Mack Reynolds - The Space Barbarians

The beam flamed them down and then touched as though with a magic finger the skimmer, which fell back to the ground in two parts and began to burn furiously.

John of the Hawks wrenched from the struggling cornet’s holster the handgun and rolled aside to direct the weapon at the door of the longhouse and the two remaining soldiers who came running forth. He cut them down, before they could bring their own weapons to bear.

All was death in the square now, save for John of the Hawks and Cornet DeRudder, both of whom now came to their feet.

John of the Hawks snapped, “Don’t move!”

From the longhouse came two of his fellow Caledonians, both of them shrugging out of their black robes. Beneath, they wore kilts. One of them contemptuously wiped his skean on the robe before he tossed it away.

When they came up, John snapped, “Quickly, both of you. Into the vehicle of the air before it is entirely consumed. Any weapons, especially, and books or tapes. Throw them out the door. Remain inside searching as long as you can bear the heat.”

The two ducked into the smoking, burning skimmer, and shortly various objects began to be tossed out onto the ground.

The remaining two Caldonians, also now in kilts, rather than black robes, issued from the longhouse and came up.

John said, “All are dead?”

One shrugged. “Why not? They are puny men. In close combat, any clannsman is worth a half dozen of such.”

John of the Hawks said, “Don’t be overconfident, Thomas of the Davidsons. It seldom becomes a matter of close combat with these men from Beyond. They deal their death at great distance.”

He looked at the skimmer, which was beginning now to burn more fiercely. “I had thought to build a signal fire for Don of the Clarkes,” he said. “But it will hardly be necessary. Aüi, their so-called laser rifles are a deadly tool.”

Thomas of the Davidsons looked at the silent, deep breathing Cornet DeRudder. “This is the one for the assembly of the Dail?”

“None else are left. Besides, he is a chief and hence more suitable.” He looked at the dead men. “You had best gather up their weapons. Then return to the longhouse and begin to gather such books and tapes, weapons and charges for the weapons as are here. And also their medicines. But above all, the books and weapons.”

The second of the two clansmen looked at him strangely but turned and followed Thomas of the Davidsons to obey his superior’s orders.

John turned back to DeRudder, even as his other two clannsmen stumbled out of the destroyed skimmer, coughing, their faces flushed from the fire.

One called, “We can do no more, John of the Hawks.”

DeRudder said, “We’d all better get away from the vicinity of the ship. It might go up at any time. Explode.”

John rapped, “Gather up the weapons. Get them away. They are the most valuable things on all Caledonia. They and the books.”

The others followed his command hurriedly, while John and DeRudder made their way to the side of the square.

“So we meet again, Mister of the DeRudders,” John said.

DeRudder, who was obviously shaken by the precipitous actions of the past ten minutes, said, “ Mister is a title, something like your sachem or sagamore . My name is Samuel DeRudder, and my rank is cornet, somewhat similar to your rank of raid cacinue.”

“And what has happened to your companions of ten years and more ago? They who first came in the skyship Golden Hind and tried to cozen from us the products of our mines?”

DeRudder looked at him. “Harmon’s, ah, fate, I understand you are familiar with. He showed up at New Sidon and for a time spread the faith of the Shrine of Kalkin—since you stuffed soma down his throat. The skipper of the Golden Hind ? He died several years ago. He wasn’t a young man, and this exploitation of Caledonia didn’t go as quickly as we first hoped it would. Manola Perez? Manola is still with us. He holds down an executive position with United Interplanetary Mining.”

“And you?” John said. “You also hold a position with United Planetary Mining?”

“Yes, of course, and a military position with the Sidonian forces as well.”

A cloud of dust was beginning to manifest itself on the skyline. John looked in that direction, diverting his attention from DeRudder for the moment.

Approximately sixty clannsmen, carbines in hand, came riding up. Leading them was Don of the Clarks. His eyes went around the square, as did those of the whole troop.

“Aüi,” he blurted to John. “All succeeded. I hardly expected it to.”

He looked at the prisoner and scowled in memory. “It is Mister of the DeRudders. Older, but the same.”

The clannsmen were whooping and laughing in exuberation.

John snapped orders. “To the roof. Dismantle those two guns behind the emplacements. Rig litters on horses so that we can carry them. Get all the charges for them they have on hand. Go through the longhouse with care. I want every weapon, every book, all the medicine.”

One of the clannsmen, a sagamore of the Clann Fielding, said, “But we have no spare horses for such plunder as this.”

John looked at him. “We will dismount sufficient men to make room.”

Don said unhappily, “It is a poor place to be dismounted. We can ride two men on a horse. Double up.”

John shook his head at him. “No. We must ride hard, for these posts of the men from Beyond are in continual contact with the forces in New Sidon City. When communication is interrupted, they will send out additional craft to check on the reason. We must get these weapons and the prisoner back to the assembly of the Dail.”

He turned to one of his subchiefs. “Richard, Sagamore of the Coopers, choose twenty men to be dismounted. We need their steeds.”

Richard of the Coopers said blankly, “But what will they do?”

John said, “They can make their way on foot to Nairn and raid the Nairn herds. The whole town is composed of clannless slinks, by now. It will be nothing.”

Richard said, “There are precious few horses left in the Nairn herds.” But he turned to obey the command, calling for volunteers. There were few of these, however. The Caledonian is all but born on horseback and does not walk save in dire necessity. To volunteer for an action meaning certain death, yes; but to volunteer to give up one’s battle steed? No.

DeRudder said, “What are you going to do with me?” His throat was dry.

John looked at him in calculation. “You are the reason for this raid, Samuel, Cornet of the DeRndders.”

“The name is Cornet Samuel DeRudder,” the other said sourly. “What do you mean, I am the reason? Obviously, you never expected to see me when I emerged from the skimmer.”

“The Loch Confederation convenes in its annual Dail. The sachems and caciques wish to speak to a man from Beyond, to send a message to the Dail of the city of New Sidon.”

“There is no Dail of New Sidon City.”

“Whatever then is the equivalent.”

DeRudder looked at the men pouring in and out of the longhouse, laden down with spoil, which they were loading onto the beasts. “However, you don’t seem averse to doing a little looting whilst securing your messenger.”

John didn’t answer him. Instead, he began shrugging out of the orange robe. One of his clannsmen came up, carrying shoes and a belt with sword and skean. The supreme raid cacique sat on a rock, took off the sandals he had worn in his guise as a Shrine of Kalkin monk and replaced them with the shoes.

However, he took the belt, with its sword and dagger, and threw it away, to the ground. He said to DeRudder, “Your sidearm holster, please.” He still carried the other’s laser pistol in his hand.