Industry & Intrigue (59 page)

“
James, is there any
report
from
the scouts?” he asked his aide.

“
No sir,
nothing.”

“
Hmm.” If the Galrians were
going to carry out a sneak attack they’d use more than dirigibles.
They’d be attacking with a mass of cavalry as well, followed up by
cannon fire.

“
Uh, sir,”
his aide continued. “By
nothing, I mean there are no reports at all. None of the scouts
reported back.”

A cold chill ran through Ian.
It was as bad as he imagined.
“They were due back over twenty minutes ago
weren’t they?”

“
Yes sir.”

“
Then you should have bloody
well have come and told that then, not now,” he snarled and James
recoiled at the outburst. “Fuck. James, find all the division
commanders and tell them to prepare for battle. We have a fight on
our hands.”

Before his aide could run off
there was a loud noise near the front of the camp. They both
looked
up to
see a cloud of smoke and dust rising up. Several tents were on
fire, a dirigible above the spot. They had started their bombing,
like Steven had predicted.

The crack of rifles could be
h
eard as his
soldiers fired back. It was pointless, only the longest range
rifles would be able to reach that high, and the odds of them
hitting were slim.

James ran off to relay his
orders
and
there were shouts from the other side of the camp. Ian could see
men readying their weapons and running. He pulled up the telescope
and looked.

In the distance he could see
it. A long line of a massive Galrian cavalry army was charging at
his camp. His men were going to be slaughtered.
He gritted his teeth in
frustration and watched as they sped closer and closer towards the
camp. He needed to oversee this personally.

When he reached the south side of the
camp, he found his officers had made a temporary command post. They
all saluted when he arrived.

“
Report.” His commanding
voice was loud and strong.

One of his officers said, “Sir, there
appears to be several regiments of Galrian cavalry approaching our
position. Our units are getting organized, but it’s taking
time.”

No
fucking shit
thought Ian. “These Galrian fuckers
have caught us with our pants down and they mean to give us good
buggering. But I don’t intend for them to enjoy it. Get as many of
the second and third division as you can, to assemble on this side
of the camp.” All of the dirigibles were above the camp and they
were dropping bombs at an alarming rate.

“
Colonel
Wilkins
,” he
said, addressing the officer.

“
Yes sir
,” said the large man to his left. He
had a big, black beard.

“
See to the command of the
cannons. I know most of them are lined up for target practice, but
there are a few situated on the perimeter. Get the crews to move
their arses and drag them over here as fast as they can.” The
officer nodded and went off to do his job.

Ian watched as the cavalry
came
closer,
it had to be at least two entire divisions. They would rip through
his men and the camp if their charge wasn’t broken. Officers were
yelling out orders to soldiers everywhere. They were out of
uniform, but he didn’t give a damn about that, so long as they
could shoot.

There were enough men from the
second and third division assembled now that they
were forming a
semblance of a solid line. His infantry were armed with the
Huntington Repeater .909, one of the best rifles in the world. It
could fire ten rounds in the space of twelve seconds, before
needing to reload.

With enough
men, the damage that could be
done from a unified firing line was devastating. Even enough to
occasionally break cavalry charges if they had time, something
which they didn’t have here.

He looked back and upwards. The
dirigibles had dropped most of their bombs and were veering away
from the camp. They had hit s
everal of the arms caches and started an inferno
in the middle of the camp that was proving difficult to put
out.

But aside from
a direct hit on a
barracks tent they had not caused casualties. He suspected that
wasn’t the goal anyway. The dirigibles were a distraction while the
Galrian ground army moved towards them. The bombings also served to
draw men away from the defense of the camp.

There was a tremendous sound
and he
turned back. His infantry were firing. It was solid line of
fire and he saw horsemen at the front of the Galrian charge go
down. But it wasn’t enough. The men were firing everything they had
and disrupted the cavalry charge, but it only faltered. The horses
were still incoming and the rifle fire began to lessen as the men
had to stop and reload.

“
General
Munro
,”
asked another of his officers. “What about the new gun?”

He had forgotten that they had
one of the new mechanized Fleming guns with them. It was an
impressive gun, but they only had one and he doubted it would have
made a difference here
. It was all the way at the practice sector with
the rest of the cannons.

“
It won’t help
us
,” he
replied. He realized he couldn’t allow the Galrians to get their
hands on it. It was brand-new design and letting an enemy force
obtain a prototype weapon like that would be a huge
blow.

“
Take some men and destroy
it
,” he
bluntly stated.

“
How?” asked the
officer.

“
I don’t care
how
!” he
yelled. “Use dynamite if you have to. Just get it destroyed. We
can’t allow the Galrians to get their hands on it.”

Ignoring the
man
, he
refocused his attention on the battle. To his right a cannon
boomed, then three more. Colonel Wilkins had moved fast. He watched
in satisfaction as each explosion tore apart dirt, horses and
men.

His soldiers
had been able to
decimate the frontlines, but it only accounted for roughly a
quarter of the total cavalry charge. The Galrians would have the
advantage in less than a minute. Already they were beginning to
fire their own guns and hit back at his men. The smell of gunpowder
was stifling and the pounding of the oncoming horses increased in
volume.

He pulled out his personal revolver and
took aim. He refused to be cut down like an animal. He fired off
one shot, hitting an officer. The man slipped off his horse, the
reins dragging the animal down and they collapsed into a bloody
pile. He kept firing until his gun was empty. The pounding of horse
hooves thundered closer and closer. He felt a bullet whizz past his
ear and he flinched.

The Galrian charge hit his
infantry like a hammer, breaking the line and flowing into the
camp.
Ian
watched as they shot, cut and trampled his soldiers to pieces. And
still they came, what seemed like an endless number of
cavalry.

One pounded towards him and he
stood his ground. T
he green-uniformed horseman fired a revolver and the bullet
took Ian in the shoulder. He maintained his stance. The horseman
drew a sword as he charged and pulled it back for a vicious slash
aimed directly at Ian. The fire in the camp reflected off the sword
as it cut through his neck.

Chapter 58

The beautiful face and
soft
blonde
hair of Queen Clara Vicinus chased Lawrence in his dreams. He could
see himself kissing her, other times it was as if he was a
voyeuristic observer outside of his own body, as she kissed him.
Other times he would be chasing her, then she would be running away
from him. If he caught up to her, he would rip off her clothes and
kiss her all over, until she was moaning with pleasure.

He was right in the middle of a
dream exactly like that when he was roused
awake by his head guard. He was not
happy at being pulled out of it.

“
I
’ve had a long day, Captain McLaren. The
least you could do is let your emperor have a good night’s rest,”
he said.

“
I’m sorry, Your Imperial
Majesty, but
there’s something going on,” replied Flint. “I needed to
wake you. We must be ready to move at a moment’s
notice.”

Lawrence
roused himself as the captain’s
words processed through his mind, penetrating the fog of sleep. He
had never known Flint to ever speak as melodramatically as that, it
must be serious. He rubbed his eyes and pulled off his bed covers.
“What is it exactly captain?” he asked.

“
There’s something going
on in the Galrian camp.”

“
Something going on?” Lawrence
felt his annoyance return. “There’s always something going on
there. Soldiers aren’
t accustomed to sitting still and waiting for
negotiations, they drink and gamble to pass the time. Would you
care to be more specific?” As he looked at the man, he suddenly
realized that the captain was wearing his armored vest. He was
expecting trouble.

“
I’m sorry, Your Imperial
Majesty. I would explain it to you but I don’t have all the facts
myself. I’ll fill you in on what I do know while you dress. Suffice
it to say this isn’t about soldiers having too much to drink and
getting over-excited.”

Lawrence moved over
t
o his
closet and pulled out his clothes while Flint spoke, “As the
captain of Your Imperial Majesty’s guard, I’ve made it my duty to
know everything that is going in the town. Particularly with
regards to the Galrian delegation.”

Lawrence pulled on his suit trousers
and lifted up a white shirt, with red markings.

“
I have had a man posing as a
Galrian in their camp every night that they have been here,” said
Flint.

Lawrence had been about to pull
on his shirt b
ut he froze when he heard this. “Captain, that was a
dangerous move to make. They are already suspicious of us. If your
man had been discovered, it could have derailed the
negotiations.”

Flint took this in stride and
replied in
the same serious tone of voice, “My one and only duty is to
protect you. I can best do that when I have as much information as
possible.”

Lawrence quickly pulled his shirt on.
“Let me guess. Your man reported to you every night, but tonight he
has failed to appear at the correct time.”

“
No, Your Imperial Majesty. He
reported back to me only ten minutes ago.”

“
And what did he have to say for
himself?”
asked Lawrence.

“
Skalov is in the Galrian camp,
meeting with the officers. All of the men are awake and none of
them are drinking.”

Lawrence paused. That did sound
unusual. Every other n
ight there had been incidents involving drunk
soldiers, nothing more than minor fistfights.

“
That doesn’t prove anything,”
countered Lawrence. “Skalov is ready to sign our agreement
tomorrow. They’re preparing to leave as early as they can.” He
relaxed as he looked at himself in the mirror. Flint was being over
cautious.

“
There is something else, Your
Imperial
Majesty,” replied Flint. “They are moving their carriages
as we speak. They don’t have the engines on. They are pushing them
by hand, slowly and quietly, so they aren’t noticed.”

That was more troubling, but
still n
ot
evidence of anything. “They could be reorganizing the
camp.”

“
Nonetheless, Your
Imperia
l
Majesty, I would ask that you please put this on, until my men have
investigated.” Flint held an armored vest out.

He shrugged
and took the vest. “Fine, I’ll
play along. I’m glad the deal is done and Skalov is going to sign
tomorrow. Lack of sleep won’t be as much of an issue if I don’t
have to spend all day haggling. It’s no wonder he’s a rich man if
he does business the same way he handles diplomacy.”

Fifteen minutes later there was
a knock on the door. Flint opened it a
nd one of his guardsmen entered. He
was panting from exertion.

“
What is it sergeant?” asked
Flint. His voice had a sense of panic to it.

“
The watchmen at the gates and
towers are all de
ad,” replied the guard. “Their throats were slit, killed
before they could make a noise.”

Lawrence’s eyes widened, it was
as serious as Flint feared.
He felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his
stomach.

“
The Galrians, sergeant. Did you
see what they’re planning?” asked Flint.

Before the man
could answer there
was a deafening boom and the walls of the room rumbled. Flint
looked over at Lawrence. “That was cannon fire, Your Imperial
Majesty. We need to get you out of here.” More booms sounded along
with the lighter snaps of rifle fire.