Chapter 5

I set a record for getting dressed and told the guards on duty outside our door to let Amanda sleep, but toss the Princess into a solitary cell where she would be unable to cause any extra trouble, and then go report to their Sergeant or Lieutenant. Heck, they wanted to be there for the fight anyway. Battles are dangerous but that's where the grunts sometimes find a bit of loot worth grabbing and medals always look good on your record at promotion time, especially if your direct boss manages to snuff it and you can look good filling in his shoes.

I found the Captain up on top of the gatehouse overlooking the broken drawbridge. He wasn't thrilled about the situation but was very careful to not actually blame me for the mess they were now in. The drawbridge was down with no way to get it securely back up and the portcullis had received only token jury-rigged repairs. Best guess it could hold for about three minutes. His appraisal was frank, but not inaccurate. In short, when they attacked we could hold the gatehouse for maybe five minutes, tops. Once the battle got inside the courtyard of the keep things were going to go very badly for us very quickly. We'd be outnumbered ten to one at least and even if we could hold the courtyard a lot of bad guys were going to make it inside the castle and bad things would happen.

Good leaders never blame others for their own mistakes and only a damned fool shoots the messenger bearing bad news. It was my fuckup ... and now I would just have to fix it. Fortunately the horde of barbarians hadn't actually attacked yet or we would have been having this conversation in the middle of a battle in this courtyard.

I called over all of the guards in the castle close enough so that they could hear me. The words from Henry V came readily to mind, 'We few, we happy few... ', etc., but I thought that speech was really too depressing. Instead I gave them part of a speech that one of my DI's back in basic training had given me. He stolen it probably from someone else too, but that wasn't my problem either.

"Men, we are facing an epic struggle, not just of right and wrong, or good or evil, but the will to exist. The will to fight against all odds no matter how impossible, relying upon your instincts to survive to see yet one more day. It is the killer instinct which must be harnessed if you expect to survive in a combat situation, such as this one. Weapons are only a tool. It is a hard heart that kills. If your killer instincts are not clean and strong you will hesitate at the moment of truth. You will not kill, and instead your enemy will kill you instead. This would be bad and would really piss the good Fairy Lydia off. No cake for you! Do not fight to die, but fight to win and let someone else die. Hoo-raah!" I Shouted. The men weren't totally won over but I think the Captain knew what I was talking about and lifted his shoulders up a bit higher.

Now it was time to see what I could do to even the odds a little bit. Besides, I was just in the mood for a little long range sniping this morning.

The enemy appeared to be camped on the other side of the very long and more or less flat plain, at the edge of the tree line about a thousand yards away. A very long shot for most rifles, but that's what the M14 sniper rifle was for. I summoned it and turned the scope to full magnification to get a good recon of the enemy's forces. There were a lot of them.

First there seemed to be a couple of bands of ragged arse barbarians dressed in leathers and skins and lot of war paint. They would probably be very poorly led and would rely on their war chief's for orders. To further complicate things, there were several different bands gathered together that didn't seem to like each other very much. It was too far away of course to hear anything they were yelling about, but I could assume they were still arguing over who was to be the Big Chief in charge. Every minute they argued, our significantly smaller force gained time to fortify up and block the portcullis. I let them argue.

Next I looked over a small but well armed band of black knight cavalry. They were there for the plunder and would probably let everyone else take the casualties and pop in at the last moment to seize a lion's share of the plunder. Wankers, the whole bloody lot of them. They would be about as useful to the enemy as the French had been to us in the Big Sandbox. Once they started taking casualties they'd go back to plundering fat stupid merchants on some highway.

Then came the menagerie of critters ... and it was quite a zooful. Short little pipsqueak Goblins, big ugly Trolls, a large herd of Centaurs, and some ill-tempered Gryphons that were impatient for the battle to get started. No Giants, no Minotaurs, and no Unicorns, thank goodness. It did look like something large and rambunctious was lurking behind them in the trees but I couldn't tell what it was. That was a problem for later.

Once I'd figured out the enemy's order of battle, I directed the Captain to get some crossbowmen up on the walls and focus on repelling an aerial attack first. Those Gryphons were definitely chomping at the bit and would get here first. Assuming that they finally voted on a commander who would actually give the order to attack.

At last they seemed to agree on selecting one of the human tribal chiefs as their leader and he grabbed his sword and walked out in front of his troops to give a final pep talk before ordering the attack. I put a 7.62mm slug right into the center of the back of his skull and it exploded like an overripe cantaloupe. This was very disconcerting to them and all of the barbarians gathered up into a big tent once more to vote.

This gave me a very accurate nose count of their top leaders now and when they quickly agreed upon another candidate, I put a sniper bullet into the center of his chest as soon as he took two steps forward beyond their main lines. There was also a small dark squirrely looking sort of guy that looked like an assassin type of fellow so I put pair of rounds into him too, right between his eyes to put paid to that little shit before he disappeared on me. I didn't want him turning up at a critical moment trying to put an evil ensorcelled dagger into my back by surprise.

Proper planning will prevent piss-poor performance!

The next candidate for removal from the gene pool was an ugly looking warlock or shaman or some other practioner of the dark arts. He wore filthy robes and had ghastly stringy long hair that he probably oiled with rancid butter, yak smegma, or something like that, and I didn't like it at all when he began to chant and wave about his magic staff with a human skull mounted at its tip. I gave him two rounds into the center of his chest, and just to show off I then fired a third round while his staff was still in the air falling to the ground that hit the skull dead on and shattered it. He had a few apprentices that milled about for a bit afterwards but quickly decided they'd rather seek their fortunes off in the world all alone, and they disappeared off into the forest.

This was more than enough for the group of about twenty Gryphons. They decided to attack all by themselves and leapt into the air in-mass and heading for the Castle. The sniper rifle was a too slow and awkward for this sort of work, but this was just right for the Beowulf. The Grendel rounds also might have worked just fine, especially in three round bursts, but those suckers were pretty big, being winged lions. The larger slower .50 caliber Beowulf slugs would definitely get their attention better anyway.

I downed about half of the flock (or are twenty Gryphons called a pride, like lions?) and the guard crossbowmen took down another three and wounded several others that quickly retreated. Most of the rest decided it was not a good day to fly the unfriendly skies of the Magic Kingdom and flew off. Just one lone, very big, very stupid and annoyed Gryphon remained and he was driving straight for me.

This looked like their leader. I probably could have popped off another Beowulf round into him, but I decided at the last moment I really didn't like the cut of his gibe, or the length of his claws. I switched over fast to the Remington and ended up blowing off the fuckers head entirely with a point blank shot while he was trying to take my head off with his beak.

I wouldn't be able to mount this trophy head, but I muttered something to the butler, who always seemed to be just within earshot somehow, to have the dumb beast turned into a lion skin rug for me at his earliest convenience. My crappy apartment didn't have a fireplace, but when I get a place with one I'm going to want that rug right in front of it!

The danger over, we took a quick inspection of our troops. No casualties and only one slight scratch from a passing claw. Morale was high, they had beat off the first attack easily and the men had supreme faith in me, and my Fairy weapons. I didn't want to confess that there were lots of mortal men with this sort of stuff back on my world, or they all would have volunteered to become Marines. There are enough crazy jarheads in the world as it is.

Most of the barbarians seemed to take the wipeout of their Gryphon allies in pretty good stride. I guessed that their absence wouldn't cause anyone any serious regrets. One group on my far left was beginning to look extremely antsy and shuffled about as if they all collectively need to take a piss, preferably somewhere else. I was guessing that they weren't particularly thrilled to be here this fine morning and were just looking for an excuse to skedaddle off back towards home. The other two bands morale still appeared to be rock solid. Well the morning was still young.

One group of my foes that did seem to have some a bit of vim and vigor for some exercise were the Trolls. They were trying to get their goblin lackeys whipped into some sort of formation but it seemed to be a lot like herding sheep. I don't think that their leader had actually meant for them to get moving and attack the castle yet, but their communications were definitely crossed up. One group got overly ambitious and started to charge leaving their companions still mostly milling about behind them. One by one other Troll leaders would get the idea to follow them and what could have been a nasty and very solid mass of trouble became instead lots of isolated little pockets strung out all over the battlefield.

I turned to suggest to the Captain that his crossbowmen switch to bows and arrows but he'd already given the command. With these little bunches of enemy we were much better off with the much higher rate of fire of bows. Our missile fire would be less accurate, but we'd get at least twice as many shots off.

Goblins, being tiny little shits about three feet high or so, had short legs and weren't used to running much out in the open and couldn't run in a straight line or stay in any sort of formation if their lives depended upon it. They probably wouldn't have been running at all except for the taller Trolls with whips chasing them and keeping them motivated. I decided to do some motivating of my own.

Targeting only the Troll overseers, I started off with the sniper rifle picking them off one by one. Trolls are tough bastards though, a bit larger than a man and apparently possessing few critical internal organs. Even a chest shot wouldn't necessarily bring them down, or stop them from getting up if knocked down. It didn't take me long to realize that only a head shot was a guaranteed kill, but it was spooky the way I never seemed to miss. Wherever I got my crosshairs, that's where the bullet would go. I was a good shot in the Corps and had the marksman badge to prove it, but I had never been this good. I guess I should thank the Good Fairy for the accuracy Fairy Dust.

Once the goblins realized that their overseers were dead or incapacitated, they quickly decided that storming the castle wasn't really what they wanted to do this morning after all. Especially after they started to come into arrow range. They took off running to either the left or the right and stayed running until they hit the safety of the trees far away from either the remaining Trolls or us. Some of the Trolls made it back limping to the safety of their camp and I left them alone. I assumed that they would have had enough fun for today too.

This next defeat for the forces of evil drove all of the barbarian leaders back into the tent for another conference. The previously unhappy group was now extremely pissed off and they looked like they were packing up to head home. I almost wished I could hear what they were saying but I'm pretty sure it was a barbarian equivalent of "Fuck this shit — screw you guys, we're going home". The other two tribes weren't happy about and they were all about to maybe come to blows with each other when something surprising happened. The group of Centaurs, about fifty in number, all suddenly galloped forward towards the castle, and suddenly unfurled a white flag on a spear.

I held my fire but suspected a ruse, and motioned for the Captain to come with me down to the drawbridge. It was going to take a few minutes to move all of the temporary reinforcement we'd nailed to or stacked up against the damaged portcullis, but the Centaurs stopped their gallop about half way across the field and slowed to a walk and waited for us just outside of the drawbridge. I switched over to Grendel mode and popped the selector switch over to rock'n'roll just in case as I walked across the drawbridge to parley with them. If things went bad it was going to suddenly be a very target rich environment.

"Greetings, Sir Hero. Are you now Master of this castle or are you speaking for the King and Queen?" The eldest white-haired and bearded Centaur asked me. They were armed with swords and had bows hung around their backs. Many also had spears, but everything was either sheathed or held at rest. Combat did not appear to imminent. I could also see right behind the leader the young Centaur lass that I had spoken with yesterday. Her face was serious but when we made eye contact she gave me a bit of a smile.

"Both, actually for the moment. Today I speak for the Castle, the Good Fairy Lydia and for the entirety of the Magic Kingdom. There is hope and the expectation that the rightful King and Queen will shortly be resuming their thrones." This answer seemed to be about what the Centaur leader had expected, but I couldn't say that he looked terribly happy about it.

"Human Hero, we would have parley with you and make treaty, if it is indeed possible for Men and Centaur to do so. Long have we been at odds and never has either race ever bent a knee to the will of the other. This is old tradition. Faced with the destruction of our race or slavery to others, we are now forced to break with tradition. Indeed, yesterday you slew our leader of our most traditionalist faction, as a result other factions today might speak with different and freer voices. Shall we make parley or should I prepare our people to accept our fate that we might all fall as an independent and free people following the old ways to the end?" Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. The Centaurs had never been friendly with men but their alternative was to commit racial suicide fighting us. This was going to be tricky.