Eric Flint: Ring of fire II

"I Am Afraid There Is Nothing I Can Do."

Down at the river, on the great bridge that spanned the Danube, she considered whether she might prevail on one of the squads of soldiers below…

What a laugh.

Besides, now that she was here and could see it herself, she really couldn't blame the soldiers for their attitude. The Bavarians were in the area, after all, with sizeable forces. The USE's troops were concentrating on protecting the bridge and spotting any attempt to ferry large numbers of soldiers across the river.

True, there was already a small fleet of boats on the river-six of them that she could see, just on this side of the bridge looking upstream-but they weren't clustered the way landing craft would be. Just some of the many commercial craft that plied one of Europe's major waterways day in and day out, and had been doing so for centuries.

She glanced at a small barge just passing below the bridge. This one, for instance, looked to be carrying mostly-

"You son-of-a-bitch!" she screeched.

She raced over to the downstream side of the bridge, clawing at the flap of her holster. By the time she got the pistol out and steadied her nerves enough to check that the clip was in and the safety was off, the barge had reappeared.

Janos was standing at the very stern, looking up at her. Wide-eyed, as if in fear or astonishment.

Well, no. Not fear. Wide-eyed with astonishment.

Not for long, though. Suddenly he broke into a smile-a genuine grin; the first she'd ever seen on his face-and doffed his battered-looking cap. The sort any boatman might wear, although the flourishing bow that followed had obviously been learned in palaces.

She pointed the gun right at him, remembering to use the two-handed grip that was her only chance of hitting anything. He replaced the cap on his head, but otherwise just kept standing there, looking at her. His face had no expression, now.

He was maybe twenty yards away. Well, thirty or forty, allowing for the height of the bridge.

She'd probably miss. Worse, she might miss him and accidentally hit somebody else. There were kids playing on the river bank. Way off to the side, sure, but she'd heard all the Annie Oakley jokes people made about her. It wasn't likely, but she might hit one of the kids. Or hit a piece of metal on the barge that caused a ricochet that hit one of the kids.

She wondered if Janos had heard the jokes. He might very well have, in fact, as smoothly as he could finagle information from people.

That was probably why he wasn't making any attempt to take cover.

Well, no. She knew as surely as she knew anything that even if she'd been as good a shot as the real Annie Oakley, Janos Drugeth would have done exactly what he was doing.

She even knew why. A Hungarian nobleman's valor was only part of it. Two days after the encounter in the church, she'd told him about the torturer in Franconia. And the hours she spent in prayer because of it. They understood each other quite well, in some ways.

There was no way she was going to pull the trigger, and she knew it, and he knew it, and he knew she knew he knew it, and…

"You are the most exasperating man!"

She leaned way over the rail of the bridge, clasped the gun tightly in both hands, pointed the barrel straight below her, and emptied the entire clip. She even had enough presence of mind to make sure another barge wasn't passing through before she did it.

And she didn't miss the water, either. Not once. Hit the Danube every time, dead nuts.

She felt a lot better, then. She even used the gun to give Janos a little salute as the barge made its way down toward Austria. She didn't stop looking at him until it passed out of sight. And he didn't stop looking at her.

Then she giggled. "I guess Denise was right. Maybe I should get a tattoo."

When the others finally emerged from the shelter they'd taken behind the goods piled on the barge, Allen O'Connor came up to Janos, still standing in the stern.

"You got balls, I'll give you that. I told you the woman was crazy."

Janos said nothing. If a man couldn't recognize a sign from God, right in front of his face, what was the point of explaining it to him?

O'Connor shook his head. "No telling what she'll do. You ought to warn the emperor about her."

"Oh, yes. I most certainly shall."

High Street Mansion, Seat of Government for the State of Thuringia-Franconia

President's Office

Grantville, State of Thuringia-Franconia

December 1634

"As long as the Regensburg authorities drop the serious charges," said Ed Piazza, "we won't contest the rest. We don't actually want to let people get the notion that officials of the SoTF can fire a gun anytime and anywhere they please."

Josua Mai, one of the down-timers who served the SoTF as legal advisers, seemed hesitant. "Ah… Mr. President. I'm afraid that the charge of fishing without license and with equipment not approved by the fisherman's guild is a serious charge, in Regensburg. The fine is quite heavy."

"Is there any jail time, too?"

"Not if the fine is paid. Otherwise…" He grimaced.

Ed nodded. "So we'll pay the fine. It's not as if we're actually broke. Not even close, in fact."

The lawyer looked as if he might argue the matter. Despite his good humor, Ed was not in the mood for legal quibbling. "We'll pay it," he said firmly. "Noelle's gone way past her pay grade plenty of times, what she's been willing to tackle. The least we can do is return the favor. End of discussion."

He sat up straight, just to emphasize the point. "Any spin-off problems I need to deal with?"

Mai looked at his notes. "Well, Grantville will need a new garrison commander, but that's not something you need to deal with, Mr. President."

"I thought it was decided not to fire Knefler. Not that I'd mind it if he quit. Sure, he screwed up, but you can't fire officers just for making one mistake."

"Ah… the problem is of a different nature. It seems that shortly after he returned to Grantville he assaulted Denise Beasley with a quirt. Tried to, at least. According to the report I received from Chief Richards, the girl was actually doing a fair job of defending herself with-ah-" He rummaged in the notes and drew forth another sheet. "Seemingly, every loose object you might find in a roadside tavern, short of a full-size table."

Ed chuckled. "Boy, can I picture that. Girl's got a hell of an arm. Star pitcher for the girl's baseball team until she lost interest." Then, he scowled ferociously. "But what I want to know is why we didn't fire Knefler for that."

The lawyer was still examining the report. "He will be discharged for it, Mr. President. After he gets out of the hospital. His injuries were quite severe. A number of bruises and a split lip inflicted by the girl-Chief Richards says she gave as good as she got-and then…" He cleared his throat. "Well. The father arrived. And was apparently in a very foul temper even before Knefler drew his sword. Tried to draw his sword, rather."

Both Ed and Carol winced. "Oh, Lord," she said.

After the lawyer left, Carol Unruh shook her head. "What was Noelle thinking? She's usually such a responsible person."

Ed leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head. After the news came of Noelle's arrest, he'd finally taken the time to visit Denise Beasley and get her version of the whole Noelle vs. Captain Drugeth Affair.

The full, complete, unabridged-nay, annotated and footnoted-Denise Beasley version.

"Domestic violence can be a terrible thing," he intoned solemnly.

Carol frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, actually. But it'll sure be interesting to find out."

The day after she got back to Grantville, Noelle did get a tattoo. She'd always secretly harbored a desire for one, she just hadn't seen any way she could pull it off. But she figured three days in the squalid jail Regensburg maintained for women-God only knew what the men's jail was like-gave her the needed credentials.