Princess Rescue Inc (53 page)

Maximus
turned to view them and then back to Perry. “Yes, they guard the Dominus
possessions and guard him and his entourage when they go to and from castles.”

“Ah.
Okay, so they're out I take it?” Perry asked. He damn well needed to know this
shit and wondered why no one had fully briefed him.

Maximus
shrugged. “Well, they'll fight alongside their lords when we go to war.”

“But
not until then,” Perry sighed. He rubbed his brow. Another headache was forming.
“Great. So we're stuck with finding the man power around town?”

Maximus
nodded. “Essentially. At least until after the first harvest,” the captain
said.

“Oh,”
Perry grimaced. “And when is that?”

“About
three months from now,” Maximus replied. He was referring to midsummer.

“Oh.
Ew, yuck.”

“They'll
need the harvest. Most of the serfs are low on food as it is from the last
winter. Some have no food at all and are hunting to feed their families.”

“Ah,”
Perry sighed. “Crap. You know anything about Clausewitz?”

Maximus
frowned. “Who my lord?”

Perry
waved it off. “Never mind. He's a military genius from earth. Anyway he's got
this saying. Ask me for anything but time. Some other genius said time waits
for no man.”

The
captain's brows knit. “And this is significant?”

Perry
frowned. He would have thought the guard captain would have grasped the concept
immediately. “Well, it means while we wait other things can happen, bad
things.”

Maximus
blinked and then frowned. “Oh, but sometimes all you can do is wait and watch,”
the captain said nodding.

“Yeah,
there's that,” Perry sighed. “There is that. But we're not going to stay still.
I'll get on Max about ramping up on the weapons and gear.” They had a working
prototype of the musket but didn't have any in production. They also had one
semi-functional Springfield. Semi-functional being the operative word. The damn
thing jammed on every shot due to poor machining tolerances.

“If
we don't have the men...”

“Well,
if we can get some modern farm equipment out, that could make the difference in
that department. I think Ryans is trying to do that,” Perry said. Which was
true, but for other reasons. Ryans had multiple reasons but he'd thought it was
a supply issue for the army. Now he knew better. Apparently Ryans had seen the
bigger picture immediately. He decided to stop bitching about Max dividing his
time between the rifle project and the farm machinery and smithy upgrades.

“Ah,”
the captain looked thoughtful. “I see. Wise, will this equipment make things
better?”

“Yeah.
Some will allow one man to do the work of ten.”

Maximus
thought that one over for a moment. “And so the other nine can go to work in
the factories, or the mines, or as soldiers.” The captain smiled and nodded.
“Indeed it's a wise plan.”

Perry
nodded grudgingly. Okay, so the captain could catch on in time. “Yeah well,
let’s hope it works. I'll just go track down Ryans and put a bug in his ear.”

“Why
would you...” The captain stopped as Perry kept going.

“Never
mind. Never mind!” Perry said shaking his head.

<==={}------------>

“Do
they even trade with the other nations? Are there other nations?” Ryans asked
Perry as they left a meeting.

Perry
snorted. He'd caught Ryans just in time for another blasted meeting. He wanted
to talk to him about the farm situation but now apparently wasn't a good time;
he was too distracted by something else. The bigger picture apparently. “As far
as I can tell, there are six or seven large organized Imperium’s or Kingdoms, a
couple of small independent grand Duke Kingdoms, and a couple of areas that are
inhabited by nomads. I haven't looked into it too much. I've got enough in
front of me as it is.”

Ryans
sighed. “Yeah, just what I thought. People everywhere. Just this continent?” he
asked looking at Perry as he scratched his head.

“No,
apparently a Viking group came over and set up across the sea or ocean or
whatever it is. There are others too, scattered here and there. Some on
islands, others I don't know, a continent I guess. Apparently they either moved
there, or landed there. You pick. You'll have to get more from the historian,
he's such a wind bag I tuned him out,” Perry growled in disgust. Ryans
chuckled. “Wish we could read their writing better. Bitch having to scan
everything in and do it that way. Takes hours,” Perry sighed.

“We'll
figure something out. The ancient writing is almost pure Latin so that's
do-able. Done actually,” Ryans said nodding. “It's on the to do list at any
rate. How are the drills going?”

“Too
early to tell. Waters has his hands full. He had a hell of a time establishing
his authority. Had to send a couple of hard heads to Doc to be patched up
before they figured out who was boss.”

Ryans
snorted. “Had to prove he's the tough man on campus?”

Perry
smiled. “Something like that. I prefer to think of it as proving he's the alpha
male. All DI's go through it in the initial stages of training, or in this
case, retraining. He's got to establish his authority to both the old sweats
and the newbies and show them just what they could do if they put their minds
to it. For some reason the Gunny didn't have much trouble.” Ryans nodded. “Now
that they're finally willing to listen after his... demonstrations, they're
starting to shape up. He's got a calisthenics class going and a crude boot camp
started.”

“Ah,”
Ryans nodded. He'd known all that of course but Perry was being very close
mouthed about details. “I'll see if we can get him supplies to set up and
expand,” he sighed. “After they settle down a little.” He indicated the meeting
room.

“Oh,
it's easier and harder than that. Sure we need wood, but we can always send
some recruits out to cut some  wood and haul it back. Makes a good team
building exercise,” Perry smiled wickedly.

“That's
evil, I love it,” Ryans said and nodded. “Go for it. I'll clear it with the
brass.” Ryans clapped him on the shoulder then they split up.

<==={}------------>

Nate
watched Sydney trying to get an image of a ten meter tall tapestry. It was long
but narrow, less than two meters wide. It was a bit dusty; Nate coughed at the
dust in the air.

“No...
No, damn why do they have to make them so frigging long?” Sydney snarled to no
one in particular as he tried to get a clean shot. He bumped into Nate and
stopped.

“Get
the...” He turned. “Oh it's you,” he said accusingly as he shook his head.

“Nice
to see you too Sydney,” Nate said dryly. “Is that a
basilisk
?” he asked,
pointing to the tapestry.

“Fighting
a knight, yeah, a tale of past glory and monsters,” Sydney said. Nate examined
the portrait. Unfortunately the
basilisk
was mid way up the tapestry,
difficult to get a good look at unless you were across the room.

“I
think the woman chained to the stake is a witch. Or bait,” Sydney said.

“Why
would they... oh never mind,” Nate shrugged it off. He blinked as the flash
went off.

“Damn
it, still not right.”

“So?
Composite the image from a lot of smaller ones,” Nate suggested.

“Ah.
Yeah, I heard a guy was doing that with redwood trees. I'll have to give it a
shot. It should give me the detail I want too.”

“Exactly.
Make sure you CC me a copy when you’re done, I want to get a better look at
this beasty,” he said. He reached up and touched the
basilisk
, then
pointed to the animal the knight was riding “and that one too.”

“Why?
You've already got live images remember?”

“Yes,
but I'm curious about this animal the knight is riding. I haven't seen it in
the stables. Is it to scale?”

“Oh?
Whatever,” Sydney waved it off. “They call them Titans. They've got a few in
the stables I think, but not here in the keep. Yeah, yeah. Sure thing,” He
shrugged.

Nate
snorted. “Don't forget,” he said sitting at the table. A servant put a bowl of
porridge in front of him. He smiled politely then picked up a wooden spoon.

“Gee
aren't we domesticated,” Sydney said. He looked up just in time for the flash
to blind him.

Nate
scowled. He hated being on the receiving end of a camera. Being flash blinded
also ticked him off. “Damn it Sydney...”

“I'm
going,” Sydney sighed. “No one likes a photographer.”

“You
mean paparazzi,” Nate growled as Sydney made his retreat. He turned and then
went to work on the porridge.

<==={}------------>

Zara
came out with an elderly woman on her arm. Carefully she guided her to a bench
in the courtyard. The woman sat down with a sigh then patted the princess's
arm.

“Who's
that?” Ryans asked, nodding his chin to the woman. Answorth nodded. “That's an
auntie, a retainer of the house. Unlike some that are heartless we don't sack
our old and infirm. Auntie Matilda there is also important because she knows
how to make the dyes for clothes and perfumes. She has yet to find a
successor,” the lad said shaking his head.

“Oh?”
Ryans asked.

“Yes,
it's quite hard to keep the... I believe you call them formulas?” he asked.
Ryans nodded. “Yes, formulas a secret. There are many and some of the
ingredients have their own formulas to make. Finding someone to do all that and
put up with the noxious reeking smells is hard.”

Ryans
nodded. “I'll bet.”

“She
has recently been talking to Miss Wanda though. I hope she can help her. Auntie
Matilda is having a hard enough time going up and down the stairs,” Answorth
frowned in concern. “We lost two last winter when they slipped and fell and
broke bones. It sucks getting old,” he said. He scowled and then glanced
towards Ryans. “Pardon my lord.”

“No
offense taken, you're right lad, it does suck. But it's all a part of the path
of life we've got to learn to accept,” Ryans said shrugging. “Maybe Doc can
help. I know she doesn't have much geriatric experience, but what she does know
could be applied.”

“Could
she?” Answorth asked surprised and hopeful.

“Maybe,”
Ryans said and then nodded. “Check with her. Ask her if she has any simple
ideas, and ask her for me if she could do a health and welfare check on the
retainers for me.”

Answorth
nodded smiling and scampered off.

“That'll
keep the little twerp busy and out of my hair,” Ryans said turning. “Now what
was I going to do again?” he asked himself. He snapped his fingers. Oh yes,
check in on the soldiers, he thought.

<==={}------------>

Ryans
chuckled softly as he watched the marines running around the field. They were
playing a scratch game of American football with a group of soldiers and doing
a remarkable job of banging each other up.

He
winced when Scooter slammed an opposing lineman to the ground. “Damn, that's
gotta hurt,” he said and sighed.

“Yeah,
but I've seen some of their games, that
branack
game...” Ginger
chuckled. He looked over to her. She had her hair up in a ponytail and was
sipping from a water bottle. She was drenched, and had an icepack on her knee.

“Get
hurt?” he asked. She grimaced as she pulled the ice pack away.

“Sprain
I think. Not bad, but we can't push it too hard, none of us can afford to be
laid up right now.”

“Afraid
of being in Doc's not so tender mercies?” he teased. She chuckled looking down.

“Something
like that,” she admitted. Sue had warned all of them that if they sent her any
more injured she'd do some particularly nasty and unmentionable things to them
when they recovered out of retaliation.

“What
is this all about?” the general asked coming up behind him with his aide.
Ginger grimaced and then rolled her eyes just out of their line of sight.

“Scratch
game of American football general. What’s it looking like?” Ginger replied
taking another sip of water. She got up gingerly and tossed the pack towards
the cooler. “I'm going to hit the shower before the neanderthals beat me to it.
Let me know who wins,” she said. She waved then hobbled off.

“Game?”
the aide asked, disgusted with the very idea. “Children play games,” he said
with a disdainful sniff.

“Of
a sorts, it's also a bit of a training exercise. American football uses
military tactical theory for planning. There is an offense and a defense,”
Ryans pointed to each side. “The objective is to get the ball across your goal
line... and stop the enemy from doing that to you.” He shrugged as the two
groups came together.

“Seems...
childish,” the aide said then watched as a runner feinted back and forth then
dodged two soldiers trying to tackle him as he sprinted for the goal line.

“What
you just saw there was a variation of a flanking maneuver. The other team tried
to prevent it but failed,” Ryans explained shading his eyes against the waning
light.