Chapter 4

Gwyn's Narrative:

New characters appearing in the story:

General John Sullivan

Brigadier General, Commander of American forces at the Battle of Johns Creek, 5'-9" tall, 185 pounds, 60 years old, gray hair, going bald, blue eyes

I was initially surprised when Mark decided to send all of the guys to deal with the problems on the flanks of the American position, and then just told us women to deal with the main attack. What could he be thinking, I wondered? Maybe he considered those in the woods to be more of a threat, but I couldn't see how that could be. He and the other men disappeared before I could ask him. Being the one left in charge of the women, I needed a plan in a hurry.

"Glanda, you and I will take the first group of men to the right of center. S & S (Sererena and Saraid), you take the first group to the left of center. A & A (Amelia and Anann) take the group to the right of us, and M & M II (Megan and Maureen) you take the group to the left of S & S.

"C & C and D & D figure out where to set up a first aid station. Jillian, go with them, and set up a defensive shell for them to work in.

"The rest of us will set up defensive shells around the group that we are assigned to. Tint them a nice light pink, so we all know that everyone is set up," I told the rest of the women.

"Suppose some of those men give us a bunch of guff about setting up the defensive shells?" Saraid asked.

"Surely you have learned how to deal with mere men by now, Cousin," I told her. "These are only men, not Sorcerers. Think of them as obnoxious frat guys. Use a freeze spell on them if you need to," I added. We each joined hands with our twin, and then did a line-of-sight transfer to appear just in front of our respective group of men.

When Glanda and I appeared just in front of the group of men that we would be protecting, there was a tall man with a long saber there. Our sudden appearance startled him.

"What are you women doing here? How did you get here?" he demanded in an upset voice.

"We've come to help you, Captain," Glanda told him, sweetly.

"Young lady, I am a Lieutenant Colonel, and I am in charge of this regiment. Now answer my question!" he demanded loudly.

"Chill out, Colonel honey. We are here to protect you," I told him. "Now let us do our thing, and we will answer all of your questions in a minute." Glanda and I quickly sat on the ground, and cast a defensive shell that would enclose the entire group of men that we were with. I was a little worried that such a large defensive shell would reach most of the way to the second group of men behind us, and also far out in front of us.

You can imagine my shock when what appeared was definitely NOT a spherical defensive shell, but what I realized was a Prolate Spheroid lying on its side, or long axis. It definitely resembled a watermelon. A pink Watermelon. Glanda looked over at me in surprise, also.

"What the fuck, Sis?" she asked. I blinked several times before answering, as the cause had just come to me.

"Can you say 'Book of Dreams'?" I asked, on realizing where it had come from.

"Yeah, I guess so!" Glanda acknowledged in old Gaelic, which we had been speaking. The Colonel obviously didn't understand it, but had his panties all in a wad seeing us just sitting there on the ground. That is until we had tinted the defensive shell a pretty light pink.

"What in the world have you done?" he demanded angrily, on seeing it.

"We are saving your bacon, Colonel honey," I told him. I thought he would blow a gasket on hearing this, but that was when the British fired another shot out of their cannon. I just had time to glance out of our shell to check if the others were set up yet when the cannon ball hit our shell with a loud thud, and bounced up into the air very nicely.

It had hit the defensive shell where it was curving up to go over our heads and then back to the ground behind us. After hitting the shell, the cannon ball bounced up into the air and headed back in the direction that it had come from. We, and all of the men watched, as it tore into the line of British soldiers who were getting ready to attack us. It took several of them out, and caused quite a bit of panic.

"How did you do that?" a shocked Colonel asked us.

"Just a little Magic, Colonel," Glanda told him.

"But that was a round shot from a six pounder!" he exclaimed.

"If you say so, Colonel," I told him. "We don't really know much about your toys. We do Magic."

"Magic does not exist!" he told us, very firmly.

"It may not have existed here before this, but it does now, Colonel," I told him. Glanda and I had gotten to our feet some time ago, and were standing right in front of him now.

"If you do not leave here immediately, I will have you removed. The British are about to launch their attack. You will be killed," he told us in a very upset voice.

"It won't do the British any good to attack you," Glanda told him. "They don't have anything that will penetrate our defensive shell."

"That reminds me, Colonel. Tell your men NOT to fire their weapons until we tell them to. Their bullets will only bounce off the interior surface of the shell and kill them and their friends."

"If we do that, the British will mow us down!" he protested in a panic.

"You saw what happened to that cannon ball, right?" I asked. "The same thing will happen to their rifle bullets."

"They do not have rifles! They use muskets!" he objected, vehemently.

"Whatever!" I told him, before adding, "We'll tell you when to fire. We'll lower the defensive shell long enough for your people to fire their guns, and then we'll immediately reestablish it."

"But... !!" he objected nervously.

"No buts, Sweetie. When the pink disappears, have all of your men fire their guns. We'll take care of recreating the shell," I told him. The Colonel was very upset by now, but hadn't done anything stupid -- yet.

We all watched as the British lines moved forward. They crossed the stream in the valley with some difficulty, and had to stop for a time to straighten out their lines. They then continued toward us. They had drummers to keep them in step, and looked real pretty in their fancy uniforms.

They finally stopped about fifty yards, or so in front of us. Their officers were shouting orders and getting them ready to fire at us. I noticed that there was now firing coming from the forest on either side of the valley, and a number of British officers were knocked off of their horses, or feet, and didn't get up. Others continued to shout orders to their men who were in motion now, and bring their rifles (muskets?) up to fire. The order to fire was heard, and several sections of their lines fired their weapons, but not all of them as I had expected.

I was planning to drop the defensive shell once they had all fired their rifles (muskets?), but that wasn't happening. This would make it harder to determine when to allow our men to fire their weapons. When the bullets (balls?) from their rifles (muskets?) hit the defensive shell, they only made a small sound, flattened out against it, and fell to the ground, as they were only made of soft lead, and not iron like the cannon ball.

The men behind us seemed shocked at this, that none of the bullets (balls?) had penetrated through the shell. The Colonel, and some of his officers and sergeants, had to yell at the men to get their attention back on the British. Finally, all of the groups of men in front of our shell had fired and were reloading.

"Get your men ready to fire," I had told the Colonel previously, and he started issuing orders. His men had quickly brought their rifles up, and were ready to fire. As the last group in front of us was firing, I turned to the Colonel.

"Are you ready?" I asked him, as he was standing beside Glanda and me now.

"Yes!" he quickly shouted over the noise of firing guns. Glanda and I immediately dropped the defensive shell after their bullets impacted it.

"Fire!" the Colonel ordered, and a horrendous noise erupted, as all two hundred and fifty, or so of his men fired their guns. Glanda and I quickly brought the defensive shell back up before the British could return the fire. When they did, their bullets only hit the restored defensive shell. Many of them were missing now, but other groups of men moved up to replace those missing.

On looking around, I noticed that our Sisters and Cousins were copying what we had done, as pink shells would flicker out of existence for short periods of time while their groups fired. Eventually, I also noticed that the group of men that had been behind us had moved up, and were now spread out in the gaps between our shells, and they were firing on the British also before moving back behind our shells to reload. A part of them were always ready to fire while others reloaded.

The British had continued to fire, but had lost a lot of men. They must have been desperate because one of their leaders gave the order to charge, and they all charged toward our units, yelling and screaming. We allowed them to get to within twenty-five yards of us before dropping the shell again, and our men all fired their guns with devastating effect. Glan and I had the shell back in place within seconds, but the wind hadn't had time to blow the smoke out of the area from all of the men firing, and it was now difficult to see, or breathe in the shells.

"We need to use the air change spell -- several times!" I told Glan, and fairly soon we could see and breathe easier. In the meantime, those of the British that were left had continued their charge. On reaching our defensive shells, their bayonets just bent against the surface of the shell before snapping, or they glanced off of it and upward, throwing the men to the ground. Some of them were running so hard that their bodies just continued on, as their guns slipped from numb hands when their bayonets broke, and they slammed into the shell. Most of them were knocked out, or dazed by the impact. Quite a few of them were trampled by those behind them when they slammed into the shells.

The group of men that that had been behind our shell came around the ends of it, and fired on the remaining British. We couldn't drop the shell now without running the risk of some of the British getting through it. Eventually, those of them remaining began to retreat, and we lowered the shell so the Colonel could have his men fire at the retreating British several times. They were ready to follow them then, but we brought the shell back up again.

"Remove that thing!" the Colonel demanded in an angry voice. "They are getting away."

"Are all of your men reloaded?" Glanda asked him, to a frown.

"You know that it's dangerous out there, right?" I asked him, to another frown.

"It is our duty to pursue the enemy!" he bellowed at us. The group of men that had been behind our shell was already in pursuit of the British, so we lowered the shell to allow the Colonel to lead his men out. They had to go out the ends, as the front was piled high with the dead bodies of the British. The men from the other shells were doing the same thing. We all re-established our shells behind them before I called for a conference. We all met behind the row of defensive shells.

"How did you get rid of all of that gunsmoke?" Maureen asked.

"We used the change of air spell a number of times," Glan told her.

"Yes, that is what we eventually did also," Megan told us

"What do we do now?" Saraid asked.

"We wait. I have no intention of chasing after those fools," I told her. "I do believe though that we should reestablish our defensive shells a short distance back from the carnage. Those bodies will begin to stink soon enough.

"We could use a preservation spell on them to keep them from stinking," Amelia suggested.

"Yes, let's do that, but we should still move the shells back away from the bodies," I told them.

"Our Brothers and Cousins will be here eventually, after they are finished chasing those in the forest," Sererena reminded us.