Fort South
Chapter 6: Shooting Fish in a Barrel

Copyright© 2008 by Gina Marie Wylie

The army, of course, had a procedure for everything, even something for what happened to Emily Foraket. Captain Taylor ordered men and things started to happen. Claire went to the door of the citadel and stepped outside, feeling the warmth of the sunshine on her face. Could she give that up? Willingly? No! Angry with herself, she shook her head.

A sergeant came running up to the duty officer, one of the new captains. After a few minutes, the captain saluted the sergeant, who ran off towards the walls.

Captain Taylor appeared at her side, stopping next to her. "Miss Story, you must return inside. The Harn have started sniping from long bowshot. We've had one man wounded; there are dozens of arrows inside the Fort."

"I need to talk to Colonel Randall."

He shook his head. "Miss Story, we are under fire. It's not possible."

Claire shaded her eyes, seeing Colonel Randall on the wall, to one side of the front gate. She ignored Captain Taylor and started walking towards the colonel. To her surprise, Richard Taylor did not follow or try to obstruct her.

A junior officer met her at the bottom of the steps. "Colonel's orders, Miss Story. Dependents can't go up."

She shook her head. "He said I could go up with the permission of the officer of the guard. I have a report for Colonel Randall. By your leave, sir."

"Miss, I can't. I'm sorry."

"Lieutenant, if Colonel Randall put you in charge of something and told you to report to him if something wasn't right, what would you say to an officer who barred your path?"

"I'd explain my duty, Miss Story. I'm sorry, but I have my orders, Miss Story."

"And I have mine as well. One of us is going to fail in our duty, Lieutenant. It won't be me." She brushed passed him before he realized she was moving. Given a second's head start, she stayed ahead of him all the way up, until she stood in front of the Colonel.

"Colonel Randall."

"Miss Story, this isn't entirely wise." He grimaced, waving at the area in front of the walls. "I'm walking the walls this morning trolling for snipers. Trying to get them to shoot at me. Standing close to me isn't safe."

"Emily Foraket killed herself last night."

He brushed his hand across his eyes, and then met hers. "I regret that more than you can imagine, Miss Story." He breathed deeply. "Nonetheless, this is no place for you."

He'd just started speaking the last sentence when Claire saw the arrow slashing towards them. She reached out and pushed him back, using the reaction to move herself backwards. The arrow split the four feet between them nearly perfectly.

"As you can see, this is very dangerous," he said thinly.

Claire gestured over the wall. "You could always shoot back."

Randall looked out over the wall, and then glanced at one of the sergeants standing close by, who shook his head. "Miss Story, you distracted the men. They were looking at you, not for snipers."

She waved at the spot the arrow had come from. "Right there! You can't see him?"

The soldiers looked in the direction she was pointing, but no one did anything. "Miss Story, please, return below," the colonel commanded.

Claire turned and tugged on the bow of one of the archers standing a few feet away. "Give it to me!" she commanded when he resisted giving it up.

Captain Taylor appeared and nodded at the man. "Kalki, give Miss Story your bow and an arrow."

The man acceded, but with poor grace.

She started to draw and the young archer corporal volunteered, "These are re-curved bows m'lady. Not what you are used to!"

She glared at him and he shut his mouth. She quickly judged the distance and angles. It was much further than she'd ever loosed an arrow at; she mentally crossed her fingers and let go.

The arrow arched up and slammed to ground. Drat, she thought. Missed! Except, while she'd missed, it was within a foot of the man lying in the sand. He flinched. Half a dozen archers had followed the flight of her arrow; five of the six arrows that flew next pinned the man to the ground.

There was a moment of silence and Claire looked at Captain Taylor. "And the others?" She waved, angry when no one moved.

"The others?" Captain Taylor replied, looking at Claire intently.

"The others. There," she pointed, "and there, and there and there." She pointed out nearly a dozen in a few more seconds.

Someone snorted and the captain shut it off with a glare. "Kalki, if you would. Arrow hold for Miss Story. Sergeant Chak! Sergeant Hoi! Sections ready to loose!"

Men moved, and Captain Taylor presented Claire with the next arrow. "If you would, Miss. Please mark the next."

She took the arrow and aimed again. This time she hit her target in the shoulder, but it didn't matter. Six arrows took the man two seconds later. She fired again, and again she missed. Four of the six arrows that flew then didn't. Two minutes later one man stood up below them and tried to run. He got less than a half dozen steps before pitching forward, pin-cushioned by a dozen wall guards who had yet to see anything.

"How is it that you see them and we don't?" one of the Corean sergeants asked, his voice deadly flat.

"How is it," Claire replied bitterly, "I see them and you don't?" She gestured to one of the men, lying dead on the field. "Look to the right of that man. You can see the air shimmer over the sand. To the left, the air shimmers. But not..."

Captain Taylor interrupted. "Ah, yes! How very subtle! Seeing what isn't there!" He looked around, laughing. "The lady must have Corean blood, eh men? We all know about Corean eagle eyes!"

The sergeant had been staring outwards, and now turned to Claire and grinned. "S'truth! Even I can see what isn't there when I open my eyes!" He laughed and so did several others. "Kalki! On me!" He walked briskly along the rampart, trailed by a dozen archers.

"Come," Colonel Randall said, gesturing toward Claire, "Let us watch Corean archers in action." She followed along.

At the next bend, the sergeant had already set up. Even as they neared him, the sergeant loosed, and there was an appreciative grunt from the men. A moment later, another shaft. The second target was merely wounded, tried to run, and half a dozen arrows took him. They slowly walked along, picking off one Harn after another.

"Is that all of them, Miss?" The sergeant asked at the end of the next length of wall.

Claire could only nod, unsure if she could speak. She! She had done this! Two dozen men lay dotted over the area in her view, pin-cushioned with arrows. She had killed them! If she had said nothing, they would be alive now! These men had wives, families, children! Even if they were enemies!

Colonel Randall saw the expression on her face and his voice was softer than a viper's whispering movement across the sand. "And if they had lived, some of us would have died. Perhaps all of us. They came here, after us. We did not seek them out; remember that when you go to assign blame for the deaths of men, wasted uselessly."

The sergeant hied his men around the next corner and continued with their grim work. An hour later it was done.

 
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