Chapter 6

It was nearly eleven AM the next morning when Jorgenson came back into the basement. They'd had to tie their horses in the woods and would need to fetch them back to the pen after dark. Apparently they had no trouble stealing into the larger commander's quarters in Katahalana.

He told me it was easy killing all the officers, finding and looting the tax treasury, making off with the money and every living soul in the building, including the officer's families, their maids, servants, and even the cook.

"Naturally sir, I saved the commander's beautiful young wife for you. Alas, she had no children and only one maid," he said, almost regretfully.

Thank you Jesus, for small miracles is what I thought. I was sure I wouldn't kick either of them out of bed, but dammit, my bed was full already. I wondered if I could explain an empire sized bed to the carpenter and more importantly, to the local mattress maker.

Chungi and I were both in the tower the next morning when a rider came up from the direction of Katahalana and he had clearly ridden his mount nearly to death. Its sides were heaving for breath as it stood spraddle legged after the rider dismounted, and it was covered with sweat.

Some officious looking asshole started dressing him down as he rushed toward King Dasga's large ornate pavilion. I could see men gathered around him and then some agitated milling about. Shortly, an officer left heading toward a group of picketed horses, and apparently yelling orders as he went.

Soon enough fifty men were saddling their mounts and when they finished they were off. They left at a lope but at least not in a dead run. The messenger's horse was down now, obviously foundered, and in a few minutes two men went to it, slit its throat and began skinning it out and then butchering it. They didn't even bother to remove the saddle; they merely cut the girth when it got in the way.

Well, it seemed King Dasga now knew he needed a new command team at Katahalana.

After dark that night my squad slipped out through the tunnel again, re-saddled the horses they'd left tied in the woods and rode them back to the pen. They caught fresh mounts and six more besides, putting the packsaddles we'd lowered onto the six spare horses.

They had to backtrack last night's path and retrieve the twenty-two money chest they'd hidden in the woods. With all the women and children they had in tow, they hadn't been able to carry the chest more than five miles before they'd had to hide them so they could come back for them later. At least they made it back at a decent hour this time.

For the next two days Chungi and I watched as King Dasga's men worked busily cutting and skidding timber and then others worked on the siege tower he had them making. No doubt he was a little put out with me, but I had news for him.

Progress had been steady on the siege tower and as Chungi and I watched the third day of work I decided it was time to liven things up.

The crews set their mortars back up, making their best guess at aiming. I was going to let them try for the nearly finished tower; one shot at a time, in order, until one of them got it. I assumed it would be tricky since the tower was no more than three hundred and fifty yards from Quancho's gate.

The first crew spoiled all the fun by hitting it dead center with their initial round. I guess I can't say they spoiled all the fun though. There was quite a lot of excitement for the next hour while King Dasga threw a fit, trying to send other men out to help the wounded and collect the dead. There was also some minor comedy while a horseman tried to catch the draft horse which had just been released from his latest burden of two large logs only seconds before the mortar round's impact and explosion.

The next bit of fun, for us, was when the burial party for the twelve dead tower builders started a grave in the soft ground of one of our previous mass graves. It didn't take them long at all to find what we'd left for them. Of course it drew attention when they left screaming about their discovery.

Possibly half an hour later, different men had been drafted to continue the digging. No doubt it was more of an investigation by now. I'm sure said investigation yielded more evidence than they were expecting. Suddenly it seemed to dawn on someone that there just might be more bodies in the other odd patches of soft ground, some of which were currently covered by tents and campfires.

Lo and behold, more digging yielded even more evidence. After checking and confirming in one more place, I assume they decided all those odd patches of soft ground were mass graves, for suddenly there was a determined scramble to vacate the areas. Of course this led to mass confusion, especially after someone noticed King Dasga's Royal Pavilion had been erected over top of one. The race was on.

I was sorely tempted to have the mortar crews drop a few more shots into the melee but I stifled myself. They had their horses picketed in too much of a prime position for stampeding right through camp with a round or two and if we let them know we could reach from here, they'd no doubt move the whole thing further away. They might have anyway if they'd thought more closely about what we'd done to the tower they'd been building. The great grave discovery had taken it completely off their minds though. Better give them a night to sleep on it.

Bright and early the next morning they started on a new tower, taking only the precaution of moving back another hundred yards. I couldn't follow their thinking on this. They had no idea what weapon we'd used to do the damage. Did they really think another hundred yards would make all the difference? We'd show them the error of their way tomorrow night.

I finally decided they just didn't know what they were doing. Maybe it wasn't King Dasga's fault, or maybe he was interfering with his general's plans, or maybe nobody knew much about war here and now. It was finally apparent they didn't move the tower building site further back because of the extra difficulty in moving it after it was done. They couldn't fathom it would never be finished.

It was easy for me to say they were stupid - I had the benefit of centuries of military history. Even more important, I had weapons centuries more advanced. Still, their ridiculous attempts were beginning to bother me. I made myself watch them for most of the day - perhaps we could make them decide to quit bothering us tonight.

By ten PM the mortar crews were practically salivating over their upcoming fun. If you fire a mortar, what could be better than thousands of men on open ground and no prospect of counter battery fire?

It went off without a hitch. First they put a round each on the other side of the picketed horses, and then they switched to the back of the encampment and walked their fire toward the front, the old standby they called it. Four shots into the mission and King Dasga's army was routed, panicked, and dying.

The King's Pavilion went down under frightened horses almost right away. Even with a full moon and the night vision equipment I was using, I couldn't tell whether anyone escaped it or not, but I could tell there was no group of elite bodyguards forming up around their leader. It was every idiot for himself.

I made them stop after only thirty rounds each. There was no point in killing any more of them tonight and with any luck, they'd give it up as a bad job, and just go home. I hoped they'd take the time to bury their dead before they left.

No such luck, they were still chasing after horses the next morning, and there was a lot of anguished milling around, but apparently, King Dasga was pissed.

With the sixty power spotting scope and in broad daylight, he was easy to spot, right there on the man portable chaise lounge arrangement, being toted by six men, brave and true, or at least scared shitless.

In fact, unless I missed my guess, he was coming to inspect the next incarnation of his siege engine. I was out of the tower and poking around in the basement for my Barrett in minutes. I could only hope it was still reasonably close to on.

I had to take five to catch my breath after I was back up in the tower. Climbing like that with a Barrett and fifteen pounds worth of sandbags does not leave your heart rate in shape for taking critical shots.