John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

One of his sergeants came by and offered him a canteen of winter wine. Verkan took a deep drink. All this waiting was thirsty work, not to mention time consuming. And time was something he didn't have a lot of these days, especially with all the work he had left waiting back at Paratime Police HQ. This year's Year-End Day riots had been the worst in a millennium. The radical wing of the Prole Liberation Movement was claiming credit, while the establishment center of the PLM was decrying the riots and blaming them on citizen anti-prole prejudice.

There was still no sign of Dallas brother, Hadron Tharn, on First Level or any of his other regular haunts. Tharn had, however, stripped several of his holding companies of their assets through intermediaries, causing turmoil in the Home Time Line stock market. He was now the Number One fugitive topping both the Dhergabar Metropolitan Police and Paratime Police's most wanted lists.

Verkan's thoughts flashed back to the here-and-now when he spotted a small cloud of dust and half a dozen Hostigi scouts rode over the ridge and down into the valley. The scouts reached friendly lines and were tucked out of sight before the twenty-five to thirty enemy cavalry, with red and yellow helmet-plumes, followed behind. Verkan signaled his men to hold their fire. Not only was the Harphaxi detachment out of rifle range, but also he didn't want to warn the main body of the Mounted Rifles presence.

"Sergeant Ryff, bring these scouts to my tent at once!"

After Ryff left at a fast trot, Verkan gave a First Level hand signal to Captain Dalon, who was his Paratime Police assistant in this battle, now that Ranthar Jard was in Hos-Bletha with Kalvan's Insurrection Group. Dalon Sath had fought with Colonel Ranthar in the Army of the Trygath and had distinguished himself enough to win the rank of captain-Kalvan was very generous at rewarding faithful and decisive subordinates. Dalon was a master tech and in charge of the Beshtan observation sky-eyes.

Even though they were out of voice range of the locals, Verkan spoke in First Level, assuming that anyone who overheard them would believe it to be his native Grefftscharrer tongue. "Sath, I want you to change the setting on the sky-eye; I want to know what's coming over that ridge. Then contact Kirv at the Foundry and tell him to batten down the hatches."

Dalon Sath shook his head. "That's going to be tough, Chief. We've got the anti-gravity spotter almost within visual range now-"

"I don't care anymore. Our need for information overrides any transtemporal violation. If any indigenes see the satellite they'll just assume it's a portent of the coming battle. We need to know what's coming over those ridges. I'm not worried about some dirt farmer talking about Styphon's Eye in the Sky! Do it!"

"Yes sir, Chief."

When the Harphaxi scouting party reached the valley bottom they stopped to water their horses and fill their water flasks. Two of the enemy scouts threw off their buckskins and jumped into the creek, shouting and whooping it up. The Mobile Force sergeants ran up and down the line of riflemen making sure no one took a pot shot.

When Ryff returned with the scouts, Verkan debriefed them.

"Sir, there's a couple thousand Styphoni-even a band of Red Hand- coming our way."

After squeezing the scouts dry of what little information they had, he returned to the ridge to wait for the Harphaxi. The wait seemed interminable, but Verkan knew only ten or fifteen minutes had passed when the main body topped the rise and rode over the crest. As the Harphaxi cavalry moved into the valley the horsemen kept coming and coming and Verkan realized they were facing ten or twelve thousand horse. Many of the forward horsemen were light cavalry, with breastplates or leather jerkins, javelins and swords; but the majority wore the three-quarter-lobster armor of the cuirassier. Verkan wished he had a small battery of the heavy sixteen-pounders with explosive shells; they could have harvested a bloody crop on the much larger Harphaxi force.

Verkan had organized his Mobile Riflemen into three battalions, each containing three one-hundred man companies. The battalions were to fire in rotating volleys while the remaining HQ Company of sharpshooters fired at targets of opportunity-mainly officers and pockets of resistance.

He shouted, "ONE!" A single boom rolled through the valley, ripping through the Harphaxi men and horses alike. Taken by complete surprise, the Harphaxi detachment boiled, musketoons and pistols firing in every direction. Horses dropped and men spilled to the ground. "TWO!" Another volley, followed by a third, fourth and fifth, tore through the mass of enemy horsemen. His riflemen were using the new Minie balls and paper cartridges, which gave them the fastest rate of fire this time-line had ever seen.

The Harphaxi horsemen, with their red and yellow plumes, began to reform-even under the withering fire of the Mounted Rifles-and began to ride up the ridge. Still more riders came over the far ridge. Now Verkan could make out their shouting, "Down Kalvan! Down Kalvan!"

Verkan signaled his sergeants to stop firing and prepare for a single volley. The volley tore through the Harphaxi lines like a reaper through a fresh field. Suddenly, the wind changed and everything was obscured by swirling smoke. When the air cleared, the Harphaxi were half again as far up the ridge. The Mounted Rifles fired another volley and the leading riders went down in mass, the survivors jumping off their horses and scrambling close to the ground. Then the wind changed direction again and all he could see was roiling gray gunpowder smoke.

By the time the air had cleared again, a trooper had scrambled up the ridge and was pointing a bell-mouthed musketoon in his face. Captain Dalon shot him point-blank in the face with his horsepistol-even before Verkan could flinch.

"FIRE!" shouted Sergeant Ryff. The falling trooper and his companions, who'd lost their mounts and fought on foot, disappeared in a wash of red blood and swirling gray smoke. Verkan ran his sword point past the nasal guard and into the eye of one trooper trying to liberate a rifle from a fallen officer. The next volley fired through a scrum of patchy smoke and attacking cavalrymen. It took three more ragged volleys to clear the ridge and force the dismounted Harphaxi troopers into a retreat, signaled by the bellow of Harphaxi war horns.

Verkan had the healers and Uncle Wolfs brought to the front lines to remove the wounded and dead Hostigi on litters made of poles and blankets. Friendly casualties were surprisingly light. The enemy dead and wounded lay strewn over the hillside by the hundreds. The screams of wounded men and horses split the air.

The retreating Harphaxi reformed out of rifle range on the opposing hillside. Enemy reinforcements continued to join the main battle in small and large groupings, many of them dragoons. This was going to turn into a real rough-and-tumble if some Hostigi reinforcements didn't show up soon.

He walked down the line talking to his troopers giving them encouragement and making jokes at Styphon's expense. "How many Styphoni does it take to fire a musket?" he asked. "You don't know, do you? Five: one lower-priest to fill the pan with fireseed, one temple highpriest to push down the striker, one Archpriest to put fireseed and drop the bullet down the barrel and use the rammer, one Red Hand to fire it, and one Holy Investigator to hold the target!" It hadn't been half so funny back in camp, but here it drew gales of laughter.

He had time to smoke and refill his pipe twice before the Harphaxi cavalry formed up for their second attack.

A loud scream was the first indication of the attack on Crynn. Moments later the stableboy heard the bark of small arms, more screams, then the sound of horses galloping down the small town's main street. He peeked out of the stable to see a dozen horses with Styphon's Own Guard, their red capes whipping in the wind, riding down the street. He hadn't seen any of Styphon's Red Hand since the death of Balthar of Beshta, before Prince Phrames the Good took the chain of office. Styphon's Red Hand were firing indiscriminately at anyone on the street, including women and children. He saw one ginger-haired boy dodge a Guard's saber slash, only to be ridden into the dust by his mount.