046 – Size Up The Locals, Size Up The Invaders

Abey brightened. “That is easy then. Steven, using your glasses, find the one man among the caravan who looks different or more aristocratic than the rest. I remember that there was one who insisted on wearing a different cloak than the rest.”

“Right.” Steven got his binoculars and started scanning. “Among about a hundred thirty men below us, find the tall man with one red shoe.”

Abey had grown used to Steven’s non sequiturs, and let this pass.

First Steven looked over the last of the leaving wagons. But they were too far and turned another corner before he could get a good look. Then he scanned the group below, wagon by wagon. In the middle of the group, Steven counted seven men around a wagon, with five ‘busy’ while two stood and watched. All the other wagons had everybody ‘busy.’

“I think I found him. Sixth wagon from the left, seven men around it, five busy.”

As Caspian tossed Cyrril out to have a look, Abey looked around.

“Where are we?” Abey turned Steven around. “You are a military man. What would you attack here? Why are we here?”

Steven looked the place over. For all of the stone work, and not being near the edge, it all looked the same to Steven, initially. Then he began to see the signs. Coats of arms that way, large structures without low windows toward the interior, several visible streets with the same symbol hung under lamps as far as could be seen on the street, a different symbol for each street. This took about ten minuets. Caspian was standing watching, and doing nothing in that time, Cyrril was somewhere below.

“I don’t recognize the symbols, but this appears to be a place of commerce. Definitely a good place to start, if you want to cause chaos.” Steven turned back. In time to see several of the carts blow up.

They did not blow up big, or destructively, just very smoky. Steven would later compare it to a giant flash-bang stun grenade, with a giant smoke grenade. Booms echoed from other parts of the city. A thick white smoke quickly filled the square, and started drifting on the air currents. Some went up, some down, and the rest along the level the carts had been on.

Steven had unconsciously counted a dozen red uniforms visible in proximity to the square. Bowmen from within the cloud quickly shot all the red uniforms that could be seen.

Steven watched the smoke spread and eight men in red go down by the archers. “Well, this is going to be a mess.”

Steven pulled his cross bow off his back and then pulled hard on the charging handle. From the bag on his right hip he pulled a bolt, and notched it in place. He was about to shoulder it and look for a target when Caspian returned to them.

“This is going to take a bit of time, to get that man away from his cohort. To do that we are going to need to move quickly, independently. I am going to put some spells on you. They will only last a short time, but it should be long enough for this battle.”

Steven did not think to argue, and Abey was not given time to form any.

First Caspian cast a spell on them that made them feel a bit tingly. “That should make you durable enough.”

Then he cast a spell on Steven’s boots. Caspian finished, and frowned. “That should have worked,” he muttered.

He repeated the spell on Abey’s boots. “That took fine.”

He tried again on Steven’s and frowned. “Fine if not the boots, then the socks.”

This time Steven felt his feet get lighter.

Caspian put the spell on his own boots. Then explained. “I have just cast a spell on your footwear to allow you to safely jump the distances around here, up, down and across. I also put a spell on your bodies that should keep you unharmed should you miss or fumble, as well as decide to jump all the way down. But it is on your body, not your equipment, so be careful. This spell will last about a half hour. Don’t jump up into a roof.”

Abey looked over the edge, slipping into hunter-role. “It looks like they are moving out, up the road that the others went. You say these spells will let us jump about, the way you got us up here?”

Caspian nodded. “Yes.” He got onto the balcony and then leapt for the roof on the next level down.

His cloak caught the air and billowed, then collapsed to a streamer behind him as he fell. Steven looked at Abey, and took a breath and leapt after Caspian, holding his crossbow high with his right hand, using his left to balance. Abey followed. They landed slower and lighter than expected, and trotted along the flat edge of the roof up the street in the direction the other wagons had gone. They came to the edge of this level and leapt down to the roof tops of the level the wagon had been on.

Steven noticed that there were no red shirts around. Later he would remember the irony of that color, at least from his cultural literary perspective. For now that color only meant local law enforcement; none were in evidence. Through the smoke, Steven could see two columns of men in dark uniforms trotting up the road, in clusters of three: one had a long bow, one a short bow and one a sword or other melee weapon. Steven stopped and knelt, drawing a bead with his crossbow on a man holding a longbow at half ready, fifty feet away.

The noise of the crossbow discharging was louder than Steven liked, but it was quieter than any firearm. His sniper training had been reawakening to a drowsy level as he hunted on his way here. Now as he knelt and drew a bead on a man where his shoulder and neck joined, and the armor opened, his skills at killing came to the fore, and as soon as the bolt was on its way, he pulled back and was moving away behind this roof’s edge as quietly and as low as he could.

Abey and Caspian had sense enough that they had moved away as Steven had knelt.

Steven expected a clatter of gun fire and rounds hitting the stones of the building to respond to his efforts. These bowmen did not even send one shaft in his direction. Steven considered this; either they were well trained not to shoot without a target, or he had the jump on then so well they were not yet aware of his presence and activity. He just had to be careful not to press his luck.

Ahead, the road opened into another larger intersection. Locals were crouched on the roofs and balconies here. A constable, red tunic over armor, was crouched among the five darkly dressed people on the balcony on this side as Caspian leapt the road, and almost got attacked for his efforts. The smoke was mostly thin wisps here, with the front of the column below in view coming up the block, and in range of the archers. Abey followed at an angle to Caspian, and landed a bit further from the intersection, and stopped after she landed. Steven followed and landed near her.

They crouched and moved over to where the crouching constable had Caspian on his back with a sword to his neck. Steven came up.

“I just shot one of the longbow men. Let him up, if you please. We just arrived this morning, ahead of The Mountain Wolves, after traveling with them the last few days.” Steven said this as a way of introduction.

Steven pulled on the charging handle on his cross bow. “The bad guys are walking up the road in two columns, one on either side, just clear of the over hangs, groups of three, longbow man, short bow man, and one with a sword, or some other hand weapon. There were fourteen wagons parked back there, six more came in this direction. By our count, there are six men per wagon, with some carrying a seventh, getting to about two hundred men coming this way. We figure the overall leader is in this group coming in this direction.”

Steven had put a new bolt into the crossbow, always keeping the weapon pointed out at the street.

The constable took this in, and finally spoke. “Who’s hired you?”

Steven thought he caught the immediate undercurrent. “No one. My wife was kidnapped and sold as a slave. With the wizard, I have tracked her probably here. As we came, we crossed that dark shirted caravan’s path, something seamed wrong with them. Two days later we encountered the Wolves. The rest is as I said.”

The constable considered, as the first clusters of the enemy approached. The wizard was being still, not even trying to resist. They had the wrong costume, for invaders. Those below wore the uniform of the kingdom directly south. He had not been warned of any other infiltrators, and the report said no wizards and no women were among them.

Abey kept herself aside, but taking everything in.

Finally the requirements of the moment took over the situation. The constable let go of the wizard, and turned back to his militia squad. The story was so unlikely that it was most likely true. As it was, his orders were to take down as many of the enemy as his militia men could, without getting them killed if possible. No prisoners and no pursuit.

Steven moved toward the edge, looking back down the street. The first group was almost before them. The bowmen on the street were looking over the roofs on the other side of the road from them. All of the bowmen had arrows knocked, some at part pull.

Steven looked about, as he pulled back from the edge. He could see that there were militia men on roofs or crouched on the balconies around them, a few constables or guardsmen with them. Steven wondered whether this group could put up a fight against regulars. Then he put this aside, and took up the crossbow ready to draw a bead. He waited for a bit, and then turned to look at the constable, watching to see if he had some kind of signal to give.

The militia were all armed with crossbows, and taking aim. The constable had a short bow ready. Steven saw that all of them were well back from the edge. Then a flight of arrows and crossbow bolts flew from the other side of the street. This side released immediately after.

Steven turned to his weapon, and looked for a target. Quickly he found a target and fired. The man fell as Steven’s bolt impaled in his neck. Steven pulled back, and turned. As a sniper he was almost never this close to a fight. Neither was he used to a fight as slow as crossbows required. The bowmen who were still standing were already pulling bowstrings and aiming at targets. The militia men were already ducking away, behind the stonework of the balcony.

Steven got up to a crouch and moved along the balcony. Abey followed as he passed. Caspian also got up and followed. Steven stopped at the constable. The man was trying to help a boy with a crossbow.

Steven watched as the man pulled the boys bow string to place. Then asked a question.

“What’s up this road?” This question was the final straw removing any doubt as to whether Steven was a local in any measure.

The constable turned to Steven. “Eventually, The Palace. If you don’t know that, you are not from any where around here.”

Steven stated the militarily obvious. “I expect that is their target.”

The constable gave Steven a ‘no kidding’ look, but Steven had already turned away. Steven went to the end of the block with Caspian and Abey following, and then he looked over the balcony edge and almost caught an arrow in his face for his troubles as he pulled back into a crouch behind the balcony wall. His observation skills were already returning.