, including clothing and footwear.”
Damn, no wonder it all felt weightless. Two pounds was less than the boots, never mind any of the rest.
I accelerated, moving faster. All of the trails were poor; deeply rutted with big rocks and many tangles of roots, but I was making excellent time, my Grid-lengthened steps taking me over the worst of it.
Suddenly: “Psst.”
I stopped dead, immediately sliding silently into the thick brush next to the trail. I stood unmoving in the thicket, waiting. Finally Grid said softly, “Thank you, Champion. I don’t believe they can sense our communication. But why risk it by ‘shouting’? One person is posted about one hundred yards further along this trail, on the right side, and back off the trail five yards. Their encampment and staging area is several hundred yards behind him.“
I shook my head as I whispered, “One lookout?”
I could feel Grid nodding as I continued crossly, “They're always so fucking overconfident.”
I could feel Grid grinning, as I asked, “Amulets?”
Grid whispered her answer. “Yes, and there must be some sort of problem. They have a couple of large tents set up with men inside them, and they're making an attempt at generating a miasma field around them. Perhaps there are not enough amulets to go around, but somehow it seems rather sloppy and amateurish. Not the usual, high-quality, magical aggression that we’re used to dealing with.”
Now I was grinning at Grid’s annoyance at being attacked by this insulting level of wizard professionalism. I realized Grid was laughing silently. Grid whispered a question. “Feeling better?”
I nodded as she continued, “I needed to relieve the tension, Champion. You were too tight and too worried about making a mistake. Not at all your usual free wheeling, attacking self, Sir.”
I nodded. Grid was right. I was so worried about not making a mistake that I was bound to go right in there and fuck up right off the bat! Fuck that! My rifle went back over my shoulder, and I drew my Walther TPH, screwing the ‘can’ on the barrel threads. As my girl Alison said, “Serious pain coming right up.”
I eased perpendicularly away from the track, until I struck a faint game trail that paralleled the jeep track. I moved slowly and silently, with Grid keeping me apprised of the sentry's location and activity. Finally, crouching a few yards behind him, I studied the ground to pick my best route.
With my pistol up, I eased forward until the end of the suppressor was just touching his hair as I squeezed the trigger. The cough of the .25 caliber round discharge was almost indiscernible over the breeze that was blowing through the grass. The sentry slumped forward, and I grabbed his harness, pulling him backward into the deeper brush. Remembering admonitions from Aoife, I pulled the ivory-handled Orichalcum dagger off my forearm, and drove the point into his left eye, the slim blade following up to its hilt.
I knelt next to his body as Grid sensed vigilantly in all directions. She finally whispered, “All clear, no alarm.”
I stripped him, placing his amulet and personal effects in one of the cavernous inside pockets of my wizards robe. The dagger was wiped off on his clothes, and then went back in my wrist sheath. He had a Glock and an MP5 with several reload magazines for each. The pistol and reloads went in a side pocket and I hung the submachine gun around my neck. After listening to the sentry's radio for a few more minutes, I switched it off and hung it from my harness. I grimaced as I took an M67 grenade out of my pack. Holding the spoon carefully, I pulled the safety pin. I gently slid the grenade under the dead sentry’s prone body with the spoon held secure by his deadweight. I stood up, smiling as I said, “This shit works in the movies, Grid.”
Moving with careful haste, my scout rifle back in my hands, I crossed the jeep track until I found another game trail that would take me toward the valley entrance. Moving with confidence, I was soon kneeling behind a clump of buckthorn, observing the encampment at the entrance to the valley. The brush made a sudden transition into desert scrub once it lost the protection of the valley.
There were two rows of a half dozen vehicles, Hummers and pickups lined up in the sparse grass clumps and greasewood, with the two large tent canopies between the rows at ‘our’ end. The jeep track into the valley was at the other end of this line up. People were walking back and forth, paying little heed to the thick woods next to them. There was a cook fire between the two tents with a couple spectators, and several people were clustered around the back of one of the pick up trucks, drawing guns and ammunition.
Their lack of watchfulness had me feeling increasingly paranoid, and this led Grid to observe, “I can’t find anyone who considers an attack on the camp even a possibility. They plan to move up the valley and ambush you, taking you unaware, and slaughtering all of your people, and then capturing the cave and what it contains.”
Suddenly I started as I asked, “They don’t know it contains Jannah with all those Atlantis and Basque artifacts?”
After a long pause, Grid replied carefully, “No, Sir. They have been told to kill a group of people and to capture that cave in the process.”
I smiled wolfishly, silently whistling to my self as I prepared my weapons. I finally said to Grid, “Point out the next wizard to walk in front of us, please.”
I was watchful, not depending on Grid, but looking all around. I silently pushed the safety on my rifle forward, out of the trigger guard, as I waited. My mind was already centered, thinking past the first shots. Suddenly, “Psst.”
A tall, gray-haired man, dressed in black, walked into view, talking animatedly into a cell phone. I made one last scan up and down the lines of vehicles. I shouldered my rifle, finding his head in the center of field of the low power scope that was perched on the weapon forearm. I began to take up the slack on the trigger as the dot reticule settled on his ear. The stock pushed back against my shoulder, the barrel coming up slightly in recoil. I watched the cell phone fly to pieces as the wizard dropped to the ground, out of sight. I stepped away from the clump of brush into an open area. Turning, I shot one of the men next to the cooking fire as the others scattered and dove for cover. I stepped forward a pace and fired half a dozen rounds into the crowd that was standing by the pick up. It is a measure of their surprise that they left the guns, taking cover instead. Dropping the gun to waist level, I hammered a couple bullets into a fuel can on the back of the nearest Hummer.
Scanning up and down the row, I slung the rifle over my shoulder as I grabbed an M67 grenade out of my pocket. I pulled the pin and threw the armed grenade at the cook fire between the tents. I threw another toward the weapon truck and finally, the last one was tossed into the puddle of fuel splashing under the Hummer. I turned and ran back into the brush, using my ‘enhanced stride’ to almost instantly carry me deep into the screening underbrush.
Turning after a few hundred yards, I looked back to see my very obvious back trail I smiled as I set one of the small M86 PDM's unobtrusively in a clump of grass in the center of the trail. Then I pulled the safety pin and removed the arming strap before hastily moving further along the game trail. In thirty seconds, the PDM deployed seven, twenty-foot long trip wires in all directions. Disturbing any one of these wires would cause the PDM to bounce up six feet into the air and explode. This can be a “day-ruining” experience. This is why they call it Pursuit Deterrence! I dropped four more PDMs to form a miniature minefield before I moved nonstop away from the area.
My long enhanced steps carried me swiftly along the faint game trails for a mile before I paused to look back. I was gratified to see thick black smoke rising in the air. I took a moment to intently study my back trail before moving another mile of twisting game trails. I rejoined the jeep track just before its torturous, almost directionless wandering through the valley’s thick woods toward the cave.
Standing next to several trees with trunks more than a foot in diameter, I quickly drew my sword. I apologized to it for the abuse that I was about to bestow. Taking a balanced stance I swung the broad sword at the tree trunk about a foot off the ground. What I expected was to take a chunk out of the tree, and then finish chopping it down as one would with an axe.
What I got was entirely different!
On my back swing, the sword blade glowed brightly with the hilt warming in my hand. As I swung the blade forward, it seemed to pull my arm along, penetrating the foot thick green wood and severing it completely and effortlessly. The tree continued sitting up on the stump until I pushed it off with my free hand.
Cutting down a tree was abruptly no more effort than cutting a reed with a sharp machete. I dropped three more trees into a haphazard pile that completely blocked the jeep trail. Amazed, I returned the softly glowing sword to its scabbard.
I kneeled behind this heap of freshly cut trees, looking through the leaves as I set the captured MP5 on a stump. I began drinking thirstily from my water bottle.
As I relaxed, I could hear gunfire and men shouting in the distance. Across a broad front, long bursts reverberated from an MP5, interspersed with pistol shots. Taking the radio captured from the sentry, I set it on the stump and then turned it on to hear constant excited chatter.
I frowned, asking Grid what was happening? Grid answered with a giggle, “They’re confused, my Champion.”
“Confused, Grid?”
You could hear the satisfaction in Grids voice as she replied, “They think they’re the only ones who can hide with magic. After your quite surprising appearance, attacking in the middle of their camp, and then finding the wizard sentry you killed, they are terrified. Not knowing what else to do, they shoot at shadows and clumps of brush.”
I nodded, then jerked in surprise as I blurted, “Wizard! You never said anything about that sentry being a wizard.”
Grid smiled happily as she replied, “Perhaps I forgot to mention it. It's not important as you killed him without alarm.”
Before I could amplify my annoyance about Grid’s omission, the radio traffic changed. Voices were now barking orders and getting things organized. Vehicles were lining up to enter the forest.
I looked down the track trying to see through the brush as I asked quietly, “What have we got now, Grid?”
Grid answered, now more seriously, “The wizards leading this expedition are infuriated. They ordered an immediate chase after your attack, and that ended badly with casualties. When the survivors staggered back to the camp, these magical leaders had to kill some of their own people to quell a near mutiny. Now the vehicle column is forming at the entrance to the woods. These vengeful wizards are emphatic that their followers will advance to kill everyone.”
I pointed, asking, “Up this road?”
Grid answered soberly, “Yes, my Champion; right to this barrier.”
I shrugged. “Nobody lives forever.”
Grid smiled, “No, Sir.”
I began stacking MP5 magazines next to the MP5. I set my last PDM where it could be deployed quickly; along with the M67 and white smoke grenades. The felled trees formed my impromptu breastworks; however, it wouldn’t last long against a serious assault. I just needed to sort out methods to make their attack less serious.
I had a question for Grid while we waited:
“Grid, could you fly an inanimate object out there a couple hundred yards?”
Grid affirmed as I continued by holding up a grenade:
“See this? You know how this works. I want you to fly half a dozen of these out to just where the track turns toward us. When the first truck is fully in sight I’ll open fire and I want you to detonate the grenades.”
Grid affirmed again, saying:
“Yes Sir, I can do that. You want me to space them out?”
I agreed. “Yeah, good thought.”
Like a weird special effect, the six grenades lifted off the ground and flew in formation around the bend in the trail. I was kneeling, sipping my water, reloading my rifle, and fussing with my ordnance, when I heard the engines growling on the trail. I finished my water, carefully setting the water bottle on the ground out of my way. I shut off the radio and clipped it to my harness. I lifted the MP5 off the stump and rolled the selector switch to full auto.
Grid softly whispered, “I will not fail you, Champion.”
I nodded as a black Hummer SUT appeared around the curve, approaching me at a good clip. It was followed by a gray H1. I smiled, coming upright, and I raised the submachine gun stock to my shoulder. I centered the front sight on the driver's side windshield, squeezing off a long burst.
The glass disintegrated. Another long burst blasted the passenger side. The lead truck nosed into a stand of brush along the trail's edge, and stopped fifty yards from me, stalling the column of vehicles. The whip crack of the grenades, exploding one after another, barely penetrated my awareness as I focused on my tasks.
Burst after burst from my gun sprayed the killing zone with grazing fire. I was not aiming at individuals so much as at places where they might hide or at routes they might use to press forward.
I reloaded the MP5 with my last magazine as I paused. Looking around, I couldn’t see anyone. But that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. I set the gun aside as I threw a series of fragmentation and smoke grenades out into a semicircle in front of my tree fort. The fallen trees protected me from fragments.
Letting the smoke build, I picked up my sub-machine gun and flipped the sling loop around my neck. I triggered a scattered series of short bursts as I set my last PDM on a tree stump. When the MP5 slide locked back, I dropped the gun and reached down to arm the PDM. Turning in one motion, I was running away, deeper into the Yucca forest as fast as my enhanced strides could carry me.
After running a couple of miles, I crossed a dry streambed. This part of the valley trail was crooked, narrow, and deeply rutted, and it was closely bordered by thick forest. It had been slow going for us, and we didn't have potential ambushes to worry about. I decided to leave another delay for the enemy. Picking out a large tree and severing it with a single sword stroke, I pushed it into the trail lengthwise with the tree crown facing my pursuers and the trunk blocking the middle of the trail.
I moved up the trail, finding a couple of huge rocks right next to it. The trail turned sharply just past these rocks. The rocks touched each other, forming a narrow ‘V,’ and by sitting behind the rocks with my rifle in this natural battlement, I had an excellent line of sight to the felled tree.
Grid announced, “They’ve abandoned their vehicles and are advancing on foot after more upheaval in the ranks.”
I flipped off the safety, asking her, “Soon?”
Grid said, “Yes.” It seemed like only moments, but was almost certainly longer, before the first figure pushed through the branches of the felled tree’s crown, followed by four more. Their discipline had evaporated as they were dragging people through the brush, bitching loudly the whole time. One short, fat and quite bald individual was pointing and yelling. I decided he was an officer; if not, it was a good place to start!
I smiled, raising my scout rifle with the butt plate settling into position against my shoulder. The dot sight was steady on the back of that bald head. Squeezing the trigger, the muzzle suddenly lifted as he dropped. I moved the gun barrel sideways, back and forth, firing continuously just as quickly as I could cover someone with that ‘dot’ sight. As I changed magazines, I could see figures lying across the log with others slumped on the ground. Eyes peering over the log were trying to draw a bead on me. I fired my next magazine as fast as I could, with my bullets just skimming the top of the log. Reloading, I decided not to overstay my welcome. I fired pairs of rounds low into the tree branches and along the trail. Abruptly, I crouched and backed away from my position until I was in the jeep trail. I pivoted, stood up and ran.
I was moving as fast as I could among the shadows. If nothing else, I was getting goddamn good at running away!
I asked Grid a question that was bothering me. “Grid, why don’t these guys just get off the trail?”
Grid laughed. “Champion, you are assuming certain outdoors skills that are not present in your enemies. Their unshielded thoughts are of people who dislike this wilderness environment and are thoroughly uncomfortable. That is a large part of their unrest as the wizards now force their compliance.”
I nodded. “So fly over us and grab the cave.”
Grid smiled. “The wizards have asked for volunteers, but no one wishes to be suspended in the air to be made into a clay pigeon. That’s the recurrent phrase anyway. In truth, the wizards themselves have no stomach for flying. They are very uneasy about your possible capabilities.”
I laughed. “Good! Fuck’em if they can’t take a joke.”
I went back to running with my long steps focused on avoiding the ruts and rocks, when I came around a curve to hear, “Hey, sailor!,” followed by a burst of laughter. I must have looked like a character from an old Warner Brothers cartoon, skidding to a stop in a cloud of dust.
In the gloom it was hard to see through the brush to Tammy’s waving figure. She and the rest were standing in a row of waist deep holes paralleling the trail. What seemed odd to me was that the depression directly across from them seemed to have natural cover, even with a couple logs to hide behind.
Before I could comment on it, lovely ladies had me surrounded, demonstrating their happiness. Alison interrupted my greetings to say in a businesslike tone, “Good job slowing them down, sir.”
I nodded and responded, “Yeah, but they’re still coming and not that far behind me. Sorry.”
She shook her head. “No, you bought us the time we needed. We’re ready.”
“Psst.”
I quietly said, “They’re here.”
Alison nodded as she smiled, pointing down the trail:
“Find your spot, about fifty yards over there. I’d like you shooting down their throats after I open the ball. Need anything?”
I held up my captured MP5. Adrienne tossed me a couple of loaded magazines. I trotted down the track to crouch behind another overgrown thicket. Waiting was never my strong suit, but it wasn’t a long wait. Just like deer hunting; the figures materialized on the trail, moving in a clump. I didn’t need Grid to tell me that the wizards were herding them forward.
Just then, earsplitting explosions rippled down the road, with lightning flashes and clouds of smoke. Clouds of dust enveloped the column as projectiles from a row of Claymores shredded the enemy "soldiers." I rolled out into a low prone position on the trail, firing single shots in a steady cadence. Some of the survivors dived for cover next to the trail as they begin to sporadically return fire. Moments later their position exploded. Bodies were thrown into the air as logs splintered and rocks flew.
The wizards rallied their remaining troops on the trail into a desperate charge. The attack lunged off the trail and through the brush, falling on the freshly dug holes just used by my ladies. Before I could react to their sudden success, or worry about casualties, gunfire erupted next to me directed at the holes and followed immediately by another explosion as the foxholes disappeared in a cloud of choking dust.
I looked up the trail to see a figure in black standing right at the edge of the trees. I fired quickly into his body, but the bullet had no effect. Standing up, I left the rifle on the ground, grabbing the staff from my back just as he fired a lance of white hot energy at me.
I held my staff horizontally chest high. The staff glowed bright blue as it absorbed the power with my body surrounded in the resulting blue aura. The wizard’s shocked expression disappeared in gouts of flames, as my staff countered his attack with blue fire. His body was consumed to ashes in seconds.
Two more wizards turned and fled swiftly, rising into the air. I threw my self into the air right behind them, accelerating out of the trees into the twilight.
They must not escape to bring reinforcements.
My staff now held pointing at them. The last one looked over his shoulder and then began to throw energy balls at me. I knocked them aside with the staff as they exploded harmlessly. I threw my own tennis ball sized energy ball. It exploded against the wizard's waist, blowing his body in half. The parts rained down on the forest below as I sped after his partner.
As I closed on the last wizard, I threw energy balls and my staff lanced blue fire at him to no effect as he continued to speed away. I finally caught up with him and struck at him with my staff. The blow sent him spinning. He hit a tree with full force, bending backward. With his spine shattered, he fell into the woods.
I stopped my flight and hovered I asked Grid if any more wizards were in the air.
She answered softly, “No, my Champion. These were the only ones to fly.”
I landed next to the injured wizard as he lay struggling. I looked at him carefully. His expression remained implacable, while he seemed to be summoning magical reserves. It was time to end this. As I touched him with my staff, his aura collapsed. I stepped forward with sword in hand. One stoke severed his head, ending his fight. I stood staring at the dead wizard for a moment, and then I told Grid, “Mark their body locations well. We will return to collect their remains. No evidence shall remain to be found by their allies. Let them puzzle over the mystery.”
I paused, standing over the body as I asked Grid, “What’s happening on the trail?”
Grid answered, after a brief pause, “The attacks are ended, and the attackers are dead or dying. No wizards live. Your lady loves are unscathed and are mopping up now.”
I nodded, saying quietly, “If they have the situation under control, I’ll go to their staging area at the mouth of the valley.”
After cleaning the blade, I slid my sword back into the scabbard. Holding my staff, I rose out of the trees. Staying just above the trees and weaving in and out of the tallest ones, I headed for the attacker's camp at the mouth of the valley. I settled to the ground in the brush at the edge of their camp. The blackened remains of the Hummer was a reminder of my last visit.
Looking carefully at the scattered vehicles and one tent
canopy that was still upright, I asked Grid, “What have we got here?”
Grid answered tentatively, “There is one wizard with an amulet near several shielded life signs. I am puzzled. Champion, this wizard is not at all powerful.”
I shook my head, saying, “Careful, Grid. That ‘not at all powerful’ shit can get a guy killed. But what the fuck! Let’s have a look."
I stepped out into the open. Bodies were stacked under the half-collapsed canopy next to the cook fire. Holding my staff in my left hand, I stepped around the burned hulk of the Hummer. Behind it, I saw a Chevy pick up truck with a camper shell. Sitting on the open tailgate was a young waif of a girl, dressed in black.
She spotted me and leapt to her feet. Before she could launch any attack or defense I fired an energy ball past her left ear and then one past her right. I barked, “On your knees.”
She crumpled, sagging in defeat. I walked up, and prodding her with my staff, I asked sharply, “Who are you and why should I let you live?”
She looked up at me through her long dark hair, saying in an anguished voice, “Margit. My name is Margit. Please don’t kill me, Lord Wizard. I give you my loyalty, even to become your slave. Just let me live.”
I looked down at her as I said harshly, “You tried to destroy me. Why do you deserve mercy?”
Margit shook her head emphatically, speaking more clearly. “No, My Lord, not by my choice. The dark wizard who held me in thrall brought me here. He left me to guard these captives as he pursued you. I felt his mastery slip away. You killed him. Now I am yours.”
I shrugged, not wholly understanding; then I hastily asked, “Captives?”
Margit sat up now as she answered, “Yes, Your Lordship. There are six women in the back of this truck. They were collected from the streets. My dark lord was planning to celebrate your defeat and his triumph by killing them in a ceremony tonight.”
Margit saw my expression at her revelation. She immediately ducked face down in the dirt with her hands over her head begging for mercy. I was this close to frying her ass.
I stopped, taking a deep breath, and finally saying wearily, “What the fuck is it with you people killing women?”
Margit just looked surprised. “You do not understand, My Lord? Those you kill by your own hand, you consume their life force. It becomes yours. If they are magical — wizards and mages — then their power passes to you with their life force as they die. My late wizard believed that he must kill some with his hands by strangling, then others with his blade to maximize his power and, of course, his enjoyment. Tonight was to be his greatest celebration; he brought these six to die for his pleasure.”
I was intrigued now as I asked, “Celebration?”
Margit nodded as she answered excitedly, “Yes, My Lord. He had been studying ancient texts and magical fluxes. He told me that he found a vast magical treasure in the Nevada desert. We came here to find this cave with its intricate and dangerous wards. He did not attempt to breach the wards, instead leaving his own spider web to alert him when you returned.”
I smiled; it wasn’t a pretty smile, saying more calmly than I felt, “Your wizard was merely waiting for someone to go to the caves? He did not know what they actually contained?”
Margit nodded. “No, My Lord. You were to be killed by him, thus absorbing your life force and power. Your wards would collapse and the cave’s treasure, whatever it was, would be his. The fête that followed would have been monstrous. In truth, My Lord, I do not believe that I would have survived his awe-inspiring blood lust.”
I shook my head, responding quietly. “This killing thing? It’s not working for me, Margit. I’ve gained nothing magical from the wizards that I’ve killed. Other than unease that I’m becoming just a bit too comfortable with it.”
Margit sat up staring at me with a critical eye as she answered quickly, “My Lord may not feel it, but it is there. No aura was visible as you approached me, Sire. Then as you contemplated magical combat, the most awesome aura blossomed around you like a massive pale blue flower. Master, I experienced the flux of power surges from you as this vast magical power you’ve harnessed swirls around you.”
She continued ruminatively as I stood listening. “He should have bested you easily, Sire. He was well schooled with many powerful spells and stout shields. He had killed uncounted mortals and many wizards, absorbing much life force -- his power was incomparable. Yet you killed him without difficulty. When I show your lordship his estate, his slaves, his wealth that is now ALL yours, then you will understand the vast riches that flow to a potent mage like yourself, My Lord.”
I shook it off as I said sharply, “Enough talking, Margit. Stand for me that I may search you.”
Margit shivered at my words. I roughly searched her, cutting away her amulet with my Orichalcum blade. Tearing buttons and slicing huge rents in her blouse and skirt, I manhandled an unresisting Margit. Finally I pushed her to her knees. Then taking a deep calming breath, the anger leaving me as suddenly as it came, I continued, “Get the women out of the truck and get some water in them. If any die, then you die.”
The sun was setting here on the desert. The canyon was already deep in shadow. I tossed a magical light ball the size of a basketball up onto the camper shell. I tossed a tennis ball sized one inside the shell, helping Margit to see the bound and hooded captives.
She was dragging them out, one after another, sitting them against the side of the truck.
I wandered around the area collecting wood. I piled it up, lighting it with a fire spell. Margit was removing the hoods and gags from the captives, while stripping the silk tape from their wrists and ankles.
Warming my hands against the desert chill, I studied the sitting captives in the firelight. I looked carefully into their vacant eyes and then resignedly asked Grid, “They’re all brain burned aren’t they, Grid?”
I felt the grimace as Grid answered, “Yes, Sir. The wizard’s intention was to slay them almost immediately. He was quite brutal in ripping apart their psyches. He left only enough awareness that they would be easy to handle, while being properly terrified when he butchered them.”
I looked over at Margit as she worked, asking Grid, “And what of her? Is she truly enslaved?”
Grid answered quickly, “Margit was enslaved, profoundly connected to her ‘dark wizard’ who you killed with your sword. You have absorbed his life force and accumulated magical power. In so doing, you have reforged those overpowering bonding connections. Margit is now your slave, deeply joined to you. All his slaves everywhere are enslaved to you.”
I stood a moment in shocked silence. Standing by the truck's tailgate, removing my pack and combat vest, and emptying my pockets allowed me to center myself through the simple tasks of divesting my combat load. Finally, I just returned to warming my hands as my mind tried to catch up. Soon enough, I was back to watching Margit. She rounded up some water bottles. She gave one to me, then made sure that the captives drank their fill. Finally Margit was kneeling near me, warming herself by the fire and sipping her own water. She was alternating between staring into the fire and glancing at me.
I looked at Margit as I quietly asked her, “Were you his apprentice, then?”
She shook her head emphatically, looking amused. “Oh no, My Lord. I was his lackey, a menial that he gave some small ability to, and merely as a convenience for him.”
I shook my head at that as I asked Margit, “What do you know of a wizard council?”
Margit frowned in thought as she answered, “There is no wizard council, My Lord. Perhaps a thousand years ago. Now there are too many factions, dozens of groups of wizards, and hundreds of lone wizards intent only on their self-interest. All think themselves powerful and none will accept mastery.”
She looked carefully at me in the firelight as she continued, “Sire, it is odd that you ask that question. My dark Lord, whom you killed, wanted such a council with himself as its leader. The magical artifacts that he planned on collecting from the cave were to boost his magical supremacy. Also, by distributing part of the booty to allies, he would enhance his status and authority, allowing him to begin formation of a council. Membership was to be voluntary, of course, to begin, but finally forcing compliance on the holdouts.”
Now I grinned, as I commented, “With only a very tiny tax paid by each wizard to the supreme leader, to finance this noble work.”
Margit laughed at that as she nodded. “Yes, My Lord, he did indeed plan that each wizard would pay dues, as well as obey him and his council.”
I shook my head now as I thought about the daunting task of forming such a group from scratch. I asked quietly, “What of the wizards and gatherings of wizards that no one knows about?”
Any wizard council was far beyond anything I wanted to tackle. As I stood at the fire, I commented to Grid, “I have been remiss, Grid. Contact my ladies and inform them that this camp is under control. Ask if they need assistance.”
Grid smirked you could just feel it as she answered, “I have been in contact with them and with Paige and Claire. Reinforcements are in the air. The cave and the area around it are quite secure. They wanted to know if you needed assistance with your tasks.”
I laughed as I shook my head. “No, I’ll soldier through.”
I stood, thinking; then I said calmly, “My warrior Aoife is to come directly to me. Furthermore, the cave is not to be approached or opened until I am present.”
Grid answered quickly, “Yes, Sir, all will be informed. Aoife will be here. The cave will be untouched.”
Looking down at the subservient figure of Margit kneeling in her shredded clothes, I contemplated her slave status with increasing arousal. I was horny! Margit with her eyes downcast, gazing at my crotch and licking her lips just fueled my excitement.
I looked down in surprise; my hand was slowly stroking my now fully exposed hard cock. Margit, her eyes shining in the firelight, stared at my dick, her tongue continually wetting her lips with her mouth slackly open. She slowly knee walked closer, her gaze fixed on my engorged cock.
Margit’s lips touched my cock in a soft kiss, her mouth opening. My fingers settled in her hair as she began to slowly ease my cock deep into her hot, wet mouth. My arousal was intensifying as her fingers cradled my balls. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, her tongue lashing the piss hole. My balls tingled as my cock spasmed, spraying her mouth. She gulped my spending. Licking and sucking my softening cock before tucking it away, she knelt with her forehead against my thigh.
I looked up to see my warrior, Aoife stride into the lighted area like a stalking lioness. In her angry posture, she looked magnificent and altogether dangerous. Her eyes snapped in the firelight as she spoke, without preamble, and in an angry growl, “I will kill her. You, My Champion, cannot prevent it. She must DIE.”