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                               General Sid
                            by Lazlo Zalezac

Copyright© 2006 by Lazlo Zalezac


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Description: Our Hero, Sid, returns to Chaos to face his greatest challenge. After assembling a small cadre of advisors, Sid recruits a small army that to take on slavers to rescue three Damsels in Distress who have become enslaved. Follow his exploits as one of four generals in the Chaos Slave War.

Codes: MF slow ScFi rom
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Copyright© Lazlo Zalezac, 2005

I'd like to thank Drahkan for editing this story.

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Chapter 1


Sid worked around the outside of his house getting it prepared for winter. The hoses had to be disconnected, patio furniture carried into the garage, and the last of the fall leaves raked. None of the jobs required his full attention. As a result, he had plenty of time to think about his life.

In hindsight, he was sorry that he had told Cynthia about the portal. She hadn't gone through it yet and he didn't know if she really did want to go through it. He could tell that the idea of camping and wilderness cooking didn't thrill her. He didn't know if she was all that excited about the fact that she would have to take care of his sexual needs as well, although he could imagine that she was dreading the idea.

His biggest fear was that with her inexperience she would end up getting killed. For her to go to Chaos in the company of an individual who was knowingly riding into trouble was not a good thing; particularly when she didn't know even the basics of self-defense. He could imagine nothing worse than watching a lover die.

His second biggest fear was that she would complicate his relationship with Sally. Although she had learned the grace and manners of Sally, he wasn't convinced that having a relationship with Cynthia was a smart move. He feared that she would be jealous of Sally and forbid him from going to Crossroads to see her. Although Sally talked about him finding an Earth woman, he wasn't sure that she would really like that.

Working in a slow, but steady, pace, Sid finished the yard work early in the afternoon. It had only taken him about three hours to take care of all the tasks. His uncle had often said that a job rushed took twice as long. Satisfied with his work, he put the rake in the garage and closed the door. Everything was ready for whatever weather the winter might throw in his direction.

Standing in the front lawn, he looked over the property with appreciation for the gift his uncle had given him. He thought back to the times when his uncle and he would work in the yard. The men would work side by side while talking about honor, duty, and compassion. His uncle swore that his personal motto was, "Death before dishonor, duty before pleasure, and compassion above all else." Sid had enjoyed those discussions and taken the lessons to heart.

Entering the house, he grabbed a drink out of the refrigerator. Taking a sip as he headed towards the study, his progress was halted when the telephone rang. The closest phone was in the kitchen, so he went back in it. Picking up the handset, he answered somewhat suspiciously. He seldom received calls and those were usually from telephone salesman.

He didn't recognize the voice and became convinced that it was solicitor. Not wanting to open himself to an unwanted sales pitch, he was tempted to hang up. Instead, he listened to what the man on the other end had to say. The caller identified himself as Malcolm Charles Chandler and he mentioned traveling in the same circles as his uncle and that he had a caretaker. No longer concerned about the man being a salesman, Sid's thoughts turned to the darker suspicion that the man was a government agent who wanted to learn about the portal.

The conversation that followed was very awkward. The man insisted that they meet in Chaos at the Jones Citadel to solve some major crisis involving slavery. He said that the problem was so wide-spread that no hero alone could solve it. It was going to require several heroes to resolve. Sid wasn't sure what to think of the phone call. There were too many things that didn't add up as far as he was concerned.

After hanging up, Sid sat on the couch mentally reviewing the conversation. He didn't believe it was possible for Heroes to work together on Chaos based on his understanding of the rules, but Malcolm had answered that they wouldn't actually be working together, only for a common goal.

According to Malcolm, each Hero would take charge of an army and wage war on his own front. The idea of leading an army and waging a war was far different from the kinds of adventures Sid had imagined. He'd been a ground-pounder in the US Army, not an officer. He didn't have a clue concerning what was involved in leading an army.

Sid suspected that Malcolm was not a hero because he had some details wrong. Malcolm referred to Chirurgen as the Surgeon. On the other hand, he did say that the Surgeon would seek revenge. The suggestion of revenge was actually the one thing that he believed, but the fact was that he had the name wrong.

Malcolm had also mentioned an inheritance and that he wanted them to meet at the Jones Citadel. Sid had read his uncle's journals and there had been no mention of a citadel in them. Furthermore, Sally hadn't said anything about him being able to inherit something in Chaos from his uncle. As far as he knew, a hero had to build his own legacy.

Sid went to the study and opened the wall safe. If there was any truth to the story that his uncle had owned a citadel, his journal would have to mention it in some fashion. Opening the journal, Sid sat back and started to read it while looking for any hints about a citadel. Now that he knew what to look for in the journals, he found evidence that Malcolm's story had elements of truth in it. There was one section that hinted that his base of operations supported a thriving population of merchants, farmers, and fighters. The passage was consistent with a citadel.

The material gave Sid pause to think about the story Malcolm had told him. On his last visit to Crossroads, Sally had mentioned that one of the Damsels had been taken as a slave. The idea of leading an Army bothered him. He didn't know anything about being a commander of other soldiers.

For several hours, Sid sat at the desk holding the piece of paper on which he had written Malcolm's telephone number. He knew that he didn't know enough about his Uncle's time in Chaos to disprove his ownership of a Citadel. Shaking his head, he decided to put off making a decision.

The next day, Sid went to school. English class wasn't particularly interesting until one of the young women said, "I would have loved to have lived in medieval times."

Unable to hold himself back, Sid laughed. Upon seeing the dirty look the woman gave him, he said, "No you wouldn't. You would hate everything about those times."

One of the other women in the class looked at Sid and said, "Those were Romantic Times."

Laughing softly, Sid replied, "They only seem Romantic in hindsight. The fact of the matter is that life was very tough. The leading cause of death for women was childbirth and women became mothers at fifteen or sixteen. Infant mortality was extremely high. Disease was rampant and medicine was basically non-existent. Measles, plague, flu, and smallpox killed off people by the millions.

"People worked from sunrise to sunset with inefficient tools and died young. I'm not talking about what we consider hard work. I'm talking about real physical labor. Plowing a field behind a horse required wrestling the plow through the ground and clearing the field of rocks. There weren't microwaves, grocery stores, and you had to wash clothes by hand. If it couldn't be done with muscle, then it wasn't done. They were perfectly horrible times."

A romantic at heart, Susan looked at Sid surprised by his attitude. Ever since he had described his idea of a perfect woman, she had thought he possessed a Romantic soul. She asked, "What about the relations between men and women?"

"Men and women achieved a certain amount of equality if you consider they both worked until they dropped dead. Away from the house, women were easy victims for desperate men. With women dying at a young age from childbirth, older men took young wives. Fourteen and fifteen year old girls were married to forty year old men. We aren't talking about good looking men. We're talking about men who had lost a good percentage of their teeth, had faces scarred from smallpox, and hardened by years of hard work," answered Sid.

The woman said, "You're talking about peasants. I wouldn't want to be a peasant."

"I don't think you'd want to be a noblewoman. Most of your life would be spent in boring activities with only short moments of entertainment. Perhaps you think that you'd be surrounded by witty conversation. Sorry, but your entire life would revolve around gossip. Parties? Any social blunder would be the subject of years of humiliating talk. Travel? You get more travel going to and from school than the average noblewoman would experience in a month. Romance? You'd be married off to some fat Duke or Merchant for political or financial reasons."

"The literature tells a different story," said Susan realizing that this was an opportunity for the class to learn one of the lessons she wanted to convey.

"Believing that life was the way it is presented in the great Romantic works of the past is a lot like believing that the Walt Disney version of Bambi is an accurate reflection of life in the wild," replied Sid shaking his head. Thinking about it for a moment, he asked, "How many people in here believe that modern life is like 'Sleepless in Seattle'?"

A large percentage of the women in class raised their hands. When Sid asked, "How many of you have experienced the romance described within that movie?"

All of the hands went down. Surprised to hear Sid talk in such a manner, Cynthia asked, "So you don't believe in romance?"

The question took Sid by surprise. Frowning, he thought about it for a moment while all female eyes turned to examine him. Looking up from his desk, he said, "Quite the contrary. I believe in romance far more than most of the people I've met."

His answer took everyone in the room by surprise. It seemed contrary to what he had just said about what many considered to be an Age of Romance. Based on the looks he was getting, he felt it was necessary to explain.

"I think now is the first real opportunity in history for us to live Romantic lives. Men and women do not have to work from sunrise to sunset to survive. Men now have the time to spend with women to make them feel special. Women have the time to dress well and act with the kind of grace written about in the older works."

He sighed and said, "I think the great tragedy of our times is that we are doing everything we can to destroy romance. Women are demanding to be treated like men. They argue against men opening the doors for them. They object to being treated like a valuable possession that is to be cherished. They won't treat men special. They tell men not to treat them romantically and then they are upset that men don't romance them.

"I'm not saying that women are to blame. Men are just as responsible for this mess as are women. Men have been raised with old fashioned ideas that they have to be in charge. Men fail to recognize that their attitude harkens back to the days when men worked the field because that is where brawn was required. Of course, the field meant the survival of the family and that gave him a lot of authority. We don't work in the field anymore.

"Men and women work together in the business world rather than the family farm. Despite that, we continue to define the roles of men and women along those archaic lines. Now women come home from work, only to work around the house while the man rests on his ass watching television. From the women's perspective, it is a raw deal."

His comment was greeted with several exclamations of agreement from the women in the room. More than one of the women said, "You can say that again."

Sid nodded his agreement and continued, "With women demanding to be treated like men, men are negotiating relationships as if it were a business deal. They don't pursue women in a romantic manner because men are now competing with women for their jobs. Women are demanding that old roles be abandoned even if it means giving up the one thing they really want — romance."

Although she was still trying to decide if his comments were sexist, Susan asked, "So what is the solution?"

"I think that we have to establish our priorities to support Romance. Right now, everyone appears to be after money and wealth. We have to keep up with the Jones'. Being a Jones, I can tell you right now that we are going about that the wrong way. Every man I know would be jealous of a neighbor whose wife greets him at the door dressed to kill. Every woman would kill to have a husband who comes home with flowers and gifts for her. Such romantic gestures are far cheaper than that fancy car we buy to impress the neighbors," said Sid with a grin.

Raising an eyebrow, Professor Smith intentionally misrepresented what he had said earlier when she asked, "So why should we read classic literature if, as you say, it propagates old values that don't fit modern times?"

Frowning, Sid answered, "I don't think I said that. If I did, then I didn't mean it that way. I said that the classic romantic literature didn't reflect life as it was lived at the time it was written. I think that we should read the classics so that we know what constitutes romance."

"What?" asked one of the women in the class.

"You can find a hundred books in the self-help section of the bookstore on how to make love to your partner. I challenge you to find one book on how to romance your partner in that part of the bookstore. Our only sources for that are the classics."

Smiling, Professor Smith looked around the class and asked, "So you think that the classics have more value today than in the past?"

"Exactly," said Sid.

"I couldn't agree with you more," answered Professor Smith. She looked around the classroom and asked, "Does anyone have a comment?"

No one raised their hands. Cynthia wanted to ask Sid how he would achieve a romantic lifestyle, but refrained from asking the question. She knew that she would have a chance to do that at a later time. The other women in the class stared at Sid and wondered what kind of life they would have with him. Several looked over at Cynthia and wondered how Sid treated her.

On getting out of his History class, Sid was not surprised to find Cynthia waiting for him. They walked to the library together with him holding out his arm for her and her hand resting in the crook of his arm. It was a very old-fashioned style of walking with a woman and they received their fair share of odd looks.

Ever since her makeover, heads turned to watch Cynthia walk past. Her subdued makeup made her look like a fashion model rather than a cheap tramp. Her clothes showed off her figure to best advantage, giving her a sultry look rather than a smutty appearance. The moderately high heels gave definition to the calves of her legs. Her erect posture gave her a regal bearing. The runway model walk demanded attention from all of the men she passed.

Cynthia oscillated between being very aware of the attention she received and being oblivious to it. On this particular occasion, she was not aware of it since her mind was on other matters. She didn't know how to say what she felt about Chaos. It wasn't the fact that she was required to have sex with Sid or that the whole outdoors thing was totally foreign to her nature; the fact was that she didn't really believe the story about Crossroads and Chaos.

"I've been thinking about this adventure thing and I'm not sure I can do it. I don't really like camping and hiking," Cynthia said. She looked over at him hoping that he would say something that would allow him to drop this fantasy.

Sid looked at her out of the corner of his eye and said, "You are curious enough about Sally that you'd go through with it, though."

"Maybe," she answered.

"Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?" Sid asked.

"No."

"What do you know about camping? Can you cook over an open fire? What kind of martial arts have you studied? Could you defend yourself if we're attacked?" Sid asked. He wanted to raise the questions in the belief that she should know exactly what she would be getting into if she went to Chaos. After a pause, he added, "Are you really willing to take care of certain urges that I might get while there?"

As he asked the questions, she mentally answered them, 'I know nothing about camping. I can't cook over a fire. I don't even know what martial arts are. I'd yell and scream if attacked and probably wet my panties. Yes, I'd love to take care of all your urges.' Aloud she answered, "You're probably right. I wouldn't fit in there."

"You know what scares me?" Sid asked.

"No, what?"

"That we go to Chaos, become lovers and then you get killed there."

His statement about becoming lovers sent a thrill of excitement through Cynthia unlike any other she had experienced. Heart fluttering, she saw an opening for him to drop the Chaos stuff. In a soft voice, she said, "You don't need to take me to Chaos for us to become lovers."

They had reached the library and now wasn't the time to get into a discussion about their relationship. Rather than answer, he took her hand and turned to face her. In a soft voice, he said, "We'll talk about that later. For now, I need to get to work."

She said, "I would like for us to meet tonight so that we can talk for a little bit."

Sid thought that was a good idea. Suddenly inspired, he said, "I'll tell you what, I finally got a check from the insurance company and my bank account is a little flush. Why don't we eat at a steak place tonight?"

"That sounds wonderful. I need to go home and freshen up a little," Cynthia said.

"I'll pick you up at seven, if that is all right with you."

"That would be perfect," Cynthia said. She turned and walked away believing she was going on a first date with him. As she walked away, in a soft voice that he couldn't hear, she said, "We'll do more than talk tonight."

Sid entered the library and looked around at the tables that ran through the center and the rows of books that stood like soldiers to the sides. The head librarian was seated at her desk to the side of the large room keeping an eye over her domain. He put his book bag on the shelf and went to find out what his duties were for the afternoon. Working in the library was not the most exciting job, but it was quiet and gave him time to think.

Even before he reached the head librarian, she pointed to several carts full of books. Returning books to the proper shelves was a calming activity. First, he sorted the books on the cart and then went down the aisles locating the proper spot for them. As he worked, he would reshelf any book that had been put in the wrong spot. It didn't require any great mental ability to do the job correctly.

Today, he had a lot to think about. The call the previous day had bothered him. He kept wondering if the man was telling the truth. Sally had mentioned something about a Damsel being taken as a slave on his last visit. Rescuing her had been one of the choices he had been offered. He shook his head wondering if he should have rescued the Damsel facing slavery. As he worked, Sid came to the decision that he would call Malcolm to learn more about the situation on Chaos.

Having resolved his problem with Malcolm, he turned his attention to Cynthia. It was clear to him that she didn't really want to go to Chaos. In thinking it over, he knew the whole reason for including her as a Hero Companion was so that she could meet Sally. Considering the success of her make-over, there wasn't really a need for her to meet his caretaker.

While Sid was hard at work in the library, Cynthia was at home thinking about her relationship with Sid while preparing for her date. She had been on an emotional rollercoaster ever since that afternoon when she had sat down at his table to request his help in becoming the ideal woman he had described in class. He had accepted to help her and help her, he had.

Looking in the mirror, she could hardly believe the transformation in her appearance as a result of his advice. The shy girl who wore baggy clothes that hid her body was gone. The clothes he had picked out for her were outstanding. After dressing like this for two weeks, not one person had criticized her outfits. Men watched her with desire in their eyes and women didn't make catty comments about her looking like a slut. She could attend church wearing this dress and no one would think twice about it.

The sessions with Mrs. Wilson had been life altering. The old woman had opened her eyes with respect to how men and women should act with each other. Manners were not just about acting nice to others, but also about becoming the center of attention. When a man opened the door for a woman, he was paying attention to her. When a woman thanked him while she stepped through the door, she was paying attention to him. The shared awareness of the others around them also meant that each person was the center of attention. It was all rather heady stuff.

Her thoughts returned to Sid. He was the only young man who treated her with impeccable manners. He gave her his arm when they walked together; he opened doors for her; and did the thousands of little things that constituted a graceful lifestyle. When they were together, she felt as if she was the center of the universe. It only made sense that her crush on him had blossomed into love.

Sid was perfect except for his insistence that his fantasy worlds were real. The whole idea that he could walk through his closet door and be transported to an alien planet was absurd. That a beautiful woman was waiting there to have amazing sex with him, and only him, was an adolescent fantasy that was more appropriate for a thirteen year old boy than a full grown man. She wished that he would drop the subject all ready.

So far, she had played along with him, but she was beginning to tire of it. His assertion that she had much to learn from his fantasy woman was beginning to get irritating. Cynthia was a real flesh and blood woman, not some fantasy construct. He should turn his romantic attentions to her.

She sighed as she considered his attitude towards her. He was attentive, but it was the kind of attention that was consistent with his manners. Outside of the few hints that she would have to have sex with him on Chaos, he had said nothing to lead her to believe that he was interested in her as a woman. He was a perfect gentleman and it was frustrating. She wasn't sure if the dinner tonight constituted a date or not.

It wasn't as though Sid was her only prospect. In the past few weeks she had become a very desirable woman and men had noticed. Every day, she was turning down several requests for dates from some very handsome men. Admittedly most of those requests came from jerks, men who thought they were God's gift to women. Still, not all of the men were jerks.

She had noticed a lot of men who were basically shy paying attention to her and knew that she could get them to ask her out with little difficulty. Mrs. Wilson had explained how manners allowed a woman to introduce herself to a man in a very gentle and non- threatening way. A gentle word given in the right time and place could disarm even the shyest man.

The problem was that none of the other men were Sid. He was handsome, strong, and polite. She felt safe in his presence and that meant a lot to a single young woman. There were times when he looked at her that he made her weak in the knees.

She glanced at the clock and realized that she had better hurry in getting dressed. Mrs. Wilson had told her that a young man should be willing to wait for a young woman, but that the young woman should not make it a habit of making him wait. Habitual tardiness was rude. All too many young women made that mistake thinking they were somehow getting the young man to desire them more by that habit. Cynthia wasn't going to make that mistake.



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Chapter 2


Time passed and, before Sid knew it, his shift in the library was over. He returned to his house, showered, shaved, and dressed in preparation for his dinner with Cynthia. Knowing that he would be accompanying a woman to a public place, he chose to wear dress pants, a light blue shirt, and a sports coat. The restaurant wasn't formal enough to demand that he wear a suit. As it was, he'd probably be the most formally dressed person at the place.

Exiting the house, he looked over his pickup truck. It was old, but he kept it in good mechanical condition and the interior clean. Although the exterior could use a wash, he didn't have time for it. He debated the matter for a moment and decided to go straight to pick up Cynthia. After all, this wasn't a date, but a meeting between friends.

It was a short drive to her house and he made it in good time. Stepping up to the front door, he rang the doorbell. He could hear the bell from his side of the door. It was only a few seconds before Cynthia answered the door and he wondered if she had been waiting on the other side.

Cynthia had gone all out when dressing. She was wearing a very nice blue dress that hugged her body in all the right places. The neckline was low enough to show off the gentle swell of her breasts without being obscene. The hemline was to just below the knee. The quality of her hose was good enough to make a man wonder if she was wearing stockings. Her heels matched the color of her dress and gave a nice shape to her calves.

Sid pleased to see that she was ready to leave. Although many women felt they were obliged to make a man wait, he felt that it was rudeness on their part. It was as though a date started with an explicit statement that the man wasn't important enough for her to assure that she would be on time. Cynthia had never made him wait even though he had never mentioned his view on the matter.

He gave her his arm and led her to the truck. As she walked, the material of her dress swished and swayed accentuating the swing of her hips. The next door neighbor, a middle aged man who had known her since she was a young girl, paused to watch her walk past and wondered when she had grown into such a lovely young woman. He shook his head at how fast life moved and returned to what he had been doing.

Once they reached the truck, Sid held the door open for her. She slipped into her seat with what looked like natural grace, but was actually the result of many hours of drill by Mrs. Wilson. In a way, it was much easier to enter the truck in a graceful manner than the typical sedan. Stepping up to the seat was a little easier than lowering herself to a seat. He closed the door once she was comfortably settled in the car.

When he slipped into his seat, she asked, "Are you sure that you want to go out and eat?"

"Yes," answered Sid thinking that she was concerned that he was spending too much money on this evening.

Cynthia was quiet for a moment as she considered some way to get the whole Hero thing out in the open. She said, "I don't think I will make a very good Hero's Companion."

"You're probably right," replied Sid glancing over in her direction to see the effect of his agreement. He wondered if this was one of those types of questions in which no answer a man gave was the right one.

"Yes," she agreed hoping that he was taking this as a means to come clean about the whole matter.

"The only reason we discussed you becoming a Hero Companion was so that you could meet Sally. I don't think either of us really thought about you trooping through the wilderness and facing villains," said Sid.

"I guess I was kind of thinking about what we'd do with each other while on Chaos," said Cynthia as a short little fantasy of the two of them making love next to a waterfall flashed through her mind in a fraction of a second.

"I can imagine," Sid said in a voice that suggested he was bothered by that prospect. He couldn't see a single positive reason for her to travel to Chaos. He was convinced that everything about the time spent on Chaos would be torture. The idea that his sexuality would contribute to that torture bothered him.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Cynthia feeling as if she'd been insulted. From the way he had answered, it sounded like he was sure that she couldn't keep her hands off him because of his heroic manner. She couldn't believe that he would start with the macho bullshit that all women would want to sleep with him.

"I'm sure that you were dreading that even more than camping," Sid answered as he started the car. He looked over at Cynthia and saw the expression on her face. Wondering what he had said that was so wrong, he turned off the engine and asked, "What?"

"That was the only reason I was still considering the idea," said Cynthia blurting out more information than intended.

"Oh," said Sid feeling foolish. It took a moment for the full implications of what she said to sink into his brain. Realizing that she was actually looking forward to serving his needs, he asked, "Really?"

Biting her lower lip, Cynthia stared at Sid unable to believe that he was totally unaware of her feelings for him. She wondered if he was so caught up in his fantasy world that he wasn't looking for a way to put it behind them. Trying to look casual, she said, "Uh, let's get to the restaurant."

Sid stared at Cynthia for a couple of seconds before starting the car. As he drove to the restaurant, his mind was racing a thousand miles per hour. He wondered if she would care to have a relationship with him knowing that he would disappear to have adventures in Chaos. Shaking his head, he wondered what she would think about him sleeping with Sally and the Damsels he rescued. He decided that it wasn't something that could be decided then and there, but would have to be the subject of future discussions.

The Texas House of Steak was a steak house that attempted to have a Texan atmosphere. Rough unfinished planks decorated the walls in an attempt to look rustic. Sid recalled the places in Chaos and knew what rustic really looked like. Rustic was dirt floors and often included major gaps in the walls that were filled with dried mud.

The décor was tacky. On the walls hung items associated with cowboys, including hats, spurs, ropes, and tack. Filling in large spaces around the cowboy paraphernalia were pictures of cowboys and movie posters of westerns. John Wayne was the most frequent actor represented on the movie posters.

Cynthia looked around the room impressed by the atmosphere. The only time she had ever been to a place as nice as this was with her parents and that had been for her high school graduation. She said, "Isn't this a nice place?"

"Yes, it is," Sid said without the same level of enthusiasm she demonstrated. He'd been stationed for a while in Fort Hood and didn't recall Texas looking quite this bad. Considering the location of Fort Hood that was saying a lot.

A hostess wearing blue jeans, a western style shirt, and a straw cowboy hat led them to a table. She wore tennis shoes rather than boots and the hat sat too high on her head giving her the appearance of a rodeo clown rather than a cowgirl. After handing out menus, the woman said, "Your waitress will be right over."

They spent a few minutes in silence examining the menu. Sid picked out the large T-bone steak and set the menu to the side. He watched as Cynthia debated different items. Several minutes passed before she finally said, "I think I'd like the Grilled Tuna."

"What about side dishes?" Sid asked so that he would know what to order.

"I guess I'll go with the salad bar rather than the soup. The rice pilaf and vegetables would be good with the tuna," she answered.

"Care for a nice Cabernet with your dinner?"

"That would be wonderful," she answered without mentioning that she wasn't old enough to legally drink wine.

It was a few minutes later when the waitress, also wearing a straw cowboy hat and sneakers, arrived to take their drink orders. Sid ordered a glass of Cabernet for Cynthia and a beer for himself. The waitress took the fact that he ordered for the both of them in stride. After she left to turn in their drink order, Sid said, "I have come to the decision that it isn't necessary for you to meet Sally. I would have to say that you have transformed yourself into a woman that any man would desire."

"Oh, thank you. However, I was looking forward to meeting Sally," Cynthia said wanting to make him sweat a little. She smiled at the thought that he had finally given up his whole fantasy world.

Sid frowned and thought about it. He had thought that a conversation with Sally would teach Cynthia a little about how to turn on the sex appeal and how to behave with a man in a more private encounter. He said, "I suppose we could start training if you really want to go. My next adventure is in three weeks."

"Three weeks? I thought you said it would be in a week."

"I received a call from another hero yesterday. All adventures are postponed. Apparently there is going to be a war there and I'm needed to lead an army."

Cynthia rolled her eyes at the statement about leading an army. He wasn't giving up his fantasy world. Disappointed, she said, "That's nice."

Her answer was so out of step with the discussion that it confused Sid for a moment. Rather than respond, he said, "Well, as I was about to say. It is probably for the best if you don't go there. You might want to consider it sometime in the future when you're better prepared."

"Okay," Cynthia said.

"I hope you aren't disappointed."

Cynthia smiled despite his continued insistence that his world was real. Happy that he was dropping it as a fiction that she had to buy into, she said, "Only that you aren't interested in taking me there so that I can relieve your sexual tensions after a hard day of thrashing villains to an inch of their lives."

Sid laughed at the obvious joke. Shaking his head, he said, "Good one."

She was going to say more, but the waitress arrived with their drinks. She was now entirely convinced that Chaos and Crossroads was a fiction and he was trying to weasel out of the suggestion that he take her there. She hoped it meant that they could start having a real relationship in which the fiction didn't interfere with honest discussion.

After the waitress placed their drinks in front of them, she then asked for their dinner orders. Having discussed the matter with Cynthia, Sid ordered for the both of them. The waitress didn't comment, apparently used to that kind of behavior. It was clear to Sid that a sufficient number of her customers were elderly.

Once the meals had been ordered and the waitress had departed, the couple went to the salad bar and prepared small dinner salads. They carried their plates back to the table and took their places. Sid felt that salad bars were one of the symptoms of a world that had forgotten romance. It was hard to maintain an intimate conversation when you had to leave the table to get your own food.

Once they were seated, Cynthia asked, "So is there more that you want to tell me?"

"Oh, yes. Well," answered Sid trying to collect his thoughts. After taking a sip of his beer, he said, "You asked me to help you become more like the ideal woman I described in class. Judging by the way you dress, walk, talk, and carry yourself, I would have to say that you have gotten as close to the ideal woman as I can imagine."

"Thank you." She was touched by his obvious compliment, although the reminder of the basis for their relationship was a sore spot.

"With your decision not to go to Crossroads, there is nothing more I can do for you."

Cynthia looked surprised at the direction of the conversation. She wondered if he was about to drop her. Hesitating, she said, "I suppose so."

"Now that my part in this is done, I'd like to ask you for a date," Sid said.

Frowning, Cynthia asked, "Isn't this a date?"

Surprised by her answer, he said, "No. I asked you to dinner so that we could discuss your visit to meet Sally."

"Oh, I guess I misunderstood."

"If this had been a date, we'd have never done anything so crass as to go to a restaurant. I would have prepared a much better way for us to spend our time together. I believe that a date requires much more planning than just a simple, 'Let's go out to eat.' That is particularly true of a first date," Sid said.

"Really?" asked Cynthia. She'd never been on a date as nice as this one. She wondered what he considered a proper first date.

"Yes, really. It is all about romance," answered Sid. Gesturing to their surroundings, he said, "I know that a dinner date is the extent of modern romantic thinking, but let's be honest — there's nothing really romantic about a meal in a restaurant. They want to get customers in and out as fast as possible."

"Now you have me curious about what a real date involves. I guess I would be quite pleased if you would ask me on a date." Cynthia felt foolish talking in that manner.

Sid said, "I think there is nothing ruder than misleading someone intentionally."

"I have to agree."

"You must understand that there is no way that I will ever give up my trips to Crossroads and Chaos," Sid said.

At his continued insistence that his fantasy world was real, Cynthia decided it was a face saving effort. Plastering a false smile on her face, she replied, "I understand."

"Going to Crossroads and rescuing Damsels requires that I engage in certain activities that are of a rather private nature while I'm in Crossroads."

"Like sleeping with Sally and impregnating the Damsel," Cynthia said. She wondered if she was going to be able to compete with an imaginary woman. Imaginary women were too perfect and could do no wrong.

"Yes."

"I understand," said Cynthia.

"So may I have the honor of your company next Sunday for a date?" Sid asked satisfied that the matter had been laid to rest.

"Yes. I would be honored to accompany you next Sunday," she replied wondering if she was making a mistake.

The waitress arrived carrying a large round tray with their food. A busboy rushed over with a stand and opened it for her. After setting the tray on the stand, the waitress placed their orders on the table without having to ask which meal belonged to which person. After a quick question about if there was any thing more they needed, she disappeared before they even had a chance to answer. Sid watched the waitress run off and shook his head. Turning to Cynthia, he said, "Good appetite."

For the most part, they were silent as they ate their meals. After long stretches of silence, they would exchange comments about the quality of the food. Sid's steak was prepared just as he had ordered it and it tasted good. Cynthia loved her grilled tuna and, unlike what many young women would do when in a restaurant with a young man, ate the entire thing. Sid appreciated the fact that she actually ate the meal.

Once they had finished eating, they discussed school and their plans for the future. Cynthia admitted that she had not yet selected a major although she was considering accounting. Sid told her that he was considering a business major, although he was finding his history class much more enjoyable than he had anticipated. It was a comfortable time and Crossroads was never mentioned.

Sid took Cynthia home. Once there, he walked her to the door and waited until she had entered the house before leaving. Before parting, they went over the details of the date. He was to pick her up at noon on Sunday and would return her at home by ten.

Exactly at noon on Sunday, Sid walked up the path to Cynthia's door wearing an overcoat over a nice suit. The weather was cool enough to require the coat. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers, held out proudly for all to see rather than down at his side as if embarrassed by them. He rang the doorbell and stepped back to wait. Her mother answered the door and invited him inside. Sid introduced himself to the woman and explained that he would be bringing Cynthia home around ten that evening. As a courtesy, he gave her an overview of their itinerary in case there was a need to get in contact with them.

After a few minutes, Cynthia entered the room. She was wearing a beautiful white dress such as a woman might wear to church on Easter. It was attractive, sexy, and virginal at the same time. When he presented her with the bouquet of flowers, her smile could have brightened a sunny day. Her mother flitted around the couple and ultimately ran off with the flowers to put them in a vase.

Ever the gentleman, Sid helped Cynthia into her coat while her mother watched in amazement. Although Cynthia had never dated much, she had worried about her daughter and the kinds of boys who had come to the house in the past. She couldn't believe that Cynthia had managed to find a young man who was such a gentleman. After Sid escorted Cynthia from the house, her mother was left in the living room making wedding plans.

From the house, Sid took Cynthia to a greenhouse owned by a friend of his. Considering the time of year, it was too cold outside for a picnic. The greenhouse, used to raise cacti, was warm and dry. It was the perfect place for a picnic. He took her coat and hung it on a peg near the door. His coat went on the peg beside hers.

After laying out a blanket on a small patch of ground near the door of the greenhouse, he led Cynthia to it and helped her get seated. She kept looking around at the exotic plants amazed at her surroundings. She had grown up in the area and had never known the greenhouse was here.

Placing a picnic basket next to the blanket, Sid settled on the blanket next to her. Making a big production out if it, he set out a large lunch of finger sandwiches, sliced fruits, vegetables with a dip, and a bottle of wine. After opening the wine, he poured two glasses and handed one to Cynthia. Raising his glass, he said, "Here's to our first date."

"I'm amazed," Cynthia answered as she touched her glass to his. She took a sip of her wine and smiled. She said, "You really went all out for this."

"For even a chance to see your smile, I would do twice as much," Sid said looking her in the eye.

Cynthia was feeling giddy as a school girl. Embarrassed by the compliment, she giggled and blushed. It took her a moment to get herself under sufficient control to say, "Thank you."

Sid picked up a sandwich and held it out for her to taste. Leaning forward she ate it from his hand. That set the tone for the rest of the lunch. In a slow and leisurely manner, they each fed the other. Cynthia had never known that sharing a meal could be so intimate and erotic.

Sid made sure that they took their time. Eating lasted well over an hour, with frequent pauses for conversation. Most of the conversation consisted of little compliments about the way she looked. In the process, all of the food had been consumed and the bottle of wine emptied.

After lunch, Sid took Cynthia to a local art museum where they spent time going from room to room discussing one painting after another. Outside of a single school trip while in third grade, Cynthia had never really been to an art museum. She found the experience far more fascinating than she would have predicted. Sid asked her opinion about each piece of art. She felt that while she was appreciating the art, he was appreciating her.

They entered a room that was filled with western art. Sid led her over to a rather large painting of a rocky canyon. Pointing to it, he said, "This is my favorite one here."

Looking over the painting, Cynthia could see that it presented a rugged outdoors that was wild and untouched by man. The season was autumn. Trees, stunted by growing in a rocky soil, reached skyward with limbs covered with red and yellow leaves. A small creek with a trickle of water cut through the rocks, bringing life to the plants. With just a little imagination, one could feel that there were animals hidden just out of view. She smiled and said, "I like it. It's rugged and untamed. In a way, it reminds me of your description of Chaos."

"Thank you," Sid said. He shifted his arm so that he was holding her hand. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the back of her hand. In a soft voice, he said, "I'm glad you like it."

The kiss had sent chills down her spine and her legs threatened to give out from under her. She thought to herself, 'Whoever heard of kissing a woman's hand now a days?' Looking over at Sid, she knew the answer to her question. She smiled at him finding that he was looking into her eyes. She almost fell into him, drawn to him by his unwavering gaze.

"It is closing time," said the guard. His interruption broke the spell.

Turning to face the guard, Sid recalled his previous employment as a security guard. He said, "Thank you, sir. You are a lucky man to work surrounded by such beauty."

"Thank you," the guard answered feeling like it was just another job and one that didn't pay as much as he wished.

Patting Cynthia's hand, he added, "But I must count myself even luckier, as I get to leave with this beauty beside me."

The guard smiled and moved on to tell others that the museum was closing. Cynthia was trying to still her beating heart. In a daze, she allowed Sid to escort her to the front of the museum where they collected their coats. Sid helped her put her coat on. By the time she had recovered, Sid was wearing his coat. She said, "I've never been to a museum before."

"Well, now you can say that you've spent an entire afternoon at one. We've been here for almost four hours," Sid said.

After the museum, Sid took her to a small deli for sandwiches. Apologizing, he said, "I fear that we must eat here if we are to make it to the theatre on time."

"Theatre?" Cynthia asked.

"Yes. There's a local production of the Pirates of Penzance tonight. I thought you might enjoy it," Sid answered.

"What is that?"

"It is a musical by Gilbert and Sullivan. It's one of my favorites of their works," answered Sid. His uncle had introduced him to the works of Gilbert and Sullivan, but this was his favorite of them all. He particularly liked the song about a perfectly modern major general.

The couple shared a sandwich and then walked over to a small theatre nearby. Sid presented the tickets and they went in to find their seats after checking their coats. It was a small theatre that seated about a hundred people so the view was good from every seat in the house. After being there for five minutes, the lights dimmed and the production began.

Cynthia had never seen anything like it. She couldn't believe how much more fun it was to watch a play than to watch a movie. Even though it was an amateur production, the acting was reasonably good. The sets left much to the imagination, but that was part of the charm. The jokes were delivered with the appropriate timing and the songs were sung in proper rhythm.

Exiting the theatre, Cynthia was excited about the play. She kept rehashing scenes from it and giggling like crazy. Sid was happy that this date had gone so well. Smiling broadly, he escorted her to his truck. It was getting close to ten and he wanted to get her home at the time he had promised.

It was just a few minutes before ten when he parked the truck in front of her house. Cynthia turned to him wondering what would happen now. In the past, this part of the date usually turned into a wrestling match. Much to her surprise, Sid got out of the car and walked around to her side. After opening the door for her, he helped her out of the truck. He walked her up to the front door. Once there, he held her so that she faced him. He leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss. With her heart hammering in her chest, she grabbed him and kissed him back as hard as she could.

They broke off the kiss. Without any kind of embarrassment, Sid said, "I had a wonderful time today. I hope that you will honor me with another date a week from today at the same time."

"Oh, yes," Cynthia answered with a sigh.

Sid gestured to the door and she opened it. After she had closed the door behind her, she collapsed against it. Her mother had watched the kiss through the window and smiled at the expression on her daughter's face. Although Sid was nearly to his truck, he could clearly hear her mother, in a near scream, ask, "So how was it?"

He couldn't hear Cynthia answer, "Oh, my God. That was the most wonderful day of my life."



-------

Chapter 3


It was a quarter before noon local time (quarter to one Eastern Standard Time) when there was a knock on Sid's front door. Sid looked at the atomic clock with concern. He was supposed to leave for Crossroads in fifteen minutes and didn't want to waste time at the door. Rushing to the front door, he opened it to find Cynthia standing there. She smiled and said, "Hello Sid."

"Hello, Cynthia. What can I do for you?" asked Sid.

"I know that you are leaving for Crossroads in a few minutes and I thought I would see you off," said Cynthia. She smiled although she really wanted to rip into him. Even after their dates, he had not given up that nonsense about Crossroads and Chaos.

"Come in," said Sid holding the door open for her.

She came in and closed the door behind her. Unaware that she didn't believe him, he continued to rush. He took her coat and hung it up in the closet. He said, "Come on into the study. I only have a few minutes before I have to leave."

Amazed that he continued to pursue this fantasy, Cynthia followed him to the study. Once there, he offered her a seat at the desk. Looking at the clock, he said, "I have four minutes. I'm sorry that I can't be a better host, but I really don't have much time."

"That's okay," said Cynthia. She glanced at the clock and thought that in five minutes he'd have to give up his fantasy world.

She watched as he opened the desk drawer and pulled out a Sapphire ring. He slipped it on his finger and stepped over to the closet. Looking back at her, he said, "I'll be back in fifteen minutes. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," replied Cynthia expecting nothing to happen. She watched, wide eyed, as Sid stepped through the portal and disappeared with a shimmer. It reminded her of the teleporters in science fiction movies. Stunned by what she had seen, she said, "Oh my God! He wasn't making it up."

Rushing over to the closet, she looked to see if there was any kind of trick mechanism. There was nothing in the closet except her. The full import of what she had observed came crashing in on her. As if her stomach was on fire, she groaned and said, "There really is a Sally Caretaker. There really are Damsels in Distress. He really is fucking them."

She staggered back to the chair and stared at the floor trying to process what she had just learned. In a way, she felt guilty for not believing him. At the same time, she felt angry that he hadn't convinced her that it was real. Most of all, she was hurt that he was going off to be with other women. She broke down and cried.

Sid stepped through the portal into the small room. The door opened and he spotted Sally waiting for him. The room in which she stood was dark except for a spotlight that cast a soft light over her. She was wearing an ornate loincloth that hung down to her knees and was held up by a silver chain that was around her waist. Other than the loincloth, she was naked. She thrust her breasts forward for him to gaze upon. She was the most erotic sight that Sid had ever seen.

Awed by the sight, Sid said, "You are so beautiful."

"You are alone, my Hero?" asked Sally surprised to find him alone. She wondered where his companion was, having fully expected him to bring her with him. She had even prepared the computer to produce an identical outfit for her.

"She is waiting for me back on Earth," answered Sid as he stepped forward. The ornate loincloth was actually transparent with gold embroidery. With her long black hair, oriental skin, and Caucasian features, she looked like some sort of Egyptian Queen.

At the realization that she would have Sid all to herself, Sally smiled. In a sexy voice, she said, "Come to me, my Hero, and ravish me properly."

Sid followed her to the bedroom entranced by the way her outfit accentuated her walk. Her attire revealed more than it hid, but hid enough to drive him crazy. When they reached the bedroom, she reached down to the belt and, after touching it on the side, her loincloth dropped to the floor. It took Sid considerably longer to get out of his clothes.

Once they were on the bed, Sid did his best to feel every square inch of her body. After he had gently covered all of that territory with his hand, he covered it again with soft light kisses. By the time he was down to kissing the end of her little toe, Sally had come so hard and so often that she didn't resemble a human. Her legs hurt from shaking so much. Her belly was sore from clenching in the midst of orgasms. Her voice was almost gone from screaming so long and so loud.

To pass the time until she recovered, Sid sucked on her toes. When he ran out of toes, he sucked on her fingers, followed by her earlobes, and then her nipples. By the time he reached her nipples, she was once again screaming from continuous orgasms. Deciding that she wasn't excited enough, he moved between her legs and sucked on her lower lips. Her legs locked around his head holding him against her pussy with the effect that she nearly smothered him.

He was gasping for air by the time she relaxed her legs. Her lower region was a swamp from her natural juices. He went to work cleaning her up with long slow licks of his tongue. The effect was to set her off again and all his hard work went for naught as she flooded her lower region with more juices. As he went to lick that up, she croaked, "Enough. You'll kill me."

"I've just gotten started my Caretaker," Sid said brushing a hand over her stomach. Her whole body reacted to his light touch.

Holding a hand out, she cried, "Restorative."

When a glass with the green liquid appeared in her hand, she lifted her head off the bed and swallowed it down. With just enough strength left in her, she threw the glass to the side. It disappeared before it hit the floor. Weakly, she said, "Mount me, my Hero. Fuck me until I die."

Sid mounted her and attempted to do just that. Her orgasms resumed when he entered her. The time spent taking her to that point had also excited Sid close to the point of no return. Rather than hours or minutes, in was less than two minutes before he came. Sally didn't care by that time. She had gone into sexual overload.

It was several hours later that Sid woke to find Sally asleep beside him. She had never moved since he had lifted himself off her. His come was dried to a crust around her lower region. Propping up his head on his hand, he watched her sleep. He memorized her features wanting to never forget the peaceful expression on her face.

Feeling that she was being watched, Sally slowly woke and found Sid watching her. She stretched and said, "Two restoratives, please."

The restoratives appeared on the bed. She grabbed them before they could fall over. Handing one to Sid, she drank one down herself. A shiver went through her body as the magic liquid restored her energy. Smiling, she said, "My Hero."

"My Caretaker," Sid said after drinking his glass of restorative. He reached over to stroke her body.

"Don't touch me, yet. I'm too sensitive," said Sally with a shudder. Just the thought of being touched was sufficient to trigger a little orgasm.

Watching as a blush appeared on her chest, Sid asked, "What?"

"That's from the thought of you touching me."

"Wow."

"My lovely man, no woman in the entire history of Cassandra is as lucky as I. You know how to play my body like it was meant to be played. I am happy for your companion on Earth. She is the luckiest woman on your planet."

Sid said, "We have not done anything yet."

Shocked, Sally sat up and spun to face him. With concern on her face, she asked, "Is she okay? How could she not want to experience such pleasure?"

"It takes us a little longer to get around to that on Earth. Earth women are a lot different from the women of Cassandra."

"Different? How? Do they have tails?"

Sid laughed and shook his head at the image of women with tails. It reminded him of watching her from the rear as her loincloth swayed while walking. He answered, "They don't have tails. They just don't achieve orgasm as quickly as the women of Cassandra. What I did with you might have brought an Earth woman to a single orgasm. We have to make love to their mind for a long time before we even touch their bodies."

"Poor things," Sally said. She couldn't imagine many women surviving the kind of treatment that Sid had performed on her. Tilting her head to the side, she said, "Tell me about her."

"Her name is Cynthia..."

"You told me that last time. What's she like?"

"Why do you want to know?" asked Sid.

Sally blushed as if she had been caught doing something wrong. She answered, "I can't wait to tell everyone back on Cassandra that my Hero has an Earth girl too. They are going to be so jealous that I'm caretaker to such a virile man. It may be your pleasure, but it is my pride!"

Sid shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't imagine that an entire culture of hot horny women existed and that they had nothing better to do than to discuss the sex lives of the Heroes. Sitting up, he said, "You may be surprised to learn this, but I don't believe that I'm that great of a lover. There have been times when I've been with a woman and she hasn't had an orgasm."

"That's horrible. The women on Earth must be like the men on Cassandra. We have to work all day to have them get it up and then... poof... it's gone and we won't see it for another day," Sally sighed. She looked over at Sid and, with a smile, said, "You don't have that problem, my Hero."

"Do you want me to prove it?" asked Sid with a grin. He reached for her and proved that he didn't have that problem.

Later, Sally was wearing the same outfit that she had worn when she greeted Sid. It was a major distraction, but Sid did his best to pay attention as Sally briefed him on the situation in Chaos.

"You'll port to a town that is only a week's ride from the Jones Citadel. When you get there, go to the man who runs the Rooster Inn. You'll recognize it by the sign with a rooster on it. Introduce yourself as Sid Jones and tell him that Gerald Jones is your uncle. He'll give you a medallion. You'll take that medallion over to the bank and give it to the bank manager. He will ask you for your name and a code phrase. Once you answer him, you'll get Gerald's lockbox."

"What's the code phrase?"

"Oh, sorry. It's — Everyone in my family is a bunch of lazy bastards except for my nephew," answered Sally. She laughed at the expression of surprise on Sid's face.

Sid shook his head and grinned as he imagined his uncle saying exactly those words. Even here, his family wouldn't have a very good reputation. He laughed as he said, "You've got to love my Uncle Gerald."

Sally had heard many good things about Gerald. He was among the greatest Heroes of all time, if not the greatest. She said, "You're going to have to take everything out of his lockbox because everything inside will be destroyed when it is closed again. One of the items will be a signet ring. That will identify you as the legitimate heir of the Jones Citadel. You'll take that to Bixby in the Citadel, he was your uncle's right hand man."

"That sounds easy enough," Sid said. He figured that it was going to be a lot more difficult than it sounded. He asked, "Is his signet ring the only ring in his lockbox?"

"I don't know. I'm sure that you'll recognize it when you see it, though."

Sid licked his lips and wondered about that. Disturbed, he said, "I guess I'll have to see. What else will I inherit?"

"Your uncle's balance of forty-six thousand conches will get added to your account."

"So much?" asked Sid shocked at the amount of money. He wondered how his uncle had managed to acquire so much. Shaking his head, he said, "He should have used that money for himself. I don't deserve it."

"It's not that much considering that he acquired it over a lifetime of adventuring. His citadel is worth much more than that. If I'm not mistaken, he's got little caches of money, weapons, and property spread all over Chaos," answered Sally with a smile. She had a very good idea of just how much stuff Gerald had hidden, but she wasn't going to let Sid know. Gerald had wanted him to discover things on his own and she, like any of the caretakers, would respect his wishes.

"I'll try not to use his money," Sid said.

"You'll need at least a thousand conches to buy and equip your army."

"You're kidding? A horse is a conch. Why will I need a thousand conches?"

"Well, let's say that you have an army of a hundred men. It costs two quid a day to hire a regular fighter, one shell a day for a skilled fighter, and two shells for specialists. I'd suggest that you get about sixty regulars, thirty skilled, and ten specialists. Don't forget to include a healer or two. That's a little more than two conches per day as wages for your army.

"Of course, you'll have to feed all of them. That'll run you about three pinches per day per man which is another twenty shells per day. Let's see, you're at two and a half conches a day at this point."

"Two and a half conches per day?" Sid asked.

"That comes to about seventy-five conches per month. You may be in the field for anywhere between one month and a year or more."

Sid listened to her with an open mouth while wondering what else he would have to spend money on. They were still short of a thousand conches. He asked, "Anything else?"

"You'll need to buy some supporting equipment. Wagons, horses, and other supplies will run you another two hundred conches depending on what you get. You'll have to provide weapons for some of the men, that'll run you another fifty conches or so."

"Wagons?"

"You'll need something to carry supplies. You know, things like medicine, food, water, ropes, weapons, blankets, tents, clothes, and cook gear," Sally added.

Sid shook his head and said, "I'm not the right guy to lead an army. I've never given it a thought."

"You'll do fine. Your biggest problem is going to be logistics and you can hire someone to help you with that," Sally replied. She could understand his concern. Most Heroes ultimately ended up leading a small band of men, but it was a slow process by which they grew their troop.

Sitting back, Sid thought about the nature of the war that he was about to join. After a few minutes, he asked, "Are we talking about a war in which army faces army? Or is it a guerilla war?"

"A guerilla war?" she asked unfamiliar with the term.

"A guerilla army is a small highly mobile group that strikes the enemy in a quick engagement and then retreats before the enemy can mount an effective defense."

"Ah, a raider war," Sally replied once she understood what he meant. She was silent for a minute considering his original question. She was tempted to answer that it was more of the latter, but there were problems with that answer. Finally, she said, "The area involved is about the same size as South Dakota. Slaves are on farms that are spread all over the countryside. You won't be fighting an army when you are liberating slaves, but liberating slaves won't end slavery.

"There are over sixty large cities whose major source of income is the slave trade or the products produced by slaves. You'll have to take control of those cities at some point in time. That'll involve army against army."

"I'll have to lay siege to a city?" Sid asked thinking about the impossibility of the task ahead of him.

"Yes. Actually, you'll have to take several cities to end slavery."

Rubbing his face with his hands, he asked, "How much time do I have to prepare?"

"Ten days," Sally answered.

There was too much to learn and too little time. Sid wondered if he was up to the task of leading an army. He wasn't worried for his own safety, only that of the men whom he would be leading. Nothing was more dangerous than an incompetent leader. Looking over at Sally, he said, "Let me see what I'm up against."

Sally brought up a map of Chaos and began pointing out the major locations of interest. She began by identifying the town into which he would port. It was a minor cattle center where cattle from outlying ranches would be bought and sold before driving them to a much larger town a month away where they would be slaughtered for their meat and hide.

She then showed him the location of the citadel. To get to it, he'd be passing a number of cattle ranches. The men working on them would be tough and independent. If there had been any recent cattle thefts in the area, they'd be suspicious of all strangers and he'd have to be careful. It was not unknown for them to act without giving the stranger a chance to explain his presence.

Sid examined the map taking in the natural features of the land. The area in which slavery was being practiced was basically a large rectangular region to the southwest of the Citadel and was slowly spreading. The area was filled with a large flat plain. It was bordered on the northern and eastern sides with rolling hills. The southern and western sides were bordered by a swamp. The geography dictated that the region with slaves spread towards the citadel.

This was going to be a long stay in Chaos. He'd take a day just getting his Uncle's stuff from the bank. Then it would be a week ride to the Citadel. Then he would have to claim the citadel. Even then, he wouldn't have started on the adventure yet. There would be at least a week of meetings with the other heroes before they left to rescue the damsels. It would be a little more than a month's ride to the closest place that practiced slavery. The war would start and he had no idea how long it would take to conquer a region that was a quarter of the size of South Dakota.

He sighed and said, "This is going to be a long trip."

She said, "I know you'll do great."

"I'll miss you," he said.

Sally knew that it wouldn't seem that long to her, but she wasn't going to let him know that. She smiled and said, "I'll miss you."

Sid shook his head and said, "I'll do what I can to come back as quick as possible."

"Don't rush. Every engagement has a time and a place. Rush the time or fight at the wrong place and you'll lose the war. There are times when it is better to retreat than to fight."

Gerald had said the same thing to him many times. He said, "Keep the big picture in mind at all times. The first side that loses the big picture loses the war."

"Your uncle taught you well," Sally said.

Sid woke with Sally snuggled close to him on the overlarge bed that would make a king size bed color with envy. He stared at the ceiling thinking about the adventure on which he was about to embark. For ten days he had military tactics drilled into his head and feared that he had not retained even a fraction of what Sally had taught him. He hoped that it would all come back to him once he stepped through the portal.

His agitation must have conveyed itself to Sally because she woke and stared at him. Rather than greeting him with the typical good morning, she said, "Relax, you'll do fine."

"I'm finding it rather difficult to relax at the moment."

Sally reached down and fondled his cock. When it grew rigid under her fingers, she smiled and said, "Yes, you seem particularly stiff this morning."

"I am now."

Sally laughed and climbed atop him, taking an initiative in how they made love that she had never taken before with him. She used him in the manner that women of Cassandra used the men of Cassandra. Each movement was designed to trigger an orgasm as quickly as possible, but it didn't take her long to lose control. The men of Cassandra were not able to sustain an erection for more than a minute.

Orgasm after orgasm washed through her body. Sid was just along for the ride, watching in amazement as she pleasured herself. When she passed out, he was far from reaching a climax. He rolled over; taking her with him so that she was beneath him. He thrust into her until he came with a roar. He slipped off her.

He was then left with the problem that he needed to go to the restroom, but she was unconscious. With his bladder full, he stood up and walked around the room hoping that the motion would relieve some of the discomfort he was experiencing. To his surprise, a small door opened to a bathroom complete with a urinal. The presence of the urinal was a surprise as it was the first gender specific item he had seen in the apartment.

As he pissed, he wondered about the fact that it was the first time that apartment had responded to his need without involving Sally. He muttered, "It's good to know that whatever controls this apartment will step in when she's unable to function."

"It sure would be nice if this apartment could talk," he commented while shaking the last drop off his cock. The sudden flushing of the urinal took him by surprise and he stepped back. Laughing, he said, "Actions talk louder than words."

After washing his hands, he returned to the bedroom and watched Sally Caretaker sleep. He knew that his time with her was limited and that soon he'd be heading to Chaos. It was with mixed feelings that he considered his departure. It would be as long as a year of subjective time before he would be able to enjoy being with Sally once he left.

His desire to stay was countered by thoughts of the adventure. He mentally reviewed the descriptions of the Damsels who had been enslaved. Every one of them was a beautiful woman and he doubted they would be used as field slaves. There was nothing nice about the experiences to which they would be subjected as house slaves. Brain numbing work, rape, and beatings were all possibilities. It could take as long as a year to rescue them. The idea that they would be miserable for such a long period of time was disturbing.

It was an hour before Sally woke. Looking over at Sid, she saw the introspective expression on his face. She knew he was going over their plans for the upcoming adventure in his mind, searching for any items that he may have missed about what to expect. It pleased her to know that he was doing everything in his power to return alive and successful.

Growing up as a young girl, she had this image of swashbuckling Heroes charging blindly into danger. The reality was just the opposite. She had learned that Heroes spent years training, worked with complete dedication in planning, and were patient in executing those plans. Heroes who survived adventures were not only strong, but they were smart. The ability to imagine all of the things that could go wrong and to come up with ways to counter them was critical for the survival of a Hero.

Sid noticed Sally watching him. He smiled and asked, "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, I was just thinking how lucky I am."



-------

Chapter 4


Copyright©

Sid stepped through the portal into a small wood paneled room in Chaos. The hole in the wall that allowed him to retrieve his storage box was in the normal space. He put his finger in it and waited for his storage box to appear. Every time he did that, his mind flashed on an image of inserting his finger in a hole attached to an attractive young woman. This time it was no different.

There was a slight noise and the box was on the table. He opened it and examined the small collection of weapons inside. There was the older sword that he had taken from one of the hoodlums, the set of knives from the Surgeon, and his staff. It wasn't much, but this was his third adventure and he had started with nothing.

Recalling that the knives were poisoned, he carefully lifted them out of the box and set them to the side. He grabbed his staff and examined it carefully. It was in just as good of shape as the day he had placed it in the box. Satisfied with his choice of the staff, he returned the knives to the box before closing it. He watched as it disappeared. It was time to get his inheritance.

Stepping out of the bank, the odor of unwashed humanity assaulted his nose. It always surprised him how filthy the air was in a non- technological environment. He knew that in a day or two he wouldn't notice it while in town, but entering a new town after being in the country for a couple of days it was always the same shock to the nose. He wondered how environmentalists who sang the virtues of the purity of the past would react to the filth and odors of ancient cities. Undoubtedly they would be disappointed that the modern world was much cleaner than the ancient world.

He looked up and down the patch of dirt that passed for Main Street in this town. He spotted a likely candidate for an inn, but the sign in front was of a fish and not a rooster. The street was crowded and he stopped one of the men walking past by asking, "Could you tell me where the Rooster Inn is located?"

"Rooster Inn?" the man mused for a moment while examining Sid carefully. The kind of folks that stayed at the Rooster Inn were a mixed lot. Adventurers, traders, assassins and the kind of men who hired the others were known to visit the place. After an unpleasantly long pause, he said, "Next street over."

"Thanks," Sid said. His thanks were almost too late as the man had started on his way again.

Stepping into the dusty street, Sid made his way towards the next street over. While walking, he overheard snatches of conversation about slave traders, entire towns disappearing, and predictions of doom. Considering that the news was about events that were more than five weeks ride from the town, the people seemed quite excited and concerned.

It took Sid five minutes to locate the Rooster Inn. It was a small inn that appeared to be much better maintained than the buildings on either side. He knew that if his uncle had anything to do with the inn that it would be well maintained. He entered and found that the interior was in even better shape than he had expected.

Hard looking men were seated in groups of two and three at tables talking in the low hushed tones of men wanting to communicate, but not wanting the whole world to know what they were talking about. His entrance caused everyone to look him over, but none of the examinations lasted long enough to provoke insult. Sid was impressed.

He walked over to the counter and examined the man behind the counter. The man was seated on a high chair placed where he could watch the entire common room without having to stand. The need for the chair was obvious. His left leg ended below the knee and a wooden peg was fixed to the stump. Based on the other scars, it was easy to see that the leg had been lost in a fight. Sid nodded to the man and asked, "Are you the owner?"

"Yes," answered the man.

"My name is Sid Jones and I was told to come here."

The man's face went through a series of expressions; one emotion replacing another in rapid sequence. He had dreaded this day for years. He asked, "Are you related to Gerald?"

"He was my uncle."

"Was?"

"Yes. He passed away."

The man sized up Sid and said, "I'm sure your family is saddened by his passing."

"Saddened? They were overjoyed. The bastards came out of the woodwork hoping to get their share of his money. My family is a bunch of no good lazy bastards. The only exception was my uncle," Sid replied. The anger in his voice was unmistakable.

"The name's Chuck, but after I lost my leg your uncle always called me Stumpy." He twisted in his chair and called out, "Barson, get out here and watch the bar."

Sid noticed that the shout got the attention of a large number of the men in the common room. A younger man came out from the kitchen. It was easy to tell that he was Chuck's son. He had the same hair color, eyes, and mouth as his father. He wasn't nearly as strong looking, but carried himself with a confidence that spoke of some training. Chuck said, "He's my boy."

"Nice looking young man."

Chuck smiled and nodded his head towards the door at the end of the bar. He said, "Come on back. We've got to talk."

Sid followed the man behind the counter and into a private room. There was a small table and two chairs in the room. Sid knew it was rare for a man to have a private office in Chaos. Chuck pointed to a chair and said, "Have a seat."

"Thanks."

"I take it you are the nephew that he liked."

"I guess you could put it like that. I loved my uncle more than any other member of my family. I was the only one he would even talk with."

Chuck walked over to a shelf. His steps, awkward because of the wooden leg, made a click when the wood of his peg leg hit the wood of the floor. At the shelf, he reached into a pewter mug and pulled forth a medal on a golden chain. He tossed it to Sid and said, "Here is the key to your inheritance."

Sid caught the medal and looked at it. Much to his surprise, it was his image that had been imprinted on the medal. Choked up with emotion, he said, "I really miss him."

Chuck looked at him from across the small room for a half a minute as Sid came to grips with the image on the medal. In a soft voice, he said, "Your uncle really loved you. He used to tell me about how you trained and served in the military despite how the rest of your family felt about the matter. He said that you were the only one in the family who understood honor and duty. Coming from him, that's a great compliment."

"He taught me all that I know," Sid said. Shaking his head, he added, "All the good things I know. My family taught me a lot about the ugliness of human character."

Chuck walked the few steps to the empty chair and sat down. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to the citadel to meet some men and then going off to rescue some friends that are held in the south."

Chuck fiddled with his peg leg for a moment as he considered Sid's answer. After a minute, he said, "I've got a request to make of you."

"Anything," Sid said knowing that any man who his uncle trusted was a good man.

"Take my son with you on this adventure. He needs to get out there and see the world before taking over for me," Chuck said.

"I'd be pleased to take your son with me. However, I've got to warn you that I'm not very experienced. We'd be learning things together and that could increase the danger for your son," Sid said realizing the significant amount of trust the other man was putting into him.

Chuck chuckled and then said, "You're so much like your uncle. He'd always warn someone that things might not work out the way they wanted. There are always surprises in life, but your uncle always made sure that folks knew that."

"I just didn't want there to be any misunderstandings," Sid explained.

"Young men need to adventure together. It forms bonds that will last a lifetime. It gives them a chance to develop a common character and sense of values. It gives them memories that they will cherish when they get old and homebound."

"I never thought about it like that," Sid said.

Chuck was silent for a moment and then said, "One of the things about adventuring with another is that it gives you quiet times in which to ponder things. Sitting up at night on guard duty under the stars makes you think about your place in the universe. Tending a wounded companion gives you time to come to grips with your own mortality.

"Yes, adventuring with another of your own age is a very good thing. Neither one of you are inexperienced enough that you need a mentor to go along with you. Both of you need more experience taking care of yourselves and others. This will be good for both of you."

Sid had listened with a thoughtful expression. Traveling with Barson would be good. He'd have a chance to get to know the young man before growing his army. At that point, he decided that Chuck didn't know what adventure he was embarking upon. He said, "I'm going after the slavers and that's going to be very dangerous."

Chuck was silent for a moment. A smile slowly spread over his face as he thought about it. Nodding his head, he said, "That will be a grand adventure for the two of you. I assume you are going to be building an army."

"Yes."

"Excellent. You'll find that Barson will be a good help in logistics. He knows what men need to stay healthy on a campaign. You can't run an inn without knowing how much food, water, and other things that are essential for folks to live. He knows how to get good quantity and quality for the dollar. I wouldn't put him in charge, but I'd listen to his advice. You'll need someone with more experience than he has to be in charge of logistics."

"To be honest, I've been worried about that."

"Your uncle has some good people at his citadel. Take as many of them with you as are willing to go. They know their jobs."

"Thanks for the advice," Sid said feeling grateful to the older man. "I'll do my best to surround myself with experienced men."

Chuck studied Sid for a moment. He could tell that the young man was listening with the kind of attention that let him know the young man was carefully considering every word spoken. Gerald had always listened to advice, but made his own decisions. Gerald had always taken responsibility for his decisions. He was sure that Sid was of the same cut of cloth. He said, "I'm sure you will."

Standing up, Chuck said, "Let me send Barson in here for you two to get to know each other for a bit."

While Chuck was getting Barson, Sid put the chain around his neck. It was far safer there than in his money bag. Cut purses were everywhere in Chaos. He had just settled it out of sight when Barson entered the room. The young man looked over at Sid with a wary expression. He said, "My dad just said something very surprising."

"What did he say?"

"He said that you were willing to take me on your adventure," Barson said. For more years than he cared to admit, he'd been telling his father that he wanted to go out and see the world. His father had always told him no. Suddenly he tells him that some stranger is willing to take him along with him. It didn't make sense.

"Actually, he asked me to take you on this adventure and I agreed to do it."

The young man sat down and stared at Sid. The suggestion that his father would actually ask Sid to take him along was incredible. Frowning, he asked, "Why would he do that? He's been keeping me around here for so long that I had given up all hope of ever going on an adventure."

"I'd say it is because he and my uncle went on an adventure or two together and he wanted you to have a similar experience."

"Who's your uncle?"

"Gerald Jones."

"Ah, that does explain it," replied Barson. He knew how his father felt about Gerald. All of his stories involved adventures undertaken with Gerald. Now he was going to go adventuring with Gerald's nephew. Extending his hand, he said, "My name is Barson."

Sid accepted the hand and gave the young man a firm handshake. Looking the other man in the eye, he said, "My name is Sid Jones."

The exchange of names seemed to energize Barson as a rush of excitement spread through his body. Barely able to stay in his chair, he asked, "So when do we go?"

"Tomorrow, at the earliest. I've got to get my uncle's stuff from the bank, get a horse, and get outfitted for the trip to the citadel."

Nodding his head as he considered the information, Barson said, "I'll take care of outfitting us for the trip. I've got a pack horse, so don't worry about that. You'll need to select your own horse. I recommend that you go to the stable on the north end of town."

"I'll do that. I'll let you know what else I need when I've finished over at the bank."

"You'll be staying in the single guestroom until we go," Barson said. His mind was racing from topic to topic as he tried to consider all of the things that needed to be done before they could leave. He knew that he'd have to get food for the two of them. Then he'd have to get his camping gear together and go over what Sid had. Unable to contain his emotions any more he shouted, "I'm getting out of here!"

Sid laughed at the excitement of the young man. He figured the guy was two years younger than him, but there was enough difference in experience for it to seem more like five years. Sitting back in his chair, he said, "You sound excited."

"I've dreamed for years about seeing far-away lands. The farthest I've been from here is the Jones Citadel. I want to see a real tall mountain. You know, one of them that has snow on it even in the middle of summer. I want to smell the stench of a swamp and see one of those alligators. I'd like to see a lake. You know, one of those bodies of water that is so large that you can't see the land that's on the other side. I'd even like to see the sea and taste the salty water."

Seeing the look of concern on Sid's face, he said, "I know it's not going to be pleasant. My dad has told me about how bad life on an adventure can be. There will be a few good times, but most of it will be periods of boredom broken by moments of terror and bouts of misery. We'll spend time hungry, cold, tired, hurt, hot, and dirty. We could die out there and no one would know.

"You don't have to worry about me being able to defend myself. Being a barman can be a dangerous occupation. Lots of men get mean when they get drunk. It's the barman who puts them out. While dad says that a good sucker punch is better than five years of training, he's made sure that I had fifteen years of training anyway.

"The training he's given me is much more than most lads my age ever get. He's taught me the bow, the sword, the knife, the staff, and unarmed combat. Some of what he's taught me was taught to him by Gerald. Of course, we can't forget the barman's best friend, the sap."

Sid was surprised by the litany of weapons that Chuck had chosen to teach Barson. Most men in Chaos knew one weapon well and had passing acquaintance with one or two others. He said, "I'm impressed. Your dad has given you a great gift."

"He didn't want me losing a leg like he did." Barson was quiet for a moment and then asked, "What weapons did Gerald train you to use?"

"Unarmed combat, staff, sword, bow, knife, mace, and axe," Sid answered. The army had taught him a number of skills, but few that he could use in Chaos. That didn't matter since his uncle had been thorough in training him. What his uncle couldn't teach him, he found the best men possible to train him. His uncle had also taught him all about setting and locating traps. He missed those sessions with his uncle. He sighed and added, "He also taught me about the construction and use of siege weapons."

"I'm sure that he was thorough in his training."

"My uncle believed that preparation is the key to success. From what I've observed, your father believes the same."

Barson nodded his head and then said, "You better get over to the bank and take care of your business there."

As Sid walked out of the bar, he heard Chuck say to Barson, "He's going to have some stuff to learn from you. Don't let that go to your head. You pay attention and learn from him. He's got a lot that he can teach you if you keep an open mind."

As Sid walked across the street, he thought about the words of wisdom passed from father to son. Those words were worth their weight in gold for him as well. There had been a moment there where he had started to feel a twinge of superiority to the younger man. Only a fool would allow those kinds of feelings to interfere with learning a skill that might allow him to survive.

It took Sid a couple of minutes to return to the bank. Walking up to the counter, he said, "I need to speak to the manager of this branch."

The clerk looked in the general direction of Sid without taking in the details. His gaze rested on the simple staff he was carrying. The leather that wrapped the ends of the staff identified it as home made. Deciding that he'd rather not interrupt his manager, the clerk chose to ignore him and looked down at the counter.

Sid growled, "Get the manager now."

Flippant and without looking up at Sid, the clerk asked, "And what will you do if I don't?"

"You'll be shitting splinters for a year after I shove my staff up your ass," Sid said. His voice was cold enough to create ice in the Sahara Desert.

The clerk looked up at Sid and caught the look in his eye. A chill went down his spine when he saw the fire ready to flare up. Clearing his throat, he said, "Wait here a minute."

Sid watched him walk off. The manager came rushing to the counter after a minute had passed. Sid smiled at the way in which the man nearly tripped over himself getting out of his office. Removing the medal from around his neck, Sid said, "My Uncle Gerald passed away and left me this to claim my inheritance that is stored in this bank."

The bank manager took the medal and dropped it into the slot. Looking over at Sid, he said, "Put your finger in the hole."

Once Sid had done as requested, the manager asked, "What is the pass phrase?"

"Everyone in my family is a bunch of lazy bastards except for my nephew."

The manager nodded his head and said, "The magic says your uncle is dead and that you are his true heir. Your uncle has a balance of forty-six thousand, eight hundred and thirty eight conches, one shell, and three pinches. That amount has been transferred to your account. Would you like any of it?"

"A thousand conches," Sid replied.

The manager looked flustered for a moment and then asked, "Do you have something to carry that many coins in?"

"No, I don't," answered Sid as he stared in the well that had filled with a thousand conches.

The manager looked over at the teller and said, "Get a money bag — one of the large ones."

It took a minute for the clerk to return with a money bag. As the clerk filled the bag, the manager asked, "Do you need a body guard?"

"No," Sid answered with a smile. Even if he had wanted one, he wouldn't trust him with that kind of money. It was enough to last a lifetime.

The clerk looked over at the staff and shook his head wondering if there was more to the staff than met the eye. After dropping the last two conches in the bag, he set it on the counter and said, "Here it is."

Sid picked up the bag and noted that it weighed a significant amount. This was one of the problems with a cash only economy that he hadn't anticipated. Money was heavy. He said, "Let's take care of the box."

The manager said, "Go in one of the double rooms and stick your finger in the hole. Both of the containers will appear. Clear everything out of your uncle's container because when you close the lid everything within it will be destroyed."

Sid went into one of the double rooms. It was like a single room except there was a table on each side of the room rather than on one side. There was a hole over each table. He put his finger into one of the holes. Two containers appeared on the tables. Unable to tell them apart, he opened one and found it to be his container. Lifting the lid of the second container, he was shocked at how much stuff was packed into it.

His eyes widened as he looked at the top item. It was a money belt lying atop a padded shirt that was intended to be worn under chain mail. Picking up the money belt, he opened it and found that it contained a few coins along with a ring. He took off his shirt and fastened the money belt around his waist. For now, he'd leave the ring in the belt and wouldn't remove it until he reached the citadel.

He lifted the padded shirt out of the box and caught his first sight of the chain mail shirt. It was an exceptionally high quality shirt with very fine links that would resist even the hardest thrust of a sword. He ran his hand over the chain mail appreciating the way the links seemed to flow like a liquid. Considering the rarity of iron in Chaos, he knew that it was worth more than a thousand conches.

He was about to put on the padded shirt when he noticed that the inside was filled with little pockets just the right size for a conch. Grinning, he settled on the floor and started putting conches in each of the little pockets. It accepted two hundred and fifty of them. His heavy bag was now much lighter. He put on the padded shirt and found that it distributed the weight evenly and comfortably.

He put on the chain mail and then his leather shirt over it. The shirt now fit tight, but he knew that after wearing it for a couple of days that it would stretch and be comfortable. He reached into the box and withdrew one of the finest swords that he'd ever seen in his life. It was a hand and a half sword. The buckler beneath it had the sheath. He put on the buckler finding that he had to tighten it a little more than past wear indicated. When he found the gauntlets, he had to loosen the buckler to make room for them.

Inside the container were more swords, a bunch of knives (he took two of them), a bow, a quiver of arrows, a battle ax, a mace, a morning star, and a whip. Undecided about whether he would take it or not, he kept the bow and the quiver of arrows off to the side. When he found a crossbow, he put the bow and quiver of arrows into his container deciding that he'd prefer the crossbow despite the fact that it weighed more.

In addition to weapons, the box contained a saddlebag loaded with typical field gear including a fire starter kit, sewing kit, and some medicine. There was a small notebook in the saddlebag. He added some of the money from the money bag into the saddle bag. He figured the money bag contained about three hundred and fifty conch. He set the saddlebag next to the crossbow.

He pulled a saddle out of the container. It was a simple saddle complete with stirrups. He was relieved to see the stirrups since he wasn't sure if they were used on Chaos. He did notice there wasn't a saddle horn. Taking note of the bedroll tied to the back of the saddle, he set it on the floor next to the rest of the gear and began to wonder how he was going to carry everything with him when he left the bank.

There was a second saddle in the container. It was a pack saddle and was fully loaded with camp gear. The thing was incredibly heavy as it held pots, pans, plates, and cups. Knowing that Barson was taking care of the camp gear, he put the pack saddle in his container.

It took another hour to transfer items from his uncle's container into his. There was jewelry, money purses, and other little trinkets that his uncle would have picked up on his travels. He paused to examine each item, amazed at the quality of each. There were a few carvings of animals in exotic woods and he wondered if his uncle whiled away his time around the campfire carving them. His uncle had never done that on earth, but that didn't mean he never did it here. He was sure there was a story behind the carvings and wondered if he'd ever learn of it.

At the very bottom of the container were a couple of sheets of paper and a small book. He picked up the book and saw that it was a journal much like he had found in the vault at home. He slipped it into the saddlebag and turned to examine the papers. They were charcoal rubbings of what looked like a map. He debated putting them in the saddlebag, but decided since they were at the bottom of the container that they'd been there for a long while. He decided that it would be best to study them at a later time.

Although he knew it was irrational, he checked the empty container for a false bottom or side. Convinced that it was empty, he closed the lid. The entire thing disappeared with a sharp crack as the vacuum created by its absence was filled with air. He turned to close his container, but held off until he double checked the goods he was taking with him. A minute wasted now might prevent days of hardship later. Finally satisfied with what he was taking with him, he closed the lid.

Sid emerged from the double room a transformed character. Going in, he had looked tough. Leaving, he looked every bit as dangerous as he was. It wasn't as if he had put on a costume, but had dressed in a fashion that reflected the inner man. With his saddle carried over a shoulder and the crossbow carried in his other hand, he strode through the lobby of the bank and out the door like a force of nature.



-------

Chapter 5


It only took three days on the road for Sid and Barson to work out a division of camp duties that each found acceptable. Their days started early with a cold breakfast. The cold breakfast allowed them to hit the trail only minutes after sunrise. After four hours of riding, they would break for a short lunch. After lunch, they'd ride until an hour before sunset while taking turns napping in the saddle. After Sid gathered wood and started a fire, Barson prepared a hot meal. While the dinner cooked, they would spar. Each night they used a different weapon. After dinner it would be dark.

They'd clean up camp and then each man would take a half night shift as lookout.

It was the afternoon of the fourth day when Barson, in a low voice, said, "We've got trouble heading our way."

Sid snapped awake with his hand going directly to his sword while his eyes sought out the threat. They were on a hill overlooking a herd of cattle and six men were riding hard in their direction.

Rather than draw the sword, he kept his hand on it so that he could react without presenting an immediate threat. He said, "I see six, are there more?"

Barson had been so focused on the six men approaching that he hadn't thought to check for a trap. He looked around to check that no one was approaching from the rear. The visibility was good and he could not see anyone coming up behind them. He answered,

"No."

Sid pulled on the reigns and brought his horse to a stop. He said,

"Let's make them come to us."

"Good idea," Barson said as he came to a stop. He waited while Sid brought his horse to his side. Sid left enough room between them so that their swords would not interfere with each other.

The approaching riders slowed down and approached at walk.

When they were close enough to make out individual features, Barson said, "Relax, I know them."

The oldest rider and a young rider who appeared to be his son took the center. Two riders split off to the sides in a move intended to flank Sid and Barson. Watching the action, Barson shouted, "Hello Gustov. Hello Olaf."

The oldest rider made a gesture and the other four riders dropped back behind him. He shouted back, "Ah, Barson. What are you doing out here?"

"I'm going to the Jones Citadel."

The riders stopped about ten feet away. Gustov, the oldest man, looked over a Sid with narrowed eyes. He saw that Sid had not taken his hand off his sword. Watching Sid, he asked, "Who's your intense looking friend?"

"I'm Sid Jones."

All of the men sat back on their horses with looks of surprise. In a manner that straddled being a question and a statement, Gustov said, "You are the nephew of Gerald."

"Yes."

"I can see that you are of a similar manner. He's a good man, your Uncle."

Nodding, Sid said, "Yes, he was."

Gustov didn't react to the use of the past tense. He said, "I take it you're going to the citadel to claim your holding."

"Yes, I am."

Wondering if Sid was the kind of man that would sit back and live off the legacy of his uncle, Gustov asked, "Then what?"

Barson answered, "We are heading south to see what's going on down there."

Surprised, Olaf asked, "Your father gave you permission to take on the slavers?"

"Yes he did."

"Lucky guy." Olaf's comment earned him a quick glare from his father.

"Yeah. It was his idea," Barson said.

Gustov looked at Sid taking the measure of the man with his eyes.

Deciding that he liked what he saw, he asked, "How long will you be at the citadel?"

"A month," Sid answered.

"Olaf will come by and ask if he can join you. If you choose to take him, he has my permission to go," Gustov said. As Olaf stared at his father, the older man turned his horse and said, "Let's get back to the cattle men."

Olaf stared at his father's back in shock. The look on his strong featured face broadcast his disbelief. Turning to Barson, he asked,

"Did he just say I could join you?"

"More or less," Sid answered with a curt nod of his head. It struck him odd that so many men were willing to send their sons on an adventure with him. He asked, "Did your father, Chuck, and Gerald ride together?"

Olaf nodded and said, "Yes. They were at the siege of Robert's Keep."

"That's where my dad lost his leg," Barson said.

Gesturing in Gustov's direction, Sid said, "I think he's getting tired of waiting for you."

Olaf grinned and turned his horse. As he rode away, he shouted,

"I'll be at the citadel as soon as possible."

"We'll be looking for you," Sid shouted back. He settled in his saddle and, turning to Barson, said, "Looks like we're collecting a troop."

"It sure does. You'll like Olaf. He's a cheerful fellow and always ready with a joke. He loves the ladies and they love him. Nobody is better at setting up a camp than him."

It was a couple of days later when the two young men approached the gates of the citadel. A guard at the gate stopped them by holding up his hand in the universal gesture to stop. Sid and Barson reigned in their horses and waited for the guard. The man walked over and asked, "What is your business here?"

Sid looked at the walls of the citadel. Two guards were in gate houses watching the exchange. Another two men were on the wall watching over the gate. He answered, "I'm here to meet with Bixby."

"What is your business with Bixby?"

Frowning at the intrusive question, Sid answered, "That's between Bixby and me."

It was the guard's turn to frown. He turned to the gate and shouted,

"Says he's here to meet with Bixby. Someone get Bixby."

A man from atop the wall left his position. Shaking his head at the sight, Sid couldn't believe that his uncle would let things be run in such a slipshod manner. He said, "One of the men from the guardhouse should have gone."

"Why?" the guard asked while studying Sid intently.

"You've got two of us down here. If we were not friendly, your guards at the gate house would have to deal with us on the ground where we can attack with advantage from horseback. We wouldn't be able to get to the men on the wall without getting through the gate and then climbing the wall. Having two men up there gives you a much greater advantage."

The guard shook his head and said, "You're just like your uncle.

The last time I did that he dressed me down something horrible."

Sid stared at the guard in confusion. With the surprise evident in his voice, he asked, "You know who I am?"

"Olaf showed up last night asking for you."

Upon hearing his name, a blond head appeared at the wall and he waved to Sid and Barson. His wide grin was visible even from the distance. He shouted down, "Hello, Barson. Hello, Sid."

Sid could understand how Olaf had arrived before them. He and Barson had ridden around the citadel checking it out from all sides.

There were two gates, one at each end of the town. Guard towers spaced along the wall and clear fields outside the walls assured that it would be difficult for a force of men to take them by surprise.

From the outside, it appeared to be a well designed fortification.

Sid shook his head and said, "I guess checking the security of the citadel should have taken a backseat to meeting Bixby. I hope the man isn't irritated."

"I'm not. After Olaf told me you were coming, I watched you ride around the citadel this morning. That was the kind of thing your uncle would have done. He'd check things out before people could try to pull the wool over his eyes," Bixby answered with a smile.

When Olaf had told him that Gerald's nephew was coming to claim the citadel, he had been worried. Even in the best of families, sons seldom took the same degree of care of their inheritance as the fathers had taken in acquiring it. He had been relieved to watch Sid circle the city, pausing at places to study the walls from a safe distance.

Barson listened to the exchange with interest. He had recognized Bixby right away and had wondered why the man had behaved in the manner he had. Once he had realized that Bixby was testing Sid, he fought back the urge to let Sid know what was happening.

He hadn't realized that the trip around the citadel was Sid's way of testing Bixby.

Sid leaned forward and offered his hand. He said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bixby. I'm Sid Jones."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sid. Let's go to the town hall and talk," Bixby said as he turned towards the gate. He led the two men to the center of town. Before they had gone a block, Olaf was walking beside them with a grin on his face. He had appreciated the little joke played on Sid.

As he walked beside Bixby leading his horse, Sid studied the city.

A single street connected the two gates. He noticed that giant gates were hung at each intersection. It took him a moment to realize what the intended purpose of the gates was. The buildings along the street were designed as a trap for any kind of force that might get through the main gates. He looked at the shopkeepers and could tell that each was a veteran of some campaign by the scars and missing limbs. He knew those men could fight and would fight with a great ferocity if the citadel were ever attacked. He commented, "It looks to me like each of the men here has campaign experiences."

"Noticed that, did you?"

"I have to say that I'm impressed by the defenses. This street is a killing field. Any army that got in through the gate would find themselves in a rough position."

Bixby shook his head and said, "I hope that we don't need them, but I fear that we may. This slavery thing is looking very ugly. An entire town was taken less than four weeks ride from here."

"That's why I'm here."

Stopping in the middle of the street, Bixby stared at Sid. He asked,

"This wouldn't happen to be the reason why Malcolm Chambers, Colonel Lee, and Danny Sun are sitting around in the Thieves Den?"

"I'm supposed to meet them at the Two Fish Inn."

"The Thieves Den is our nickname for the place," Bixby said.

Turning to Olaf and Barson, he said, "Why don't you two head over to the Two Fish Inn? I'll bring Sid over there when we are done with our discussions."

Turning to Sid, Barson asked, "Is that alright with you?"

"Sure. I don't know how long we'll be. I imagine there is a lot for me to learn about the citadel."

Olaf said, "I'll take your horse over to the stable for you and get your gear into a room at the Two Fish Inn."

Sid handed the reigns over to Olaf and said, "Thanks. I appreciate it. I'll be over there when I'm done talking with Bixby."

After a short walk, Sid found himself at the center of town. This was clearly the public area. The town hall occupied one corner, an open market occupied another corner, a large park with a public well occupied the third corner, and a barracks occupied the last.

The entire area was very crowded with most of the people in the market. A few people were lounging in the park as if resting for a bit before returning to the market.

Sid followed Bixby into the town hall and then to a large meeting room just off the entrance. To one side was a table on which was carved a map of Chaos. Examining the table, Sid realized that he could create a paper map just by rubbing a piece of charcoal over a sheet of paper placed on the table. Nodding his head, he said, "Let me guess. This was my uncle's idea."

"Yes. He collected maps from every place he went. He had the table constructed based on those maps. You'll notice that the tabletop is divided into sections. Each section can be removed and replaced by an updated map of that area. As far as I know, this is the most accurate map of Chaos," Bixby said while pointing out the various features of the map.

The idea was brilliant and Sid couldn't help but appreciate his uncle's mind for detail. He smiled and said, "This must have been one of my Uncle's most favorite things."

Bixby said, "This was Gerald's war room. All of his campaigns were planned in this room. Those books over there contain all that is known about the different regions of the country. They contain information about everything from the plants and animals to the customs of the local people."

"The informed man will defeat the ignorant man every time," Sid said.

"You sounded just like Gerald there," Bixby said as he moved to the other large table in the room. Taking a seat, he said, "It is time for me to see his signet ring and then I will turn over the Citadel to you."

Sid walked over to Bixby and held out the signet ring for the other man to examine. Bixby didn't need to look at it very long. He recognized the ring since he had been the man to create it. A small frown crossed his face as the reality of his loss was confirmed. His best friend was indeed gone. In a sad voice, he said, "The citadel is yours."

"I'd like you to remain in your current role," Sid said knowing that his Uncle had entrusted the citadel to the other man.

"You don't even know me. Why would you trust me to act on your behalf?"

Looking over at the other man, Sid answered, "I know that I can trust you. My Uncle trusted you and I can think of no better proof of your character."

The statement was as shocking as a bucket of cold water dumped on a sleeping man. Bixby stared at Sid without knowing how to answer. Never had anyone voiced such absolute trust in him based on the word of another man. His throat was tight as emotions fought to emerge. His mouth worked, but no words came forth. It took almost a full minute before he said, "Thank you. You will not be disappointed."

"I know," Sid said as he took a seat. He had watched the emotions flash across the man's face and knew how deeply his words had touched the other man.

Bixby stared at the table for several seconds and then said, "Let me tell you about the citadel. Over six hundred people live here. There are over a hundred businesses within the walls and forty outlying farms that provide food. You own every building and all land within a day's ride from here. Everyone pays rent. Caravans pay a fee to pass through your lands. From the moneys you collect, you pay for normal repairs and the guard. After all is said and done, you have a little less than two hundred and fifty conches a year income from the keep."

Sid sat back and considered the amount of money. It was a considerable sum. After a moment's thought, he said, "I'd like that money reinvested into improvements with a small reserve in case of an emergency."

The suggestion echoed words that Gerald had told him years earlier. Relieved that he could continue his program of continued improvements to the citadel, Bixby said, "That has been past practice. I'm glad that you want it to continue."

"Good. I assume that you'll introduce me to those who live here so that we will not be strangers to each other."

"I will arrange for the heads of households to come to meet you in the great hall tomorrow," Bixby replied with obvious relief in his voice. He had worried about this day for years. He had worked to build this Citadel with Gerald and had feared that Sid would destroy all that he had struggled to achieve.

"Excellent. What would it cost to host a dinner for all of them?"

"About two conches."

Sid fished around in his coin purse and retrieved two conches.

Handing them over to Bixby, he said, "I'm sure that you know a man who can arrange it for tomorrow night."

Surprised at the ease with which Sid had handed over the coins, Bixby looked at them and said, "There's no need for you to pay. It could come out of the Citadel accounts."

"True, but then it wouldn't be me hosting the dinner, would it?"

Bixby smiled at the question and answered, "No, it wouldn't. If you'll excuse me for a minute, I'll give this task to Peterson to perform."

Sid watched Bixby leave the room. He took a moment to examine the books on the shelves. There were less than two hundred books on the shelf, but he knew that it represented a veritable wealth in this land. He selected one of the books and read the title. It was simply titled, Herbal Medicines. Rather than being printed, each page was filled with hand written notes and illustrations that had been copied from the original notes of some long forgotten herbalist. He had visions of Dark Age monks bent over desks copying books whose contents they barely understood. With the care and reverence that such a valuable tome demanded, he closed the book and placed it back on the shelf.

He turned in time to see an unhappy Bixby enter the room. The man was followed by a short squatty man with close cropped black hair. Bixby said, "Peterson, I'd like you to meet Sid Jones. He's the new master of the Jones Citadel."

Peterson grunted and didn't say a word to Sid. He was reserving judgment concerning Sid. Sid looked at Peterson for a moment and then asked, "You provided logistic support for my Uncle, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Then you are the best man to be found for that job," Sid said with the kind of assurance that had its source in absolute certainty.

"I don't appreciate flattery."

"I wasn't flattering you. I was stating a fact based on my knowledge of my Uncle and how he surrounded himself with the best men to be found. If you provided logistic support for him, then you are the best."

Peterson didn't reply, but shrugged his shoulders. Bixby knew the man well enough to know that Sid had surprised and impressed him. Bixby said, "You'll take care of the arrangements for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Yes," Peterson said and turned away to attend to the matter. He left the room without saying another word.

With a raised eyebrow, Sid watched the man walk away. When he had left the room, Sid said, "I like him. I'm assuming that he wasn't going to work for me until he decided that I was worthy of his approval."

"Right."

"So what do we do now?"

Smiling, Bixby answered, "I'll show you around the citadel and then take you to meet your comrades at the Thieves Den."

The first place the two men visited was Gerald's residence. It was a small place that was next to the town hall. An elderly woman by the name of Sorensdaughter was the caretaker. The appearance of Sid sent her away in tears since it confirmed for her the news of Gerald's death. Although they had never been lovers, she had loved Gerald with her entire heart. He had rescued her from a hard life in hell and given her an easy life in heaven. She owed Gerald everything.

When Bixby had started to go after her, Sid had suggested that they leave her alone so that she could grieve. The small act of kindness impressed Bixby and he readily agreed. The tour then progressed to include a visit to each watch tower and both gates.

As they walked along, Sid asked, "Who did my Uncle use to recruit men for an adventure?"

"That would be Connor. He's got a good eye for honest men and good fighters. Of course, your Uncle always had final approval,"

Bixby said.

"I would appreciate it if you could introduce me to Connor sometime tomorrow before the dinner. I'd like a chance to talk with him and tell him my needs for the upcoming campaign," Sid said.

"What if he won't help you?"

"I'll ask him to recommend someone who would be willing to work with me," Sid answered without missing a beat. He had no doubts that some of his Uncle's old friends would be unwilling to help him until he had proven himself to be worthy of their help.

Bixby looked over at Sid with a blank expression. He said, "And if that individual won't help?"

"I'll ask for the next recommendation. If I can't have the best, then I'll take the second best. If I can't have the second best, then I'll take the third best. I'm not going to start at the bottom and try to work my way up," Sid said.

Pleased to learn that Sid had the same value for good men as Gerald, Bixby nodded and said, "I'll get the word to Connor and see if he responds. He'll be busy getting people together to work in the dinner tomorrow."

"Oh? Where would he go to get people to work there?"

"The sons and daughters of the heads of households will probably get hired. They'll enjoy the extra money and it'll give you a chance to meet the next generation of residents," Bixby said.

"How many people will he hire?"

Bixby was silent for a moment and then said, "About fifty. There will be about ten cooks, twenty assistants for the cooks, and twenty servers."

"Perhaps I should get some money over to Connor."

"Your two conches have covered that expense."

Sid thought about it and decided that he'd tip each person helping with two pinches. It wasn't too much to make him seem frivolous with his money and it wasn't too little to make him look miserly.

He had more than enough pinches in his saddlebag to cover that amount. Barson had recommended that he trade in a number of the conches for lower denomination coins. Having come to that decision, he said, "Good. Now let's get over to the Thieves Den."

Sid followed the other man to a very non-descript inn that was hidden well off the main road through the citadel. It was close to the stables and he could see the horse he had bought in the corral.

The sign in front of the inn showed two fishes arranged to form an X. The fishes reminded him of trout.

It was easy to spot Malcolm Chambers, Colonel Lee, and Danny Sun seated in the public room of the inn. They were the grimmest men in the entire place. He walked over to the table and, as he sat down, said, "I'm Sid Jones. There is nothing that I detest more in this world, or any other world for that matter, than slavery. What are we going to do about it?"



-------

Chapter 6


The great hall was filled with young men, young women, and veteran warriors. They were celebrating their last night at the citadel with a large feast. Row after row of tables were piled with roasted chickens, bread, green beans, and other foods that would be rare once they left on their adventure. It might be a while before they missed those foods, but they would miss them before the adventure was over.

Looking at all of the young man and women gathered together, Sid couldn't help but feel responsible for each one of them. Sid had been surprised when father after father had come to him to volunteer their son for the adventure. He had been shocked when some of those same men had volunteered their daughters for camp duties. His initial thought had been that they were being passed off as camp whores, but he was wise enough not to voice his thoughts.

Later, Connor told him that the women would prepare the meals and serve as nurses.

It had taken some time, but they had whittled two hundred volunteers down to a hundred and ten people. Fifty of the young men had never been on an adventure although all said their fathers had trained them. Having seen the battle scars on their fathers, Sid believed them. Thirty of the men were veterans of at least one campaign, with ten of them holding many years of experience.

Five of the veterans were scouts and would range ahead of the rest of the troop. There were ten specialists including two sappers, two healers, a blacksmith, a siege engineer, two armorers, a vet, and a wagon master. There were ten young men who would drive the eight wagons of supplies and ten young women who would take care of food and nursing.

Peterson and Connor were both coming along on the campaign.

Peterson would be responsible for getting supplies along the way while Connor would help manage the troops. Sid had assigned Barson to act as Peterson's assistant. Barson was happy with that arrangement even though Peterson had done nothing except shrug his shoulders.

Sid turned to Connor and asked, "Will we be ready to leave tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, we're ready to leave. The wagons are loaded, the troops are ready, and the weather is good," Connor answered with a negligent wave of his hand. Sid had come to recognize the wave as the ultimate sign that Connor felt he had everything under control.

When his open hand turned into a fist, then it was a sure sign that things were not going well.

Although they had gone over it several times the past few days, Sid asked, "So we start off slow and then work our way up to a full march?"

"Yes. You have to remember that most of our men haven't ever been on an adventure. Sure they think they're tough, but they've never had to march for a month solid. For the first three days we'll make about three quarters of a day's march each day. That will help toughen up the men for life on the trail and we won't lose any of them. We'll slowly increase the pace so that we make good time."

With the wagons, the women, and the cattle, Sid didn't think they'd be setting a blistering pace regardless of what Connor said.

He'd be surprised if they could set a pace of twenty miles per day.

From the center of the room a bunch of young men started laughing as Olaf did a little dance. Pointing to him, Sid said, "Olaf sure was pleased to be put in charge of the cattle."

"He's the best man for the job," Connor replied with a grin. When he had told Olaf that he was in charge of herding the cattle along with the troops, the big man had picked him up and shouted in joy.

It was very seldom that he had gotten such a reaction when assigning what was normally a dirty task to someone. Peterson had taken the young man with him when he went to purchase the cattle and had been pleased with the young man's eye for quality.

Shaking his head, he said, "This is the most talented group of young men that I've ever put together. We've got Smithson who can help the blacksmith and is darn near a Smithy in his own right.

Taylor is good with a needle and thread. Nyles is good with a hammer and will be a help to our siege engineer and wagon master. That Barson is a jewel in the rough. A few weeks more working with Peterson and he'll be about as good of a logistics support person as I've met."

Sid nodded his agreement. He'd been impressed by the diversity of skills represented in the group of young men. It made sense since they were all sons of adventurers who had been trained by their fathers. He had five groups of fifteen men each who were dedicated fighters. Each group was lead by experienced veterans.

The remaining young men were serving as field apprentices to the specialists. Sid said, "We'll be getting more people to work with us over time. I'm sure that some of the slaves that we release will want to join our fight. I'm sure that by the time we hit one of the large cities we'll have an army of over a thousand people."

"Some? I imagine that all of the men will want to fight and a significant majority of the women as well," Connor said. He knew that after being raped many of the women would be out for blood.

He feared that they would be difficult to control. He added, "You could easily end up with an army of five thousand."

Sid frowned at the idea of leading an army of that size. Looking across the room at the hundred young men and women brought a knot to his stomach. The idea that their lives depended on how well he led them was truly frightening. He said, "We'll have to leave some behind to work on the captured farms to provide us with food."

"Don't worry about that," Peterson said. He was convinced that a good percentage of the freed folks would want to stay and work the land as their own. The chance to start over would be too much for many of those who had been farmers to refuse.

"I'm worried about senior leadership," Sid said gesturing around the room. Explaining what he meant, he added, "When we get to a thousand or more people, we won't have enough experienced leaders to oversee everyone. Only three of our experienced veterans have leadership potential."

"You're right. However, by the time that our army grows to that level, this lot will be experienced. Many of them already have leadership qualities, just not the necessary knowledge. Three months of battles will change the situation a lot."

Sid thought about it. He knew that the three most important ranks were the Private, the Sergeant, and the Colonel. Privates did all of the work, Sergeants directed the Privates, and the Colonels utilized the Sergeants to achieve the objectives set by the Generals. The intermediate ranks served to expand the capabilities of the key ranks. In an army of this technological level, it was just the four ranks that mattered. Sid asked, "Are we still waiting for one more man?"

"Not any longer," replied Connor pointing to a tall aristocratic man who had just entered the hall.

"Masterson?" Peterson asked on spotting the man. The loathing in his voice was clearly obvious.

"Yes, Masterson. He's the best strategist that I know," Connor answered.

"He's an arrogant jerk."

Masterson sauntered to the table at the head of the room, picking up a goblet of watered wine on his way. Stopping in front of Sid, he looked down at the young man with clear disdain. In a condescending voice, he said, "So this is the Jones pup that we're to nursemaid."

In a single smooth motion, Sid drew his sword and had the tip at the man's throat. He had started his move after the man had said the word pup and finished it before the man had said the word nursemaid. Masterson, much to his credit, only spilled a little of his wine in reaction. Attempting a show of bravado, he tried to use his goblet to push the blade out of position while he said, "The pup has a bite."

The fact that he was unsuccessful in budging the blade was not lost on Masterson and a look of real concern crossed his face. In a calm voice, Sid said, "The pup has the point of his blade a conch thickness from your life's blood. He would like an apology or the distance will narrow quickly."

Peterson was grinning while watching the drama unfold. He was hoping that Masterson wouldn't apologize and his disappointment was clear when Masterson said, "I apologize for my rude behavior.

You are quite correct in calling me out on it."

"Your apology is accepted. Have a seat here at the table," Sid said as he returned his sword to its sheath. Once it was sheathed, he sat back in his chair.

Masterson said, "You are clearly of the same stock as Gerald. He didn't tolerate insults either."

"I don't tolerate insults directed at me or those who serve with me," Sid said lightly despite the slight threat involved in his words.

Peterson laughed and patted Sid on the back. The mirth in his voice was obvious when he said, "This is going to be a fun adventure."

Sid looked over at Peterson surprised by the laughter. In all of his dealings with the older man up to that time, the man had been sparse in his words and dour in temperament. He understood the man's attitude. Peterson knew that if he failed in his job, they could lose a war without ever engaging the enemy. Starvation, thirst, and disease could kill troops in much greater numbers than a battle. His first adventure had been one of total misery created by a failure of logistics on the part of another.

The unusual behavior wasn't lost on Masterson and he commented,

"I think this is the first time I've ever seen you happy when getting a good deal on fifty pounds of grain wasn't involved."

"He enjoyed seeing you get put in your place like that almost as much as I did. You might be a brilliant strategist, but you destroy troop morale. Let's see if you can request supplies ahead of time and limit casualties on this campaign," Connor said.

"What do you mean?" Masterson asked indignant at the accusation.

"I mean that you should put some of your strategic thinking into what happens before the engagement and not just on moving men around like so many little markers on a board game," Connor answered.

"I thought you said that he was the best."

Nodding his head, Connor answered, "He is. He can take an army that is outnumbered thirty to one and still win the engagement. The problem is that he'll tell Peterson that he needs a thousand staffs ten minutes before the fight begins. Peterson has to run around like a chicken with its head cut off getting everything together. Even worse, he'll accept more casualties than necessary just to win with style."

Sid examined Masterson as if he were a bug under a glass for a full minute. Turning to Peterson, he asked, "How did my Uncle react the first time that he did that kind of stuff?"

"Take a guess."

"He shot him in the ass with an arrow?"

Connor laughed at the idea, but answered, "After the first time, he assigned Masterson to a unit to fight beside the men. He decided which unit he would assign him to at the last minute. Usually it was the one that stood the least chance of surviving."

Sid smiled and said, "I'll probably do the same thing, but I'll shoot him in the ass with an arrow first. I'll do the same for any man who jeopardizes my men unnecessarily. If someone does it twice, I'll kill him."

Feeling like Sid was being over dramatic, Masterson said, "Big talk."

Eyes flashing, Sid hit the table with his fist. The sound echoed through the room and all eyes turned to stare at him. In a low growl, Sid said, "I had seventy fathers in here telling me to take care of their sons and daughters. Anyone who puts me in a position where I have to look in a father's eyes and tell him that their child died because some asshole threw away his life is going to suffer. I do not kid about things of this seriousness. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Masterson said swallowing heavily.

"Gods, he sounded just like Gerald there," Peterson said.

Looking over at the room of startled faces, Sid shouted, "Do I make myself clear?"

Shouts erupted through the entire room as individuals confirmed that they understood exactly what Sid had said. Standing up and leaning over the table, Sid said, "Comrades in arms, listen to me!

Fighting is dangerous hard work. Do not delude yourself into thinking this is a game. Some of us will not survive this campaign.

Some of us may not return home whole men. That is the nature of armed conflict.

"Our enemy is evil. They are slavers. They view people as little more than animals that they can buy and sell. They will kill you with no more thought than they would kill a chicken. If you are too wounded to work and they capture you, they will kill you. If you are captured, they will turn you into a beast of burden. You will work from sunrise to sunset without break. If you do not work hard enough, they will beat you. You will be fed just enough to keep you alive. They will work you until the day you die.

"I will do my best to get you home, healthy, whole, and a little richer. I ask that you fight hard when it is necessary for us to fight.

I do not ask that you fight to protect me. I remind you that you fight to protect every man and woman who stands beside you in battle. From this day forth, your lives depend on the men who march with you. Let me assure you that you are in good company.

"Eat up and enjoy this evening for we march at dawn tomorrow!"

Sid sat down as the men and women gathered shouted their approval. Peterson looked over at Sid and nodded with approval.

Masterson watched Sid with more respect than he had shown anyone in ages. Connor muttered, "He's so much like his Uncle."

They had been marching for three weeks. Sid stopped his horse and looked back over the troops following him. The mounted warriors were riding three abreast. Behind them were the wagons.

Behind the wagons was the herd of cattle. Their overall pace was slow, held back by the cattle. Sid turned to Masterson and said,

"This is not the way I planned to fight. We need to be quick agile army, not a wagon train."

Pulling up his horse to stand next to Sid, Masterson said, "We'll set up a camp in a protected location and ride out in raids from there. Each raid will be about thirty men and we'll stagger their departures so that it appears as if it is a single group that is striking out in single direction. The camp will move every ten days on a line parallel to our apparent path of attack."

Sid nodded his head and said, "When they gather an army together to head us off, we'll be in a position where we'll be able to attack them from what ever direction we want."

A scout rode up to Sid. His horse had been ridden hard. Despite his concern, Sid waited for the man to get control. The scout said,

"There's a small town a day's ride ahead of us. It's been burned to the ground. All of the old and very young have been killed. A few men and women are there who might have been killed resisting the attackers."

"Slavers?"

"Looks like it. We're about two days behind them," the scout said.

Sid looked over at Masterson and asked, "What do you think? Can we rescue them?"

"It'll take us about five days to catch up with them on horseback,"

Masterson said. Shaking his head, he said, "We don't know enough about what's going on to risk going that far ahead without scouting the area first."

"That's if we ride at regular pace. What if we push it?"

"We can catch up in three, but the horses will be shot."

Sid didn't like the thought of the slavers getting away, but it looked like this particular group was going to be lucky. He thought about it for a minute and then said, "We're going to move the army up to the town that was burned down. We'll stay there for a couple of days while we get more information about what is ahead of us.

"Get horses from ten of the men. Have two of the scouts ride ahead leading a train of five horses each. Have them change horses every hour until they catch up to the slavers. I want them to follow the slavers for three days and detail everything that they do during that time."

Masterson nodded his head and said, "That seems as good of a plan as any."

The army marched into the town sickened by what they saw. Sid looked at the bodies strewn about the main street. Little children had their heads caved in, apparently the result of a mace. The same was true of the elderly. In the center of town, Sid stopped to look down at the body of a woman. She'd been staked out spread eagle on the ground, her clothes ripped from her body, and then killed. It didn't take much imagination to guess that she's been raped before she had been killed.

Sid turned to face his army and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, look around you. This is the work of slavers. They kill the young and the old because they can't sell the young and the old."

Olaf stepped forward and shouted, "Death to the slavers!"

His cry was echoed along the length of the street. Sid shouted, "We will bring death to the slavers, but first we must honor the dead!"

The army was suddenly silent. The troops waited for him to select a burial squad. Considering the condition of the bodies, it was going to be a nasty job. None of them wanted it, but they'd do it.

Burial was common in towns and homesteads. Cremation was more common after a battle. They wondered which form he would order.

Sid climbed off his horse and went to one of the wagons. He grabbed a shovel and went to the body of a child. He picked it up and carried it to a small patch of ground. Setting the body on the ground, he began to dig. He worked alone for less than a minute before others joined him with shovels.

Sid didn't stop working until every body in the town had been buried. When the last person had been put to rest, he stood and said, "Let's make camp."

Masterson had watched Sid working. He shook his head amazed at how he had led them to perform one of the worst tasks that fell upon soldiers. They had followed him without complaint. Turning to Connor, he said, "That man has earned the respect of every man and woman following him. Imagine using the dead to bind your people closer to you."

Connor glanced at Masterson and said, "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"He didn't do that to cement the relationship with the men. He did it to honor the people who had been killed so ruthlessly. He has regard for human dignity, something that you need to learn,"

Connor said.

Connor stepped away to find Barson standing next to him. He smiled and said, "We should go through the houses here and look for items that our army will need."

"That's kind of like robbing the dead," Barson said looking at the remains of the houses.

"The owners are waiting for us to rescue them," Connor said rather than order Barson to do something distasteful. He said, "Don't worry. We will pay them for their goods by returning to them their freedom."

"Yes, sir," Barson said turning to attend to his task.

Sid walked over to where the women were getting ready to cook.

He said, "Prepare noodles tonight and make them spicy. Use some of the beef left from last night to flavor it."

The woman in charge asked, "Why?"

"I don't want them to kill one of the cattle tonight," Sid said. The stench of death was still in the air. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

He said, "There's too much death around here. We don't want to add to it."

"Good thinking," she said. She turned and left to let the cooks know what they were preparing for dinner. The sounds of large pots being drug out of wagons soon filled the air. Noodles were a stable of an army. They were portable, didn't spoil, cooked quickly, and could be flavored to provide variety. No one would complain about noodles that night.

Sid rode off to find Olaf. Once he reached the area where the cattle were grazing, he spotted Olaf directing one of the young men. He rode over and said, "Don't slaughter any of the herd tonight.

There's been too much death here."

"Thanks," Olaf said feeling relieved. He didn't want to butcher an animal after dealing with the bodies. Looking around, he said,

"There should be some cattle around here. We'll want to collect them or else they'll go wild."

"Check the barns for other livestock," Sid said. He knew that the collection of resources was an integral part of moving an army. He looked around the town and thought about how life must have been just a few days earlier.

One of the scouts rode up and said, "We found two farms a day's ride down the road that were untouched, one on each side of the road. It looks to me like they have collected all the animals from the places around them that were burned out. There are also people working in the fields. Here's the worst part, the people are wearing collars."

Sid looked over to Olaf and said, "Stick with the cattle for now. It looks like we've just found our first group of slave owners."

Turning back to the scout, Sid said, "Come with me. We need to talk to Masterson."

When Masterson heard the scout's report, he said, "You have to admire their greed. A couple of slave owners travel out with the slavers. They probably use their slaves to make the slavers comfortable on the trip out. Once the slavers leave, they take the nicest places and rob the rest. Instant homestead and the crops are all ready in place."

With a chill in his voice, Sid said, "I don't think greed is an admirable quality."

Ignoring the rebuke, Masterson said, "It'll be dark soon, so we can't leave now. We'll head out early in the morning and we'll have to take them the next day."

Sid gestured to one of the experienced warriors. When the man came over, Sid said, "Double the guards tonight. There's a plantation a day's ride down the road. We don't want to be surprised."

"Yes, sir," the man said before rushing off to take care of the matter. Masterson watched the near instantaneous actions of the men to Sid's orders.

Sid unfolded his map of the area and laid it where the Masterson, the scout, and him could see it. He said, "The next town sits on a crossroads. I imagine that the slavers have been hard at work along the road that crosses this one."

"You're probably right," Masterson agreed.

Sid said, "We'll follow your original plan. This place will be our first major encampment. We'll raid from here for ten days and then move on."

Masterson traced out the routes that he assumed would have been taken by the slavers. Shaking his head, he said, "The slavers are moving fast. In the five weeks since the report that we've heard about a village falling four weeks ride from the Jones citadel, they've advanced a week's ride. That's an incredible rate of expansion."

"What do you make of that?"

"They are very organized. Someone is leading this effort and he's good at it. I'm going to revise my campaign strategy to take that into account."

"In what way?" Sid asked.

"You are going to need a larger army."



-------

Chapter 7


Sid sat on his horse watching the distant farmhouse from a tree covered hill that was behind the house. The farmhouse had been one of the largest of the houses in the area. Next to the farmhouse were a barn and a couple of outbuildings. One of the outbuildings was obviously a smoke house for curing meat. The darkened walls spoke of years' worth of preserving meat. Another building looked to be a timber mill. Next to it was a building that looked as if it was used to cure the cut lumber.

Standing beside him was a scout who went by the name of Sneak. The scout had been watching the house since early the previous day. Gesturing at the house, he said, "There are over a hundred slaves and ten overseers. The family running the show has a man, a woman, and three kids."

"Can we pull the slaves out during the night?"

"No. They are still building a shelter for them. Since they aren't locked up in a building, the slaves are chained up at night in back of the house. That wouldn't be so bad except they watched over by dogs. If we try to sneak in there, the dogs will start barking," the scout answered.

Sid had watched slaves as they were forced to take care of the crops of all of the adjacent pieces of property. While most homesteads had one or two acres of land, the slavers had joined all of the homesteads along the one side of the road to get a place of almost a hundred acres. They were working the slaves hard using the whip on occasion to motivate them to work harder. He wanted to make sure that the overseers paid for their cruelty. He asked, "What about the overseers?"

"They are sleeping in one of the outbuildings."

"How many doors are in the outbuilding?"

"One very large door," answered the scout. Anticipating the next question, he said, "No windows. I'd say that it was once used for curing and storing lumber."

Looking over at the scout, Sid said, "You are the scout they call Sneak?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good job, Sneak," Sid said, "Get some rest. We'll move into position a half an hour before sunrise."

"Thanks, sir," Sneak replied. Without making a sound, Sneak disappeared back into the woods.

Sid made a gesture and three of his veteran leaders rode up beside him. Sid pointed to the farm spread out below them and said, "That long building down there is where the overseers are sleeping. We'll get into position in the orchard using false dawn. I'll give the command and two of our units will ride in hard and storm the long building. The third will take out the house."

"Which of us do you want leading the charge on the house?" asked one of the men.

"Which of you wants the job?"

The three men looked at each other. They had seen how the overseers treated the slaves and wanted the chance to have their pound of flesh. One of them sighed and said, "I'll lead them."

"Good," Sid said. He looked at the three men and said, "I want as many of them alive as possible."

The men agreed and, once dismissed, went to talk to their men. Each man had ten men under their command. Sid trusted them to take care of the specific details on how to attack the buildings. Connor rode over and said, "Our first raid."

"Two raids at once," Sid corrected. Masterson was at the other farm organizing the attack on it. Like Sid, Masterson didn't like the charge in and attack approach, but there wasn't much that could be done without raising an alarm.

"The men are ready," Connor said. He had left them once the veterans had returned to their men.

"We're too slow," Sid said. He wasn't happy that they were using so many men on this raid. He had envisioned smaller groups moving in and liberating the slaves.

"It is our first raid. Let our men get a little experience under their belts. They'll know what to expect on the next raid and we won't need so many men," Connor said.

"You're right," Sid said. Shaking his head, he said, "I wonder how long it will be before we get enough experience that our men are able to liberate five or six farms a day."

"Ambitious, aren't you?" Connor said with a grin.

"I'm sure that if you were a slave, you'd think I wasn't ambitious enough," Sid said.

Connor looked at Sid for a long moment and then said, "Lighten up, Sid. I know you feel responsible for these men, but if you take things too seriously you'll drive yourself crazy. You need a heavy hand with Masterson; not with me or Peterson."

"I'm not criticizing you; I'm criticizing myself. We've been marching for almost four weeks and this is our first engagement. Even though I knew that it would take us some time to get to this point, I can't help but feel bad that it took us this much time," Sid replied keeping his eyes on the farmstead below.

"It takes some time to get used to the ebb and flow of a campaign. All campaigns start out slow. It takes time to get your army equipped and into position. Towards the middle of the campaign it heats up to where engagements come fast and furious. Near the end of fighting, the engagements slow down, but become much larger. Once the enemy has surrendered, you have the after engagements where holdouts have to be tracked down and eliminated," Connor said.

"My uncle told me about that. He also said that the first steps are the most important steps."

"You've made all the right steps so far," Connor said. He was actually impressed with how Sid had run the campaign so far. He had laid a good foundation of trust between the leaders and the men who followed him. Camp discipline was as good as he'd ever seen on any campaign.

"Why do you say that?"

"You hired me as an advisor," Connor said with a smile.

Sid laughed at the comment and said, "Let's get back to camp. Sunset is approaching and it is too dark at night to risk traveling through the woods."

The engagement in the morning was almost anti-climatic. The squads of men rode up to the outbuilding where the overseers were sleeping and after rushing into the building took them without a fight. The owner and his family were taken while still in their beds. Sid had watched the action from the hilltop at the suggestion of Connor rather than participate directly. There would be plenty of time for him to actively participate in raids, but it was important for the men to learn to operate independently.

Once the area was under their control, Sid mounted his horse and headed down the hill. Connor rode beside him with a large smile on his face. As they went, Connor asked, "What are you going to do with the captives?"

"I'll make sure that justice is served," Sid answered.

Connor frowned at the thought that Sid was going to turn the captives over to the former slaves. He didn't want the campaign to start with a bloody execution of their captives. It would lead to greater resistance in the future and could spiral out of control. He looked over at Sid and said, "Don't get carried away."

"I won't," Sid answered looking over at Connor. He could see the concern on the other man's face.

By the time they reached the farmhouse, the captives from both sites had been herded together in a small group in a cleared area in front of the house. The former slaves, over two hundred of them, were standing around. A small handful of them had looks of anger on their face. All that was keeping them from ripping their former taskmasters into tiny pieces was the presence of Sid's men between the groups.

Sid dismounted and made his way to the house. He went inside and came out with a chair. Taking a seat, he pointed to freed slaves and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Sid Jones. I am the person in charge of this band of men. We have some important business to take care of before you can go on with your lives. So if you will bear with me, we will try to make this as painless as possible."

Looking at the former slaves, he said, "I would like you to line up according to how long you were held as a slave. The individual who has been a slave the longest is to be first in line."

It took five minutes for people to sort themselves out according to the criteria Sid had requested. Once that was done, Sid went to the first man and asked, "How long were you held as a slave?"

"Ten years," replied the man in a flat voice. His eyes were dead and he answered without emotion. The years of slavery had beaten the spirit out of the man. His body bore scars testifying to years of physical abuse.

Sid nodded and went to the next man in line. He repeated his question and learned that man had been a slave for ten years as well. Going from one person to the next, he asked his question and received his answer. The shortest time spent as a slave was five years. The slaver society was smart and wouldn't allow new slaves to be held close to the outer boundaries of the area controlled by them. New slaves were more difficult to control. Someone was in control and that person was very smart.

"By the power invested in me through force of will and arms, I hereby declare you to be free men and women," Sid shouted after taking a position in front of the gathered men and women.

While the former slaves tried to decide how they were supposed to react, Sid returned to his chair and studied the overseers. It was clear that none of them had ever spent time as a slave. Turning back to look at the former slaves, he said, "Would all those who want to join with us in fighting slavery please step forward."

Nine men immediately stepped forward. After a slight delay a woman stepped forward as well. One of the men still in line looked over at the woman and then went over to stand beside her. Sid watched the situation unfold and nodded his head. It was more people than he had expected. Turning to Connor, he said, "Take them and integrate them into our forces."

"Sure thing," replied the older man. He gestured to the volunteers to follow him before walking off to the side of the house. The small band of eleven followed him at a pace common among slaves. They moved fast enough to avoid the whip, but slow enough to give voice to their unhappiness at being ordered around. His first task was to get them fed and clothed. His second task was to return their spirit to them.

Sid turned to look at the overseers with narrowed eyes. In Chaos there wasn't a Geneva Convention concerning the care and feeding of prisoners of war. In a voice that carried through the entire area, he said, "You know that as prisoners of war, you are mine to do with as I will."

None of the prisoners even bothered to look up at him. Sid repeated himself, "You know that as prisoners of war, you are mine to do with as I will!"

One of the prisoners looked up and, after spitting on the ground, said, "So kill us already."

"There is almost fourteen hundred years worth of enslavement represented here. The violence against them must be redressed," Sid replied in a hard tone of voice. The line of former slaves looked at him with interest wondering what he meant to do.

Sid stared at the overseers for a minute and then said, "Each of the overseers have a choice between death by hanging and thirty-five years of indentured servitude."

The chance to live was immediately grabbed by the overseers. One of them asked, "Who will own our papers of indenture?"

Sid smiled and pointed to the former slaves. In a hard voice, he answered, "They will. Each of the former slaves will own you for a duration equal to half of the time that they had been held as a slave. I will leave it up to them to decide how they manage their ownership of you."

The overseers exchanged worried looks. Sid watched them for a minute and then said, "Any of you that would prefer to die by hanging, please step forward and we shall take care of that little piece of business first."

None of the overseers stepped forward. Turning to address the former slaves, Sid said, "Get into groups of people such that each group has seventy years of forced slavery represented. Then select the overseer that will serve you for the next thirty-five years."

One of the former slaves asked, "What will we do? We have nothing."

"It is time for you to take control of your own lives. You can stay here and divide up the land and the houses amongst you. The former owners are far from here and will be given the lands to which they have been taken."

His announcement created a huge wave of excitement among the men and women gathered there. They started to talk amongst themselves to create groups consistent with Sid's command. Chaos reigned as the groups formed and they selected overseers. Sid turned to Peterson and said, "Draw up the papers of indentured servitude."

"As you command," the man answered with a smile. He was impressed with the solution Sid had for dealing with the overseers.

Sid turned to examine the two masters, their wives, and their children. The former slave owners were looking around nervously wondering what was going to be their fate. Rather than address their fear, Sid waited for the first phase of business to end. It took almost an hour for the groups to organize and the appropriate papers to be drawn up. Turning to Masterson, Sid said, "Take the owners and their wives aside for questioning. We need to know more about this slave society. Once we've gotten the answers we need, then I'll decide what to do with them."

"As you command," Masterson said with a grin. He snapped his fingers and a company of men came over to him. With a grin, he said, "Take those folks over to the smoke house and lock them up."

Sid watched the small group of captives as they were led away by the company of men. Turning to the former slaves, he said, "Today is a holiday. Relax and enjoy yourselves. Raid the pantry and prepare a feast. You have become free men and women. I know of very few events in life that deserve celebration more than that."

Connor returned to stand beside Sid in time to hear the announcement. He smiled at the reaction of the former slaves. Pleased with the resolution of the situation, he said, "Good job."

"Thanks."

"The new recruits are going to be a problem," Connor said.

"What have you done with them?"

"I got them set up at the camp and introduced them to the men that were there. They are eating right now. I won't start working them for a day or two. They need a chance to come to grips with the changes in their lives. Not one of them smiled the entire time I was around them."

"Have a couple of the more reticent recruits work with Olaf," Sid said with a smile.

Laughing Connor said, "I like the way your mind works. If that man can't cheer them up, no one can."

"Where is Barson?" Sid asked.

Connor answered, "He's back at the camp."

Sid stood and said, "Let's go talk to Peterson. I want Barson to handle the division of resources among the released slaves. Each group needs enough food and material to survive the year."

"Why Barson?"

"He's going to be my logistics officer once the army gets to the size where we need to split our forces. Masterson will lead the other army and he'll need Peterson to keep him in line. You'll stay with me," Sid answered.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?" Connor asked wondering if Sid had good reason to think that way.

"Not really. It would be a shame to lose a training opportunity like this just because the lessons learned won't be needed for nine months or so," Sid answered. His uncle had always drilled into him that the leader needed to take the long-term perspective because if he didn't, no one would.

Nodding his head, Connor said, "You're right. I'm pleased with how you dealt with the prisoners. I had expected that you'd hang them all."

Frowning as he thought about the consequences of his decision, Sid said, "They are in for a rough time. I imagine that most of the former overseers will get raped a time or two over the next few days."

The suggestion of rape surprised Connor. He looked at Sid and asked, "Why would you say that?"

Sid pointed to some of the women who had been freed. While the men were generally pushing around the overseers at each imagined transgression, the women had expressions of pure unadulterated hate on their faces. It didn't take the Chaos equivalent of a rocket scientist to know what they had planned for their former overseers. He said, "I'm sure that each of those women was repeatedly raped by the overseers. Considering the humiliation they've survived, it is obvious to me that they are willing to make whatever promises are necessary to get their little taste of revenge."

"I hadn't thought of that," Connor admitted. He was surprised that Sid had even considered the possibility.

"It will take some time, but things will work out in the end. There are rules concerning indentured servants that don't exist for slaves."

"What about the owners and their families?"

"The men will become indentured servants for the community as a whole. The women will be allowed to support themselves by working in the local whorehouse or by begging. However, none of them will be allowed to move further than a three hour walk from town. The children will be untouched. I don't believe in making children pay for the crimes of their parents," Sid answered. He didn't feel guilty about sentencing the women to such a life. He was putting them in a position where they would come to cherish every possession they had.

Connor stared at Sid for a moment and then said, "You would actually sentence the women to working in a whorehouse?"

"I'm not forcing them to work in a whorehouse. I'm only saying that more likely than not that it is the only way they will be able to support themselves and their children," Sid answered. He gestured for one of the former slaves to come over and talk to him. The man came over in a slow shuffle. With a mixture of insolence and respect in his voice that would prevent a beating while letting Sid know that he didn't appreciate being ordered around, the man asked, "What do you want?"

"Just wanted to ask you a question or two," Sid answered with a pleasant smile. He understood the edge to the man's behavior.

The man tensed up and asked, "What choice do I have?"

"You're a free man and have the choices available to all free men," Sid answered. He wondered how long the suspicious nature of the former slaves would last.

"Okay," the man replied looking at Sid with suspicion. He was quiet for a moment and then said, "Ask away."

"Who treated you harsher, the slave owner or his wife?"

"The owner was a hard man, but the wife was a cruel bitch," answered the man with real venom in his voice. The owner at least viewed them as an investment that was to be cared for. When the owner got angry at a slave, the slave was whipped. When the wife got angry at a slave, the slave died. His oldest friend had been killed because of that woman.

"That is all that I wanted to know," Sid said glancing meaningfully at Connor. He said, "Thank you very much."

"May I go now?"

"Unless you have any questions for me," Sid answered. After a slight pause, he added, "If you have any questions, ask anyone around here. They'll be glad to help you in any way they can."

"Thanks," the man said. He walked away quickly. He wasn't about to trust a man with power.

Connor was quiet and waited until the freed man had gone on his way. He turned to Sid and asked, "How did you know?"

"The owner views slaves as business investments. Their wives tend to view the slaves as personal property. One is more careful about assuring that a business investment brings a good return on value than one is about maintaining personal property," Sid answered.

"That makes sense," the older man said while nodding his head.

Sighing, Sid said, "We'll have to have some of the more junior men deal with the former slaves until they believe the reality of their situation."



-------

Chapter 8


There was a minor roar of drunken laughter from where the freed slaves were celebrating their new found freedom. They had been shocked when Sid had delivered watered wine and beer for them to drink as part of their festivities. Barson was seated next to Sid drinking a mug of watered wine. Curious, Barson said, "It sounds like they are barely watering the wine. From my experience, that is a sure recipe for disaster."

"They needed it," Sid answered while nudging a log in the fire so that it would burn more evenly. He looked up at the sky missing the moon of earth. At least the stars were bright.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing tells a man that he's free like the chance to make an ass out of himself," Sid answered. It would be a painful lesson, particularly when they would get up in the morning with headaches.

Barson laughed his agreement. He shook his head and said, "That's too true."

A scream shattered the low the murmur of drunken sounds. It was the kind of sound made by a man being forced to do something that he didn't want. Sid shook his head and said, "The retribution has begun."

"Aren't you going to stop it?"

"Nope," Sid answered feeling sick to his stomach. From his readings, he knew that the slave rebellions in Haiti were bloody violent uprisings. He was sure that no one would be killed although a few of the overseers may wish they had been.

Olaf, looking upset, stepped over to the fire and pointed over to the area where the free men were partying. He said, "They're doing things to the overseers."

"I'm sure they are," Sid said.

"Aren't you going to stop it?"

"Nope," Sid answered. He looked at the two young men and said, "If anyone is to stop it, it needs to be the men and women who were freed today. If we do it, then just how free are they? In two days we will be gone and they will be left to rule themselves."

"I suppose you're right," Olaf said with a frown. He didn't want to think about what was happening a hundred paces away. He threw a small stick into the fire and said, "I don't like it."

"Neither do I," Sid said. He stood and started pacing while thinking about what was going on in the temporary camp of the freed people. As horrible as the actions taking place were, Sid could understand why they were occurring. It was human nature to want to punish those who had stripped them of every human dignity. He paused and said, "It would be wrong to think that things of similar horror haven't happened to each and everyone of the former slaves. I'm sure the women have been raped. It wouldn't surprise me if a few of the men haven't been raped as well."

Olaf stared at the fire without saying a word. Barson shook his head and said, "Aren't we supposed to be the good guys?"

"We are the good guys," Sid said. He walked over to where he had a cup of watered wine and picked it up. After taking a sip, he said, "We are fighting slavery and trying to rebuild communities. I think part of rebuilding a community is allowing past injustices to be resolved so that they don't eat the community away from inside. I'll admit that what is going on over there isn't the solution that I would like, but my hope is that the injustices will be resolved as quickly as possible."

"Expedience?" Barson asked.

"Perhaps," Sid admitted. He took his seat and stared at the fire. Another scream sounded from the area. He sighed and said, "It will be hard to sleep tonight."

"Should have set up camp further away," Olaf commented. It was hard for him to remain down for long. He grinned after a moment and said, "I guess that is what we are supposed to do. Learn from experience."

Barson looked over at the other young man and said, "You seem to be enjoying this adventure."

"You bet. I'm seeing new sights and meeting new people. Seeing all them folks freed today made me feel real good," Olaf said gesturing towards the celebration. He said, "I was really furious when we went into that town the other day and saw all those folks who had been killed. Freeing these people makes me feel better about myself. I'm doing something good."

Nodding his head in agreement, Barson said, "What I saw in town was disgusting. I'd have to say that raping a murderer seems a minor punishment compared to the crime."

"Most of those slaves were probably taken in a raid like what occurred in that town. They watched their mothers, fathers, and children get killed. Afterwards, they were abused, beaten, raped, and treated like animals. I'm sure that the overseers are in for a rough time, but it will pale in comparison to what those men and women suffered," Sid said. The reminder of what they had seen the other day was important. Olaf had made an important point about learning from experience. In the future they would have to camp further from where the freed men and women were celebrating.

Listening to the noise of the freed men and women celebrating kept Sid from sleeping. It wasn't that the noise was loud, but the occasional sounds of men being abused bothered him. It was the middle of the night when he gave up trying to sleep and went to check the guards. Walking around the periphery of the camp, he stopped at each guard position pleased to find that all were awake and alert. By the time he had finished with checking every guard post, the sounds of celebration had died down to be replaced by the low murmur of men and women telling their individual tales of woe.

He walked over to the camp set up by the freed slaves to see what was going on. Before reaching them, he paused to listen to the conversation around the fire. One of the men said, "I remember the first few days after I was taken. I feel asleep every night shaking and crying like that bastard over there. I don't feel sorry for him. He knows that his hell is only going to last thirty-five years. I had to accept that my hell was never going to end."

"You had given up hope?" asked one of the women surprised by the admission.

"I didn't give up anything. It was beaten out of me," the man snarled. He had the scars on his back to prove his claim. His comment was greeted with lots of knowing nods and supporting statements from others around the fire.

"What do you think of that Sid Jones fellow?"

"I don't know."

"He seems like an honest fellow to me."

"Yeah, too honest. I was sure that he was going to be over here telling us to stop what we were doing, but he left us alone."

"It wasn't his place to tell us what to do. He said that we were free and he's treated us that way."

"I don't know about the rest of you, but tonight is the last time I'm getting drunk like this. Tomorrow, I'm going to find me a good house and tend the fields. I want to get back to the simple life that I used to have. All I want is to be left alone."

Sid grinned at the last statement. He couldn't tell who was saying what, but it was more important to know that they had calmed down a little and were beginning to think about how to rebuild their lives. Part of that was taking responsibility for their actions.

"That fellow over there won't be worth anything tomorrow. I never was after a reaming like that," said a man. He shivered at the memories of the things that had been done to him.

"Shit, I got raped every night and was expected to work the next day. He'll work or I'll whip his ass," said a woman with a barely constrained fury.

"Claire, I don't want to become like them."

"Right. I don't want to be like the thing I've hated so much."

"I know what you mean," another man said. He sighed and said, "We're going to have to set up a local militia. Anyone that tries to make me a slave again is going to die."

"Here, here!"

"Do you think there is an inn here? I'd like to get back to running an inn."

"I'm sure there is."

Sid slipped away and returned to camp feeling much better about things. There would be further abuses of the indentured servants, but he suspected that they wouldn't be nearly as bad. They might hate the overseers, but their desire to have a normal life burned brighter than the desire for revenge.

It was early when Sid woke. He stepped out of his tent hoping to have an uninterrupted trip to the latrine. Instead, he found a scout waiting for him. The man looked like he had traveled through the night. Pausing, Sid asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give a report of what we've observed," the scout answered.

"Okay. Talk," Sid said glancing over at the latrine and wishing he had a chance to relieve his bladder.

"We've been following the slavers like you ordered. It's not pretty."

"What do you mean?"

"They are marching at a quick pace during the day and abusing the prisoners at night. Anyone who falls behind is killed. You can follow them by the bodies they are leaving behind."

"How many people are involved?" Sid asked thinking about the conversations he had overheard the previous night.

"There are at least a thousand captives. They are being watched by about seventy men."

"How are so few men controlling that many people?" Sid asked. He would have expected closer to a hundred men.

"They have the captives tied together by a rope around their necks in strings of fifty. There are less than two hands of space between them. If one person falls, it chokes the others in the line. Each of them has their arms tied together behind their back and hobbles on their feet. Anyone who moves slow gets the whip."

"How many people are watching each string of captives?" Sid asked.

"Two and, sometimes, three. The strings with the stronger individuals have three men watching them at all times. They use the whip almost continuously."

Nodding, Sid asked, "What about scouts?"

"A handful of men are riding ahead at any given time. They don't post guards at night other than to watch the captives. The further away they get from here, the sloppier their operation gets. It is as though they know that the locals will support them if they need it. In fact, the locals are having their slaves bury the bodies they are leaving behind."

"How far ahead of us are they?"

"Five days at a standard march. There's no way to catch up to them and the area is getting more difficult for our scouts," the scout answered. He shifted and said, "I told the other two scouts to watch for another day and then to return here."

"It sounds to me like they've taken a lot of territory," Sid said.

"Yeah, I don't know how they did it."

Masterson had been standing to the side listening to the briefing. He interrupted, "I can answer that question."

"You can?" Sid asked turning to face his strategist.

"I interrogated the slave owners last night."

"What did you learn?"

"Well, it seems that this entire thing is a business run by a single individual. In most of the major cities within the boundaries where the slavers operate there are places that are called slave shops. For two hundred conches, a man can go into a slave shop and order a fully functional plantation complete with a hundred slaves. Each additional slave is a conch. They are offering all kinds of slave- based businesses. For fifty conches, one can order a whore house complete with ten female slaves," Masterson said. He had to admit that even he was shocked at the scale of the operation.

"For two hundred conches they can get a fully functional plantation?" Sid asked incredulously.

"Yeah, that's what the two owners paid for these two places."

Knowing that he had Sid's full attention, Masterson said, "Here's how I figure it works. First, a couple of guys order a plantation. The slavers set up four plantations in an area where they have already raided for slaves and hand them over to the customers. The plantation doesn't cost them a pinch. The money the farmers pay for the place more than covers the cost of the raid. After that, the slavers go to the next town and take over the entire population along with any homesteads that are along the way. In the process, they get over a thousand slaves. After the raid, they rush back to a major city with their thousand slaves. They sell them at half a conch each to a distributor. They've come out ahead by at least five hundred conches."

"That's horrible," Sid said. The amount of money involved was mind-boggling. A horse cost a conch. A single family homestead that was already settled could cost five conches.

"Oh, it gets worse. It appears that the men on the slave party can earn enough to purchase a plantation after three or four raids. Each raid helps establish another handful of individuals with sufficient wealth to become customers."

"How about the overseers? Where do they fit in?" Sid asked.

"That's an interesting question," Masterson answered. After a moment of quiet, he said, "They are the poor from the large cities that are under the control of the slavers. Untrained in weapons, all they can basically use is the whip and the club. That means that they can't serve as slavers. There are at least ten cities with populations over twenty thousand. Their work was displaced by the slaves so they took up being overseers."

Sid shook his head at the thought of what was happening. As poor men they would have been desperate to find some class of people who would be below them socially. Curious, he asked, "What is the guy in charge doing with all of that money?"

"He's building an army," answered Masterson.

"This is organized crime on a scale that is unimaginable," Sid said. He wondered how large of an army the head slaver was putting together.

"Some sick mind came up with it," Masterson said.

The scout said, "When you get about three days from here, every place that you see has slaves working in the fields. There aren't that many farms, but there are a lot of fields being worked. I'd say that each place is the result of taking over fifty farmsteads."

Listening to the report, Sid was bothered but he didn't know what it was that bothered him. Thinking it over, he realized that the slavers were taking over property at an incredible rate. Frowning, he figured that they had to be raiding towns at the rate of one every five or six days. He looked over at Masterson and asked, "What do you make of that?"

"They've been busy," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"No. They are busy," Sid said realizing that they were due for another group of slavers headed for the next town. They would take over the properties left behind in the town that they had raided a couple of day ago. After that, they would then move onto the next town for the next batch of slaves. Looking around, he said, "We're in big trouble!"

"Why?"

"Think about it," Sid said with his eyes flashing. Seeing that Masterson was missing the point, he said, "All of the farmsteads around here have all been given away. Three or four days ago, slavers were here. They are due back any time now to raid further down the road."

"Damn! You're right," Masterson exclaimed.

Sid looked around for a second and spotted one of the veterans. Gesturing to the man, he said, "Double the guard and send out the scouts. We're expecting trouble."

"Yes, sir," the veteran replied. He ran off to execute his orders.

Thinking about what Sid had observed, Masterson realized that they were going to have to prepare for a battle. Mentally, he worked out the numbers. There would be four hundred slaves, four families of owners, forty overseers, and seventy-five or more raiders. In short, they would be facing a force that was larger than their own. Turning to Sid, he said, "Where's the map? We've got to plan our next engagement."

"Hold on while I get the map."

"Right," Masterson said. He couldn't believe that Sid had put the pieces together before he had. He wished that he had taken the time to scout the area ahead so that he'd be better prepared for an engagement.

Sid rushed into his tent and went through his pack searching for his map. It took him a long fifteen seconds to find it. He grabbed it and headed out of his tent. Masterson joined him in the short dash to a small table that they had liberated from the farm house. Spreading the map on the table, Sid looked for their current location. Pointing to a spot on the map, he said, "We are here."

Masterson studied the map for a long minute. His mind was racing as he considered plan after plan. Gesturing to the scout, he said, "Point out the farms that are being occupied."

"Farms about a quarter of a day's walk, from here on forward," the scout said as he pointed to locations on the map that ran along the road.

"We need Connor and Peterson," Masterson said. He chewed on his lower lip while studying the map.

Sid turned and shouted, "Connor! Peterson!"

It didn't matter if either man actually heard him shout, they would get the word that Sid wanted them. Masterson was busy talking to the scout and pointing out features of the map. The scout paid close attention. Sid interrupted and said, "Once we engage the slavers, then we can move a ways up the road before heading into the countryside."

"Not if they are filling those farms with slave labor as they travel," Masterson said. He pointed out four locations about a day's march further up the road and said, "I want to hit these places as soon as possible. They will act like a firebreak for the next set of slavers. They'll be busy trying to figure out if it was a slave rebellion or something. We'll hit them while they are investigating."

"That will have to wait until after we deal with the slavers that are on the way here," Sid said.

"We'll have to fight here," Masterson said having already decided the matter before even looking at the map.

"Why here?"

"We don't have enough time to take out the farms further up the road. If we are right, the slavers will be here sometime this afternoon. They'll be expecting to spend the night here before heading onto the town. We had better be prepared to host them," Masterson said with a smile.

Sid frowned while he considered what Masterson said. Curious, he asked, "Is there any chance that our captives know about this?"

"Oh, I'm sure that they know all about it. I would bet that they are thinking they will get rescued anytime now," Masterson said. He gave Sid a grin that wasn't exactly friendly and said, "I'll be talking to them both some more this morning."

Connor arrived and asked, "What's up?"

"We are to get ready for battle," Sid answered. He glanced at Masterson and said, "We're expecting some slavers this afternoon or tomorrow."

"I'll get the men ready," Connor said with a frown.

"In the worst case, get the camp packed and the men out of sight. We'll abandon this area if we aren't ready to engage the slavers when they arrive," Sid said.

Connor nodded his agreement with the orders and said, "Okay."

Masterson said, "I'll come up with something in time to take them on."

"We'll play it safe," Sid replied looking at Masterson. He added, "We aren't going to lose half our men because we rushed into a battle when a strategic retreat would have been better."

"I..."

"We need more intelligence. Talk to the prisoners," Sid said. He frowned and added, "I'll talk to the folks we freed yesterday. They need to know what is happening."

Connor frowned and said, "I wonder why they didn't warn us."

"Probably didn't realize that we didn't know," Sid said. He wanted to hit himself for not taking the chance to get more information out of them before sending them on their way.

Peterson, looking excited, ran over and said, "I was across the road at the other place checking out the supplies. One of the men told me that more slavers are expected this afternoon."

"We just came to that conclusion," Sid said thinking that they at least had the beginnings of a timetable.

"What do you want us to do?"

"You need to get the camp ready to move," Connor said.

"What will you be doing while I'm doing that?" Peterson asked.

"I'll be getting the men together in preparation for a battle," Connor answered with a sigh. He looked over at Masterson deciding that this was one occasion where last minute actions weren't the man's fault.

"I'll be figuring out how we can fight them," Masterson answered bending over the map. He was going to have to put together a completely different strategy for the campaign based on what he had learned.

"I'll be getting the word out to the men and women we freed," Sid said knowing that it was unlikely that it was necessary. Of course, the first thing he was going to do was get over to the latrine but he wasn't going to announce that to the whole camp.



-------

Chapter 9


Seated on a chair in front of the house, Sid watched the slavers settle their human cargo on one side of the road. Connor was out on the road talking with one of the slavers informing him about the 'arrangements' that had been made for hosting the troop of slavers. The suggestions Connor was making went along with what the freed men and women had told Masterson was common practice.

Everything was planned so as not to raise any concerns among the slavers. The farm looked busy with close to fifty men working in the field around the house. The slavers would not know that they were Sid's men and that their weapons were at their feet. Instead, they gave the appearance of slaves working under the watchful eye of the overseers.

Once the slaves were all seated on the road, the slavers divided into three groups. A third of them remained with the slaves to watch over them. The other two groups separated to walk to the two farm houses where they would be put up for the night. The one group had a fifteen minute walk to get to the other farm house.

Connor walked over to where Sid was seated with one of the slavers. When he reached Sid he turned to watch the one group disappear behind some trees. Satisfied that they wouldn't see what was happening, he turned back to Sid. Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Sir, this is Lieutenant Walker. He says that he's in charge here."

"Not for much longer," Sid replied with a grim smile.

The Lieutenant realized that things were not what they seemed and drew his sword. Sid's sword cleared his sheath a fraction of a second after the Lieutenant's sword. Like most men of Chaos, the Lieutenant had drawn the sword back to swing at Sid. Sid, trained in Epee, put the point of his sword through the neck of his opponent. The direct motion was many times faster than the long swing of the sword.

Everywhere around Sid, men joined the fight. The slavers were spread out in little groups of three or four men and disorganized. Sid's men were in close groups and prepared for the battle. When they charged, they outnumbered the enemy four to one.

Olaf, sandwiched between two slavers, cracked their heads together making a horrible sound. Once they were down, he pulled out his sword and stabbed them to make sure that they stayed down. He knew that they were cold-blooded killers and wouldn't have hesitated to kill him. Satisfied that he didn't need to worry about them, he raced towards another slaver giving forth a blood curdling yell.

The initial engagement was over in less than a minute. The slavers that had remained with the slaves reacted in a predictable manner. Individually, each slaver started towards the action, but they were too late to help the first group. It was clear that the majority of the men were overseers since most of them were armed with clubs.

Sid and his men were ready for them when they arrived. The yell of men entering battle echoed through the air. The battle cries of the slavers quickly changed character. Men screamed as metal met meat and men died. The slavers fought furiously, but they were out numbered since they arrived in small groups that were easily overwhelmed. The engagement lasted several minutes.

The third group of slavers, almost five minutes down the road, had recognized that something was wrong when the second group had charged. They turned around to back up their associates. Unbeknownst to them, one of Sid's squads had been waiting for them on horseback further down the road. They swept down on the rear of the slavers and took them out in surprise. By the time the front of the group realized what was happening, the rest of Sid's forces had them surrounded. Out of the original one hundred and fifty slavers, only ten survived as prisoners. Most of them had wounds.

Among Sid's men, three were wounded. The camp women moved in and took care of the wounded men. Minor wounds were covered with honey, sutured, and bandaged. The use of honey as an antiseptic was widespread in Chaos. It was often carried on campaigns for that use rather than as a sweetener. Deeper wounds were carefully tended and covered with honey and bandages, but left open so that they could drain. The resulting scars were often very hideous.

While the wounded were being treated, Sid went to the road to take care of the slaves. Standing ill at ease, and supervised by a handful of his men, were four groups of families. Sid smiled when he realized that the slave owners had not participated in the fight. He told his men, "Take them to the smoker. Masterson will question them in a while."

The men moved out with the families. Sid turned back to look at the slaves. They were looking at him with mixed expressions. Some were afraid that they were being taken by a different group of slavers. Others were hopeful that they were being rescued from a life of slavery. Sid took a moment to examine them. It was clear that they were exhausted from their march. Taking a breath, he said, "We'll have you out of your bindings in a minute. We have food for you. Rest here tonight. Tomorrow, you can get on with your lives. Down the road are empty homesteads and you are free to take one. Just make sure that they are empty. The men and women that we liberated here yesterday have already gone to take up residence in some of them."

One of the men looked at Sid and asked, "Can I join you?"

"Yes. All those who want to join us can come by the house after you've eaten," Sid answered.

"Good," replied the man. He stood straighter and looked around at the other men and women around him. He added, "I will be first in line to join you."

It took an hour for the four hundred slaves to get situated. Used to boiled grains for meals, the freed men and women were excited at the feast put out for them. The camp women had prepared large vats of noodles with slices of beef. The slaves had crowded around the vats for the chance to have real meat. Bushels of dried fruits were set out and quickly disappeared.

Sid watched the freed men and women slowly come to acceptance of their changed circumstance. Close to fifty men and women came to him after eating to volunteer to join his army. It was far more people than he had expected. Once the volunteers had finished gathering in front of the house, Connor asked, "How many have fighting experience?"

Ten of the men raised their hands. Pointing to a group of four veterans, Sid said, "The four men over there are in charge of our four companies. Go over and get assigned to a unit."

Sid pointed to one of the older women and said, "She's in charge of the camp ladies. If the women would join her, she'll make sure that they have work to do."

One of the women raised her hand and said, "I want to kill slavers, not cook food."

Startled, Sid looked at her and took in the torn state of her clothing. It was clear that she had been a camp favorite among the slavers. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Then we'll put you in a position where you can kill slavers."

"Thank you," the woman replied. She looked around at the other men as if seeking out anyone who would challenge her decision.

Sid asked, "Does anyone have special skills? Blacksmith? Drover? Herder?"

One man raised his hand and said, "I'm a smithy."

Pointing to Peterson, he said, "Join that man over there. He'll get you set up with all you need to work as a smithy."

"I was apprenticed as a tanner. I know how to make boiled leather armor," another man said.

"We can use a man like you," Sid said. He pointed to Peterson and said, "Go with Peterson."

Connor stepped forward and said, "The rest of you will come with me. We'll break you into two groups for training."

Sid watched the men and women go to their assigned places. Masterson remained by Sid and looked over at him. In a soft voice, he said, "Your army is growing. We've gained sixty people in two days. At this rate, you'll have a thousand men in two months."

"We'll have an army of untrained soldiers. That's not good," Sid said.

"Connor will have them trained as spearmen," Masterson said with a satisfied nod of his head. It would be good to have a couple of companies of spearmen who could function in a defensive role.

"We don't need nine hundred spearmen," Sid replied.

Pointing over to where Olaf was taking care of the cattle, Masterson said, "Olaf was very good out there today. He had six kills."

"Olaf was particularly bothered by the destruction in the town," Sid said.

"He's still a good fighter. He has leadership skills as well," Masterson said.

Sid nodded his agreement with Masterson's assessment. Knowing where Masterson wanted to lead the discussion, Sid said, "I don't want him put in charge of a company. He serves a critical role here."

"The herders form a natural company anyway," Masterson said conceding to Sid. He had already learned that trying to argue with Sid was like talking to a rock.

"Yes, they do. They have to keep off raiders, wolves, and other hazards to the herd. They do not need to be on the battlefield to fight."

"You're right," Masterson admitted. He looked over at Olaf and said, "Still, Olaf is special."

"And he's in exactly the right position," Sid said.

Connor returned to the front of the house. Looking back, he said, "I've got our new recruits settled. Tomorrow we'll start training them as spearmen."

"Tomorrow we move out," Sid said.

"I know," Connor said. He grinned and said, "The first lesson is how to move as a unit."

Sid laughed and said, "They'll have plenty of practice at that."

"They've already had plenty of practice at that," Masterson observed. The slaves had to march in lockstep to avoid tripping each other up while being moved.

"Walking in a straight line is different than marching in formation," Connor said.

Peterson came over to the group and nodded his greetings. Sid turned to him and asked, "How are we doing on supplies?"

"The slavers had supplies to last for a couple of days. We've added them to our supplies, so we aren't in too bad of a situation. I've distributed some of the leather armor to the new recruits. I've taken some of the cured lumber from this place to make spears. We have more than enough spearheads left to outfit another two hundred men," Peterson answered.

"What about meat?"

"Olaf and Barson scrounged up a couple head of cattle, a dozen pigs, and some chickens from the places around here," Peterson answered. It wasn't nearly enough, but it would have to do. He had added a wagon on which to carry supplies. Now each wagon would have room to carry a couple of cages for the chickens. The cooks would have fresh eggs.

The fact that they were acquiring animals was good news. An army moved on its stomach and meat was an important part of the diet. If they didn't have meat, the army would weaken. Of course, fresh fruit and vegetables were just as important. Sid asked, "What about fruits and vegetables?"

"We've harvested a little of what is in the field. Couldn't take too much or we'd be leaving starving people behind us. I've made arrangements to purchase crops from the folks we've freed. They were more than happy to have a customer for their produce. Of course, we'll have to wait until the crops are harvested," Peterson answered. It was time for him to start establishing a supply line with one end rooted here. That would require more men, wagons, and oxen.

"Make sure that you teach Barson how to set up a supply line," Sid said.

"Of course," Peterson said. He had been impressed with how Barson had handled distributing the goods left in the abandoned farmsteads. No one was going to starve before the crops came in.

An hour after sunrise the next morning, Sid sat at the head of his forces on horseback. Peterson stood beside the trail looking up at Sid to get any last minute instructions. In a quiet voice, Sid said, "I'll see you in six days?"

"Yes. We'll head out in two days with the wagons and supplies," Peterson answered. He was staying behind with one company of men to move the supplies up the road. The wagons weren't good for traversing the forest.

"Good." Turning to look at the four companies of men waiting behind him, Sid said, "Let's go."

With a soft touch on the reigns, Sid led his forces away from the farm. His forces were cutting through the forest behind the farms so that they could appear without warning at the targeted farms. It was going to be a long difficult march of four days. They'd have to move quietly so as to avoid forewarning the slavers.

The hours passed with the men on horseback leading the company of spearmen who were on foot. The terrain was fairly flat, but the trees and bushes made forward progress difficult. The scouts watched the backs of the farms they passed to assure that their passage had gone unnoticed.

The camp at nights had cold food. There was no reason to advertise their presence with fires that could be seen for miles around. Like soldiers everywhere, the men complained about the cold food, the cold ground, and the other minor discomforts of being on a march. Sid listened to the grumblings with a smile. It was a normal part of the background noise. When it disappeared or turned to shouts, he would have to worry about it.

Settled in camp, the men watched Sid repair his reins. There was something comforting about having a commander who performed the basic activities that marked the time of the common soldier. Nothing was more important than taking care of one's equipment. Seeing that Sid did his own repairs provided an interesting contrast with Masterson who assigned the job to one of the men.

Seated next to Sid, Masterson drank a cup of water with distaste. Picking up a stick, he started to draw a map in the dirt. As he worked, he said, "Tomorrow morning, we'll take the two farms on the other side of the hill. Once we have the situation under control, we'll take the two farms across the road. Hopefully we'll have everything sorted out by midday."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Sid said.

"What do you want to do about the neighbors?"

"We'll take them in the afternoon and then pull back to the first set of farms that we took," Sid answered.

"That leaves us with two fronts on which we can be attacked," Masterson said drawing arrows pointing towards the position they would occupy.

"That leaves us with eight hundred just freed slaves who have vested interests in making sure that any attack is not successful," Sid countered. He picked up a stick and drew twice as many arrows pointing away from the position they would occupy.

"Still, they are untrained. They'll also be very difficult to control."

"We'll be quiet. If we leave the freed slaves out in the field during the day, the neighbors might not even realize that anything happened."

Masterson nodded his head and thought about the difficulty of an attack in broad daylight. The slaves would be out in the field being watched by the overseers. The overseers would be covering almost the entire area. All it would take is for one to get away and the alarm would be raised. In hours, the alarm would be spread over the entire area. Slavers feared nothing more than a slave revolt.

He was about to point out the difficulties in the plan when Sid said, "You know, it just might be possible to put some weapons out in those fields. We could maybe sneak one of our men into the line on the way out to the field to let folks know what is going on."

Nodding his head, Masterson said, "We wouldn't even need to sneak them into the line. Just have a man or two lie down in the field. Once the slaves are in place, they stand up and start working."

Looking over at Connor, Sid said, "Find us a dozen volunteers. Let them know they'll have to carry weapons into the field, spend the night out there, and then work most of the day pretending to be slaves."

"Sure thing," Connor said rising from the ground. He liked the way Sid worked with Masterson to develop a plan that worked and risked as few lives as possible. It made dealing with the troops a lot easier. He figured he'd have to turn down volunteers.

Masterson said, "I've been thinking about that fellow who was in charge of the slaves. What kind of name is Lieutenant?"

"It's not a name, it's a rank," Sid answered. He hadn't thought about it at the time. Ranks in the military in Chaos tended to be rather loose. People just knew who was in charge. Sitting up, he asked, "Are there many military organizations here that have well defined ranks?"

"Sure, there's a few. The highest rank is General or Commander, depending on what part of the country you are from. All armies have a General. Some armies call the guy below the General a Commander. Usually though, that is when you have a very large army which has multiple divisions that work independently. Below that is the rank of Captain and then Squad Leader. At the bottom is the soldier."

That was consistent with what Sid had learned in his briefings with Sally Caretaker. Shaking his head, he said, "Where I'm from there are a lot of different ranks. Lieutenant is one of those ranks."

"You don't say," Masterson said eyeing Sid thoughtfully. Gerald used to talk about how different things were where he was from, but Masterson had never quite figured out where that was. He asked, "What kinds of ranks?"

"Well, our military has two different categories of soldier. There's the officer and the enlisted man. Each category has its own set of ranks. We'd be in the officer category. I guess I would still be General. You, Connor, and Peterson would be Colonels. Below Colonels would be Major, then Captain, and then Lieutenant with gradations at each rank. Among the enlisted category, you have Sergeant, Corporal, and Private with gradations at each rank. I'd say that Olaf acts more like a Sergeant while Barson is acting more like a Corporal."

Raising an eyebrow, Masterson said, "Sure sounds complicated."

"Not really. It gives a very strict chain of command so that you know exactly who you are to take orders from. To facilitate that, each rank has a badge that they wear that identifies the rank. If a higher ranking man comes along and orders you to do something, you do it."

"Still sounds complicated."

"It is necessary when you have an army of a hundred thousand men," Sid said. He was going to say a million men, but knew that Masterson would never believe that number.

"If they are using that system of ranks, how big do you think their army is?"

"Probably a hundred thousand men," Sid answered. He thought about the fact that there were four small armies going up against one huge army.

Masterson sat back and stared at Sid. There was no way that he could take a regular sized army and fight a monster army like that. Shaking his head, he said, "I wish you had told me that earlier. I would have stayed home."

"Why?"

"There's no way we can manage an army large enough to defeat that monster," Masterson said.

"This isn't the only force involved in this war. There are three other armies being raised," Sid said with a smile.

Looking at Sid with narrowed eyes, he said, "That makes me feel a little better. Who's in charge of those other armies?"

"Malcolm Chambers, Colonel Lee, and Danny Sun. Malcolm asked me to join this effort."

Masterson recognized each of those names and whistled. There were maybe a dozen men who had reputations that spanned all of Chaos. Gerald Jones had been one of them. The three men Sid had identified were others. The idea that Malcolm would invite Sid to participate in this war raised his opinion of Sid even more. He looked at Sid and realized that Sid was going to be another.

Rising from his seat, Masterson said, "I'm off to my tent. I've got some planning to do."

"See you in the morning," Sid said.

Once Masterson left, Sid was alone. He wished that Olaf and Barson were there. He could use the company of a couple of young men. Light hearted conversation was in short supply around Masterson, Peterson, and Connor.

He took a drink of water and thought about the fact that the slavers were using Earth-based military ranks. That wasn't good at all. He wondered how someone from Earth could come here without having a Heroic character. The portal at Crossroads would prevent someone from coming here who wasn't willing to act according to the rules.



-------

Chapter 10


The best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray. In war, it can be said that all plans go astray and do so in the worst possible manner. Sid had been fighting his way to this location for three months. Their movement had been slow and controlled. The army was in the area where one of the Damsels in Distress was being kept. The problem was that news of his army had preceded him and the slaves had taken it upon themselves to revolt. Every farm within ten miles of his position was up in flames. Three quarters of the sky was lit by flames.

Looking at the orange light reflected off the smoke in the sky, Sid swore under his breath and then said, "This is a disaster."

Barson looked at Sid with a puzzled expression and asked, "What's the matter? We're winning."

"No we're not," Sid said in disgust. Not only couldn't he find the Damsel in Distress amongst all this disorder, but this could lose the war against the slavers.

His reaction was a surprise to Connor, but not to Peterson. As far as Connor was concerned, each slaver that the rampaging slaves killed was one less that they had to face. He asked, "What's the matter?"

"They are destroying our food supplies for the winter," Peterson answered. Thousands of acres of crops going up in flames meant starvation for everyone in the area. Since they were in the area, it meant starvation for them.

"It's worse than that," Sid said. "They are losing the war for us."

"What do you mean?" Olaf asked.

The wind changed direction and the sudden onslaught of smoke caused their eyes to water. Ignoring the discomfort, Masterson said, "We've collected about four thousand men and women. That seems like a pretty good sized army. Those idiots rioting out there number around six thousand, but they aren't organized. The slavers are going to put together a force of about ten thousand disciplined men and put down this rebellion. They'll go after each individual group and massacre them. No quarter will be given. Guess who is going to get clobbered in the process?"

"You're right," Barson said feeling embarrassed at his failure to think through the consequences of the uprising. Like everyone else, he had fallen into the trap of thinking about the campaign in terms of freeing individual slaves. The true goal was to take out the slavers.

Looking around at the others, Masterson said, "We're going to have to pull back. It is time for a strategic retreat."

Shaking his head in disgust, Sid said, "If we pull back now, we're going to lose another thousand men and women for our army. They are as good as dead."

Scratching his head, Olaf asked, "Can't you just send out some men to recruit before we pull back?"

"We're going to have to do that," Connor said beginning to realize just how bad the situation had become. An influx of a lot of untrained soldiers could destroy the training of the men under his command.

The acrid smell of crops burning was irritating Olaf's eyes and lungs. He looked over his shoulder in the direction where the cattle were grazing two hours behind them. Rubbing his eyes, he said, "We need to get out of this smoke. If the fires get out of control, we are in the path."

"You're right," Peterson said. He nodded his head and looked over at Barson. "If we get caught in the fire, we'll lose everything and this war will be over."

Thinking about what would be required to save everything they had, Barson said, "We can pull out of here in less than an hour."

"It's night. I don't like moving the troops in the dark," Connor said.

"With the fires burning, the sky is lit up enough to travel," Olaf said. He shook his head and said, "We really need to get the cattle out of here."

Looking around the assembled group, Connor knew that Olaf was right. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "We can pull back. I don't see too much difficulty in maintaining a four hour march tonight. Much further and the light from the fires will fail us."

"We don't want to light torches along the road. It'll point right in the direction we're heading," Masterson said. He looked at Sid and said, "Other than that, I don't see a problem with marching tonight."

Acknowledging the good advice, Sid said, "We'll do that."

Olaf mounted his horse and asked, "Where will we meet up?"

Sid thought about it for a second and said, "Weavertown."

"Good choice," Masterson said. He had been ready to make that same suggestion.

"That's four days from here," Barson said thinking about the distance.

"It is also the only defensible position within ten days of here," Masterson said. Turning to Connor, he said, "Send out twenty men, each in a different direction. Tell them to collect fifty men each and bring them to that farm we stayed at that was two days north of Weavertown. Don't let them know that we will be camped at Weavertown."

"No. It would be better to tell them to go to that town where they make the dyes," Connor said. He was quiet for a moment and then added, "I'll ask them to get twenty each. We can't grow the army faster than that."

"You're right on both counts," Masterson said acknowledging the other man's skill in developing troops. He knew that any mention of Weavertown would demand investigation by the slavers. The last thing he wanted was for them to show up before their army was ready He'd rather be taking the battle to the enemy than having the enemy pursue him.

"Let's get to it," Sid said pleased that his three advisers were working together so well.

Nodding his head, Olaf turned and rode off in a rush. The smoke in the air would make the cattle nervous. The quicker he could get them away from it the better it would be. The other herders would be pleased to get on the road despite the dark.

Sid watched Olaf ride away. Smiling, he said, "Olaf is coming along."

"Yes, he is," Masterson said. He had no idea how Olaf was managing it, but the herd was actually growing in size.

Thinking that he would pass along that assessment to Olaf the next time that he saw him, Barson said, "With your leave, I'll get the wagons ready to move out."

"You have it," Peterson said with a smile. He watched as Barson ran off to get the wagons together and on their way. Although it sounded easy, it was a tougher job than Olaf was performing. He had fifty wagons to load and get moving. The smoke would make the horses nervous and they wouldn't want to settle into their harnesses. Camps didn't like packing up after dark and moving out.

Grinning at Peterson, Sid said, "Barson is coming along. Pretty soon he'll be ready to take your job."

"True," Peterson said watching Barson organize the cooks for loading their kettles onto the wagons. The young man moved confidently through the camp, calling out orders in a calm voice. The most impressive part was that he allowed people to do their jobs without interference. If there was a problem, he assigned someone else to help out rather than interfere directly.

"Both young men are both credits to their fathers," Sid said. The fact of the matter was that most of the young men and women who had been brought to him by their fathers were outstanding. He was going to be pleased to face the men when he brought them home.

Peterson added, "Barson and Olaf working together have really kept us in good supplies. In most campaigns, I end up with empty wagons. This time, I'm adding wagons. The herd is getting larger everyday because of them."

"Let's mount up and go to the top of the hill. I want to see just how bad it is," Sid said.

Looking behind him where the men were camped, Connor said, "I've got to send out the men and get the rest prepared to march back to Weavertown."

"Go ahead," Sid said while walking over to his horse. He mounted up and rode ahead knowing that the others would catch up to him.

When he had nearly reached the top of the hill, Sid paused beside a strange structure at the entryway to the farm. Looking over at the structure, he tried to puzzle out what it was. In shock, he realized that it was an x-frame on which a woman had been tied. Riding closer, he looked at the woman and realized she was the Damsel he had been seeking. The realization that she was dead struck him like a knife to the stomach.

Noticing a man seated at the top of the hill, Sid rode on. The man's posture advertised to the world that he had lost something very dear to him. He looked like a man who had lost all reason for living. Barely able to restrain the anger at finding the Damsel dead, Sid asked, "Who did that to the woman back there?"

"The man who used to own her did it. She wouldn't accept his advances and slapped him. He hung her there a week ago," the man answered turning to look at Sid and curious about the fury in the man's voice.

"When did she die?"

"This morning," answered the man. As a slave he had been able to do nothing. When the revolt started, he had rushed out to cut her down. He reached the x-frame only to discover that he was too late. Early that morning she had been alive, but by noon she was dead. He turned to look at Sid and said, "I tried to get to her during the revolt, but I was too late to save her."

"You cared for her?" Sid asked in a quiet voice that barely covered the distance between the two men. His anger at himself had changed to compassion for the other. He couldn't hear the answer, but could see the pain and anguish on the man's face. Looking over at the farmhouse, he asked, "What happened to the owner?"

"I killed him," answered the man in a dead wooden voice. Standing to face Sid, he said, "It didn't help. I don't feel any better."

"It never does," Sid said. He climbed off his horse and took out his knife. He said, "Help me cut her down. We'll bury her."

"Why should you care about her?"

"Her name was Sandra Lawyer from Cassandra. She's one of the reasons I'm here," Sid said. He had known that he was in the area where she was reported to be, but the slave revolt had foiled his search.

"You knew her before all this happened?"

"I had heard that she was in trouble," Sid answered. He didn't mention that he just knew of her before this happened. He was supposed to get to know her a lot better after it was over. Shaking his head, he found it incredible that any one would risk so much to have a child.

Peterson and Masterson rode up to Sid at a leisurely pace. One look at Sid and both men knew that he was upset. Concerned, Masterson asked, "What's the matter?"

"If you want to help, get two shovels. My friend and I have some business to take care of before I do anything else," Sid answered gesturing over to the other man with a tilt of his head. The man acknowledged the others with the barest nod of his head. Peterson turned on his horse and rode away to get two shovels.

Masterson just stared at Sid wondering why he needed a shovel. The explanation came when Sid and the man went over to the x- frame to cut down the body. The man supported Sandra's body while Sid cut the ropes. The man had tears in his eyes. By the time they had her free, Peterson had returned with two shovels.

Together Sid and the man worked to dig a hole. It was hard backbreaking work. The ground was hard and rocky. The shovels were dull and made of wood. The pair worked silently. Although Sid would have dug the hole deeper, the other man stopped and said, "It is deep enough. I will cover the grave with stones."

"As you wish," Sid said allowing the man to show his personal sign of respect for Sandra. He knew that the moment the body was covered that it would return to Cassandra. He thought about how the women there would react to her death. Frowning, he knew that it would be a day of mourning in Cassandra.

"Hold on," Masterson said. He went up to the burnt out farmhouse and looked around. Scattered across the yard were clothes, items of furniture, and other objects that had been pulled out of the house before it was burnt. It took him several minutes, but he finally found a sheet. Part of it was burned, but there was enough left to cover the body. He brought it back to Sid.

Accepting the sheet from Masterson, Sid said, "Thank you."

Sid wrapped the body in the sheet. Working together, the two men laid the body in the shallow grave, Sid stepped back to give the man a chance to say farewell. It took another twenty minutes to fill the grave in with dirt. Once that was done, Sid stepped back to allow the man to build a cairn over the grave.

While the man worked, Sid examined his companion in grief. The man had a strong body that was used to hard labor. Well defined muscles bulged when he picked up the heavy stones. His back was lined with scars from a whip. In the uncertain light, he realized that some of the stripes on the man's back were fresh. It was obvious that the man had not accepted being a slave very easily. He worked with a slow measured pace that finished the job quickly.

Finished with the burial, Sid stepped over to the cairn and said, "Just a moment of silence to remember her."

The two men stood beside grave with heads down and in silent consideration of the woman they had buried. Masterson watched from a distance wondering why Sid was wasting so much time with a simple burial. He could see that Sid was upset by the death, but they had already encountered dozens of slaves who had been killed. It was only when he recalled Gerald and his mysterious women that it started to make sense.

Stepping back from the grave, the man examined Sid for a minute. Sid waited patiently knowing that the man was making up his mind about something important to him. Coming to a decision, the man said, "My name is Fred Michelson."

"I am Sid Jones."

"Sid Jones," Fred repeated to commit the name to memory. Looking at Sid, he asked, "You are here to destroy the slavers?"

"Yes."

"What of Sandra?"

"She is one of the reasons that I'm here to destroy the slavers," Sid answered. "I noticed that you were whipped recently. Am I to understand that you got them for trying to help her?"

"Yes, sir. Three days ago I tried to get some water out here for her," Fred answered.

"She was lucky to have a man like you here for her."

"I wasn't able to help," Fred said fighting back tears.

"All we can do is to try. Success is never guaranteed," Sid said. "The heroism is in trying. The shame comes from not trying. You have no reason to be ashamed."

The man stared at Sid taking comfort in the words. For hours he had been berating himself over his inability to save her. As Sid had said, he would have to take comfort in having tried to help her. It was more than any of the other slaves had done. He looked at Sid and said, "You would have succeeded."

Feeling guilty at his failure to rescue her, he said, "What do you mean? I tried, but I was too late."

It had finally dawned on Masterson that Sid knew the woman that he had just buried. He leaned forward to listen to the conversation hoping that he would learn more about Sid's background. Peterson grabbed his arm and said, "Leave them alone. It is a personal matter."

Masterson glared at his colleague but sat up straight on his horse. With a calm hand, he backed the horse away from the pair of men. Peterson backed his horse away to give the men privacy.

"You are one of the heroes she was sure would rescue her?" Fred asked in a whisper and leaning forward so that only Sid would hear.

"Yes, I am," Sid answered wondering what Sandra had told the man.

"Where are you from?" he asked staring Sid in the eye.

Sid considered the question and finally answered, "Earth."

Sandra had told Fred of Heroes from a distant land called Earth. These were men of the highest quality with characters that were the envy of all men around them. They would risk their lives to rescue what she called Damsels in Distress. All the Damsel had to do was survive long enough for the hero to arrive. Seeing how the other men around him deferred to Sid convinced him that he was dealing with one of those Heroes.

"I swear my life in service to you, sir," Fred said holding a fist over his heart and bending over at the waist.

"I'll not abuse your oath of service," Sid said giving the appropriate response. That a man who had just been freed would commit to a life of servitude was overwhelming. He held his fist over his heart and bent over at the waist. He added, "I shall ask nothing of you that I would not ask of myself."

The addition let Fred know that his oath had not been misplaced. He breathed a sigh of relief and asked, "What may I do for you?"

Masterson had only observed someone swearing that oath once in his life. It was an oath which the receiver had no choice but to accept. The man was dedicating his life in service to Sid. Even if Sid hadn't accepted, the man would have followed Sid for the rest of his life and stepped in to provide whatever services he could. Wondering what could have motivated the man to swear an oath of service; he turned to Peterson and asked, "Have you ever seen that?"

"No," Peterson answered awed by the demonstration. That was an oath that was never given lightly. It was the same as accepting indentured servitude, but without any promise of ending or personal gain.

"I've only seen it happen once," Masterson said. He looked over at Peterson and said, "I don't understand why the man swore the oath to Sid."

"I'm sure you don't. To tell the truth, I'm not sure why he did it," Peterson said. He sat back on his horse and studied the two men in front of him. He added, "That's why we'll never have a man swear such an oath to us."

"You're probably right," Masterson said shaking his head.

Ignoring the discussion that was taking place behind him, Sid said, "We'll get you a horse, Fred. I hope that you know how to ride."

"I'll learn, sir," Fred answered. Having pledged his service, he would learn whatever skill was necessary to provide the best service possible.

"Fred, I want you to call me Sid."

"Yes, sir."

Gesturing in the direction of Peterson, Sid said, "We'll be leaving in a few minutes. Go with Peterson and he will fix you up. He'll get you some clothes, a weapon, and food to eat."

"Thank you, Sid," Fred said. He bowed and backed away from Sid.

Peterson rode forward and came to a stop beside Fred. Leaning down, he said, "I'm Peterson. Come with me and I'll get you something to eat. I'll get you some clothes and weapons once we catch up to our supplies."

After watching Fred follow Peterson, Sid turned to look at Masterson. He said, "Let's get to the top of the hill and check out what's going on."

"We were going to do that two hours ago," Masterson said with a wry grin. He understood why Sid had stopped to bury that woman, but he wasn't happy about the delay.

"There's no rush," Sid said with a sigh. Looking over at his adviser, he added, "We'll be riding at the back of our retreating army anyway."

"Yes, Sid," Masterson answered. After having served with Gerald he had not expected anything else.

From the hilltop, Sid examined the surrounding area. It was a disaster. Slave quarters, fields, and outbuildings were burning. Tools, food stores, and other necessities were going up in flames. Once the fires burned out, the rioters would find themselves without provisions for the winter. The only places for them to go would be slaver controlled lands or back towards the areas they had already freed.

"We've been careful to leave communities behind us that are provisioned well enough to survive winter and sufficiently armed to remain free," Sid said shaking his head. He wondered what would happen when the rioters turned towards those communities.

"These folks are going to die," Masterson said. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say that was the nature of war.

"They are going to get some of those communities we've left behind us killed as well," Sid said.

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to take that into account in our plans going forward," Masterson said looking over at Sid with a slight smile. He knew Sid well enough to know that he was going to have to put together a campaign that would spare those towns even if it slowed the rest of the war down.

"What does that mean?" Sid asked with narrowed eyes. Although the frequency in which Masterson ignored the human cost of war had diminished, there were still occasions when he seemed oblivious to it.

"It means that we'll have an army to fight. If we're fighting that army in the right way, then your precious communities will be a little safer," Masterson said. He liked the idea of finally facing a real army rather than a loose consortium of landholders.

"I'm glad to see that you are starting to see the world my way," Sid said with relief. Looking at the fires in the land below them, Sid pointed to an area and said, "The fire has spread to the woods."

"It'll start spreading faster now," Masterson said. A wildfire was nothing to take lightly. One fire like this could destroy a huge area, killing everything in its path. This fire would burn uncontrolled until the wind shifted direction and forced it back on areas already consumed by flame. He felt it was a shame that the wind was blowing towards them rather than farms still held by slavers.

"Just like the slave revolt," Sid said with a frown. This revolt threw all of his plans into disarray. He pointed to the next hill and said, "You can see them starting to burn the farm over there."



-------

Chapter 11


Sid sat down on the bench of a table that stood in front of the fireplace. They had just arrived at Weavertown and had selected the Inn to serve as a meeting place. Although Masterson wanted to sleep in the Inn, Sid said that they would sleep in their tents like the men.

He was soon joined by Olaf and Barson. The two young men were smiling as if they had some great secret that they were just dying to tell. He asked, "And what mischief are you two planning?"

Barson laughed at the suggestion that they would do something mischievous. He winked at Olaf and answered, "Well, it's like this. Olaf and I were eating a chicken... I have to mention that it just happened to fall dead at our feet while we were taking a walk through the woods."

"I'm sure that you had nothing to do with its untimely death," Sid said with a smile.

"That's right," Barson said. "So we were eating this poor deceased chicken by our campfire when a strange and twisted thought came to us."

Nodding his head in mock seriousness, Olaf said, "You know how infrequently Barson thinks, so any thought that comes to him is surely strange."

"And we are all waiting for Olaf to have his first thought, but I fear that I will be old and gray before that day," Barson replied nudging his friend in the side.

"But between the pair of us we managed to work out one thought that wasn't too twisted," Olaf said with a grin.

Sid laughed at the pair. He said, "I fear that the suspense is about to kill me. So tell me this strange and not too twisted idea that you have."

"Well, I noticed that this building was once an Inn," Barson said gesturing to the room in which they were seated.

"And you know that Barson once worked in an Inn," Olaf said gesturing to his friend.

"So we thought that perhaps we could open it as an Inn for a few nights and give some of the troops a chance to eat in relative comfort," Barson said.

"But I said that there were too many troops for that," Olaf said with a wink in Barson's direction.

"You don't say," Sid said.

"Tis true, he did say that. So here's where the thought got a little twisted. Somehow, it came to us that we could hold a lottery to determine who can spend the evening at the Inn," Barson said.

Sid was about to make a comment, but Olaf held up a hand. He said, "But then I said that it was not fair to the men for us profit from them like that. So I said that we could let you select the men as a reward for good service."

"That idea is indeed strange and slightly twisted. Pray tell me, who would work in this Inn?" Sid asked getting into the manner of their dialog.

"Alas, this is as far as our thought has gotten. I'm sure that Barson would love to work extra," Olaf said with a grin.

"I'm sure that Olaf wouldn't mind carrying drinks to and fro," Barson said.

Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as if concentrating, Sid said, "My poor brain is having difficulties dealing with so much information."

The other two young men adopted similar poses. Deadpan, Olaf said, "Yes, it does hurt the head to think so much."

"There are beds here in the Inn to consider," Sid said glancing over at Barson.

Breaking out of character, Olaf said, "I thought that you, Masterson, Peterson, and Connor would be staying here."

"Nope. We stay in our tents, just like the rest of the army," Sid answered. He sat back and said, "I like the idea, but I don't like handing out favors to men who've come to my notice. There are others who have done deeds just as worthy, but did them where I could not observe it."

"Oh, well it was just an idea," Barson said.

"It is a good idea. Why don't we hold a lottery for the chance to be here?" Sid asked.

"I thought you would be upset by having them pay for a chance to stay here," Olaf said with a frown.

"Who said that we had to charge?" Sid asked looking first at Olaf and then at Barson.

The two young men pointed at each other and then burst out laughing. Olaf finally answered, "I just assumed."

"Same here," Barson said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"So each man gets one chance in the lottery. Those who win get to eat here. Amongst those who eat here, we hold another lottery to determine who gets to spend the night in a bed," Sid said.

"Don't forget the women, sir," Olaf said. Shaking his head, he said, "It won't be any fun if none of the women have a chance to come."

"Who should set up the lottery?" Sid asked.

Barson and Olaf looked at each other for a second. Olaf winked and said, "There's three of us here, but two of us already have jobs to do."

Fred stepped forward and said, "I will do that."

"No, Fred. I will do it. Olaf is right. It is a job that I should do," Sid said with a nod of his head. It would be good for morale and his involvement would assure the men that the lottery was fair.

Although he had sworn himself to Sid's service four days earlier, Fred had not yet had a chance to perform any kind of service. Each attempt had been derailed. At first, Sid had made sure that the man had treatment for the wounds on his back. Then Sid had trained him by showing him how things were done in camp. Fred asked, "Is there nothing I can do for you?"

Sensing Fred's increasing frustration, Sid said, "Yes. You can run and get Connor for me. I need him to organize the men to participate in the lottery. Once you have found him, I think that you and I should have a bite to eat."

"Yes, Sid," Fred said relieved at having something to do even if it was little more than running simple errands.

Once Fred was gone, Olaf said, "I think that's the first time I've seen him smile."

The men and women of camp were standing about in groups of a hundred talking excitedly about the lottery. One group at a time came forward to where Sid was standing with two urns. One at a time, a person would step up to Sid and draw a bead from the urn. After checking the bead, it would be dropped into the second urn.

The lucky ones, those who drew a black bead, headed over to the Inn while the others stayed behind. The winners usually did a little victory dance before dropping their bead into the second urn. The losers just shook their heads and took comfort in the fact that they would have another chance the next night.

Between groups, Sid would pour the contents of his urn into the second urn. Fred would hand him the second urn and call forth the next group. Sid was sure to let each loser know that maybe their luck would be better the next night. He congratulated each winner.

Standing to the side, Connor was watching the proceedings with the other advisors. He looked over at Masterson and asked, "Can you believe it?"

"Yes I can," Masterson answered in a grumpy voice. "He gives our rooms to them."

Peterson said, "It was Olaf and Barson who came up with the idea."

"It figures," Masterson said. He was tired of camping and wanted nothing more than one night's rest in a soft bed.

"Do you see how the people are responding to him?" Connor asked thinking that Masterson missed the point.

"Yes, I do. They will follow him anywhere," Masterson said.

Peterson said, "The men will think better of all of us when they see that we are eating around our campfires and sleeping in our tents."

"There is that," Masterson said. Turning away, he said, "I really wanted to sleep in a bed for a change."

"We've got four thousand men and women that feel the same way," Connor said. He looked over at Masterson and said, "Of course, they don't feel that they can demand it like some of us can."

"And some of us who thought we could demand it, have discovered that we can't," Masterson said. He realized that the men would be highly motivated to fight for Sid. That difference in motivation could mean the difference between winning and losing. He added, "At least some good is going to come out of it."

"What's that?"

"We're going to have the best army in this war," Masterson answered.

"Where are you going?" Peterson asked when Masterson started walking off.

Smiling back at Connor, Masterson answered, "I've got to figure out how we're going to fight the army that the slavers will send out to put down the rebellion. The best army still needs the best plans to win the battle."

It had taken hours, but Sid finally finished running the lottery. After handing the urns to Fred, a young woman approached Sid. He recognized her as one of the women who had started back in the Jones Citadel. She was a very popular young woman around camp. It took him a moment to recall her name. Turning to her, he asked, "Hello Mandy Harrisdaughter. What can I do for you?"

Flustered by the fact that Sid remembered her name, Mandy stuttered for a moment trying to recover her composure. After several false starts, she managed to say, "I was wondering, sir, if the men would like entertainment at the Inn?"

Remembering the few times that he had heard her sing, Sid said, "I'm sure that they would love to hear you sing. Why don't you go over there and let Barson know that you are the entertainment for the evening? I'm sure that he can squeeze you in a table there."

"Thank you, sir," she said. She'd sing her heart out for the chance to eat at a table for a change.

"I'll let Connor know that you are going to be there for the next few nights," Sid said.

With Olaf serving food and watered wine in the Inn, the atmosphere inside quickly turned into a party. The young man joked and told stories that held his fellow soldiers laughing in tears and spellbound. When Mandy arrived, the mood became very festive indeed. The young woman sang three songs at a time and then rested while the others talked. When there were lulls in the conversation, she would get up and sing three more songs.

Rather than disturb the flow of the party, Sid sent Fred to check out what was going on inside the Inn. Fred returned with a glowing report that all were having a good time. He had observed one toast to Sid given by one of the attendees and was sure that there had been others.

Morning found Sid seated beside Connor and Masterson with Fred seated behind Sid. The men were finishing breakfast. Once they had finished with the food, Sid said, "Gentlemen, we have a problem. This uprising has thrown our plans into the trash pile."

"You can say that again," Masterson said. He'd been thinking about what to do and had come to the conclusion that they just didn't have enough men to fight this war. If the enemy brought ten thousand troops into the area, they would be out numbered five to one on the battlefield.

"So far, we've been liberating slaves and growing our army in the hope that it would become large enough to engage the slavers directly. Their army will be seeking us out and will want to engage us in direct battles," Sid said. He looked around the campfire and saw that the others were nodding their heads in agreement with his assessment. Turning to Masterson, Sid said, "Tell me how a head- on battle usually occurs."

Masterson frowned at the question. It was almost too basic to answer, but figured that Sid had a point to make. He answered, "It depends on whether it is a horde or a disciplined fighting force."

"Let's assume that our enemy is a disciplined fighting force," Sid said. He suspected that it was going to be a lot more disciplined than Masterson could imagine. Over the next few months, he was going to have to turn his army into a very effective fighting force.

"Well, the soldiers will line up on opposite sides of a field. First archers will send forth volleys of arrows at the other side. Then one side or the other will charge the other side. Cavalry will be brought in using a flanking maneuver," Masterson said painting the battlefield with a very coarse brush.

"We don't have archers," Sid said.

"That's true," Masterson replied.

Reaching behind him, Sid grabbed a standard leather shield. It was round and about two feet in diameter. Holding up the shield, he said, "This won't do much to protect the men from arrows."

"It's not that bad. You typically lose one person per forty arrows in the air," Masterson said. "Four people are wounded per forty arrows."

"That's too many," Sid said. Facing two hundred archers would mean five deaths and twenty wounded per volley. They could expect about four or five volleys before engagement.

"What do you suggest?"

Picking up a stick, Sid drew a rectangle on the ground. As he worked, he said, "I want a rectangular shield. It should be three quarters of a man in height and an arm in width."

"That will be too heavy," Connor said.

"Use boiled leather on a wooden frame," Sid said.

"That would cut down the weight," Connor said thinking about the difference between a wooden shield and a boiled leather shield.

"It will be bulky in the battlefield," Masterson said trying to picture how a shield like that would work. He couldn't imagine running across a battlefield trying to carry such a large shield.

"We give that shield to our spearmen since they are usually the first few lines in a defensive position. We have them stand close enough together so that when the arrows are fired, they can put their shields edge to edge. The second row of spearmen holds their shields over their heads. Our other men tuck in close and use the coverage of the third row of spearmen for protection. With a little practice, they can become a turtle and the arrows won't find a target," Sid said.

"I see what you mean," Masterson said imagining what would be the result. Nodding his head, he said, "When the enemy charges, they will be facing a wall of shields with spears sticking out at them. I like it."

"I thought you would," Sid said.

"We can also advance behind that wall of shields in a controlled march."

"That will only work on a flat battlefield. If the terrain is broken, the men can't advance together," Sid said pointing out one of the known weaknesses of the phalanx.

"You're right," Masterson said thoughtfully.

"That still doesn't help us send arrows at the enemy. We need archers."

Connor shook his head and said, "Untrained archers are pretty much useless. At most they can get off two volleys of arrows during a charge. Once the forces are joined, they have nothing to do except die. It is useless to put bows against swords at close range. They are always the first to break on the battlefield."

"We have an army of four thousand men and women. A little over two thousand of them are fighters. We can't afford to have two hundred of them standing around during a battle," Masterson said.

"Who said that they have to be full-time archers?" Sid asked with a smile. He had watched a television program that had described all of the limitations of archers in ancient armies. The trained English archers were the only truly effective archers in battle. He had thought long and hard about that television program trying to figure out what was the real problem with their use.

"What are you saying?" Masterson asked confused by Sid's question.

"I'm saying that we train everyone to fire one arrow in the direction of the enemy. Once they've fired, they drop their bow and pick up their usual weapon. That gives us over two thousand arrows in the air. Even if only one arrow out of fifty is effective, that gives us a pretty high impact."

"But the training required," Connor said.

"All they have to do is launch the arrow in the right direction," Sid said with a smile.

"That's a lot of weapons that just get dropped on the battlefield," Peterson said.

Masterson shook his head and said, "It won't work. The men will trip over the weapons in the heat of battle."

"I'm sure that you can make it work," Sid said with a smile.

"It takes a lot of skill to build a bow. There's no way that we can produce that many bows in a reasonable time," Connor said.

"Ah, that is a good objection. I suggest that we set up what is called a production line," Sid said.

"What's that?"

"That's how the women prepare the food here every night. One woman has one job that she does over and over. The result of her work is handed off to another woman who does her bit. We do the same with building the bows. One man rough cuts the wood. Another fine cuts the wood. A third glues the wood together. A fourth does the shaping and so forth," Sid answered.

Connor stared at Sid in amazement at his insight. He hadn't thought about how the kitchens functioned in that manner. He didn't know that Sid was only borrowing Henry Ford's idea for the assembly line. Nodding his head, he said, "We can do that."

Masterson said, "We'll have to stay here for a couple of weeks if we are to do everything that you are suggesting."

"Maybe not," Sid said.

"Why?"

"We have another four hundred untrained volunteers waiting for us at the town where they make the dye for clothes. I suggest that we use those people for the production line. That should be enough people to build the bows, arrows, and shields. Our trained troops can make raids while the supplies are being built up. Between raids, we have them train here," Sid answered. They would have to move the men to a location where there was plenty of wood stock.

Thoughts turning to the raids, Masterson said, "We're going to need more horses. We can only field two hundred mounted men at a time."

"That's a perfect number. Divide them up into groups of fifty. When the enemy is moving, we attack from the rear in a lightning strike. One pass through the troops and then they ride on. By the time the enemy has organized pursuit, our men are long gone," Sid said.

"We'll only get five or six enemy at a time," Masterson said. His brow wrinkled in thought while he considered what that would mean. Two or three attacks a day on a unit would whittle it down considerably. They'd have to change tactics when the enemy figured out effective ways to counter the attacks, but that was to be expected. Nodding his head, he said, "We'll do it that way."

"Good," Sid said. He was going to wait to suggest having the men use lances rather than their swords.

The group of men worked out the details over the rest of the day. The planning session was at times heated as problems were posed and solutions forged. By the end of the day, each man knew what needed to be done. They broke in time for Sid to run the lottery once again.



-------

Chapter 12


For three months, Sid's forces harassed the enemy army with lightning raids. Each individual raid was not all that effective in whittling down the enemy, but the cumulative effect was devastating. The slavers sent out re-enforcements who occupied fixed emplacements. Sid responded by resuming raids on individual farms and liberating slaves. The slavers would send troops to investigate each raid. Sid made sure that they were cut down in ambushes staged by the spearmen with their bows.

Looking over the farm that they had just liberated, Sid noticed a face that he recognized amongst the slaves. Turning to his ever present shadow, Sid said, "Fred, let's go down there. I see a friend of mine."

"Masterson said that you were not to expose yourself," Fred said looking over at Sid. Since pledging his service, Fred had not been sorry once. Sandra Lawyer had been correct in describing the character of a Hero.

"And just how often do I listen to Masterson when it comes to what I should or should not do?" Sid asked with a grin.

"Not often enough," the man answered with a corresponding grin.

"Let's get down there."

The two men rode side by side to the farmhouse. Pulling up on the reins so that the horse stopped beside the man he had recognized, Sid said, "Fancy meeting you here."

"I heard that you were in the area so I thought I would become a slave for a while and wait for you," the man said holding up his arms and showing Sid the chains on them.

"That's a novel way to arrange a meeting," Sid said with a grin. He took in the red raw marks around the man's wrists as a result of the chains. It would leave scars that would last the rest of his life. He noticed that there were no scars on his back.

"I'm glad to see you, Sid. For a while there I was beginning to get worried," the man said without sounding as if he had been worried at all.

"Gregor, it is good to see you. I have need for a man of your talents," Sid said while dismounting. Turning to Fred, he said,

"Fred, I need someone who can remove these chains."

"Yes, sir," Fred said with a smile. He turned his horse and rode off.

"Who is he?" Gregor asked.

"That is Fred," Sid answered. He looked around and tried to recall the name of the man who worked for Gregor. It took a few seconds of searching his memory, but he was able to recall it. He asked,

"Where is your man, Derek? I don't see him around here."

"He was sold elsewhere," Gregor answered with anger. The greatest degradation had been when the slavers had separated the two of them. Not only was Derek to watch out for him, he was to watch out for Derek. They both had failed in their duties and that made Gregor very angry.

"Do you know if he's in the area?" Sid asked understanding the source of the man's anger. He would be angry if he were separated from a travel companion in the same manner.

"Should be," Gregor answered while shaking the chains that bound his wrists. "We were auctioned off about a day's march from here.

I'd say that he's within a two days march of here."

"Do you know who bought him?" Sid asked feeling that he could help Gregor free his man.

"I don't know his name, but I can describe him," Gregor answered with a curt nod of his head. He was pleased that the first thing Sid thought of was helping him find Derek. It spoke highly of the young man's character.

"I suggest that we have a little talk with your former owner. He just might be able to give us the information we need," Sid said.

Fred returned and waited to be recognized. He hadn't been there for more than five seconds when Sid asked, "What is it Fred?"

"If the gentleman will come with me, I'll have those chains off of him. The blacksmith won't carry his anvil out here," Fred said.

Curious, Gregor asked, "Did you ask him to do that?"

"Yes, sir. He laughed at me," Fred said without embarrassment.

"I'll come along with you. If you can't bring the anvil to the man, then bring the man to the anvil," Gregor said with a grin.

"Thank you for understanding, sir," Fred said.

Chuckling at the ironic tone in Fred's voice, Sid and Gregor walked towards the shed where the blacksmith equipment was located. Gregor held up his wrists and said, "I shall remember this day for the rest of my life."

"How long were you enslaved?"

"Six weeks," Gregor answered.

"Why the chains?" Sid asked.

"They figured that I was a little too proud to stay a slave," Gregor answered. Throughout his ordeal, he had never begged or compromised his honor.

"Why didn't they whip you?"

"I did everything they told me to do," Gregor answered. With a feral grin, he added, "I was just waiting for the day when they took these chains off. That was the day they were all going to die."

"I'm impressed," Sid said. It spoke of a kind of pride that wasn't the flashy type, but the subtle type. He could take anything so long as it was part of his long term plan. He grinned and said, "You may have been a slave in circumstance, but you were never their slave.

Not even for a single day."

"That's right," Gregor said glad that Sid understood what he had done.

They reached the blacksmith shed. It took the blacksmith two minutes to remove the chains from around Gregor's wrists.

Bending down, Gregor picked up the chain and said, "I'm going to keep this, if you don't mind."

"Why?" the blacksmith asked. Although there was a fortune in metal in the chain, none of the other chained slaves ever wanted to see the chain again.

"I'm going to have a sword made of it," Gregor said. Holding up the chain, he said, "Enough of my blood has run over this metal that I have a claim over it. It shall be a good strong sword and I will use it to kill men who would do to others what they tried to do to me."

Smiling at the use to which Gregor would put his chains, Sid slapped Gregor on the back and said, "Well said. Will you accept a sword to use until that weapon gets forged? You have a friend to rescue."

"Yes, my friend. I will accept a sword from you," Gregor said with a smile.

"Fred, will you arrange for a horse and weapons for Gregor. Let him choose his sword from our stock," Sid said knowing without looking that Fred was standing behind him.

"Yes sir. What of his wounds?"

Looking over at Gregor and seeing his irritation at the possible delay that treating his wounds would mean, Sid said, "I believe that he is anxious to save a friend."

"You know me too well," Gregor said as he hung the chains around his neck. Turning to Fred, he said, "Lead on, my good man.

There is blood to spill and we are wasting time gossiping like women around the town well."

Fred didn't bother to answer. He didn't take orders from Gregor, he served Sid. After receiving a gesture from Sid, he headed off to find Peterson and to relay Sid's orders. Gregor walked beside him.

After a few steps, he asked, "How long have you been a member of Sid's army?"

"I'm not in his army," Fred answered looking over at Gregor.

Seeing the puzzled expression, he said, "I swore an oath of service to him."

"Ah, you are both lucky men," Gregor said with a knowing nod.

"Both?" Fred asked in surprise. No one had said that to him before this.

"You couldn't have found a better man to give such an oath. He will care you for you as if you were family. From what I've seen, I think you will serve him well," Gregor said.

"Thank you," Fred said knowing that he had been complimented.

"I'm impressed by this troop. They moved in, took control, and had us organized in short order," Gregor said.

"I'll be sure to let Sid know that you approve of his army," Fred said.

"You mean this troop?" Gregor asked.

"No, this is his army. He's the leader of all the forces between the Black and Green Rivers."

Shaking his head, Gregor laughed aloud. Seeing the puzzled expression on Fred's face, he said, "I met Sid a year ago and he only had a stick for a weapon. A year later, he has an army. He's definitely a most impressive young man."

Three hours after his rescue, Gregor was seated on a horse at the edge of a field. He eyes sought out Derek. Beside him, Sid was talking with the man who would lead the raid on the farm. The discussion was short and to the point. The man rode off once a plan was established. Sid looked over at Gregor and said, "Five minutes."

"It is hard waiting here," Gregor said understanding why he wasn't incorporated into the raiding party. One didn't insert someone into such an operation a few minutes before it began.

"I know."

After five minutes passed, four groups of riders entered the field rushing at a full gallop. Each group was composed of pairs of riders, one following the other. The first rider would knock an overseer down by kicking out as his horse raced past the overseer.

Once down, the second rider would jump from his horse onto the man. Before the overseer had much chance to react, he was tied wrist to wrist to foot with a small length of rope. It reminded Sid of a calf roping contest at a Rodeo.

If the first pair of riders missed the overseer, then another pair of riders would swing by to take down the overseer. It was quick and efficient when the overseer was armed only with a whip. If the overseer had a weapon, then the first pair of riders would veer off while waving a hand in the air. The second pair of riders would use a lance to kill the overseer.

The other riders went on to the farmhouse and other outbuildings, taking out overseers as they encountered them. If there were any doubts about the identity of a person, they would be subdued.

There would be enough time to sort out the good guys from the bad guys once everything was over. The slaves were more than happy to point out the overseers and owners.

Watching the action, Gregor said, "They are fast."

"Yes, we've been doing this for almost six months now," Sid said.

He pointed to one of the men chasing down a fleeing overseer. He said, "The runners like that one don't stand a chance. Occasionally, one of overseers will lie down on the field and then sneak off. That can be a problem for us because they'll alert the other farms."

"How many raids like this do you perform?" Gregor asked watching the men control the situation around the farm.

"One group of fifty men can do three farms a day. We get about seventy five new volunteers a day," Sid said.

"How do you handle that many new men in your army?" Gregor asked.

"We've set up some manufacturing sites behind us. Most of the folks will head there. Some will be trained to manufacture the goods that we need. Others will be trained as guards. A few will be trained to fight," Sid answered.

"What kind of goods?"

"Weapons, clothes, wagons, tents, and food," Sid answered. He looked over at Gregor and said, "When we are done with this war, this whole area will be exporting goods to the rest of Chaos."

"What about the rest of the slaves?"

"We partition the land amongst those who wish to stay. Most of them will provide us with fresh goods from the land," Sid answered. His efforts had turned into a giant machine that was growing larger every day.

"How big is your army?"

"We're at close to nine thousand fighters now," Sid answered.

Seeing the expression of surprise, he added, "The slavers have now brought out close to twenty-five thousand to fight us."

"Three to one? You don't stand a chance."

"Hey, it started out at five to one," Sid said.

"At least you are making progress," Gregor said with a wry grin.

The man in charge of the raid waved his arms. Seeing it, Sid said,

"They are ready for us."

The pair of men rode to the main house where everyone was gathered. Standing in the middle of the freed slaves was Derek. He moved towards Gregor as soon as he saw him and was almost killed for his effort. The men didn't like it when someone started to move towards Sid in an unexpected fashion. Sid shouted, "Hold it.

He's the one we were looking for."

Gregor had already slipped out of his saddle and was moving over to Derek. The two men met halfway and hugged; breaking to clasp shoulders. Choked with emotion, Derek said, "I knew you wouldn't forget me."

"Ah, it looks like you had a rough time," Gregor said. It was obvious to him that the other man had suffered the whip.

Derek looked over at Gregor for a second taking in the relatively good condition of the man and then said, "You were just waiting for your chance to kill them, weren't you?"

"That's right, my friend," Gregor said.

Seated astride his horse, Sid was scanning the rest of the freed slaves. Towards the back of the mass was an attractive young woman. She looked familiar to him, but she wasn't one of the Damsels that he was there to rescue. Climbing off his horse, he made his way to her trying to recall where he could have met her before. He realized that she was one of the Damsels in Chaos, but hadn't been taken as a slave at the time he had left. It didn't matter; she had become a Damsel in Distress and, hence, could be saved according to the rules.

Approaching her, Sid said, "Ma'am, I recognize you as being from Cassandra, but I fear I do not know your name."

The woman looked at Sid with wide eyes when she realized that her rescue had been arranged by a Hero. In a way, she had been of mixed minds concerning being freed. On one hand, she was very happy to be free. On the other, she would have to experience more distress before being rescued. Learning that he was a Hero brought tears to her eyes. Licking her lips, she said, "I'm pleased to meet you."

"I'm Sid Jones."

"Sid Jones? Nephew of Gerald Jones?" she asked getting excited.

She knew of him by reputation and it was a very good reputation.

Checking his package out with a quick glance to his crotch, she felt a wave of excitement. She was very pleased with his overall appearance, but that bulge in his pants held promises that she was sure would be delivered.

"Yes," Sid said noticing where she was looking and feeling a little uncomfortable by the direct attention to his private parts. She was definitely a woman of Cassandra.

"I'm Laura Author of Cassandra," she said feeling a thrill through her whole body. She realized that she had met the man who would father her child. Motherhood was awaiting her. The months of slavery now took a different meaning for her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Laura Author of Cassandra," Sid said with a smile. Although she was standing there wearing rags, hair hacked off unevenly, and without makeup, it was obvious that she was a very beautiful woman.

"The pleasure is all mine," she said licking her lips.

Without turning around, Sid said, "Fred, could you find a horse for her? She'll be coming with us."

"Yes, sir," Fred said wondering about the woman. He felt that Sid was dishonoring the memory of Sandra.

Without looking at Fred, Sid could almost feel the discomfort that Fred was feeling. He said, "She's a countrywoman of Sandra."

"Ah," Fred said relaxing a little. He looked over the woman for a few seconds and then turned to get a horse for her.

"You have seen Sandra Lawyer?"

"I was too late to save her," Sid said looking down at the ground.

Even after so many months had passed, his failure to rescue her pained him.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," she said.

"I will be taking you back to one of our rear bases where you will be safe. There are still two more Damsels to rescue," Sid said.

The news that they would not be returning to Crossroads immediately was a major disappointment. The idea that she would have to share her Hero bothered her even more. She couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice when she said, "I guess that will have to do."

"This slavery problem has been spreading like wildfire. All of the available Heroes are here to rescue almost a quarter of the Damsels on Chaos," Sid said. Shaking his head, he said, "There are more Damsels In Distress than Heroes."

"Oh my," Laura said in horror. She had not realized the scope of the problem. Concerned that it might mean a suspension of the normal rules, she asked, "You'll still expect your reward from me, won't you?"

"Of course," Sid said amazed once again at the single minded focus of the women from Cassandra.

"Thank Goodness," she said with real relief.

Leading Laura to where Gregor and Derek were talking, Sid said,

"We'll get you some medical care and food. We can't stay too long since we have to move out of here before the slavers arrive to investigate."

"What about these people? You can't just leave them here defenseless," Derek said gesturing to his fellow sufferers of misery. The idea that he would leave them behind without protection left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Don't worry. We will be taking care of the slavers," Sid said with a smile that chilled the other man.

"How?"

"Well, a slaver patrol is about an hour's ride from here. We have about two hundred men between them and us," Sid answered.

Looking over at Gregor, he said, "They won't reach here."

"Why do we need to leave?"

"I want you to see the engagement," Sid answered looking at Gregor. Turning to look at Fred, he was surprised to find the man standing there holding two horses.

Seeing the look of surprise on Sid's face, Fred said, "I took it upon myself to fetch horses for your friends."

"Thank you, Fred," Sid said.



-------

Chapter 13


Putting his hands on the saddle horn, Sid leaned forward and looked down the road as if searching for something. He could hear the sounds of a column of men on horseback with the shuffle of men marching behind them. Turning his head to look at Gregor, Sid said, "They are coming."

"I can hear them," Gregor said looking around. He asked, "Shouldn't we get into the woods before they come around the bend in the road?"

"No, we'll wait for them here," Sid said with a wink of his eye.

"I don't want to end up being a slave again," Derek said looking down the road with a frown. He looked around at the small party waiting in the road. There were a dozen of them -- Sid, Gregor, Fred, himself, and eight men at arms who Connor had ordered to guard Sid from harm. From the sounds, it was clear that they were about to face a hundred men.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Sid said looking over at Derek. He added, "They won't make us slaves, they'll kill us. It will probably be a horrible and painful death."

When Derek turned pale, Fred chuckled and said, "Sid, sometimes you are so reassuring."

Sid chuckled and said, "Wait and watch. We're the distraction."

The head of the column came around the corner and held up his hand to get the troops behind to stop. He stared at Sid trying to make sense of the handful of men blocking the road. Two men rode up to the man at the front of the column. The discussion was short and heated.

Sid leaned over to Derek and said, "They are debating about rushing us or having a parley."

"What if they chose a parley?" Derek asked.

"It's too late for that. Half of the men behind them are about to be dead," Sid answered even as shouts broke out down the road. The shouts grew loud and then started to die off. Sid listened to the sounds and said, "There goes the other half."

"How do you know?" Gregor asked looking at Sid.

"The shouting has stopped," Sid answered watching the three men down the road. The men turned their horses and rushed around the corner to investigate the noises.

A man slipped into view from the woods and waved to Sid. Kicking his horse, Sid said, "Let's go see how many prisoners we have."

"We were just down there. I didn't see his troops," Derek said to Gregor wondering what had happened around the corner. The two men realized Sid was halfway to the corner and kicked their horses to get them moving.

Gregor pulled back on the reins when he finally was able to see where the ambush had taken place. Half of the bushes that had bordered the forest were lying on the ground. Bending down, he examined the bush and realized that it was actually a bush tied to a very large shield. Looking up, he asked, "What is this?"

"Camouflaged shields," Sid answered with a grin. Climbing off his horse, he picked up the shield and squatted behind it. From the front it looked like any other green bush that grew along side the road. The slight breeze hid any movement of the shield.

"That really does look like a bush," Gregor commented.

Sid pushed the shield forward to reveal that he was behind it holding a bow. Looking over at Gregor, he said, "The man in this position would fire one arrow and then lift the shield back into place. From the edge of the woods across the road, a man would drop his shield and fire an arrow once the troops have turned to take care of the initial attackers. Those that go after the first set of attackers find that they are facing a forest of spears coming out from behind these bushes and arrows falling on their backs. Those that go after the second set of attackers only have to deal with the spears."

Dropping the bow to the ground, Sid stood up. Stepping forward, he said, "Once the column has been broken into small groups, our men come out and take them down at a three to one advantage."

"Nice," Gregor said looking over the devastation of the battlefield. Sid's men were dispatching the terminally wounded slavers and placing the bodies in a line beside the road. The others were bandaged and herded to one area where they were held under guard.

Horses, weapons, and supplies were quickly collected. Less than ten minutes had passed since the attack and the area was almost clear of any sign of the attack other than the row of bodies. Derek watched and asked, "What will you do with the prisoners?"

"We'll question them and then send them to the rear as indentured servants," Sid said.

"Isn't that slavery of a different kind?" Derek asked despite the fact that it was a common way of dealing with prisoners during war. It was just after his experience as a slave, he was exceptionally sensitive to losing control over his life.

"In a way, but it is just for the duration of the war," Sid answered. He had thought about setting up prison camps, but that required more resources than he had to spare. The common practice of a limited indentured servitude was the only way he could see to deal with the numbers of prisoners that he expected.

The man in charge of the raid noticed Sid and started walking towards where he was standing. Gregor pointed to the man before he asked, "Who is that?"

"That's Hunter. He's one of our young leaders. I'm planning on promoting him to command a thousand man brigade," Sid answered. Shifting in his saddle, Sid watched the man approach. He recalled when Hunter's father had requested that his sons be allowed to join Sid's army back at the Jones Citadel. His brother, Sneak, was one of the best scouts in the entire army. Both men were a credit to their father.

On reaching him, Hunter said, "We had one death and four wounded. The enemy had seventy four dead and thirty one wounded. We captured their leader. He is a Colonel in the Slaver Army."

"We'll have to question him. He's the highest ranking man we've captured," Sid said thinking about the intelligence they could get from the man.

Puzzled by the rank, Gregor looked at Sid and asked, "What's a Colonel?"

"It is a high rank in the army we're fighting," Sid answered while distracted by some very nasty thoughts. He couldn't help wondering what such a high level officer was doing there.

"You don't look happy. What's the matter?" Gregor asked thinking that they had a stroke of luck.

"It would be the same as having Hunter, here, leading a patrol of ten men. It is way beneath his command level," Sid answered thoughtfully. Turning to Hunter, he said, "Have some men take him back to River Camp."

"Yes, sir," Hunter said recognizing that he had been dismissed. He walked away to task someone with the job.

"I don't like it when an officer in the enemy army isn't acting his rank," Sid said.

Looking at Sid with a wry grin on his face, Gregor asked, "So what are you doing here?"

Sid laughed at the question and said, "Point taken."

Gregor went over to where the bodies were being laid out. Each man was wearing a common uniform. That practice was exceptionally rare in Chaos. Usually armies were comprised of mercenaries who wore their own clothes. Normally the only group that ever wore something that looked like a uniform was a city guard and they were a permanent force of men. He had seen the uniform several times when he was first taken as a prisoner, but it was only now that the full significance was dawning on him. Squatting down beside one of the bodies and looking up at Sid, he asked, "Do they all wear uniforms?"

"Yes, this is a permanent standing army," Sid answered.

"You say you are up against twenty thousand or so troops?" Gregor asked beginning to understand fully the scope of the war that Sid was fighting.

"I estimate the full size of the army to be around a hundred thousand," Sid answered.

The significance of that statement was not lost on Gregor. Usually each city guard was supported by taxes received from fifty locals. To have a standing army of a hundred thousand required a significant proportion of the tax money went to the army. It wasn't just the cost of paying the men. It was also the cost of outfitting them, housing, and feeding them. He figured that housing them would require between five thousand and ten thousand buildings. Looking over at Sid, he said, "I've never heard of a standing army of even a hundredth that size."

"Impressive accomplishment, isn't it?" Sid asked. It had taken him a long time to realize just how difficult it was to support an army of that size in a culture that had only limited sources of iron. Chaos was basically an agrarian society in which the productivity of individual farms was barely above subsistence level.

"You're going to have to start destroying their supporting infrastructure. At that size, I imagine it is pretty fragile," Gregor said. Trying to assure that food, clothes, materials, and money flowed to that many troops had to be a logistical nightmare.

"Our first job was to take out the men who were turning entire towns into slaves. We've stopped the raids along a front that is almost eight weeks march in length. Our next job was to start growing our army by freeing slaves. Now we're engaging their army."

"It's going to take a lot of engagements like this to get their numbers down," Gregor commented.

"We've been striking small groups of them with engagements like this one. We're hitting them five and six times a day across the front. At first they sent out ten men units, but now they are up to a hundred. They are pulling back into fixed positions. The only time they leave them is to engage us. These engagements are getting to be more and more like full scale battles. It wouldn't surprise me if we don't start facing five hundred man brigades before long," Sid said.

Derek shook his head at the thought of a thousand men on a battlefield fighting it out. This engagement had been an ambush. Good planning, surprise, and ruthlessness had won the battle before it even began. He couldn't help but wonder how Sid would fare in a head to head battle. He asked, "What's next?"

"We'll start destroying their distribution points and warehouses next," Sid answered.

Derek shook his head and said, "I don't see how you're going to win."

"You're forgetting something very important," Sid said.

"What?"

"Five out of seven people in enemy controlled territory are slaves. That's a big force to have behind enemy lines," Sid answered with a grin.

A rider came charging down the road and stopped in front Hunter. The two talked for a minute and then the rider took off back up the road. The other man called out to the woods and four men came running. There was a brief discussion and then the others went back into the woods. Looking over in the direction of Sid, Hunter shook his head and started walking over towards them.

Hunter stopped in front of Sid and said, "There's another patrol coming. They'll be here in about thirty minutes."

Gregor looked to Sid to see how he would deal with the problem. Sid nodded his head and asked, "What did you decide to do?"

"We're going to ambush them here," Hunter answered pointing to the sides of the woods where men were coming out and setting up behind their shields.

"You don't think that will be a little risky," Sid asked thinking that he would have done the same thing in this circumstance.

"Our normal procedure is for us to fall back to a secondary position. The problem is that don't have one set up here. Any further back, we're in farm land and there's no good cover. Between losing cover and having to fight straight out or risking two ambushes from the same spot, I'll take the risk of two ambushes from the same spot. I figure they won't be expecting us to remain here," Hunter said.

Sid turned to Gregor and asked, "What do you think?"

"Why didn't you have a back up position?" Gregor asked wondering why they deviated from their normal procedure.

"This was the only spot for an ambush. The ambush was necessary if we're going to keep the folks you set free safe long enough to establish some rudimentary guard," Hunter said.

"It sounds a little risky to me, but your assessment is probably correct," Gregor said. He looked at the young man thinking that he had a pretty clear grasp of the situation. He was aware of the larger picture as well as the immediate problem.

Hunter shrugged his shoulders and said, "We do what we can to minimize the risk."

The men had cleaned up the area. It wasn't perfect, but it would require someone to be extremely alert to spot the men hidden behind their shields. The previous ambush and rough treatment while clearing up after the battle had left most of the camouflage in rough shape. The beat up branches on the bushes actually made it appear that the fighting had occurred at the tree lines.

"We had better get out of sight before the... ," Gregor said.

Hunter interrupted, "General, you had better head back to a rear position."

"Are you trying to give me an order?"

"Not really, General. I was making a suggestion that I'm going to insist you follow," Hunter said with a tactful grin. Pointing to the horse, he said, "I'd appreciate it if you were to get on your horse and ride out of here. We're going to be hip deep in the enemy soon and I'd hate to lose you because the enemy gets lucky."

Knowing that Hunter was correct in his assessment, Sid said, "When you're done here, get over to River Camp. We have some things to talk about."

"Yes, General," Hunter said with a nod of his head. He hoped that he hadn't stepped over the line, but he didn't want Sid around for this fight.

Climbing into his saddle, Sid said, "I'll expect a full report when you reach River Camp."

"Yes, General."

As they rode off, Gregor gave Sid a wry grin and said, "He thinks you're mad at him for telling you to go."

"I know," Sid answered attempting to keep his face neutral.

"Are you?" Derek asked thinking the same thing, but not being amused by it.

"He's not, but that little misunderstanding just means that the promotion will be a bigger surprise," Fred answered with a grin while watching the back of Sid's head. Somehow he knew the expression on the man's face was one of amusement.

Four days later, the dozen men reached bridge gate to River Camp. River Camp was a fortification that Sid had set up on one side of a very wide river. The river was deep enough that it could only be crossed by the wooden bridge that spanned it or by boats. The next nearest crossing was two days march to the south where they had a second camp. In case the enemy showed up, they could burn the bridge and make good a retreat. This was their most secure encampment as evidenced by the fact that Sid had sent Laura to stay there.

The bridge gate was a monstrous two story wooden structure complete with guard towers at each side and a protected platform across the top from which archers could fire arrows on unwanted visitors. The gate itself was tall enough for a mounted man on horseback to enter while carrying a spear in an upright position. It was wide enough for four men to ride abreast.

Beside the bridge gate was a large meadow with fire rings scattered around it. A couple of wagons were parked in the meadow with men and women gathered around them gesturing in the time honored manner of people negotiating prices. There were a few tents occupied by men who were waiting, although what they were waiting for wasn't clear by looking at them.

Sid pulled up at the bridge gate and shouted up to the right-hand tower of the gate. "Hello, the guard."

"General, you're back early," the guard said leaning over to look down at Sid. His job was simple. He was to keep out spies and watch the road for the approach of the enemy. If the enemy showed, he was to secure the gate, sound the alarm, and set fire to the bridge while retreating to the town on the other side. There was no pretense of trying to defend the site from a real army. Keeping out spies was the trickier proposition.

"How are things?"

"Good. Barson and Olaf are here. The Colonel is in the stockade and is being interrogated," the guard replied knowing that was the kind of news that Sid wanted. He looked over at the two strangers with Sid and asked, "So who are your friends?"

"Gregor of the Rider Clan and his man, Derek," Sid answered.

The guard nodded and said, "Nice to meet you Gregor and Derek."

"They have privileges," Sid said to let the guard know that the two men could come and go as they wished. He amended it to allow them to bring people into the camp by adding, "Full privileges."

"Good to know," the guard said. He gestured to someone behind the gate and said, "Take them by the other fellows."

"Of course," Sid said. Turning to the rest of the men, he said, "Let's get into camp."

"What's with the privileges?" Gregor asked eyeing the gate carefully. He didn't miss the fact that there were a dozen slits from which arrows could be fired. The doors slowly opened and he found there were a dozen men facing him armed with swords.

"You can come and go from camp when you wish. With full privileges you can also bring in people," Sid answered. Anticipating the next few questions, he explained, "The guards only allow people in who they recognize, unless they are accompanied by someone they recognize who has the right to bring in people. They only allow people out who they recognize and have the right permissions."

"Sounds complicated," Gregor said riding through the gate with Sid.

"It's the only way to maintain security when you have people who are away for too long for passwords to be changed frequently enough to work."

"What if the guard doesn't recognize you?" Derek asked looking at all of the men around him.

"You ask for someone inside who would recognize you and has permission to bring in someone," Sid said. He pointed to the meadow and said, "We often have people camping over there for a day or two until someone comes along that knows them. A lot of trade takes place outside these gates."

In a voice that conveyed his doubts that it would work, Gregor said, "It might work."

"If you can come up with a better scheme, we'll use it," Sid said. He knew that one traitor could bring in a force large enough to overwhelm the base, but he had not identified a better way to control access to the fort.

He kicked his horse into motion and road through the gate followed by the rest of the party. Once through the gate, he halted his horse and turned to face the other men on guard duty. He called out to the men above the gate, "These two men with me have full privileges."

The men on the walkway over the gate waved acknowledgement to Sid. Gregor was impressed with the number of people at the gate. He asked, "Is it always manned with so many people?"

"Yes," Sid said. This was their most secure fortification this close to where the action was taking place. It wasn't their most forward base, but the forward bases tended to be moved every month.

They crossed the river finding a couple of men fishing from the bridge. The men had been out on raids for more than two months and were taking a well deserved break from action. Sid didn't bother them knowing that their commander would have taken them to task if they had been derelict in duty. As they passed, Sid asked, "Would you like to go fishing, Fred?"

"Uh, the thought did cross my mind," he answered.

"I wouldn't mind some fresh fish for dinner tonight," Sid said knowing that it was the easiest way to give Fred the kind of permission that he would accept. He added, "Of course, the only way to assure that it was fresh was if you caught it. We wouldn't want to trade for some fish that have been hanging around for a couple of days."

"Yes, General. I'll see what I can do," Fred said with a smile.

"I wish you luck," Sid said. He watched as Fred turned to head towards a building by the river. The building was a rest and recuperation facility that provided items for use by men in their off time. There were simple things like fishing poles, balls, hammocks, and other items that the men would use to while away their idle time. It had been another one of those slightly twisted ideas by Olaf and Barson.

Derek commented, "He sure looks happy."

Chuckling, Sid turned to Gregor and said, "Amazing how hard it is to give a guy a day off, isn't it?"

"Seems to me that you handled that well," Gregor commented. He looked over at Derek and asked, "What about you? Care to go fishing?"

"Maybe," Derek said. The past few months had been rough. As a slave, he hadn't been given a single chance to just relax. Even after his rescue, he'd been busy keeping up with Sid and Gregor.

Gregor held out both arms and looked at the rough red skin around his wrists. Frowning, he said, "I'm going fishing. Nothing in the world sounds better than sitting by the river drinking watered wine and watching a fishing pole."

Sid pointed to the building that Fred had entered. He said, "Go there and ask for some fishing poles."

"I can make my own," Derek said before he realized that he had lost all of his possessions and wouldn't be able to make his own pole.

"They've got at least fifty fishing poles over there for use by anyone who wants to fish. If everyone around here made their own pole, we wouldn't have a tree left within a mile of here," Sid said with a smile.

"I'm impressed," Gregor said.

"If you would rather swing from a hammock for a couple of hours, they can direct you to where they have one set up," Sid said.

Derek grinned at the idea of gently swinging in the breeze while doing nothing and said, "That's what I'd like to do."



-------

Chapter 14


The next day a very unhappy Sid finished interrogating the Colonel that had been captured in the raid five days earlier. The information that he had gotten from the man didn't represent good news. The Colonel had been leading five groups of a hundred men each. Each group followed the previous group by thirty minutes. He hadn't left Hunter to face a second group of a hundred, but a second, third, fourth, and fifth group of a hundred. It was too late to help Hunter, but he hoped the young man had managed to pull off a major miracle.

The news was even worse than that. He had learned that Danny Sun wasn't being very effective in his campaign. That had freed a lot of enemy troops that could be brought to bear on the more effective generals. Half of them were headed in his direction and that meant trouble.

His attention was drawn away from that problem by the arrival of Hunter in a huge crowd of men. He gave a sigh of relief on seeing the young man. He was accompanied by one of the raiding parties and most of his men. The entire party looked in bad shape.

Hunter left his men and stopped a short distance away from Sid. He didn't care if Sid was going to yell at him about ordering him to leave. What he had gone through justified that many times over. Looking down at the ground, he said, "I'm reporting as you ordered, General."

"How did the ambush go?" Sid asked noticing that Hunter had a bandage on his arm.

"I lost twenty men and had another forty four wounded," Hunter answered.

"What happened?"

"We ambushed the second set of troops and things went alright. Two of our men were killed and ten were wounded. The problem was that there was a third set of troops fifteen minutes behind them. We were caught by surprise and had to fight a strategic retreat for two days," Hunter answered.

"What about the scout? Why didn't he warn you of their approach?" Sid asked wondering why they hadn't learned about the third force.

"At the time, I figured he was dead. I later learned that he had been chased for almost four hours by the enemy's mounted soldiers before getting away," Hunter said.

"Tell me about the retreat," Sid said feeling like Hunter must have done an exemplary job of controlling the men to have survived three engagements in a single day.

"Well, we picked up our shields and our spears as soon as we heard the enemy coming. Estimating that we faced an equal or greater force, I ordered that all of the prisoners be killed. If they got free, we'd be fighting them for a second time and I couldn't risk the lives of my men for theirs," Hunter said fully believing that Sid would criticize him for not doing something else with the prisoners.

"Understandable," Sid said knowing that Hunter had been in a tough position. He probably had about fifty prisoners and less than a hundred men. Retreating with fifty prisoners was impossible and adding almost half your force to the pursuit was suicidal.

"We headed down the road before they saw us. I figure that coming across that many dead bodies slowed them down for half an hour. We used that half an hour to get as far as possible and then stopped to catch our breath. It was an open area with no cover to be found. I chose to make a stand at that location. The last thing I wanted was to be chased down in disarray," Hunter said. He figured that break actually saved his men.

"By the time we had caught our breath, the enemy was within sight. We used that turtle defense where we locked shields and used our spears to keep them off of us. I couldn't believe how effective it was. When they would charge, we'd just poke out a spear at any body part that came into view. When they backed off, we continued our retreat down the road in formation," Hunter said. It had been the longest day of his life.

"They must have charged us twenty or thirty times that afternoon. Each time, it was an ugly fight with lots of blood; mostly theirs, but occasionally some of ours. We lost eight men that afternoon. We held each time, but we were getting weaker. They kept getting more and more reinforcements. It finally got too dark to fight, but we continued moving down the road for half of the night staying in that turtle formation. I'd say that we got about four hours of rest before the sun rose.

"When dawn came, the enemy was still in sight. They had followed us in the dark, but couldn't see well enough to co- ordinate an attack. I'm halfway convinced that they were terrified of facing our defensive position when they couldn't see well enough to dodge our spears. That morning, they attacked us again. My men were exhausted, but each of them stood their ground and fought with a ferocity that should be commended," Hunter said looking at Sid.

"Have no doubts about that," Sid said.

"It was nearing noon and I wasn't sure that we were going to be able to hang on for another minute when the scout showed up with the raiding party led by Theodore Forester. I was down to forty people who were still capable of fighting and Theodore had fifty mounted men. The enemy was still well over a hundred," Hunter said. He remembered looking out between shields and seeing the charge of Forester's men. His first thought was that another group of enemy reinforcements had arrived.

"What did you do?"

"His charge pulled the men from one side of our formation. I ordered our men to form into a line and to advance. I think the enemy was very surprised to find itself facing four rows of spearmen advancing behind a wall of shields. It turned into a melee, General. I don't know how my men did it, but they stood until the tide had turned. Forester's men mopped up the enemy," Hunter said.

Nodding his head, Sid asked, "How many of the enemy do you estimate were killed or wounded?"

"I'd say about four hundred if we include the first two ambushes," Hunter said.

"And you started with a hundred men," Sid said rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He said, "You lost twenty men and had forty four wounded. Does that include the one dead and four wounded in the initial engagement?"

"Yes, sir," Hunter said.

"You do realize that you actually engaged five hundred of the enemy?" Sid asked.

"It sure felt like it," Hunter said.

Sid looked at Hunter very impressed with how the man had dealt with the situation. He said, "I want you to know that I'm very impressed with how your men handled themselves through that entire ordeal. They demonstrated exactly the kind of discipline and strength of character that I want in our men."

"Thank you, General. I'll let them know that," Hunter said.

"You don't have to let them know that. I'll tell them that myself," Sid said with a smile. Sid rubbed his chin and asked, "I want your honest assessment about another matter."

"Yes, sir," Hunter said.

"How would you evaluate your performance?" Sid asked.

"I'd say that I was right in sending you away and I was wrong in staying for the second ambush. After that mistake, the only thing I could do was hold off the inevitable for as long as possible. We were lucky that we were rescued by Forester's raiders," Hunter answered.

"That's where I have to disagree with you," Sid said.

"I was right in sending you away, sir," Hunter said.

"That was a given. You might think I was upset by that, but I was more amused than anything else. I don't think you were wrong in staying for the second ambush. I also think that you didn't just hold off the inevitable. That understates your performance. You held together a force of men who were so tired that I imagine they just dropped to the ground when it was all over. Your men performed admirably, but that was because you demonstrated the leadership skills that brought that performance out of them."

Blinking, Hunter said, "Thank you, General."

"No. I should by thanking you, Hunter. You did an outstanding job. You managed to save eighty of your men when you were facing three to one odds. That was an impressive demonstration of leadership,"

Hunter didn't know what to say. He went with the tried and true response. "Thank you, General."

Pacing in front of Hunter, Sid said, "You may have wondered why I asked you to report here when I left."

"I figured it was for asking you to leave," Hunter said.

Sid laughed and said, "That wasn't the reason why, although I did leave you with that impression. No, the reason I asked you here was to promote you. You're going to be leading a brigade from now on."

"You're kidding," Hunter said looking at Sid in disbelief.

"No and now that I've heard your report, I can say without a doubt that I wasn't wrong in wanting to promote you," Sid said patting Hunter on the shoulder.

"Thank you, General," Hunter said. As far as he knew, there were only a handful of men who had command over thousand men in all of Chaos. In most campaigns, that would make him a general.

"You deserve it, Hunter. Now, if you'll take my advice then I suggest that you have your men relax this afternoon without any duties. Let them sleep, fish, play, or do what ever they want until noon tomorrow. I would like them to stand in formation at the bridge at noon tomorrow so that I can address them," Sid said.

"I'll let the men know that."

"Once you've done that, you might decide how you want to spend your time," Sid said.

"Thank you, General. I think I'll just take a nap in a hammock," Hunter said. He waited to be dismissed.

Seeing the young man still standing there, Sid made a shooing gesture and said, "Run along and play."

"Yes, General," Hunter said with a laugh. He walked away shaking his head in amazement.

Turning to the crowd that had gathered behind him, Sid asked, "Well, Gregor. What do you think of Hunter?"

"He's good. I'm very impressed," Gregor answered. He was more impressed that Sid managed to train his junior leaders to such high levels of performance.

"I'm impressed as well," Sid said. Shaking his head, he added, "I imagine that he lived through hell out there."

"Indeed, General," Fred said with a nod. It had dawned on him about halfway through the story that Hunter could have retreated through the area where the slaves had just been freed. It was likely that if he had done that, the enemy would have been held up to deal with the freed slaves. He could have gotten away after a two hour retreat rather than a two day retreat.

Sid turned to Fred and noticed the expression on his face. Smiling, Sid said, "I see that you figured it out, too.'

"He figured out what?" Derek asked.

"That he led the enemy away from the men and women we had freed earlier that day," Sid said.

Derek frowned and said, "He could have used their help against the enemy."

"He would have gotten most of them killed," Sid said raising an eyebrow.

Realizing that he had known many of the folks that had been freed, Derek understood that Hunter had done something very noble. Rather than risk hundreds to save his own skin, he had risked his to save them. Nodding his head, he said, "I understand."

Gregor said, "They're going to send an even larger force out there now."

"I know," Sid said with a frown. He figured that there were five hundred men at the base where the original forces had been camped. It would take a day for one of the survivors to return to the base. It wouldn't be until the next day that a force would leave for the farms. Then, it would be another day on the road before the force made it to the farms. He decided that the farm had three days from the day of the battle before they would be facing enemy forces.

"The slaver army had three days to get there. Five days have passed since the ambush," Gregor said. His mind had gone through the same calculation as Sid.

"And we're four days from there," Sid said with a nod. With a worried expression on his face, he said, "I'm confident that Forester made sure that they were protected."

Theodore Forester had been standing behind Fred waiting for a chance to report. In a soft voice, he said, "Hunter wouldn't leave until I convinced him that at least five raiding parties remained in the area, General."

Surprised, Sid turned around and asked, "Were the raiding parties informed of what they could expect?"

"Yes, General. The story of Hunter's retreat was told to one and all. I'm sure that the enemy has no idea what they are about to walk into," Forester answered with an expression of delight on his face. He added, "You have no idea what effect that story had on the men, sir. A hundred men facing five to one odds and emerging victorious is a quite a standard to meet. I'm sure that our two hundred and fifty mounted men will not allow five hundred of the enemy to be victorious."

The next day Sid stood in front of the gathered men of Hunter's company. All other men and women in camp were in attendance. Sid gave a speech in which he praised Hunter for his leadership and announced his promotion.

In an army where men worked for pay and medals were meaningless, it was customary to reward men with money. A shell was the typical award for a common soldier. He handed Hunter a rather large bag containing five conches, with two of the conches in shells. With fifty shells per conch, that would allow Hunter to give each man a shell. He knew that Hunter would distribute a shell to the each of the men under him.

After that little speech was over, Sid addressed the men concerning their heroism and discipline in the face of the enemy. He then handed out bags containing three shells in the form of two shells and four quads. The men appreciated the unexpected bonus and Sid was widely praised. That praise was then directed to Hunter when he distributed another shell to each man.

It was three days later when a man rode into River Camp with news from the field. He was wearing a bandage on his arm and one on his leg. He rode to the building where Sid was staying and climbed off his horse. He moved gingerly as if in pain. Sid stepped out of the building and looked over the man taking in his condition. Laura and Fred came out behind him.

The man straightened and said, "Martin Dickenson reporting from the field, General."

"What's the news?"

"Our forces engaged the enemy at Hunter's Crossroad and were victorious. The fort in which the enemy had been billeted has been burned to the ground. Their supplies have been added to ours," Martin said.

Sid's eyebrows rose on hearing that the battlefield had been named after Hunter. He wondered how Hunter would react to that. He asked, "How many men did the enemy send out?"

"Over eight hundred men, General. We were rather surprised by the number of men that they had. They completely emptied their fort to field that many men."

"How many of our men were there?"

"Three hundred, General. Six groups of raiders with fifty men each," Martin said.

"Have a seat and then tell me the whole story," Sid said gesturing to one of several stumps in front of the building.

Martin sat down and said, "Initially there were five raiding parties waiting for the enemy. Sneak was scouting around the enemy fort and saw how many men were marching out. He rode back to where our group was camped in the woods a day's march from the fort. Jackson sent out a rider to find additional raiding parties to join in the battle. The rider was only able to find one more raiding party."

"Well, there are only ten raiding parties active at a time. I'd be surprised if there was another one to be found within a two day ride," Sid said. He was rather surprised that the rider had been able to find one.

"Our group allowed the enemy to march past us while we hid in the woods about a four hour march from the road. Once they had passed us, we went back to their fort and took their supplies. Then we burned down the fort. You could see the smoke for a day's march in every direction.

"The enemy sent back a fifty man patrol to investigate. We took care of them using our standard tactics; quick sorties that took out five or six of their men at time," Martin said with a grin.

"Good move," Sid said.

Martin looked down at the ground for a second and then said, "We went after the rest of their forces figuring that we could harass them from the rear. They had a hundred mounted men, fifty leading the way and fifty following the rest of the troops. We haven't had many occasions where we've had to face mounted men and our quick sorties approach wasn't going to work since they could give us pursuit. We had to change it a little. Ten of us would charge them from the rear and take out a man or two before turning around and riding off. They would pursue us back down the road only to find forty men charging from the side with lances. It was a pretty effective tactic. It only took about six sorties to destroy their mounted support and we ended up with half of their horses."

"Whose idea was that?" Sid asked.

"Dick Jackson, General. He said that if we could do that with men marching, then we could do something similar for men on horseback. It was just a matter of figuring out how to destroy their discipline."

"Smart man," Sid commented trying to recall Dick Jackson. If he remembered correctly, he had been one of the freed slaves who had joined up with his army.

"We then went after the men who were marching. Other raiding parties had joined in the action by then. We were hitting them twelve times a day; sometimes at the head of the column and sometimes at the rear, but mostly right across the middle. We kept that up for two days. By then, we had reduced their forces to a little fewer than six hundred men."

Frowning, Sid did the mental calculation. Their standard rate of success in a sortie was five enemy killed. They should have reduced the enemy by almost a hundred and twenty. Taking into account the hundred mounted men and the fifty sent back to the fort, the enemy should have had only a little more than five hundred men. He asked, "Why weren't the raids as effective as normal?"

"They were marching four abreast rather than the standard two. I think they were afraid of being ambushed, but it also made it a little more difficult for our sorties."

"They are adapting to our tactics," Sid said holding up a hand to keep Martin from telling him more of the story while he considered the implications of the change. It was going to be necessary to change how they ran a sortie. With a gesture, he let the man know that he was to continue telling the story.

"The enemy finally made it to Hunter's crossing and less than two hours march from the freed slaves. It was time for us to stop them, but we were still out numbered at almost two to one. The leaders of the raiding teams worked together to come up with a strategy to use the fact that we were mounted while they were on foot.

"It was decided that rather than charging into the enemy we would ride along their positions. Each of us would take out a man with our lance each pass. We tried to keep at least six feet of distance from the enemy closing only when we were ready to take out our man. If they came out to meet us, we'd change direction to make sure that we kept the six feet of distance. They ran all over that battlefield trying to close in with us," Martin said.

"Sounds like a reasonable strategy," Sid said thinking that it reminded him of how the Native Americans fought the wagon trains. They'd circle around the settlers firing arrows at a distance where the men couldn't reach them with handheld weapons. Of course, the rifle made that a mute point. Still, the motion of the mounted warrior made it difficult to actually hit the man. It was apparently easier to fire at a stationary target from horseback than to hit a moving target while standing stationary.

"Our horses got tired, but we each have a string of three horses. We changed horses rather frequently. The enemy being on foot didn't have that luxury. We kept it up for two hours before they broke and ran," Martin said. The retreat had been disorganized and fatal for almost all of those who ran.

"How many prisoners did you get?" Sid asked.

"Forty."

"It must have been a massacre."

"It was. Tired men can't run far. They can't think straight, either. Very few of them had the presence of mind to drop their weapons and surrender," Martin said.

"How many of our men were killed or wounded?"

"Eight killed and sixty wounded," Martin answered.

The low numbers surprised Sid. Looking at the bandages, Sid asked, "How did you get wounded?"

"I was riding along the enemy's position when one of them threw his sword at me," Martin answered. He shook his head and said, "They were a little frustrated that we didn't fight them head on."

Seated around the campfire that night, Sid and Gregor discussed the alterations in the tactics that the enemy was adopting. Sid expressed his concern that the enemy was going to be increasingly more successful in countering their tactics.

"When you rescued me, you said that you needed me. What can I do to help?" Gregor asked.

"Parker has been leading half of my army four weeks ride in that direction," Sid answered pointing to the west. Parker was one of the veterans who had been brought from the Jones Citadel. "I need to field a division of my army to the east. Would you be interested in leading it?"

Gregor sat on his stump watching the men moving around the camp while thinking about the offer. There were many reasons to accept it, but a few very good reasons not to take it. After a minute of thought, he asked, "Haven't you been training someone to do that?"

"Yes."

"I thought as much. It would be best to have that person lead the new division of your army," Gregor said in a thoughtful manner. Looking over at Sid, he said, "There's a Rider Clan saying that you don't change horses while crossing a stream. Go with your man. I'll return to the Rider Clan and raise a group to help you."

Nodding his head, Sid wasn't going to say that it was also an Earth saying. He said, "You are probably right. How many men do you think you can get?"

"The Rider Clan is large, maybe a little too large. I can probably pull together a thousand men," Gregor said. Looking over at Sid, he winked and added, "Maybe I'll be able to get some of my Nomadic relatives to join in. They are an impressive sight when they ride into battle."

"I've heard that," Sid said with a smile. It was a twenty week march to the Rider Citadel. A rider could make that in half of the time. It would take Gregor at least ten weeks to reach the Rider Citadel and then another ten weeks to return. With two or three weeks to recruit that many men, it would mean that it would take Gregor six months to arrive. He said, "It will take you six months to get there and back."

"Yes, it will. I'll be leaving in the morning," Gregor said looking down at his wrists. They had healed, but the scars would remain for life to serve as a constant reminder of the lowest point of his life. He was going to make them pay for those scars.



-------

Chapter 15


Sucking on her index finger, Laura watched Sid working with the men. They were practicing a new tactic for dealing with men marching four abreast. She thought he cut such a dashing figure riding his horse with a lance leveled at the targets. Watching him made her wet between the legs. When he would pause and wave to her, she thought her heart would explode.

Although Sid had been busy leading the army, he had given Laura more of his time than she had expected under the circumstances. When he was in camp, they shared three meals a day and an hour after dark without exception. He even allowed her to attend his meetings with the other leaders. Each minute together was an exquisite mixture of ecstasy and agony. She wanted him so much that it almost hurt. She didn't know it, but he felt the same way towards her.

Taking a breath, she returned to the building in which she shared sleeping quarters with some of the camp women. When Sid was away from camp, she spent her time helping in the kitchens or in the infirmary when there were wounded men who needed treatment. The work helped pass the time until he returned.

Satisfied that the men understood the basic sortie maneuver, Sid returned to his quarters. It would soon be time for lunch and he wanted to have a chance to clean up a little before sitting down to eat with Laura. He enjoyed the meals, but they were driving him a little crazy. She'd eat food in such a sexy manner that he had difficulty standing up after finishing his meal.

Olaf, Barson, and Albert were seated at one of the few tables outside the kitchen area. While waiting for Sid, Olaf was flirting with one of the women who worked in the kitchen. The kitchen wasn't in a building, but was under several canvases stretched among the trees. It helped keep the area cool even with the heat from the cooking fires. It also made it easy to flirt with the women while they were cooking. Olaf made frequent use of that aspect of the kitchen and his attentions did not go unappreciated.

Laura and Sid arrived at the table and took a seat across from the trio of young men. Olaf was too involved to notice their arrival, but Barson nudged his friend to get his attention. Turning, Olaf asked, "What? Oh, you're here finally."

"Yes, we're here," Sid said shaking his head. Gesturing to the tent with an amused expression on his face, he asked, "Who will it be today, Alice or Mary?"

"June," Olaf answered with a grin and a wink.

Laura nodded her head in approval and said, "June is a lusty woman. I think you'll have fun with her this evening."

Noticing Olaf's frown, Sid said, "She means it as a compliment."

To say that Laura confused Olaf would be an understatement. He knew many women who enjoyed relations with men, but none of them was so open in approving other women who were enthusiastic. He couldn't count the number of times she had steered him away from one woman to a woman of greater appetite for sex. It was obvious to every man in camp that she wanted Sid, but the pair of them never seemed to act on that desire. Nodding his head, he said, "I know."

Albert, another of the young men who had been recruited at the Jones Citadel, asked, "Would you like some boiled eggs with lunch?"

Surprised by the offer, Sid answered. "We had eggs for breakfast and now you say we can have eggs for lunch. What's up with the eggs?"

"Ah, we've had some rather productive chickens of late. The flock has grown and they are laying eggs at a fantastic rate," Barson said.

"How many eggs a day?" Sid asked.

"Well, each hen is laying the normal number of eggs. The problem is that we have a lot of hens. We're getting about two hundred eggs a day," Olaf said with a grin at Barson.

"Oh, we've only got fifty people in camp at the moment," Sid said.

"That's right. Four eggs a person every day," Albert said.

"I suggest that you kill some chickens," Sid said looking at Olaf and noticing the mischievous smile on his face. Wondering what was up, he asked, "What's so funny about that suggestion?"

"We already did that, General. We'll have a roasted chicken per man tonight for dinner," Olaf said.

The chance to eat chicken while on a campaign was a real treat. Sitting forward, Sid said, "That sounds great."

"We've also sent about five hundred chickens to some of the other camps," Barson said looking over at Sid.

"What?"

"Well, for the past six months we've been letting the chickens sit on their eggs. It kind of got away from us and we ended up with about a thousand chickens," Albert said.

"What have you been feeding them?" Sid asked afraid to hear the answer.

"Oh, a little of our excess grain," Barson answered looking down at the table.

"We had excess grain?" Sid asked.

"Well, we've been pretty successful in gathering supplies," Barson answered.

"Just how successful have you been?" Sid asked looking from the one man to the other.

"Very," Barson answered. He set a substantial leather bag on the table and said, "We've been trading for supplies across a pretty wide area. We get more of one thing than we need and swap the excess for another thing that we need. How can I say this? We've gotten some pretty good deals here and there."

Nodding his head, Olaf asked, "You remember all of those freed men and women you sent to provide support services?"

"Yes," Sid answered.

"Well, we put them to work making weapons, wagons, furniture, pottery, and other items using that approach you suggested," Barson said. Looking at Albert, he said, "They've been very productive. In just four months, we've got all of the weapons, wagons, and pottery that we'll need for the next year. Since we were paying them, we started to export the items to other parts of Chaos."

Resting his head in his hands, Sid said, "Let me guess. We're making money."

"That's right. We're covering the payroll, expanding operations, and making a profit," Barson said.

"You did that in six months?" Sid asked shaking his head in wonder.

"Yes, General. We're making a profit and it has just begun," Barson said. Looking at Sid, he added, "Peterson didn't tell me what to do with the profits, so Olaf and I figured that it was about time to come ask you what we're supposed to do with them."

"Just how large of an operation have you built?" Sid asked looking at the trio.

"Pretty large. We've got a couple of places that are manufacturing wagons, siege weapons, spears, bows, arrows, shields, saddles, lances, and just about every other weapon that's made of wood. We've got one that is turning out furniture. Then one of the men found a good supply of clay so we started making pottery. We're producing jars and pots from there. Olaf found a source of bog iron. We've got eight smiths working full time making swords, arrow heads, spear tips, and parts for the siege weapons," Olaf answered.

"Wait a minute. You've mentioned siege weapons a couple of times. Normally siege weapons are build on-site," Sid said.

"Well, we scaled some of them down and mounted them on wagons so that they can be moved. We made a trebuchet that was about a quarter of the normal size. It launches a ten pound load about a hundred paces. They just devastate a wooden structure. You line up fifty of them and a fort will be gone in a couple of hours," Albert said. He was one of the specialists that had joined the army. He was a siege engineer. Shrugging his shoulders, he added, "Fill it with small rocks and you can devastate an army. Fill it with jars of oil and you can burn down a forest around the army."

"Fifty of them, huh?"

"We've got about two hundred of them built already," Olaf said.

"Don't forget the ballistae. We've got fifty of them," Barson said. A ballista was a torsion bow that fired wooden bolts. A bolt was a pace and a half long with a diameter of a man's wrist. One bolt could travel through a half dozen men.

Laura asked, "How did you ever manage to put such a large operation together in such a short time?"

"It's his fault, really," Albert said pointing at Sid. Seeing the shocked expression on Sid's face, he explained, "There for a while, the General was sending back a hundred to two hundred men a day to provide supporting services. That was over a thousand men a week who needed to be doing something. All of them were freed slaves who had nothing better to do than volunteer to help fight the slavers. Somehow they ended up being my responsibility. That was okay with me since I didn't have much to do until we were actually attacking a fort or a city."

Olaf nodded his head and said, "None of us is all that smart. Poor Barson, here, is a little slow upstairs, but he claims to have had an idea or two in his lifetime. He says that he's still waiting for me to have an idea, but I seem to recall having one when I was a little kid. So you can imagine our confusion when Albert came to us for advice about what to do with so many folks. Our poor little heads just about over heated trying to figure out why he came to the two of us."

Sid chuckled at the direction Olaf was taking the story. Laura was trying hard not to laugh, but was not entirely successful. Sid said, "I'm well aware of how the two of you seem to have a penchant for slightly twisted thoughts that are almost ideas. I can imagine what happens when the three of you get together."

"So you can understand that when the three of us put our heads together we kept getting these slightly twisted thoughts on how to use all of those men. Well, we talked the matter over with Peterson and he told us to try out some of our almost ideas. We did and things got a little out of control," Albert said.

"How out of control?" Sid asked.

"I and the folks under my command have been starting two shops a day. When we ran out of things to make for the army, we started making other things in the hope of trading them to get other items for the army."

"In terms of area covered by these shops, just how big are we talking about?" Sid asked.

"Every place that you've liberated going all the way back to your Citadel," Albert answered with a shrug.

Sid was staggered by the information. Logistics was the key to the success of an army and these three young men had exceeded every standard that could have been set. Their logistics solution was not only feeding and equipping the entire army, but making money for it as well. Looking over at Albert, Sid said, "We don't have any men trained to use the siege weapons you've been building and we're going to need them soon."

Albert scratched the side of his face with his thumb while looking up at the sky. He said, "I sent half of them to Masterson. The other half will be here tomorrow complete with crews."

"You've already got crews for them?"

"Connor said it was okay," Albert said defensively.

"I'm not upset, just a little surprised," Sid said staring at Albert. His army had just increased in size by another six hundred trained troops. Even better, they were specialists in siege work.

A week later, Sid had a thousand troops facing a fort. He was waiting for his men to get organized on the edge of the field. Two hundred paces across the field from his men was a wooden fort manned by almost eight hundred of the enemy. For the past week, Sid's troops had been engaging the enemy in small skirmishes. The fifteen hundred men stationed in the area had been whittled down to eight hundred. The enemy had retreated to the safety of this fort.

The fort itself was an impressive sight. It had walls that stood fifteen feet tall and a hundred yards to a side. The walls, made of shaped timber, were a foot wide and a hand thick. The timber ran vertically. A guard platform ran around the top that allowed archers to fire upon attackers who were foolish enough to rush the structure. The corners had towers that rose twenty feet above the ground. A large gate at the front provided sufficient room for a cavalry charge from within while the smaller gate at the back of the fort was just wide enough to provide room for an infantry charge.

It was a solid structure designed as a staging area for patrols and raiders. It was not constructed to resist an extended siege by a well organized army. The wood burned too easily and did not have the strength that stone would have provided. Despite that, it was a daunting task to attack it.

Sid watched the siege specialists setting up the trebuchets and the ballistae. The ballistae were mounted on wagons and were rolled into place. The trebuchets required much more work. It was an amazing process and took almost an hour. Sid turned to Albert and asked, "Why did it take so long to set up the trebuchet?"

Shocked by the question, Albert said, "I'd say this is fast. A full size trebuchet takes almost a whole day to set up."

"I didn't realize that," Sid said.

"We can get off a shot about every five minutes with these. It takes about twenty minutes for a full sized trebuchet," Albert said. Before cocking the trebuchet, it was necessary to inspect it for damage. The process of cocking the massive arm back required a lot of work. After the arm was in launch position, it was necessary to inspect the entire trebuchet. There was no disaster greater than having one of the big trebuchets break in mid-launch. It would be the same as swinging a baseball bat the size of a telephone pole. Filling the sling was hard work for the big trebuchets since the load was usually pretty heavy and required two men to wrestle it into place. These little ones could be handled by a single loader.

Sid looked down the row of thirty trebuchets. He asked, "How will you fire them? All at once, in groups of six, or one at a time?"

"One at a time. You can't imagine the effect on the men of having rocks constantly hitting the wall of the fort," Albert answered. He pointed to a pile of rocks and said, "We'll start out using those rocks concentrating on a twenty pace length of the wall. I figure about ten rounds of continuous fire will take out the walls. Then we'll switch to the pebbles."

"They'll charge at some point," Sid said.

"They have to charge. Staying in the fort would be suicide," Albert said.

"So you're telling me that you'll breech that fort in one hour?" Sid asked. He didn't believe it for a single minute.

"That's right," Albert replied looking Sid in the eye. They had practiced against structures that were even better built than they were facing now. The rocks would slam against the wall like a hammer weakening the wood until it cracked and splintered.

Sid pulled out four conch coins and held them in his hand. Looking at Albert, he said, "These are yours if you're right."

"I'll be looking for you an hour after you tell me to start," Albert said. He hoped that his estimates were correct.

"I'll go parley and see if they'll surrender," Sid said looking over at the fort.

He picked up the spear with the flag of truce on it. It was his hope that they would honor the flag, but that wasn't always the case. He walked over to his horse and mounted. Riding over to Albert, he said, "If I don't make it back, make sure that none of them survive."

"Right, General," Albert replied.

Sid nudged his horse to an easy walk and headed towards the front gate. He rode sitting tall in the saddle with the spear flying a flag of truce. He was well within range of a bow when a flight of arrows were launched in his direction. The arrows flew in a high arc. Kicking his horse, he sped ahead to ride under the arrows and circled back to his army at a fast gallop.

"Level that damned fort," Sid shouted upon reaching Albert. He was furious at the treachery of the enemy. Any chance of giving quarter had been destroyed. He dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to Fred.

It was time to prepare the rest of the men for the expected charge. He turned and walked to where seven hundred spearmen waited for him. At the far end of the field were a hundred men mounted on horseback. On the other side of the fort, another two hundred spearmen waited in case the enemy chose to break out the rear of the fort.

He had just reached the troops when he heard the unmistakable sound of the trebuchet being fired. He turned and watched the wall of the fort. The crack made when the rock hit the wall was sharp and drowned out the sound of the second trebuchet firing. Although the noise made by rock striking wall was impressive, there was nothing impressive about the damage. It looked like the rock hit the wall and then fell to the ground. He jingled his coin purse and figured his four conches were safe.

He turned to the men and shouted, "This enemy does not follow the rules of honorable combat. No quarter shall be given!"

His announcement was greeted with a rousing cheer from the men. To a man, they had wanted to charge forward when the arrows had been fired at Sid. Only the discipline of the squad leaders had held them back. Hoping that Albert was correct in his estimates, he shouted, "Watch the walls of the fort come tumbling down!"

Thirty minutes later, Sid looked at the wall of the fort and could barely believe his eyes. The center section of the fort had been hammered by a hundred and eighty rocks. Although each rock weighed only five pounds, the momentum transferred was incredible. Major sections of the wall displayed major damage. Even as he watched, he noticed a group of men who had been standing on a walkway along the top of the wall disappear when the walkway collapsed from beneath them.

Turning to the men, Sid shouted, "They'll be coming out of there soon. Be ready for their charge."

The troops had been watching the battering the fort was taking. They cheered and raised their bows in the air in response to Sid's words. They would each fire one arrow when the enemy charged and then pick up their spear and shield. The charging men would be vulnerable to the arrows. Convinced that the troops were ready, Sid turned to watch the continued assault upon the fort walls.

Forty five minutes into the battle, the stones started penetrating the fort wall. The constant thunk of rock hitting wall was now interspersed with shouts of men screaming when wounded. Although passing through the wall slowed the stones down, the fact that they were dropping from ten feet or so still caused damage from anyone in their way.

At an hour into the siege, the section of the fortress wall that had been hammered by the flying rocks was lying in ruins. Albert had targeted a section of the wall that included the supports for the gate. The gate had come crashing down. The fallen wall and gate left an opening that was close to twenty five paces across.

Sid looked at the opening and saw the enemy soldiers lined up to repel an attack. The line broke up almost immediately when Albert changed to throwing pebbles instead of rocks. A two ounce stone thrown across that distance struck with a force sufficient to kill.

This was also when Albert brought the ballistae into play. Massive bolts were thrown across the distance, barreling through the opening made by the trebuchets. The troops inside the fort huddled against the standing walls where they would be safe from the rocks. They weren't safe from the bolts fired through the wooden walls.

Albert waved a signal flag. Two minutes later, flaming bolts were smashing into the sections of the walls that had not been battered by the trebuchet. He had been soaking the bolts in a viscous black liquid that was found in pools in some parts of Chaos. Sid had recognized it as a thick crude oil and had suggested that soaking the bolts would make flaming arrows that would be devastating in an attack. Albert had been well aware of the uses of what he called ground fat. It was called that because most oil on Chaos came from rendered animal fat.

The bolts burned with a thick black choking smoke. The men inside the fort were now faced with a choice of hugging against a burning wall or standing in front of a deadly barrage of flying stone. There was only a single choice that made sense. They charged.

The battle did not last long. The enemy army had lost discipline and turned into a mob of terrified men. Sid's troops were well organized units that moved into place with practiced ease. The oversized shields prevented the enemy from striking with much effectiveness. The spears poking out from behind the shields found unprotected flesh. The mounted men rode into the fort and took out anyone who had remained behind.

Albert walked over to where Sid was directing the battle and watched the fighting. The fort was well on its way to being a smoking ruin. Noticing Albert, Sid handed over the four conches he had promised and said, "You did good."

"Thanks General."



-------

Chapter 16


Masterson, Peterson, Connor, Albert, Barson, and Olaf were gathered in the command tent waiting for Sid. They were about to embark on their first siege of a citadel. It was a massive undertaking. For the first time, they were facing stone walls that were eight feet thick and twenty feet tall.

"Those bastards fired at us when we went to parley," Sid said upon entering the tent. He was furious and stopped by the table to pour a glass of watered wine. His horse had taken an arrow. He'd still be out on the field if it hadn't been for Fred charging out with a spare horse.

"What happened?" Masterson asked.

"They fired three volleys of arrows at us," Sid answered. He took a sip of the watered wine and tried to calm down. The last thing he wanted to do was make a mistake driven by anger. Taking a breath, he asked, "Convince me that we are ready."

Looking over the map, Masterson said, "Intelligence says that there are a thousand troops inside the citadel. They'll be backed up by a citizen militia. The field slaves will be herded together in pens and watched over by overseers. House slaves will probably remain in the houses of their owners. In all, we can probably expect to face about eighteen hundred men."

Albert said, "The siege engines are ready. We've got the large trebuchets, battering rams, and ballistae in place. I figure it will take one week to break through the wall."

"We've got eight thousand troops," Connor said. Pointing to the map, he said, "We have forces in place to repel any raids that they may launch, here, here, here, and here. Men spend eight hours on duty. We're rotating them through three shifts."

"Our food supplies are solid," Peterson said. Olaf and Barson nodded their agreement to his statement.

Pointing to the map, Masterson said, "We're going to take down this section of the wall over the next week and keep it open using the ballistae. We won't attack right away. Instead, we'll turn our attention to this section of the wall and take it out. About the time that section of wall comes down, we'll attack the front and rear gates with the battering rams. If all goes according to plan, we'll have four entries into the citadel."

Nodding, Sid said, "We'll have a four to one advantage in men."

Masterson smiled and said, "Don't forget the women. I've got a quarter of a brigade of women troops that I'd put up against a full brigade of men."

Looking over at Masterson, Connor asked, "They are that good?"

"You better believe it. They train every spare minute they have. I started them with spears. After a month, they took over their own training. Now they've moved onto swords and battle axes. They've kept the horses captured in battle and ride like an experienced cavalry. I use them when I need a small number of very motivated forces," Masterson answered. He couldn't imagine the kind of hate that motivated the women to go to such extremes.

Looking over at Connor, Sid asked, "What about our special forces?"

Knowing that Sid was referring to the folks who had slipped inside the citadel, Connor said, "They are in place. The night before the main assault, we'll set fire to the tower on the hill. They'll get us another two thousand fighters although I can't say how good they'll be."

Sid understood what Connor meant. Among the men there, they had agreed not to speak of that portion of the plan aloud in case there were spies. Two dozen men and women had entered the citadel when the surrounding countryside was fleeing. They would free the field slaves from their pens during the attack. Nodding his head, Sid said, "Good."

"So can I start?" Albert asked.

"Yes," Sid answered.

Albert started to leave, but paused when Olaf said, "Barson and I will return to the camp to check that our supplies are being cared for properly. We'll make sure that everyone gets a blue arm band."

"Go ahead," Sid said. He watched the three young men leave the tent. Turning to Peterson he said, "They impress me more and more every day."

"You're impressed? I'm considering returning to the Jones Citadel and retiring because of Barson and Olaf. I'm doing nothing," Peterson said. It was a slight exaggeration, but it wasn't that far from the truth.

Turning to look at Connor, Sid said, "Albert was a surprise. You weren't all that enthused about him when we left the Jones Citadel."

"I know. I didn't have all that great of an impression of his leadership abilities when he signed up. I put him in charge of the non-combatant freed slaves just to keep him out of my way. The next thing I knew he had built up an operation that was incredible," Connor said. He attributed it a little to working with Olaf and Barson, but the young man had shown a lot of initiative in many other areas. Albert's siege troops were as well trained as any he had ever seen.

"Yes, it is an incredible operation," Sid said wryly.

Masterson said, "Each and every one of the men you recruited from the citadel is good. They are basically running this army."

"I know," Sid said thinking that his uncle had left him an amazing legacy. These were the sons and daughters of men and women who had served with Gerald. Loses of men in a battle was inevitable, but they had only lost three of the initial group over the course of war. For individuals without fighting experience, that was an amazing fact.

To describe the siege as boring wouldn't be accurate although for most of the troops there was nothing to do except watch the citadel. Twenty four hours a day, twenty pound rocks were launched at the walls of the citadel. Occasionally, the enemy would send out a party in an attempt to thwart the siege. For a half an hour there would be a spat of excitement.

On one of those occasions, Sid had a chance to see Masterson's quarter brigade of women in action. The strategist had not been exaggerating their ferocity on the battlefield. Sid had been shocked at how easily the women had killed. It was also obvious why Masterson liked them so much. The way they fought fit well with his personality.

At the end of a week, one section of wall fell just as Albert had predicted. The enemy attempted to block the breach with wagons and other items. The small trebuchets firing stones and the ballistae kept the men from achieving their task until it became obvious that they were using slave labor. Several of the slaves saw a chance at freedom and ran across the battlefield. Four of the nine who ran made it to safety.

It took a day to take down the trebuchets and another day to set them up again so that they were attacking a different section of the wall. The pounding resumed and continued for the next six days. On the sixth night, Sid had them set the tower on the hill on fire and roll out the siege rams.

A simple siege ram is a large log with one end carved into a point hung on a frame on wheels. A more complex siege ram has a roof to protect the individuals working the ram from attack from above. The ram that Albert built went far beyond that. It had a roof and sides to provide protection from all directions. The roof was layered with wood and slate. The slate was to prevent it from being flammable.

The siege rams were heavy monsters that took most of the night to roll up to the front and rear gates of the citadel. Twenty men inside each ram started the battering ram swinging from the frame. The first contact with the gate was just a little love tap, but once they had it going the sound of each strike reverberated over the field. The gates were strong, but not strong enough.

The defenders tried to displace the siege rams using standard approaches. Arrows rained down upon it and were deflected by the slate roof. Boiling oil was poured down and the slate roof kept the oil from penetrating into the working area. Even when lit, the double roof kept the majority of heat away from the interior. It wasn't until they started dropping rocks onto the top that the slate was cracked. By that time, it was too late.

Sid and the group gathered near the trebuchets were waiting for them to complete the breach. Hunter led the group that was waiting to charge through the first breach. The small trebuchets were being used to launch burning oil pots that would take out the wood used to form a defensive line at the original breach. Masterson and his women were waiting at the rear gate for the ram to complete its work. Connor waited at the front gate.

By noon, both gates had failed. When the section of wall in front of Sid's men fell, he had a man raise a flag. It was how the other groups would know that his section of wall had been breached. There was a short delay until a flag flew from Connor's position. Quiet descended upon the battlefield as trebuchets stopped firing and the battering rams pulled back.

At the sound of a dozen horns, Sid's army swarmed towards the citadel. A thousand men charged each breach. From the center of the citadel a great roar was emitted as thousands of slaves found themselves released from the pens that had held them. The occupants of the first pen released by Sid's agents helped free other slaves. Through the night, word had been spread not to attack anyone wearing a blue armband. The liberators were wearing blue armbands.

The townsfolk, overseers, and refuges found themselves facing thousands of angry slaves armed with clubs. The militia recognized that they had an enemy in front and behind them. Although one group was a well disciplined army, it was the freed slaves that were more frightening. The freed slaves were killing anyone who was not wearing a collar or a blue armband. Of course, the militia knew nothing about the blue armbands.

With Fred to his right side, Sid charged through the opening created by the trebuchet. He was surrounded by his forces despite an attempt on his part to take a lead position. Fred had slowed him down and the men had moved double time to pull slightly ahead of him. Sid suspected that it was intentional on the part of Fred and his men.

All of the men were on foot. Adding horses to the mix would have resulted in chaos that was more likely to backfire than be effective against the enemy. The large oversized shields had been dropped in favor of the smaller oval shields. In the close-in fighting, the smaller shields would be more effective against the overhead strikes of sword and battle axe.

Sid had borrowed a fighting tactic from the Zulus. The first aspect of that was the adoption of the smaller oval shields. The second aspect of that was having the men cut their spears short. The third aspect had been hours of drill on how to block a blow with the shield that was followed with a stab of the shortened spear. The drills had confused the men, but they had practiced as expected.

Although the drills had confused Sid's men, the effect on the enemy was one of complete devastation. They didn't know how to counter the practiced tactic. After swinging once, they found their sword out of position to parry the return blow. The appearance of the spear point below their small shields came as a complete surprise. Man after man fell to the abdominal injuries inflicted.

In the midst of the fighting, Sid's arms felt as if they were made of lead. The repeated poundings of swords on his shield reverberated through his left arm leaving it numb and tingling. Like his men, he had forsaken the use of his sword for one of the shortened spears although he did have his sword in its sheath. After dispatching his third man, Sid knew that his tactics were working very well.

It was also clear to Sid that his army was facing a larger force than they had estimated. While they had estimated a thousand men of the slaver uniformed army, his forces had engaged over eight hundred. He revised his estimate up to three thousand. From a four to one advantage, it had slipped to even numbers. Normally, that would have given the defenders a significant advantage.

The enemy retreated to the center of the town. It wasn't a safe direction for retreat. It wasn't long before they found the freed slaves charging them from the rear. Sandwiched between overpowering forces, the slaver army was slaughtered. Sid stopped and moved to the rear of his troops so that he could direct the final engagements of the battle for the citadel.

The fighting grew even fiercer as the enemy was slowly pushed back to a large building in the section of town being attacked by Connor. The building had a sign with a collar on it denoting that it was a building that was owned and operated by the slaver organization. Sid recalled that the largest buildings in a town were typically dedicated to the most important organization of the town. Giant cathedrals were built when the Church was supreme in Europe. Skyscrapers were built to reflect the rise of big business. Dictators usually had the largest buildings. The three story building let Sid know that slavery was the most significant organization in this culture.

Sid stared up at the building feeling malevolent waves of raw hatred emanating from it. He could see a very large man with a star on his uniform staring out one of the third floor windows. The man was examining Sid's army with a frown. It was obvious to Sid that he had not expected his forces to be destroyed so easily.

The four brigades of Sid's army soon had the building surrounded. Connor, Masterson, and Hunter sought out Sid to determine what to do. Connor was the first to find Sid. Walking up to him, Connor asked, "What do you want to do with them? Should we burn them out?"

"No," Sid answered. He pointed to the man he had spotted and said, "That man's a General."

"You can tell from here?" Connor asked incredulous at Sid's confidence in identifying the leader of the enemy army.

"Do you see the star on his uniform?"

"Yes," Connor answered squinting up at the man. He could see the man glaring down at him and Sid.

"That's the symbol for a General," Sid said.

"Does that mean we've won the war?" Connor asked looking up at the building.

Sid shook his head and answered, "No. They have more than one General. I'm surprised to find one this far forward."

Masterson arrived in time to overhear Sid's comment. Shaking his head, he said, "We need to capture one of them."

"There's one up there," Sid said pointing to the man in the third floor window without looking in the man's direction.

The next thing Sid knew, he had been pushed to the ground. He landed about ten feet from where he had been standing. In the spot that he had just vacated were five arrows sticking out of the ground. Looking around to see who had pushed him, he saw Fred and knew who had saved him. He said, "Thanks Fred."

"We better get out of sight of that building if we're going to stand around and talk," Masterson said.

Hunter arrived in time to follow them around the corner of a building. Gesturing back at the building, he asked, "When are we going to assault the building?"

With images of a modern urban assault running through his mind, Sid shook his head. He considered the situation with a little more care. A horrible idea came to him. He turned to Connor and said, "I want ten men in every basement of every building within two hundred paces of that building. Make sure that those inside the building see our men going into the buildings."

Raising an eyebrow, Connor considered Sid and then realized what was being suggested. Turning, he said, "Will do."

Turning to Hunter, Sid said, "Hunter, I want you to find some of the men and women who were just freed and ask if they know of anyone involved in the construction of that building. Find them. We need to know how that building was constructed. There's no way the slavers built that monster without using slave labor."

"Yes, sir," Hunter said. He turned to leave.

"Hunter, there's one more thing before you go. I want you to ask for volunteers to dig a trench around that building. I think five hundred or a thousand men could dig a pretty good sized trench in an hour or two. In case there is a tunnel, I want to uncover it before the enemy has a chance to leave," Sid said.

Turning to Masterson, Sid said, "Masterson, take your warrior women outside the citadel. Have them watch for anyone who is leaving. I don't know if there is a backdoor out of here, but if there is then they are to keep the bad guys from leaving."

Masterson grinned and said, "I'm on it. We'll check all of the likely places for a tunnel."

Sid watched as everyone left to perform their tasks. Turning to Fred, he said, "Let's get our men into position to guard that building. I'd hate for the enemy to charge out the front door unopposed."

Nodding his head, Fred said, "If I were you, I'd just cover the exits with stone and leave them in there to rot."

"That may be a very good idea," Sid said with a smile.

It was an hour before five hundred freed slaves started creating a huge pile of dirt that went around the entire building. About the time they had started, there had been a short burst of excitement from one of the buildings when an escape tunnel was discovered. The discovery had occurred when a part of one of the walls swung open. The men in the basement immediately charged. After a brief scuffle, the occupants of the tunnel scurried back to the slaver headquarters. The opening was quickly blocked off with a wall of stone that was five feet thick. Sid was sure that there were other exits, but they would soon be discovered and blocked off as well.

He went to a building across from the slaver headquarters and watched the third story window. The General appeared occasionally and glared as he watched the activity taking place below him. Each time the General frowned, Sid grinned. Sid turned to Fred and asked, "Do you have any idea what that stone building where that tunnel came out from was used for?"

"You mean that hotel?" Fred asked.

"It does look like a hotel," Sid said with a smile. He figured that important visitors to the slaver headquarters stayed in that hotel while in town.

"What about it?" Fred asked.

"I was thinking that the stone in the building would make excellent filler material for any tunnels that are unearthed," Sid said.

Grinning, Fred nodded his head and said, "You're going to seal them in there, aren't you?"

"You bet."

"Do you want to find some volunteers to dismantle the building?" Fred asked. He was enjoying this. Although he had not been processed through this city, he had a bad experience as a result of someone who worked inside a building just like that. One of his whippings had been a simple demonstration on how to whip someone and he had been picked by chance. He hadn't even done anything wrong. Fifteen lashes later, he was cut down and returned to the slave pen. The owner had been particularly upset at having his stock damaged and took it out on him.

"If you would be so kind," Sid said. He watched Fred walk away to find volunteers who would enjoy taking down the building.

Barson came over to Sid and said, "There were five parks in the citadel. There were small herds of cattle in three of them and herds of horses in two. Olaf moved the animals outside the citadel and we've taken over the parks. I've set up facilities to feed everyone, but housing is in short supply."

"What about all of the houses inside the citadel?" Sid asked.

"A good percentage of them were burnt down during the battle," Barson answered. The smoke from a few buildings that were still burning hung heavy in the air giving weight to his answer.

"I didn't realize the damage was that bad," Sid said. He wondered why it was that when freed, the first thing that many of the people did was destroy exactly what they would need to get their lives back on track. Shaking his head, he asked, "What do we have outside the citadel?"

"All of the farms that were evacuated when the owners retreated to this citadel. Unfortunately, all of the structures on the original properties were torn down when the owners took them over. All that is left are the owner's house, slave quarters, and outbuildings. I doubt you'll find a single person that will accept sleeping in the slave quarters," Barson answered.

"Do we have wood?" Sid asked.

"Yes, we have some wood. It will take about a week to get enough here to build houses," Barson answered. He thought about it and said, "I'll send out some people to see what wood stocks there are in the area."

"Good idea," Sid said. He sighed at the thought of the work ahead of them over the next two weeks. Taking this citadel gave them control over a huge area. Most of the slaves and owners within two days march from there had been inside the citadel. Unless they were careful, the thankful freed slaves could turn into resentful men and women. He said, "Amazing how much work it is making sure that we aren't leaving total chaos behind us."

"I agree with you, General. It is a lot of work. It is also a good thing that we do for these people. This whole area is going to be prosperous for years to come," Barson said. He felt proud of his role in helping to rebuild the area. He believed that grateful men and women would remember him, Olaf, and Alfred for what they had done. It was a rather heady thought for someone his age.

There was a huge shout outside in the street. Based on the excitement being generated, Sid said, "It sounds like they found a tunnel."



-------

Chapter 17


At the sound of a knock on his door, Sid frowned and sat up in the bed. Exhausted from all of the activity before the battle for the citadel, the battle itself, and taking control after the battle, all Sid wanted to do was get a half hour nap. Looking over at the door, he said, "Come in."

Fred opened the door and said, "I'm sorry to disturb you, Sid, but I thought you would want to know about this. There is a woman here to see you."

"A woman?" Sid asked wearily. He was tired of women wanting to sleep with him out of gratitude for being freed. The rules of Crossroads forbade him from sampling the charms of women native to Chaos. He wasn't even allowed to sample the charms of the women from Cassandra until he brought them back to Crossroads.

"Yes. Should I send her up here or will you want to go down to the front room?" Fred asked.

There were times when he really wished that Cynthia had come along to take care of his sexual needs. Standing up, Sid said, "I'll go down there."

"Yes, Sid," Fred said stepping out of Sid's way. When Sid passed him, he smiled and shook his head. He had a good idea that Sid would be very interested in this particular woman. The minute he had met her, she had reminded him of two other women he had known.

Stepping into the front parlor, Sid looked at the woman waiting for him. He recognized her immediately. She was one of the damsels that he had come to find. He hadn't expected to find her in this area. In a soft voice, he said, "Mary of Cassandra. I've been looking for you, but I didn't expect to find you here."

Upon hearing him say her name, Mary knew that Sid was one of the Heroes. She had been hoping that General Sid Jones was related to Gerald Jones. She had to confirm her belief, she asked, "You are a Hero?"

"Yes, my Damsel in Distress. I came here to rescue from your slavery," Sid replied as he moved over to her.

"I have to know, is this a real rescue?" Mary asked. The idea that she would have to wait to be rescued from some other horrible situation was almost too much for her to bear.

"Yes, Mary of Cassandra, this is a real rescue. I will be taking you back to Crossroads," Sid said.

With a sigh of relief, Mary took a moment to examine Sid. Her eyes dropped to his crotch while she tried to estimate the actual size of his package. What she saw pleased her significantly. Licking her lips, she said, "I can't wait."

The hungry look on her face had the usual impact on Sid. Once again, he couldn't help feeling a little intimidated by the hunger that women from Cassandra had for sex. His exhaustion didn't really allow him to think too much about it. He turned towards the door and said, "Fred."

Fred, who had been waiting outside the room, opened the door and entered without saying a word. Sid said, "I need you to find a room for Mary. She'll be staying here with us for the next few days."

With a gesture towards Mary, Fred smiled and said, "Come with me and I'll get a room for you. Are you hungry?"

"Not for food," Mary answered. She turned to examine Sid once again. A shiver of anticipation went through her body at the idea of what she had heard about Earthmen.

Looking over at her, Sid said, "I'll see you after you've gotten settled in."

Sid watched the pair leave the parlor. Exhausted beyond belief, he made his way upstairs and crashed on the bed. He didn't even have a chance to take off his boots before he was sound asleep. After an hour, Fred came into the room and pulled the boots off Sid's feet. Sid didn't even move.

Although he expected Fred to wake him after half an hour, it was the next morning before Sid woke. Climbing down the stairs, he was surprised at all of the activity. Mary was eating breakfast while chatting with Fred. It was obvious that Fred was completely amazed by whatever Mary was telling him.

Taking a seat at the table, Sid loaded a plate with sliced ham, scrambled eggs, sliced tomatoes, melon, cheese, and several rolls. Looking down at his plate, he realized just how much food he had taken. Feeling a little embarrassed, he said, "I hope everyone else has eaten."

Laughing, Fred said, "From what Mary has been telling me, you're going to need all the energy that you can get."

"Oh my," Sid said and looked back down at his plate. His stomach growled impatient at the delay in eating. Winking at Mary, he added, "Maybe I'll manage seconds."

"And here I was hoping you'd go for thirds. Taking care of me is going to require a lot of energy," Mary said with a smile. She licked her lips and leaned over to peer over the edge of the table. The angle was bad and that which she had wanted to see was hidden from view.

Masterson came into the parlor and grabbed a roll. He ripped off a chunk of the roll and held it up to his mouth. Before popping the piece of bread in his mouth, he said, "It looks like the enemy really wants to surrender. If I had to guess, they didn't have any food or water in that big building of theirs."

Looking puzzled, Sid asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, I had a few of our men break their fast at a table I placed in front of the building. It was a simple breakfast with roast of beef, ham, eggs, bread, melons, cheese, fish, chickens, and breakfast pies. You should have seen the men in that building hanging out the windows watching our men eat," Masterson said with a grin. He figured that most of them hadn't eaten in the last day. He popped another piece of the roll in his mouth.

Shaking his head, Sid said, "You're enjoying this too much."

After washing the bread down with some hot tea, Masterson said, "That was just the beginning. After the men were done eating, we threw the left over food into the trench around the building. One man actually fell out of the window."

Peterson hid his face behind his hands and asked, "So what did you do with him?"

"Ah, we tried to throw him back but he didn't really want to go back," Peterson answered with a laugh.

Shaking his head, Sid asked, "So what happened?"

"Well, after we started feeding him another dozen fell out the window," Masterson answered. Ripping a piece of the ham off the bone, he added, "They really are an accident prone group of soldiers. I'm really looking forward to lunch."

"How did the general react?" Sid asked. He looked down at his plate and found that he'd already eaten half of the food on it.

"The man has no sense of humor. He didn't even grin," Masterson answered with a shrug of his shoulders. The enemy general had been furious. Grinning, he added, "The language the man used was quite impressive."

Connor shook his head and said, "I bet it was."

"Maybe you should board up the second floor windows. I'd hate to think of them hurting themselves by falling two floors," Fred said with a smirk. He preferred to think of them hurting themselves by falling three floors, but was tactful enough not to voice his preference aloud.

"I figure it will take at least a week before the general comes down," Sid said. Turning to Connor, he asked, "So how are the freed slaves settling?"

"Well, it was a little rough last night. Too many people and not enough places for them to sleep. Barson is taking a bunch of them out into the country to settle in some of the farms around the citadel. Almost six hundred of them volunteered to join with us," Connor answered.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Sid asked knowing they had suffered significant loses during the attack. The defender always had the advantage.

"Not at all. We have close to six thousand here. We can add a new man to every ten man squad without much harm," Connor said. Shaking his head, he said, "We lost almost that many in the attack. We've got over a thousand wounded. Most of the wounds are minor, but we'll lose another hundred for the duration of the war. It'll take them that long to recover."

Sid had been afraid of that. He sprinkled some salt on his tomato quarters while thinking about what to do with the wounded. Because he had conquered the citadel, he became the owner of the citadel. It was his to dispose of as he desired. Looking up, he said, "Give the seriously wounded men houses in the citadel and the rank of guard. Make the highest ranking man of them the Captain of the Guard. When they heal, they'll be in charge of the defense of the citadel."

Peterson nodded his head and said, "Your uncle did exactly the same thing when he established his citadel."

Sid had not known that, but it made sense to him. Nodding his head, he said, "Some of the lesser wounded men we'll set up in some of the surrounding towns. Let them be the night watchmen. When they heal, let them decide what they're going to do."

"What about their pay?" Peterson asked.

"We'll continue to pay them so long as they continue to serve as guards," Sid answered.

Peterson, Masterson, and Connor all looked at each other. They knew that Sid's decision would reach all of the men. One of the great fears on a campaign of this magnitude was that a man would be wounded and then left behind to beg for a living. More often than not, groups of such men would band together to become bandits. Sid's solution of establishing the men in positions where they could recover their lives would bind his army to him more than ever. Peterson said, "I will tell Barson to make the arrangements for that."

Sid nodded and said, "If any man expresses a strong desire for a different future, then do what you can to make it happen."

"Of course," Peterson said. He knew that was how Barson's father had ended up with the Inn.

Albert entered the room and looked around nervously. He wondered why he had been asked to join the morning briefing with the General. He took a seat while mumbling his greetings to everyone. Sid turned to Albert and said, "Ah, good that you're here. I want to fix up the walls of the citadel. Since you tore them down, I figured you would know how to build them up again."

Albert looked from one man to the next hoping that one of them would rescue him. When no help was forth coming, he said, "I suppose I know what needs to be done. I'll need a lot of people working for me."

"We have thousands of freed slaves who need work," Connor said.

"What about the other businesses?" Albert asked.

"You haven't been doing all of that work yourself, have you?" Sid asked with a grin.

"No. I've had Michelson helping me with planning, Jacob has been handling the scouting for locations, and Eric has been dealing with the people. Barson has Dinkins dealing with the logistics of supplies," Albert answered. Even as he answered it, it dawned on him that he had built a pretty large organization.

"So put Michelson in charge of the businesses," Sid said.

Albert shook his head and said, "Eric would be better."

"Why Eric?" Masterson asked.

Looking a little embarrassed, Albert said, "Michelson has a personality that is a bit more like you. Eric is more like Connor."

The comment earned him a glare from Masterson and chuckles from around the room. Paterson said, "Don't worry about it Masterson. You're the best at what you do. It's just that you aren't a leader of men."

"Why do you say that?" Masterson asked feeling angry.

"You are great at planning. You put resources where you need them to accomplish your goal. The problem is that you don't see the men as being anything more than resources," Sid answered knowing that he was the only one in the room who could say that to Masterson and have the man accept his word.

"You're wrong," Masterson declared.

"Name ten spearmen," Sid challenged.

The challenge stunned Masterson. After being on the road with Sid for more than nine months, he realized that he didn't know any of the soldiers by name. He knew the names of the leaders, but that was only because he considered the units by the names of those who lead them. He glanced at Fred and realized the reason why no man would ever swear service to him was because no man would willingly become associated with someone who wouldn't see the person who served. Standing up, he said, "If you'll excuse me, I have a campaign to plan."

"Of course," Sid said watching Masterson carefully. He knew that he had upset the man, but felt that it was for the best.

Once Masterson had left the room, Albert said, "I hope I didn't upset him."

"No, you didn't upset him. You gave an honest appraisal of the men working for you. I was the one who upset him. I just told him the reason why he's an advisor rather than a leader," Sid said. Gesturing to the others in the room, he said, "Connor and Peterson are both leaders. They have men who answer to them and will willingly follow them where ever they lead them. Masterson doesn't."

Peterson and Connor both nodded their heads in agreement. Albert just answered, "Oh."

When everyone except Sid and Mary had left the room, the young woman turned to Sid and said, "You are so sexy when you're taking command."

Sid examined Mary for a moment and said, "You're sexy all of the time."

"Thank you, Sid," Mary said. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. In a soft voice, she whispered in his ear, "I can't wait to get to Crossroads with you."

"I can't wait either," Sid said shifting in his seat. He was feeling incredibly horny and she wasn't helping any.

"So when do we leave for there?" she asked.

"After I've put down the slavers," Sid answered knowing that she wasn't going to like the answer.

"What?" she asked in a loud voice that bordered on being a scream. Wide eyed, she stared at him and said, "I'm horny now."

"I'm sorry, but there is another damsel to rescue."

"How many damsels are you rescuing?" she asked.

"There are at least four that are in my territory that were enslaved. I've already rescued Laura and you. I didn't even know that Laura was in my area. I was too late to rescue Sandra Lawyer. As far as I know, Mandy Cook is being held down in the south."

Mary frowned and asked, "What do you mean, you were too late to rescue Sandra Lawyer?"

"She died before I found her," Sid answered. Seeing the shocked expression on her face, he said, "Fred had tried to help her, but it was too late."

"You have to save Mandy Cook," Mary said thinking that she was actually lucky to be alive. She decided that if the slavers were killing damsels, then Sid had better rescue as many as he could.

"That's the plan. While I'm out searching for Mandy, you are going back to River Crossing where Laura is waiting. It's a safe place for you to stay," Sid said.

It was later that night when Masterson, Connor, and Peterson met with Sid to discuss the plans for the campaign. Masterson pointed to a map and said, "We are going to have to divide your forces into three divisions. One division will need to take the road east of here and then turn southwards. One division will need to take the road west of here until they reach the next major crossroads. They'll turn southwards and continue our expansion. The last division will have to move south from here."

Sid examined the map and saw that they had taken everything below the east-west road that ran to the citadel. Further south, there were a number of medium sized towns that they would have to take before progressing to the next major citadel. He said, "We've already got four thousand men off to the east, three thousand off to the west, and six thousand here. What's the difference?"

"You've been directing all three groups. The distances are now reaching the point where each group needs to operate independently. You're going to have to appoint someone to lead each division," Masterson answered.

Sid was silent for a minute as he considered the situation. Realizing that Masterson was correct, he said, "I want you and Hunter to head out to the east. Hunter will command the division, but you'll do the planning for him. I want Peterson and Forester to head west with Forester in charge of the division."

Masterson asked, "Who will be providing logistics support for me?"

"I'll have to let you have Barson. I'll keep Olaf," Sid answered.

Shaking his head, Peterson said, "Olaf, Barson, and I will probably hang back a little so that we can coordinate supplies."

Connor looked over at Sid and asked, "Shouldn't I go to the east instead of Peterson?"

"No, I want you to stay here and train the new troops. We'll send back volunteers to here. You train them and then send them forward to us when they're ready."

"I can do that."

Shaking his head, he said, "When you have sufficient men trained, I want you to put three brigades under the command of Jackson and send him to reinforce Danny Sun's army."

"Why?" Connor asked with a frown.

"We're facing a significant portion of the slaver's army. Every report that I've been getting is that Danny Sun's army is not being very effective. I think that Forester can revitalize what he has there and draw some of the pressure off of us," Sid said. The goal was to destroy the slavers and if Sun wasn't effective, the slavers would ultimately retreat into his area.

Masterson nodded his head in agreement. He said, "If Danny Sun becomes more effective, the enemy is liable to pull an extra eight thousand men back to his area. That'll save us a lot of work."

"How are our supplies?" Sid asked. Logistics was a full time job. It required keeping track of everything an army required to move and fight. It required positioning resources where you needed them even if it was behind the army, where the army was located, or behind enemy lines.

Peterson pulled out a map that Sid had never seen before. After clearing a spot on the table, Peterson spread the map out for everyone to see. Pointing to various locations, he said, "As you can see, we have herds of cattle at these ten locations. We have grain stores at these twenty locations. Vegetables and fruits are available from these locations marked by these symbols here. The troops operating to the west can be supplied by these roads. The troops operating to the east can be supplied by these roads. We are supplied by these roads. We can move supplies from our forward storage areas to any one of your divisions in two days."

"Excellent," Sid said. He looked down at the map and pointed to the nearest citadel. Looking around at the other men, he said, "Gentlemen, we'll meet outside the walls of this citadel in a month."

Masterson said, "It'll take you two weeks to get there. What will you be doing until then?"

"I'll be waiting for the general to come out of his tower," Sid answered with a smile.

Mary stared across the table at Sid with a lovesick expression on her face. In a soft voice, she asked, "Isn't Sid the handsomest man you've ever seen?"

While the other men stared at her, Fred chuckled at the comment. He said, "I think you and Laura are going to have a lot to talk about."



-------

Chapter 18


The planning meeting had just ended when fifty mounted men rode up to the citadel on horses that were nearly exhausted. After a short exchange with the guards at the gate, the riders were directed to where Sid was staying. They rode through the streets at high speed rather than the sedate pace that would be normal. The leader jumped off his horse and ran into the building searching for Sid. He burst into the room and, spotting Sid, said, "There are fifteen thousand enemy troops headed this way. They are a week east of here and marching quickly."

The entire group of men seated around the table stared at the messenger in shock. It took Sid a moment to recover while his mind struggled to come to grips with the news that a force that size was headed their way. During the months of fighting, they had tackled forces up to three thousand. He calculated that they had already dealt with close to fifteen thousand enemy troops. Turning to Connor, he said, "Sent out scouts to the south and west. We've got to make sure that there aren't any other forces bearing down on us."

Connor nodded his head and rushed out of the room. Masterson was staring at the table top and asked, "Where did they get so many troops?"

The rider said, "Just before we spotted the army moving this way, we got word that Danny Sun's army was destroyed in a battle two weeks ago."

Sid leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. Holding his clasped hands in front of his mouth, he said, "We've been estimating their army to be a hundred thousand in size. We've taken out fifteen thousand so far. I have to assume that the other generals had similar results. That should mean that the army has been cut in half. Despite that, they are able to pull together fifteen thousand men to face us. It doesn't add up."

"They must have a larger army than we estimated," Masterson said feeling sick to his stomach. The idea of six thousand men trying to hold off an army of fifteen thousand was too horrible to contemplate. Looking over at Sid, he said, "We are going to have to retreat."

"We can't do that. Fifteen thousand men will chase us all over Chaos," Sid said.

"Do you know how hard it will be to hold off fifteen thousand men from inside this citadel?" Masterson asked. It had taken them two weeks to bring down the walls of the citadel. Another army might have taken a little longer, but the walls would have come down at some point. This army wouldn't even have that problem. There were four areas that had been destroyed and not yet repaired.

"Yes, I do," Sid answered. He knew it would be better to engage the enemy using their guerilla tactics, but he didn't see any choice in the matter. Sid turned to Masterson and asked, "How long do you think a siege of this citadel would normally have taken?"

"Well, probably a month or two."

"How long did it take us?"

"Two weeks," Masterson answered.

"The enemy is expecting us to be outside the walls of the citadel with our backs to their forces," Sid said. Staring off into space, he said, "I bet that another ten to fifteen thousand are moving down from the south and at least five to ten thousand are moving in from the west. I bet they were planning on hitting us like three hammers with the citadel serving as the anvil."

"We're dead," Masterson said.

"They don't know the anvil has been neutralized," Sid said. He reached over and grabbed the map that they had been using in the planning session earlier. Standing, he spread the map over the table. He said, "Let's assume that we have forces approaching from the east, south, and west. It won't do them any good if they arrive at different times, so let us assume that they are all headed here with the intent of showing up in a week."

"Seems reasonable," Masterson said.

Sid pointed to some locations on the map and said, "We destroy the bridges and ferries along this river. That will slow the forces coming from the west. If they use boats to ferry over, it will take forever to get that many men across the river. They'll have to construct a temporary bridge. I figure that should delay them by about three days."

"So what," Masterson said sounding very frustrated. He pointed to the south and east before adding, "There's nothing to slow down the other two groups. So rather than facing thirty five thousand troops, we're facing twenty five thousand."

"We set a fire to the south," Sid said pointing to the map. Turning to the messenger, Sid asked, "What are our men doing to the east?"

"They are heading here," the messenger answered. He looked around the room at the tight faces wondering if it would have been better for them to head north rather than here.

"So that will give us about nine thousand troops to stand against fifteen thousand," Sid said looking over at Masterson.

"Still, we'll be facing too many enemy troops. Even with us bottled up in this citadel, we'll eventually be facing fifty thousand troops," Masterson said.

"We aren't going to be inside the citadel," Sid replied with a smile as a plan formed in his mind.

"You said that we weren't going to retreat," Masterson said.

"That's right. We're going to engage their forces outside the walls of the citadel before they have a chance to organize for a real battle," Sid said. Turning to the messenger, Sid said, "Tell me all about the force that is heading this way."

A week later, Sid stood on the walls of the citadel watching the enemy troops arrive. Three thousand of the troops had moved into the cleared area around the citadel. There was no way for the enemy to know that Sid had cleared away the trees from that area just to make room for them.

His forces were on the field facing the enemy with their backs against the walls of the citadel. They were lined up in groups of a hundred with twenty men across the front and five men deep. Seven thousand troops created seventy such groups. The tension among the men grew as they found themselves facing three thousand soldiers standing in a line that was three hundred soldiers wide and ten deep. The rear ranks were still filling while more soldiers slowly joined those on the field.

From Sid's position, he could see a long stream of men moving down the tree lined road to the battle field. It was an impressive line of men being six men across and two thousand men long. As impressive as the sight might have been, that paled compared to the noise of that many men marching in step.

Sid waved a green flag to signal to his men that it was time to start the battle. There were no yells of excitement or battle cries. The only sound that filled the air was that of the trebuchets firing. A hundred of the small trebuchets started pelting stones the size of a fist on the enemy troops even as they moved into formation. Ten large trebuchets tossed stones twice that size down the length of the road. Once started, the rain of stone was constant and devastating.

Standing beside Sid, Fred watched the rain of stone. With a shudder, he said, "Those poor bastards."

Sid understood Fred's statement. Four thousand freed slaves had worked day and night shaping the battle field. Huge thick walls prevented the enemy from spreading out over the field. Three thousand men were squeezed into an area the size of a football field. The small trebuchets had been set up to provide total coverage of that area. The effect was total devastation of the forces bottled up in that area.

After ten minutes had passed, Sid waved a red flag and the trebuchets stopped firing. Looking across the battle field, Sid shook his head. Turning to Masterson, he said, "That's a quarter of their men out of commission."

Peterson stared across the field in horror and said, "I've never seen anything like that."

"We still have ten thousand enemy troops out there," Sid said. Although that was a huge number of troops, the odds had just changed significantly in their favor.

"The riders are ready with the 'Molotov Cocktails, '" Masterson said. He'd never heard of such a thing, but a demonstration of their effectiveness had convinced him that Sid's plan was going to work. The Chaos version was a clay container filled with oil from a ground seep rather than gasoline in a glass bottle.

"It is almost time to slice 'em and dice 'em," Sid said. Fifty riders would move out and toss Molotov Cocktails into the line of enemy troops, cutting off a thousand of them from support. Two thousand men would move in and take care of the thousand troops. First they'd hit the troops with a barrage of arrows and then move in using the Zulu tactic that had been so effective in taking the citadel. They would back off and then go after another thousand using the same tactic.

The men watched as Sid's troops moved out across the field to take prisoners. It wasn't long before they marched back across the field with a hundred prisoners. The number of men who had survived the pelting of rocks was shockingly small. Masterson said, "I can't believe it."

A messenger climbed up to where Sid was watching the battle. Breathless from the climb, it took him a minute to catch his breath. Once he recovered, he said, "It looks like our attack killed a general and four colonels. We captured one colonel."

Sid nodded his head thinking that he would have Masterson interrogate the colonel. He said, "We can expect another ten colonels to be riding with the rest of the troops."

"The scouts are looking for them," the messenger said. They had been given orders to capture or kill as many of the higher ranking officers of the enemy army as possible.

Turning to Masterson, Sid said, "I expect that half of the remaining forces will survive to retreat. They'll either move back east or join the southern forces. If they join the southern forces, that will slow them down by another day or two while they reconsider their plans for us. We can expect the western forces in two days."

Pointing down the road, Masterson said, "They aren't turning back. They're charging."

Sid turned and looked at the troops running towards them. He couldn't believe his eyes. He shouted, "Those idiots are committing suicide!"

"Not if we keep standing here doing nothing," Masterson said.

Turning, Sid grabbed the green flag and waved it again. A minute later, the trebuchets started firing loads of rocks on the advancing army. The charging troops didn't stand a chance. Sid watched as hundreds of men fell as the stones rained down amongst them. The handful that managed to make it across the field was met with overwhelming force. It was a slaughter.

Masterson shook his head and said, "The ones in the back don't know what happened on the battlefield. There's no one in charge to order them to stop."

Sid was reminded of lemmings charging off the cliff. Each lemming would follow the one in front; unaware of the doom that awaited it. Watching as the enemy men raced down the road, Sid said, "This is insane."

Thirty minutes later, the enemy stopped their attack and retreated. Less than three thousand had held back. Sick to his stomach, Sid looked over the devastation that was the battlefield. Close to nine thousand were dead or wounded in the field. Bodies were piled in front of the citadel and the road leading to it. Another two thousand were dead or wounded from the slice and dice operation. A thousand had fled into the woods where they were being hunted down.

Peterson looked over the carnage. His face was pale at the sight. Shaking his head, he said, "I didn't expect that."

"Neither did I," Sid said. He turned to look west and said, "In two days we have to do this all over again."

Masterson said, "It's time to start collecting the bodies."

"Let's go," Sid said heading towards the stairs.

"You're not going anywhere," Masterson said while grabbing Sid by the arm.

"Why not?"

"There are still enemy troops in the area. We don't want you to get killed," Peterson answered.

Bowing to necessity, Sid said, "Have half of the men take care of the survivors and the bodies. Have the other half move the siege equipment to the western side of the citadel. Ask the freemen for volunteers to finish preparing the next two battlefields."

"What will you do?" Masterson asked.

"I guess I'll go talk to the general. Maybe the events of today will convince him to come out," Sid said pointing to the General who had been watching the battle from the roof of the building in which he was trapped.

The general had watched the battle in shock. It was obvious that he had not expected the result. Pacing nervously on the building, he kept looking to the south and west expecting two additional armies to appear. The fact that they didn't show up as expected convinced him that this whole area was lost. When Sid arrived at the building, the General and the dozen men still with him surrendered.

Sid sat at the table watching the General eat. He found it hard to believe that the man was able to force down any food after seeing the carnage on the battlefield. Of course, the fact that the man hadn't eaten anything for a week may have had a little to do with it. Sid said, "I take it the plan was for you to hold out until the three armies arrived."

The General frowned and asked, "What happened to the other two armies?"

"We burned the bridges to the west and set fire to the woods to the south. They were delayed. I expect the western army the day after tomorrow," Sid answered.

The General shook his head and said, "I couldn't believe what I saw. You didn't even allow them to prepare for the battle."

"Why would I allow fifteen thousand troops to get ready to attack me?" Sid asked.

The general was wise enough not to answer. He had ordered his archers to fire on Sid when Sid had come out to parley. He shrugged his shoulders and took another bite of the chicken. He studied Sid unable to believe that someone so young had managed to destroy almost thirty thousand of his army. If Sid's efforts were successful over the next two engagements, the slaver army was going to be in trouble. After swallowing the bite of chicken, he asked, "What are your plans?"

"That's a good question. In fact, that was the question that I was going to ask you. What were your plans?" Sid answered.

"Our plan was to take you Heroes out one at a time. We took care of Danny Sun. We were going to destroy you and then move on to take care of Malcolm Chandler," the General answered.

"Why did you start with Danny Sun?" Sid asked wondering how it was that the general knew that he was a Hero.

"Carl had a personal grudge against Danny. He wanted to make sure that Danny knew he was the first to fall and that his death would lead to the deaths of the rest of the Heroes," the General answered.

Not reacting to the name, Sid nodded his head and said, "That makes sense. Why did you go after me next?"

"When Carl learned that Gerald Jones was dead and you were taking his place, he was overjoyed. You're inexperienced and we figured that you'd be easy to take down. Your successes surprised me. To tell the truth, I was sure that I'd take you down before they were able to take down Danny Sun," the General answered unaware that he had given Sid far more information about his enemy than he could guess.

"I guess Carl will be upset when he learns that his plans for me failed," Sid said in an offhand casual manner.

The general shivered at the thought of how Carl would react. In a way, he was glad that he was a prisoner. Shaking his head, he said, "I imagine a couple of people are going to loose their heads over this."

"I'm sure," Sid said. His mind was working at the speed of light. The general knew way too much about his background and Heroes in general. It appeared as if this Carl person was the source of all that knowledge. Taking a sip of his watered wine, Sid tried to reason out how Carl knew so much. There was only one answer that came to him and that answer suggested that Carl had been a Hero at one time. He said, "I never met Carl. I'm sure he was a very talented Hero at one time."

"One of the best," the General said.

The conversation continued while the General ate his meal. Using leading questions, Sid probed for information about Carl. The General told Sid all he knew about Carl. In particular, Carl had been a Hero from Earth until captured during a mission. After two years of torture, Carl had escaped and sought revenge by enslaving his captors. The slave trade had spread from that humble beginning.

Power over his previous captors was not the only thing Carl was after. He felt that the other Heroes should have rescued him. Since none of them had come to his rescue, he had declared war on them. He had particularly hard feelings towards Jonas Alexander, Danny Sun, Malcolm Chandler, and Gerald Jones. Some of those hard feelings spilled over onto Sid and that had motivated Carl to send the overwhelming force against him.

The news was even worse than that. It also appeared that Carl had found a means to go from Earth to Chaos and back without having to pass through Crossroads. That had come out when the General had mentioned that Carl was upset that his portal wouldn't allow him to carry Earth weapons to Chaos. Although he couldn't bring weapons, he was attempting to manufacture cannons in a foundry located outside of his principle city based on plans he had brought from Earth. Sid shuddered at the idea of cannons on Chaos.

After thirty minutes of eating, the face of the General suddenly paled. He clutched his stomach and stumbled away from the table towards the ditch. He barely reached it before throwing up all of the food he had been eating. Sid walked up behind the general and asked, "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to gorge yourself after fasting?"

The General groaned and curled up on the ground in response to the stomach cramps. Disgusted, Sid gestured for one of the guards to come over. Pointing to the General, he said, "Take him to the slave pens with the other prisoners."

"Yes, General," the man said with a grin.

Sid walked away from the meeting thinking about what he had learned. It was clear to him that the other Heroes needed to get the information he had extracted from the General. He didn't know anything about this Carl person, but he was sure that Malcolm would know. The news that Danny Sun had been killed was very bad. He had an entire flank exposed to the enemy now.

Sid walked around a corner and found that he was faced with a huge crowd of the freed slaves. He noticed that most of them were wearing a blue cloth around their neck, the same color blue his troops had worn on their arms when attacking the citadel. Surprised, he came to a stop and asked, "What's going on?"

"We want to join your army," one of the men at the front of the crowd answered. Behind him, the rest of the men and women roared their approval. Most of them had worked to build the walls that had trapped the enemy. In the nature of men everywhere, they had complained the entire time. In seeing the results of their efforts, any dissatisfaction evaporated.

"You are welcome to join my army," Sid answered. The roar of approval almost drowned out his reply.

"What can we do?"

Sid answered, "We need to finish building the walls that we started earlier this week."

The man who had asked about joining the army said, "We watched the battle. Some of us felt that if you had put a picket fence across the field, they wouldn't have even been able to attack your men."

Sid nodded his head in agreement. It was likely they wouldn't have made it across the field. It was also likely that the second and third groups would have seen the picket and figured out what was happening. Nodding his head, he asked, "What would the second wave of attackers thought when they burst into the containment area and saw the fence still standing?"

"I don't know what they would have thought, but I would have turned around and run," answered the man. He slapped his forehead and said, "I see what you're getting at. We'll build those walls for you, General."

"After you men and women finish the wall, I'll have Connor start your training," Sid said.

The man leading the group shouted, "You heard him, men! Let's build us a slaver trap!"

Sid watched the men march off to get to work. He knew that by the evening they would have finished the fortifications. Considering the news he had gotten, he wondered if it would be enough.

He hadn't gone a dozen steps when he found Albert sitting on the ground and his head in his hands. Kneeling down, Sid asked, "What's the matter, Albert?"

"I can't believe what I did this afternoon," Albert said. He looked up at Sid. His face was tear-streaked.

Sid didn't need to ask for any clarification. He had watched the destruction and knew that Albert had seen it from even closer. Albert had been directing the fire. Sid took a seat on the ground beside Albert and said, "I know it is tough. I felt like throwing up when I saw what was going on."

"I did throw up," Albert admitted. He didn't have a problem with launching rock after rock at a wall. He didn't have a problem with watching the two sides fighting it out after the wall came down. He did have a problem with pummeling the enemy from a distance where they couldn't defend themselves.

"I don't blame you. You know that there were fifteen thousand of them. There was no way we could beat them in a direct fight," Sid said.

"I understand that. It doesn't help to know it, though," Albert said.

"That's why you're one of the good guys. The slavers wouldn't feel that way," Sid said. He leaned against the wall. Gesturing to the crowd of men who were working on the fortifications, he said, "They know and understand the slavers much better than we do. They saw what we did and want to join us in our fight."

Having seen the scars on the backs of a quarter of the men, Albert knew that Sid was right. The slavers wouldn't have cared except at the loss of slave stock it would have represented. He said, "You know that they've taken to wearing the blue armbands around their necks. They call it their freedom collar."

"I wondered about that," Sid said.



-------

Chapter 19


The sickly sweet smell of burning flesh hung in the air and drifted down the road to the west. For two days, the enemy had marched into the wind smelling what they knew to be burning bodies. They didn't know who had died or how many. The result of the assault on their noses, a constant reminder that they were marching into a deadly situation, was disheartening. When the forces arrived at the citadel, their moral plummeted upon seeing Sid's army.

Five thousand men of Sid's army were waiting for the slaver army. They were standing in front of a wall of cloth that hid the trebuchets from view by the enemy. The reason for the cloth wasn't to hide the trebuchets, but to prevent the men operating the war engines from having to watch the results of their actions.

The General leading the enemy army sized up the situation in front of the citadel very quickly, but not correctly. He assumed that the walls to the sides were to provide cover for archers. He felt that the cloth was being used to keep the sun off Sid's men. He immediately tasked three hundred men to attack each wall to dislodge the hypothetical archers.

The first line of men turned to their assigned mission. He watched them jump around the base of the wall for a minute before they managed to climb up to the top. When he saw his men atop the wall turning to face him with exaggerated shrugs of their shoulders, the General decided his forces had moved into place too quick for Sid's forces to fortify those positions. He turned to the Colonel beside him and said, "That young pup doesn't know to put his forces in place before the enemy arrives."

"Yes, sir," the Colonel answered. He looked around and didn't like what he was seeing. It was obvious to him that Sid had already engaged another force and had emerged victorious. Otherwise, there would have been no forces standing against them. He looked over his shoulder to the west to see if there was anyone behind them.

The General didn't view the confined space as a problem. He ordered his men to line up three hundred wide and forty deep. They would charge at the weak forces that were directly in front of them. They would smash through the enemy's line like a sword through water and then split into two forces to roll up the remainder of the enemy. Smiling he gave the orders to his Colonels. The Colonels didn't have a chance to forward the orders to the men.

From his position on the wall of the citadel, Sid waved the green flag to start the bombardment. The small trebuchets launched their loads of rocks. It is very easy for the modern mind to undervalue an attack of that form. Thirty rocks, each weighing about a third of pound, were launched with enough velocity to rise into the air and then fall two hundred yards away. The momentum of the rock was sufficient to crash through a wooden shield before breaking the bones of the man underneath. Even after hitting a man, the stone would often carom in another direction taking out a second man. In modern terms, that rock was equivalent to a half of a brick falling seven stories and landing on a person.

The General watched the rocks rise into the air and then fall amongst his men. Men dropped to the ground all around him. Despite his shock at the nature of the defense, he knew that the only thing that would save them would be to close the distance between them and the enemy. He shouted, "Charge!"

It was too little and too late. The men around him ran forward to meet the enemy. Those out of earshot stood their position and fell to the falling rocks. Less than five hundred men ran forward with the General. It wasn't until they were almost across the field that they realized they were a pitiful force facing ten times as many troops.

The General looked over his shoulder and saw his troops falling under the rain of rocks. He stopped running and shouted, "Halt!"

The men charging across the field with him stopped and turned to look at the General. Disgusted, he threw his sword to the ground and shouted, "I surrender."

The men around the General followed his actions. From above, Sid watched as the few men standing threw their weapons down on the ground. He waved the red flag that would stop the barrage of rocks. His men moved out to collect the prisoners.

Masterson watched the battle from beside Sid. Nodding his head, he said, "That General is a little smarter than the last one."

"He saved half of his men by surrendering," Sid said in agreement. He had held off signaling the attack until the General had organized his forces in the hope of such an outcome.

"One more battle to go and the citadel will be secure," Masterson said pointing to the south. They expected the southern forces to arrive the next day.

"Yes, the citadel will be secure for the moment," Sid said. He looked off to the east and said, "We have an exposed flank to the east though."

"We've left hundreds of groups of fifty and a hundred men in the cities, towns, and villages in the area that we've taken. We'll pull them out of the center of our area and send them to the river crossings to the east. That will give us another five thousand men along our border," Masterson said. He was giving voice to a strategy that they were already implementing. Barson had been dispatched to send the word along the supply lines. In two weeks, men would be showing up along the river crossings to build fortifications. Soldiers would be showing up to staff the fortifications.

"We'll need to move into Danny Sun's territory if we're going to be successful in this campaign," Sid said. Shaking his head, he said, "I'd hate to win every battle but lose the war."

Masterson said, "I'm sure that some of his troops remain and a good percentage of his territory is still free. We'll have to step in and stop the slavers from taking over that territory. We'll move in from the north and work our way south until we encounter the enemy. While we're doing that, we'll collect Danny's troops under our banner."

Frowning, Sid looked over at Masterson and asked, "Who is this 'we' you keep talking about? We still have a large army to fight here."

"I was thinking that you should send Hunter and Forester," Masterson said. He looked down at the ground and then polished his fingernails on his shirt. He added, "You might want to have one of the best strategic and tactical minds in Chaos go with them."

Grinning, Sid winked at Peterson and said, "I'm busy here."

Masterson bristled and then realized that Sid was joking. Shaking his head, he asked, "What do you think of the idea?"

"It sounds good to me. We'll just have to decide what resources you'll get after the battle tomorrow," Sid answered. For the past week, he had been sending out scouts to track the progress of the armies approaching the citadel. His initial estimates had been remarkably accurate.

Masterson said, "I'll get to working out some plans."

Sid nodded and watched Masterson head off to his quarters. Turning to Peterson, he said, "You know, we keep making plans for the overall campaign and we keep finding ourselves in a position where we can't follow them. I wonder if Masterson has noticed that."

"He's commented on it several times," Peterson said with a grin.

"I guess we'll go through the exercise again in two days," Sid said. He looked to the south wishing he knew what was happening in that direction. Two weeks march south of them was another citadel. Taking it would give Sid control over half of his assigned territory. He sighed at the thought and wondered how long it would take to win this war.

"What are you thinking about?"

"We've been fighting for eleven months," Sid answered.

"That's right. It was almost a year ago that we left the Jones Citadel," Peterson said. He looked around and said, "You've done something pretty remarkable here. You've built up an army of almost twenty thousand men in less than a year. You've taken enough territory to become a king. In another eleven months, I'll expect you to become a king."

Looking over at Peterson, Sid asked, "A king?"

"Sure, you own all of the land from here to the Jones Citadel and bounded on the east and west by the Black and Green Rivers. That's a huge territory and every man, woman, and child in it owes you for the freedom you've given them. That is enough to make you a king," Peterson answered.

Seeing that the prisoners were being taken to the slave pens, Sid turned away from the battlefield. He shook his head and said, "I don't want to be a king. All I want to do is defeat slavery and rescue a couple of friends."

Fred shook his head at the lack of ambition that Sid had announced. He chuckled and said, "All you want to do is defeat slavery. I find that statement humorous. Before you came, I didn't believe that anyone could do that. After being with you for so long, I'm convinced that you will do that, but there is nothing minor about that accomplishment."

Looking over at Fred, Sid said, "We aren't even halfway there. Tomorrow we have another battle and we had better be ready for it."

Fred said, "Then I suggest that you get some rest."

Later that afternoon, Sid was walking around the citadel inspecting the trebuchets. Albert was walking beside him and pointing out the signs of wear. After examining the tenth trebuchet, Sid asked, "What is your honest opinion of our readiness?"

"The large trebuchets are all in good shape. We haven't used them that much. The small trebuchets should last tomorrow, but that is all. I wouldn't trust them after the next couple of volleys," Albert answered. The wood in the arms was beginning to show signs of wear. There were minor splits that he had repaired by wrapping the wood with wet rope. When the rope had dried, it had shrunk reinforcing the integrity of the beams. It was a stop-gap measure.

"It will have to do. I don't think that you'll have to launch too many volleys tomorrow. Some of the men who had climbed onto the barriers escaped south. I'm sure they've told the approaching army what to expect," Sid said.

"I've set up the ballistae so that they shoot down the road. They won't be as effective as the trebuchet, but they are frightening. There's nothing scarier than a log flying at you," Albert said. He tried to look energetic, but his voice sounded tired.

"You sound tired."

"I am," Albert answered.

"Have George take over your command for now. I want you head back to River Crossing for some rest and recreation," Sid said.

"Yes, General," Albert answered. Although he tried to look disappointed, he wasn't very successful. The fact was that he was exhausted and appreciated the chance to rest. He looked over to one of the other siege engineers and said, "George, you're in charge now."

"Albert, get a ride on one of the supply wagons and get some rest," Sid said.

"Yes, General," Albert said. He turned to leave and then paused. Turning back to face Sid, he said, "Thank you, General."

"Go. You deserve some rest after all you've done the past nine months," Sid said.

George watched Albert leave and asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"Tomorrow, I want you to use the large trebuchets to launch burning oil down the road and into the woods to both sides of the road. Load them with the big jars that splatter an area that is ten paces across," Sid said thinking that medieval warfare was really a nasty business.

George gestured to a crew working on one of the trebuchets and said, "We'll be using the large jars with oil tomorrow. Fill them with oil and stack them by the large trebuchets."

"Double check all of the trebuchets. If there are any that concern you, then pull them out of service," Sid said. If one failed, he didn't want George blaming Albert.

"Yes, General."

"Move the ballistae so that they cover the battlefield from both sides. I want fifty of them to a side and aimed at the wall opposite of them. I want to make sure that when the enemy charges there will be bolts flying through the air. We have enough of the ballista that the whole area in front of us can be turned into a death zone," Sid said.

George looked down at the ground and said, "It takes two minutes to reload a ballista."

"So you'll fire a quarter of them at a time. Stagger out each quarter a little so that there is always a bolt in the air," Sid said wishing that Albert was still there. It was his hope that they wouldn't need to fight the next morning.

"Yes, General," George said.

"You are familiar with the flags?"

"Just the green and the red flags," George answered.

"If I wave the yellow flag, you are to stop firing because our men will be charging into the field. I'd hate for us to kill our own men," Sid said. Although he hoped it wasn't necessary, he added, "While they are fighting you should make sure that all of the ballistae are loaded just in case our men have to retreat."

"Yes, General," George said. He asked, "What is the black flag for?"

"That's to signal a retreat," Sid answered. He said, "You're to provide cover fire for the men by firing all of the ballistae at once and then retreat back into the citadel. Do you understand?"

"Yes, General."

Sid left the area feeling uneasy about George's ability to handle the battle the next day. He decided that he would inspect the area at dawn the next day to make sure that everything was as it was supposed to be. He hated to second guess the men under him in that manner, but it was better to be safe than sorry. A lot of lives depended on George doing what was expected of him.

A rider came down the road from the north. Seeing Sid, the man rode over to him. Sid recognized him as one of the scouts he had sent out to watch the southern army. The scout dismounted and led his horse to where Sid waited. Once there, he said, "They are camped a half day's march from here."

"In the clearing we prepared for them?"

"Yes," the scout answered.

"Good," Sid said with a nod of his head. He had men in the woods to prevent the enemy from successfully scouting out the area. At an hour before sunset, they would return to the citadel. That would not leave the enemy scouts much time to explore the area around the citadel.

"The enemy seems a little nervous. The men who escaped from here during the battle caught up with them an hour before they hit the campsite," the scout said.

Sid hoped that the enemy wouldn't try coming through the woods. Nodding his head, he said, "I was afraid that would happen. We'll see what they decide to do."

"Yes, General," the scout said.

The next morning Sid inspected his preparations for the battle. All was in place as he had requested. He walked over to George and said, "For the next fifteen minutes, I want you to launch as many jars of burning oil into the woods that you can."

George stared at Sid and said, "The enemy hasn't arrived yet."

"True, but their scouts are out there in the woods," Sid replied.

"Yes, General," George said before turning to carry out his orders.

Peterson looked over at Sid and asked, "What are you doing?"

"I don't want them to come through the woods," Sid answered.

"They'd have to be crazy to try to march an army through the woods. They'd loose formation and get scattered all over the place," Connor said.

"Is that any more insane than marching down that road knowing what happened to the last group of people who tried that?" Sid asked.

"You're right," Peterson said.

Masterson said, "They are going to pull back and consider their options. This afternoon, they'll move a third of their men to the east and a third to the west. They'll come at us from three directions at once tomorrow morning."

"You're sure of that?" Connor asked looking over at Masterson.

"It's the only strategy that makes sense for them," Masterson replied with a smug smile.

"So why all the arrangements if you didn't plan on fighting this morning?" Peterson asked with a gesture at all of the ballista.

"We're involved in a very serious fight and this entire show has been the opening shot," Sid said in a very serious voice. He watched the flaming jars of oil fly into the woods. Smoke rose in the air from the woods. He added, "You can't do the same thing too many times in a row. The enemy will figure it out and counter your strategy. Our job today was to dictate the action the enemy would take."

Seeing a man stumble out of the woods onto the northern road, Sid pointed at him. Looking over at one of the scouts, he said, "Chase him, but don't catch him. Make it look good."

"Yes, General," the scout said. He nudged his horse and galloped up the road looking like he was very serious about catching the enemy scout.

Connor chuckled and said, "You're making sure that he gets the word about our defenses back to the camp."

"That's right," Sid said. He looked around the citadel and said, "An hour before dark, we move everything around on them."

"What are you going to do about their cavalry?" Connor asked.

"Gophers," Sid answered cryptically.

"What is a gopher?"

"It's a small animal that makes holes in the ground about the right size for a horse's leg to fit in," Sid answered.

"We don't have any gophers."

Sid laughed and pointed to the troops standing behind him. He said, "We have five thousand men who can dig a simple hole or two each."

"I'd really hate to have to face you on a battlefield," Connor said with a grin.

"Same here," Sid said with a smile.

Morning dawned with Sid standing on the wall of the citadel watching the three approaches to the citadel. It was midmorning when he finally spotted movement down the roads. As predicted, the enemy had divided their forces into three groups of five thousand men each. At the head of each division were two hundred cavalry. It was obvious what the enemy General planned to do. The cavalry would charge and take out the trebuchets. They would be followed by the infantry who would overwhelm Sid's forces.

Sid looked at the battlefield his men had worked so hard to prepare. The freshly mowed field looked so inviting. If it wasn't for the army approaching, it would have been a nice place to have a picnic. Unfortunately for the approaching army, the freshly mowed grass hid the preparations for the upcoming battle.

The battle lasted less than ten minutes. A charge of men and horses that should have had Sid's army trembling had ended with broken legs and necks. The commanding General of the troops knew that he had lost when half of Sid's army appeared out of the woods behind the remnants of his forces and rocks started falling on the troops to the front. He surrendered before his men were massacred.

There were remarkably few casualties among the humans although almost five hundred horses had to be put down. The surrender netted Sid almost fifteen thousand prisoners of with a quarter of them were suffering from broken legs. It took almost three hours to sort everyone out.

The General who had been in command of the enemy army was not in a good mood when Sid arrived to question him. Sid didn't even have a chance to say a word when the General said, "You knew exactly what we were going to do."

"Yes, I did," Sid answered.

Shaking his head, the General looked around at the preparations Sid had put into place. He sighed and said, "It's a good thing I surrendered when I did."

"I would tend to agree with you on that," Sid said.

"What's going to happen to us?"

"I'll question you and the Colonels. Your men will be transported back to serve as temporary indentured servants," Sid answered.

"After the questioning?"

"We have a fort where we'll hold you prisoners until the war is over," Sid said.

"That's a lot better treatment than we would have given you and your men if we had won," the General said. He was under orders to take the men as slaves and execute the officers.

"I know."



-------

Chapter 20


The second citadel fell without much of a fight. Sid's army had surrounded it and knocked the walls into rubble with the large trebuchets. His army grew by another four thousand freed slaves. He was in control of more than half of the slave territory that he was supposed to conquer.

Farms south of the citadel were deserted as the owners fled out of fear. A number of slave owners had left their slaves behind with a handful of overseers. On hearing that Sid's army was approaching, many of the overseers fled leaving behind the slaves. Freed slaves had joined Sid's army in droves. Most of them were willing to fight with as little as a club if it would help to defeat slavery. Sid had given them spears and shields along with sufficient training to be able to hold off a charge. For each hundred men, he used a pair of veterans to train and command them.

As his army marched across the southern territories, they encountered small groups of enemy soldiers. Sid's questioning of captured officers suggested that there were less than ten thousand troops defending the southern half of the country. Freed slaves had confirmed those estimates. Not trusting the information, Sid took his time advancing south.

Sid's army was almost fifteen thousand in size and that didn't include the number of men that he had sent to reinforce Masterson or were stationed across the territory that he had taken. It was true that most of the army hadn't been in battle yet, but the number of troops was impressive. When marching, his army created a column that was almost five miles long. Sid had to employ signalmen to communicate messages up and down the column. The logistics of keeping the army fed and supplied were a nightmare. Fortunately for Sid, Peterson and Olaf were up to the challenge.

Before they had even reached the third citadel, Sid knew he was going to face a real challenge and sent a message to have Masterson return. The slavers had chosen that citadel to make their stand and hold Sid from expanding further south. Rather than wait inside the citadel, the enemy army lined up in formations of five hundred men each outside the walls. Even if he defeated the army on the field, he would still have to take down the walls to get at the citizen defenders.

The enemy army was waiting for him to arrive fully confident they had established a battlefield that favored their forces. Their plan was not to wait for Sid to get his troops arranged for an attack. They would prevent Sid from ever getting his forces aligned against them.

Sid's scouts had informed him of the situation at the citadel. Rather than marching directly to the citadel, Sid chose to camp seven miles from the citadel. It was close enough to pose a threat, but too far for the enemy to venture towards him. It took most of the day for his army to reach the camp site.

Once the camp was set up, Sid called together the fifteen commanders who were directing the fifteen brigades of a thousand men each. Also in attendance were the twenty scouts who had been working the area around the citadel for the previous ten days. Once everyone was present, Sid said, "We have a problem. They have eight thousand men waiting to meet us on the battlefield. We outnumber them at almost two to one, but we can't get more than a thousand men into the battlefield at a time. That gives them an eight to one advantage over us."

"Why can't we get more than a thousand men into the battlefield?" one of the commanders asked.

"The road is only wide enough for us to march five men across. A thousand men create a column that requires almost ten minutes to get into position. In ten minutes, the enemy can destroy those men and wait for the next thousand to arrive," Sid answered.

"So we go through the woods," suggested another commander by the name of Eric.

"The terrain is rough. There's a ridge that runs along here," Sid said pointing to a map of the area, "and that will be a beast to navigate. There is also a small river that makes it almost impossible to move siege equipment into place."

"General, do you mind if I speak my mind," Eric asked fully confident that Sid would give him permission. It was his experience that Sid listened to all suggestions and didn't reject any idea just because he wasn't the one who had come up with it.

"Go ahead."

"You're treating our men a little too kind. I've got a thousand men who were slaves less than a month ago under my command. They are not necessarily good fighters but they are anxious to prove themselves to you and to take part in destroying the enemy," Eric said putting his hands on his hips. He looked at Sid and said, "Turn them loose on the woods. They'll build you a dozen roads to that citadel. You ask and they'll cut down every tree if necessary."

"You don't say," Sid said thinking about what the man had said.

"I guarantee you that you'll be able to put twelve thousand men on that battlefield in ten minutes. The enemy won't be able to deal with that."

Another of the commanders said, "My men will be right there with them. They can't wait to engage the enemy."

"My men will act as guards in case the enemy comes out to prevent them from working. I've got the best archers in the army," another commander said with pride.

One of the two women in command of brigades said, "My ladies will be there too."

"Mine too."

"That would put five thousand troops in those woods. Why build a road?" one of the other commanders asked. He shrugged and said, "You tell my men where you want them and when you want them there and I'll guarantee you that we'll be there."

Sid knew that it was insane to march an army through the woods and expect them to be able to organize and fight. He sat down on one of the stumps and considered what his commanders were telling him. Looking over at the scouts, he asked, "Do you think you can map out fifteen routes through the woods?"

"I'm not sure that we can find fifteen, but we'll find as many as are possible," one of the scouts answered receiving nods from his fellows.

"Do it. You've got four days to map out those woods," Sid said.

"Yes, sir," the scout said. As a group, they left the meeting.

Sid shook his head and said, "I'm insane to even consider it."

The same group of individuals met four days later. Sid looked over at the scouts and asked, "What did you find?"

"We each were able to mark out a different route. Each route would take about a day for a brigade to navigate. Badger even found a woodcutters road through the woods that could be used to bring some of the siege equipment to within two hundred paces of the edge of the woods."

Badger, one of the ugliest men in the entire army, looked up and said, "There was a meadow there. It looked to me like the woodcutters used it as their break area. With slaves, you'd have an overseer watching over five to ten woodcutters. With a couple of crews, they'd need an area to feed and water them."

"Tell me about it," Sid said.

"You could actually put up some of the large siege engines in it. I figure they would be in range to launch some of those rocks at the enemy."

Laying out a map on one of the tables that Barson had brought along, Sid said, "Show me where our troops would be emerging from the woods."

Each scout came over and put a mark on the map. He examined the map and said, "There are over twenty locations marked here."

"Yes, sir. Some of the routes run over the same area, but that's okay. They diverge a little ways into the woods. There are a few of them where you should be able to carry one of the ballistae right up to the edge of the woods," one of the other scouts remarked.

"What are our chances of moving in there without being spotted?" Sid asked.

In a hard voice, Badger answered, "I've been having a little fun in the woods. I doubt they have five scouts left. They won't have any by the time you're ready to get down to business."

Sid looked over at Badger and recalled how he had gotten his nickname. The man was aggressive and once he found an enemy he didn't stop until he had taken him out. Nodding his head, Sid leaned over the map and said, "Commanders, I need some suggestions on how to pull this crazy stunt off without losing my army."

The men gathered around and tried to work out a strategy. Shaking his head, Sid said, "I'd feel better if I was able to put some cavalry to both the north and the west."

A voice from behind Sid said, "That's funny. I happen to have a cavalry."

Sid turned around and exclaimed, "Gregor! You're here."

"That's right, Sid. I'm here and I've brought two thousand of my clan," Gregor said with a smile. The entire clan had been angered when they heard of Gregor's treatment by the slavers. Although Gregor had never discussed with Sid how he had been taken, he had told his clan. They had been outraged that a warrior would be drugged while having a drink in a tavern.

Sid grinned in pleasure at the good news. Trying to look stern, he said, "It took you long enough."

Pulling out a sword, Gregor said, "It took a little time to forge this weapon. It's hungering for slaver blood. So what is your plan?"

Gesturing the man over, Sid pointed out what he was thinking of doing. Gregor listened and nodded at all of the risky points. Once Sid was finished, he looked thoughtful for a minute before he asked, "Are you crazy?"

"Yes," Sid answered in a matter of fact voice.

Gregor burst out laughing and said, "I like it. It's audacious and will be totally unexpected. They won't know what hit them."

At noon three days later, Sid sat astride his horse at the front of his army. Behind him, two hundred men were waiting for the signal to move onto the battlefield. They were the bait for the trap and each man had volunteered for the job. He raised an arm and then dropped it. From behind, a drum started beating. The sound carried over the entire area.

The two hundred men, yelling like banshees, charged down the road passing by Sid. Not one man looked at him in despair or with hopelessness in his eyes. Sid could hardly believe that men would put themselves at risk in such a manner.

True to his prediction, two thousand of the enemy moved out to meet the forces as they charged into the battlefield. Two hundred yards separated the enemy from Sid's troops. He made another gesture with his arm and the drums stopped. That was the signal for the others to begin their charge. From that point on, the battle was outside of his control.

From atop his horse, Sid listened to the sounds of the battle. Four minutes into it, another set of drums sounded from within the woods. That was the signal for the cavalry to charge. It had occurred earlier than he had predicted. Unable to hold back, he rode up the road. Fred called out, "Sid, you're supposed to stay back here."

"I can't stay here," Sid said just before he rode onto the battlefield. He felt honor bound to stand with his men in battle. Having expected the answer, Fred followed Sid on his horse.

The sight that greeted Sid's eyes was exactly what he had planned. The enemy had charged in two separate waves with a four thousand reserve watching over the battlefield. The troops that had charged were staggered out between where his two hundred men had entered the battlefield and the walls of the citadel.

Sid's men had charged out from the tree line attacking the flanks of the enemy positions. When the enemy had adjusted their positions and brought up their reserves, the cavalry had come in from the new flank and overwhelmed them. The riders of the horse clan were ferocious and deadly warriors. The ranks of the enemy collapsed in front of them. Eight thousand former slaves had charged into the battle without concern for their lives. The total absence of concern for their safety was a major force multiplier.

The two hundred men who had served as bait were still in their defensive positions. The enemy had never reached them. One of the men looked over his shoulder and spotted Sid behind him. He nudged the soldier beside him. Within minutes, the two hundred had formed an honor guard around him.

Fred watched the fighting and shook his head. Awed by the brutal violence of the engagement, he said, "Look at them. Each of our men fights like a dozen of theirs."

"Yes," Sid said. It took twenty minutes, but Sid's forces claimed the battlefield. The plan had been an amazing success.

Watching the action on the battlefield, Fred asked, "How come you are successful in exactly the same situations as the enemy army that failed so miserably against you?"

"I'm patient," Sid answered looking over a Fred.

"What?"

"When the army attacked us at our citadel, they didn't wait until they had the information necessary to defeat us. I waited to act until I knew everything that was possible to know before engaging them. I used that knowledge to beat them. Even more importantly, I listen to the advice that others give me," Sid answered.

"Are you telling me that they could have defeated you at the first citadel?" Fred asked.

"Every time we've engaged the enemy they could have won," Sid answered. Pointing to the citadel, he said, "They could still win."

"How?"

"If I knew that, then they wouldn't be able to win," Sid answered with a frown. He added, "That's what keeps me awake at night."

Fred fell silent while he considered Sid's answer. Having started out life as a farmer, Fred had never given much thought about what leaders had to face. The idea that a man would lie awake at night worried about having to put others in harms way just never had a place in his world view. Traveling with Sid had opened his eyes to the kinds of responsibilities that leaders accepted.

Once the battlefield had been taken, the commanders went about the business of regaining control over the men. Sid's eyes tried to pick out gaps in the formations, but the constant movement of men and the absence of men who were dealing with prisoners made getting an estimate of his loses difficult.

Gregor rode over and stopped beside Sid. Watching the activity, he said, "I lost sixty men and have another three hundred wounded. An initial count suggests that you lost about twelve hundred men. Most of them were your most recent additions. I'm not even going to guess how many are wounded."

Shaking his head, Sid said, "Too many."

"That's far less than I expected," Gregor said shifting around in his saddle. His eyes scanned the battlefield.

"We've still got to take the citadel," Sid said. He looked to the east wondering when Masterson was going to arrive. He had sent for the man when it became obvious that they were going to have a difficult siege of this citadel.

"My relatives aren't good at siege work," Gregor said looking at the thick walls around the town. The Rider Clan preferred to ride into battle on horseback and they were magnificent in that kind of action. Crawling around on the ground in front of a walled city just wasn't their style of warfare.

"We'll set up the large trebuchets tomorrow and start dismantling the walls. I figure that the walls won't last two weeks," Sid said.

Gregor nodded his head and said, "As soon as the walls are breached, we'll charge in."

"No," Sid said knowing that was what the defenders would expect them to do.

"What?" Gregor asked in surprise.

"No. We'll just continue to dismantle the walls until the city is wide open. I figure that as their position becomes weaker and weaker, they'll start sending out sorties. We'll take care of them. I expect that they'll surrender before we ever have to enter the city," Sid said with a smile.

The discussion was cut short when hundreds of horns sounded from within the citadel. Sid, Gregor, and Fred turned to see what was happening. Deciding that the troops inside were going to take advantage of the chaos on the battlefield, Sid shouted, "Commanders prepare your troops!"

There was a flurry of excitement while men lined up in units of a thousand men each arranged in ranks ten deep and a hundred wide. From the disarray of taking care of the wounded, each man was suddenly in position with shield and spear. Even many of the wounded men had entered formation. It had taken Sid's army less than three minutes to achieve formations from which they could fight.

The Rider Clan rode out to the side ready to charge whoever might exit the Citadel. Seeing how quickly the army had organized itself, Fred looked over at Sid and said, "I'm impressed."

Gregor shook his head in amazement and said, "That's one hell of a disciplined army you have."

"Thanks," Sid said. He turned to watch the gate of the citadel. It slowly opened and a hundred men marched out. Sid leaned forward and asked, "Do you see any weapons?"

"No," Gregor answered.

"Commanders, hold ranks," Sid shouted while watching the hundred men line up along one side of the road out of the citadel. It looked almost like an honor guard. Leaning over to Gregor, Sid asked, "What do you make of this?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone is going to come out to parley," Gregor answered. He had just finished speaking when another hundred men left the citadel and lined the other side of the road. Once they reached their positions, they stopped and waited.

Five minutes passed before a group of four men on horse back sauntered out of the gate. The group rode down the road heading for Sid's position. At the lead was a large man with long gray hair dressed in battle gear. Behind him rode a younger man wearing a similar set of battle gear. The third man was dressed in a uniform easily recognized as that worn by a Captain of the Guard. The forth man was dressed in a guardsman uniform and carried a green flag with a golden dragon on it.

Watching the four men, Sid said, "Fred. Gregor. Let's mount up and see what they want."

The three men mounted up and rode towards the waiting four men. The four men rode forth to meet them halfway. Sid looked over at Gregor and said, "That's a good sign."

"Yes," Gregor replied.

When the two parties met, the older man looked at Sid and asked, "You are Sid Jones?"

"Yes, I am."

"I am Lord Drake."

"Nice to meet you," Sid said. This was the first time that any of the enemy had actually agreed to talk with him before a battle.

"While you were busy fighting out here, I was busy fighting in there," Lord Drake said gesturing back towards the citadel.

"Who were you fighting?" Sid asked glancing over at Gregor.

"The slavers. I didn't expect you to finish them off that quickly. I had planned to attack them from the rear while you engaged them from the front," Lord Drake. He had been planning to meet Sid under better circumstances. Namely, as equals fighting on the same side of a battle.

Sid studied the older man for a minute trying to decide what game he was playing. He asked, "Why would you do that?"

"Those bastards occupied my Citadel for ten years. I've been waiting for a chance to take it back and you provided that chance," Lord Drake answered.

"Now that you've got it back, what do you plan on doing?" Gregor asked with a frown. He didn't expect the man to be willing to give up his Citadel after fighting to get it back.

"I plan on giving Sid Jones command of my army," Lord Drake answered. Gesturing to the younger man beside him, he said, "This is my son, Dragos. He leads my army of three thousand men."

Raising an eyebrow, Sid said, "Three thousand men? I understood that your force was closer to a thousand."

"That was before I liberated the slaves," Lord Drake replied with a smile. When the slavers had filled the slave pens with the slaves from the farms surrounding his Citadel, he had sent some men into the slave pens to train them to fight. With his men guarding the slave pens, they had been able to practice without being noticed by the slavers.

Curious, Sid asked, "Why would you put your army under my command?"

Grinning, Lord Drake leaned forward and answered, "I used to ride with Gerald Jones. I want my son to have the opportunity to go on an adventure with a Jones."



-------

Chapter 21


Sid, accompanied by Fred, entered the citadel riding beside Lord Drake. A brigade of his troops followed behind them. Side could see that the slaves were working beside the other residents of the city to restore the damage caused during the fighting. Looking over at Lord Drake, he asked, "What about the slaves?"

"There aren't any slaves in Drake Citadel. They were free the moment they entered my walls. It's just that it took us some time to make that ideal a reality," Lord Drake said. Spitting on the ground, he said, "Can you imagine anyone thinking that you can own another human being? Not in my city."

"What about the slavers?"

"Those that fought are dead. I give the survivors to you. You can decide what you want to do with them," Lord Drake answered.

"If you don't mind me saying this, but this would appear to be a rather sudden turn around," Sid said. He wasn't sure what to make of Lord Drake.

"There was nothing sudden about this at all. I've been planning it for ten years; ever since the day the slaver army came in and took over control of my citadel. I've been stockpiling weapons to arm these men."

"Why didn't you act before today?" Fred asked.

"I only had a thousand men. There was no way for me to train the slaves to augment my force to a level that could effectively fight the slavers. They kept five thousand men here. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, this was an occupied city. They let me act like I was still in charge, but I wasn't.

"When I heard that you were headed this way, I suggested that the slavers fight you out on the grounds in front of the citadel. That got most of their men out of the citadel and put my forces in the majority for the first time. They went for the plan before I could finish telling it to them."

Sid interrupted, "What if I hadn't been able to mount a serious threat?"

Lord Drake laughed and said, "I've had my spies out watching your army since I first heard that there was a force taking on the slavers. I knew that you'd come up with something. I figured that you could to engage them for an hour while I took care of the slavers within my walls and then I would be able to attack the slavers engaged with you from the rear. I had no idea that your plan would be so effective, though. You can't imagine my surprise when I watched the battle from the walls of the citadel."

Nodding his head in agreement, Dragos said, "I was busy organizing my men when my father sent word that the fighting was over. To say that I was surprised would be an understatement."

"I was impressed with how quickly your army returned to formation after we blew our horns," Lord Drake said. He had expected them to take fifteen minutes to sort themselves out, but they had been ready to fight in three. It was an impressive display of discipline. Turning to his son, he said, "Learn from General Sid how he managed to train his troops."

"Yes, father," Dragos said with a nod of his head. He hadn't seen what his father had observed and wondered what was so special about the training.

The men talked about trivial matters until they arrived at a large house surrounded by a high fence in the middle of the citadel. The gate opened and the group rode to a square in front of the house. It was a two story stone building fashioned as a defensive structure. There were no windows on the lower level. The second floor had narrow windows that allowed arrows to be fired through them.

Lord Drake dismounted and said, "Come in. We'll go to the courtyard and discuss the rest of your campaign. Dragos, get the maps from the study."

Sid and Fred dismounted and followed the man into his house. Sid was impressed by the architecture of the building. The center of the house held an atrium that was open to the sky. It was filled with a beautiful garden lined by a covered porch. One could sit and enjoy the garden while remaining out of the sun. He said, "This is nice. You must really enjoy the garden."

"Thanks. I may be the master of the house, but my wife owns the garden," Lord Drake said with a laugh.

Glancing over at Lord Drake, Sid grinned and said, "You must be a powerful man indeed if you are master of your house."

Pointing to a long wooden table bracketed by two benches, Lord Drake laughed and said, "She lets me say that. She doesn't want to hurt my feelings."

Sid took a seat with Fred sitting down beside him and Lord Drake seated across the table from him. Even before they were settled, a man was there with pewter cups and a pitcher of watered wine. Two women came out carrying plates of cheese, rolls, and sliced fruits. It was quite a spread.

Sid thanked the man after he poured a cup of the watered wine. He was about to reach for his cup when Fred took a sip from it, set it down, and then took a sip from the cup in front of him. Lord Drake frowned when he saw what Fred had done. In a way, Fred's actions were an insult. Even worse, it made him reconsider his opinion of Sid. An honorable man would not have a hired food taster; he wouldn't need one.

Disturbed by Fred's actions, Sid asked, "Who made you my food taster?"

"I did," Fred answered without embarrassment or apology. He popped a piece of cheese in his mouth.

"I don't want you to do that for me," Sid said frowning.

Fred swallowed, shrugged his shoulders, and then replied, "You may not want it, but I'll do it anyway. I'm your sworn man and I shall do what I feel is necessary to serve you."

Dragos nearly dropped his maps at hearing that Fred was Sid's sworn man. He stared at Sid reconsidering his opinion of the man. Even his father had never impressed another man sufficiently to have him swear service to him. In an awed voice, he asked, "You swore service to him?"

"Yes," Fred answered reaching out and tasting a slice of fruit.

Sid wanted to slap Fred's hand, but he resisted. It would do no good. Fred would taste everything on the table before allowing Sid to eat. He accepted a small plate of food from Fred and took a bite from a slice of cheese. He said, "This is good cheese."

"Thank you. It is from my lands," Lord Drake said with obvious pride. He gestured to his son and grabbed a map out of his hand. He said, "It is my hope that the men who made the cheese will return to make it in the future. I have promised them all ten years without taxation if they will stay."

"You are offering the slave owners tax breaks?" Sid asked.

"The slave owners didn't make the cheese. The people they thought they owned did all of the work," Lord Drake answered surprised by Sid's comment.

"Sorry. I misunderstood what you meant," Sid said. He took a drink of watered wine.

Lord Drake nodded and spread out a map. While his hand moved over the map, he said, "We are here. The land to the south was mine and I plan to reclaim it with your help. The slavers have fortifications here, here, and here. There are about five hundred men at each, although they may reinforce them now that you have taken my citadel.

"The farms down to this point have all been abandoned. Most of the owners came here out of fear of your army. Some of them left their slaves and overseers behind. I figure that there are about three hundred places with overseers. It will be a lot of work to liberate all of those places."

Sid nodded his head finding that Lord Drakes report echoed what his scouts had been telling him. He said, "I figure that it will take about two weeks to clear that area of overseers. The smart ones leave before we get to them. The dumb ones can't mount a reasonable defense."

"Two weeks? That's a lot of territory to cover," Dragos said. He didn't think it could be done in that time.

"I'll send out twenty teams of fifty mounted men each to liberate the farms. They'll sweep across the land almost as fast as a rumor," Sid said tracing twenty routes across the map.

Lord Drake nodded his head while considering Sid's plan. He couldn't find fault with it. He asked, "What will you want us to do for you?"

"I will send men to the forts and capture them. I'll add your force to mine and we'll go after this one," Sid said pointing to a location on the map. He said, "I am looking for someone that is supposed to be in that area."

The comment caught Fred's attention. He looked over at the map and asked, "How many of your friends are left for you to rescue?"

"Just that one," Sid answered. He shook his head when he thought about Danny Sun's region and then added, "Well, there are three others to the East that may need my help as well."

Lord Drake listened to the exchange and wondered if rescuing a couple of his friends had motivated the man to take on the slavers. If so, then it would be very good to be one of his friends. He asked, "How many friends did you have taken by the slavers?"

Sid looked at Lord Drake for a moment before he answered, "There were a number of people taken. I came here to rescue three of them. Danny Sun came here to rescue three of them as well."

Lord Drake nodded his head. He knew that Danny Sun had been killed. The Colonel of the slaver army had been very happy to share that news. Leaning forward, he said, "I know that Malcolm Chambers and Colonel Lee are leading two other armies. I assume they are here to rescue the rest."

"Yes," Sid replied.

"What do you think of slavery?" Lord Drake asked thinking that the only reason that they were fighting was to rescue their friends.

"We detest it. That's why we raised armies to liberate the entire area rather than just rescue our friends," Sid answered.

"I'm glad to hear that," Lord Drake said with a smile. He picked up one of the other maps and unfolded it. Pointing to a symbol for a citadel, he said, "This is held by Jameson. With a little help, he'll take out the slaver army in his area and help raise an army. There's a fellow to the south of that citadel by the name of Sebeson. He's one of the best military minds that I know of, but he's being held in a stockade. If you can get him free, then you'll have a great resource for freeing that whole area."

Sid looked at the map of the area that had been Danny Sun's territory. The Citadel was to the south of where his forces were located. It would be another month before he could have much of a presence in that area. Sid said, "It will be a while before I reach that area."

"I'll have a man go there with word that my Citadel has been taken. The slavers will know that soon enough, but my man will have a second message for Jameson letting him know the true circumstances. He might be able to mislead the General of the slaver army into some strategic mistakes that would serve your forces better."

Sid stared at the map for a few minutes considering the help that Lord Drake was offering. His eyes drifted over to the spot where Lord Drake had said that Sebeson was held captive. Rather than commit, he said, "I would like to return to this discussion when I have Masterson and Gregor here for advice. This is going to take a bit a planning to assure success."

"I've been planning this for a long time," Lord Drake said feeling as if Sid wasn't going to be as much help as he had hoped. The entire slaver army needed to be destroyed before his Citadel would be safe from that threat.

"I'm sure you have, but I haven't. I need to understand the full plan before I commit my army to a campaign of such a large scale," Sid replied looking over the map. His hand traced over the boundaries assigned to Danny Sun and said, "That's a lot of territory and I haven't finished the job in the territories I've been assigned."

"I understand," Lord Drake said considering the area and the fact that Sid probably didn't have the resources that would make it possible to take and hold that much land.

"I don't," said Dragos. He was ready to ride out that afternoon.

"There's a lot more to war than fighting. Fighting battles is the easy part," Lord Drake said.

"That's right," Sid said. Seeing the disbelief on Dragos' face, he added, "The hard part is getting your army to the battlefield in condition to fight."

It was two days later before Sid and Fred met with Lord Drake again. This time, Masterson, Peterson, Connor, and Gregor were present. Sid started the discussion by pointing to the map that Drake had laid out and saying, "Lord Drake says that Sebeson is held captive here."

Surprised to hear the name, Masterson looked over at Sid and asked, "Sebeson?"

"Yes. Have you heard of him?" Sid asked. He noticed the smirk on Connor's face at the question and wondered if there was a story there.

"Yes, I've heard of him," Masterson said with a frown. He looked back down at the map and, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, said, "You say he's held captive there."

"What do you know of him?" Sid asked thinking that Masterson's interest in Sebeson went far beyond knowing the man by reputation.

"He's good enough," Masterson said wondering how Sebeson had been captured. He knew that Sebeson would never lead a slaver army and would probably try to join forces with anyone fighting the slavers.

Connor barked out a laugh that was shared by Peterson. Confused, Sid looked at the pair and asked, "What's so funny?"

"Sebeson is Masterson's cousin," Connor answered. Looking over at Masterson, he said, "They've never really gotten along."

"It's not that. He just thinks he's better than I am," Masterson said.

Nodding his head, Sid asked, "Is there any chance he's right?"

"None," Masterson declared.

Knowing the answer, Connor asked, "What is Sebeson's stance on that subject?"

"He thinks he's the best strategist that there is," Masterson answered and then added, "He doesn't have my subtlety."

"I guess he'll be surprised to learn that he's second or third," Peterson said with a grin.

"He's definitely second," Masterson declared looking over at Peterson.

"I take it that you'll agree that Sid is better," Connor said.

"Sure," Masterson said with a magnanimous gesture to Sid. It took him a second to realize what he had said. He turned and glared at Connor.

"So that would make you third," Sid said with a grin in an effort to deflect Masterson's anger.

Masterson was about to answer, but reconsidered his words. Trying to act sad for Sebeson, he e said, "Poor Sebeson is going to be so sad to learn that he's third."

Lord Drake had watched the exchange with some amusement. Drako had listened and wondered why they were bothering with such foolishness when they could be planning the continuance of the war. Lord Drake said, "There's a lot of talent running around Chaos at the moment. Malcolm Chambers is a pretty good general and I hear that he's been just as successful in his campaign as you have been."

Looking over at Lord Drake, Sid said, "That's good news. I haven't been able to get too much information about how he's doing in his campaign. I've gotten a little information about how well Colonel Lee is doing."

"Ah, Colonel Lee has not been challenged to the same degree as you and Malcolm Chambers. Carl has been pulling his troops from Colonel Lee's area to reinforce his positions here and against Malcolm Chambers," Lord Drake said.

"What's holding Colonel Lee back?" Sid asked.

"He's having trouble establishing reliable supply lines," Lord Drake answered. It was explanation enough.

Nodding his head, Sid said, "We've been very lucky in that regard."

"I can tell, but I think luck has very little to do with it. You've been able to advance almost without stop," Lord Drake commented. He had been impressed at the rate that Sid had moved his forces forward.

"So brief us about your plan for the next phase of the campaign," Sid said looking over at Masterson, Peterson, and Connor to make sure that they were ready to pay attention.

Lord Drake leaned over the map and began outlining his plan. His fingers traced out the routes that various divisions of the army would take. Masterson listened to the plan with his full attention. When he had finished describing his plan, Lord Drake stepped back and studied Masterson and Sid. The two men looked thoughtful. He gave them five minutes to think about what he had described. Finally, he asked, "What do you think of the plan?"

Masterson leaned over the map and touched the area where Sebeson was being held. He said, "I agree with it except for one little detail."

"What's that?"

"We rescue Sebeson before we execute the plan," Masterson answered.

Looking at Masterson, Sid was surprised that he would put the rescue of Sebeson above the campaign. He asked, "Why?"

"Lord Drake said a few things that are very important to the campaign. Colonel Lee is not advancing very fast. He needs someone to take over Logistics. He also needs me. Sebeson can work with your troops and Jameson's army to restore operations to the east. You need to finish your campaign here," Masterson answered.

Sid glanced over at Peterson and asked, "What about logistics for Colonel Lee?"

"I think I can find someone to help in that area," Peterson answered without having to give the matter much thought.

"Who? Barson?" Sid asked ready to tell Peterson that there was no way he'd give up Barson, Olaf, or Albert to support Colonel Lee.

With a look of horror on his face, Peterson said, "No way. I'd go before I'd let you send Barson."

"So who else do we have that we can send?" Sid asked.

"Barson has set up about a dozen men in positions where they are getting the kind of experience to take over his job. I'll send one of them west to Colonel Lee and one of the east to support Jameson," Peterson answered.

Lord Drake asked, "So how are you expecting to rescue Sebeson when he's deep in enemy territory?"

Stepping over to the map, Gregor traced out a route to the fort where Sebeson was being held. He answered, "My relatives and I will make a little raid. I figure eight hundred of us shouldn't have too many problems getting there and back again."

"What should we do about the other twelve hundred of your relatives?" Sid asked.

"Keep them busy," Gregor answered with a smile. He gestured to Masterson and said, "Let them ride with Masterson's women."

"My women are very good," Masterson said with pride evident in his voice.

Gregor grinned and said, "I know. My clan would love to have them join us as wives."

"You keep them away from my women," Masterson said not wanting to lose a single woman from his two brigades.

"I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to do that," Gregor answered. Seeing the expression on Masterson's face, he added, "My nomad relatives fell in love watching them fight. It would take Sid's entire army to keep them away."

"I don't want your men interfering with their training," Masterson said with more than a little anger in his voice. He knew that Gregor's men would disrupt the training of his troops.

"Don't worry about that. It is tradition in our clan for a wife to fight beside her husband. They're out there training with them even as we speak," Gregor said. He wasn't going to mention that he had already taken up with the leader of a brigade of women.

"Your wives ride into battle with the men?" Lord Drake asked.

"I guess no one noticed that a quarter of the people I brought with me were women," Gregor answered.

"If your men are busy trying to find wives, won't they be upset that you are taking them off for the rescue of Sebeson?"

"No. I'm only taking the married couples with me," Gregor answered. He ran his finger over the route and said, "It'll take us about three weeks to get there and another week to get to Jameson's Citadel. I figure that by the time I make it back, most of my relatives will be married."

Masterson turned to Sid with a sick expression on his face. In a miserable tone of voice, he said, "He's stealing my best brigades."

Sid looked at Masterson for a second and then said, "Don't think about it that way. He may have just doubled the number of people in your best brigades."

"I didn't think of it like that," Masterson said. He leaned over the map and traced a couple of paths across it deep in thought.



-------

Chapter 22


Considering the size of Sid's army and the technology of Chaos, it was amazing that it hadn't turned into a horde that swept across the countryside in a disorganized manner. For every soldier that saw battle, there were four support people who made it possible for the soldier to fight. Drovers, cooks, butchers, armorers, smiths, carters, and carpenters made up a force far larger than soldiers. Like soldiers, each needed food, water, camp goods, and rest.

A substantial number of wagons were in use. Supplies had to be brought from rear positions to where the men and women of the army were located. The typical supply wagon, with good weather, could manage twenty miles per day. There was a continuous stream of wagon trains moving goods from rear positions to forward positions. Since one could not count on good weather, it was necessary to have seven days worth of supplies within easy access. The entire area occupied by the army was dotted with depots where supplies were cached.

Each wagon required two horses to pull it with a spare pair of horses for every three wagons. Each mounted soldier had a string of three horses that would allow them to ride full time and be ready for battle at a moment's notice. While each soldier and carter had to care for his own horses, veterinarians and horse handlers were required to assure the continued health of the animals. Each horse needed to have its diet supplemented by grain, thereby adding to the logistics problem.

With an army spread over a front that was nearly two hundred miles across, communications was a major problem. It could take a critical message almost two days to go from one end of the front to the other and that required running horses to the point of exhaustion. More mundane communications required seven days to make the trip. The time required to exchange messages forced each division to operate, more or less, independently.

With the number of troops, it was unavoidable that there would be problematic individuals. Rape, murder, theft, and battlefield excesses occasionally occurred. It was often necessary for individual commanders to stand in judgment of someone accused of criminal activity. Trials were short, often less than five minutes in duration, and punishments were severe. With so many of the people former slaves, the one punishment that could bring a camp to the point of riot was whipping. As a result, executions were the common form of punishment for major crimes and hard labor the punishment for minor crimes.

A highly visible trial often set back morale, but that was nothing to three days of bad weather. This was particularly true in forward positions. A long rain turned the ground to mud and left men wet and dirty. Poorly placed tents filled with water leaving men unable to sleep. It seemed impossible to keep hot food hot long enough for a man to enjoy his meal. Even worse, improperly placed latrines often filled with runoff water and human waste ended up floating through camp. Diseases would start to become problematic.

Considering the size of Sid's army, it was amazing that it was holding together. While it might be small compared to the forces fielded by ancient Rome, Persia, and Egypt, it had to be remembered that it had taken hundreds of years for those armies to reach their largest sizes. Sid had taken a small cadre of untrained men and built it up to its current size in less than fourteen months. That was the most amazing accomplishment of Sid's command.

Three days of driving rain followed by an additional two days of constant drizzle was pushing his army to the breaking point. Sid stood at the door of his tent and looked out at the miserable weather. Disgusted, he turned to Fred and said, "This weather is killing us."

"We'll survive the weather," Fred said looking up from his sewing. He was using the time to repair some of his clothes. At the moment, he was sewing up a small tear in his pants.

"The men need a chance to get out of the weather," Sid said looking in the direction of the guards who were standing out in the rain. They were shivering and looked absolutely miserable.

"Or you need to get them into the weather," Fred said returning to patching his pants.

"Pardon?" Sid asked surprised by the suggestion.

"Sure. Get the men out to build a couple of buildings. Use some of the canvas to provide roofs. Make sure that you have rough flooring to get them above the water. That would allow them to get out of the rain," Fred said. He gestured towards the door of the tent and said, "A project like that would get them up and moving rather than concentrating on their miserable situation. The end result would improve their living conditions."

"That's a good idea," Sid said staring out the door.

"What are you doing standing there?" Fred asked with a grin.

"I'm not looking forward to getting wet," Sid answered invoking a laugh from Fred. He knew that he was going to have to get out in the weather. Sighing, he reached over and put on his oiled leather poncho.

Stepping out of the tent, Sid headed over to the supply wagons. Once there, it took him a few minutes to locate an axe. Grabbing one, he turned towards the rows of tents in which wet miserable men were huddled. Striding down the lane between tents, he shouted, "I'm looking for some volunteers."

Men looked out of their tents at their General. All of them groaned; a few stepped out to find out what Sid needed. It was a testament to his leadership that the men gathered around him. When he had several dozen men, he shouted, "We're going to build some temporary structures so that we can get dry. We need a bunch of trees cut down and split lengthwise to form floors. Some of the smaller trees can be used for corners. We'll cover the tops and two sides with canvas. We'll set up some clay fire pots to get some warmth in the area."

The men looked around trying to decide if they really wanted to be out in the rain for the amount of time it would require to accomplish the tasks identified by Sid. Sid didn't wait for them to make up their minds. A minute later, the sound of a solitary ax biting into a tree carried through the camp. As one, the men turned to watch Sid cutting down a tree.

One of the men complained, "It is damned near impossible to complain about that man. You want to grumble, but you can't."

"You know he's going to do the entire job by himself if we don't help."

"You've got that right. He won't ever say a bad word about those who don't join in," another man said watching Sid swing the ax. He sighed at the thought of spending hours out in the rain and said, "Okay. Some of you get axes and join our fearless leader in felling trees. We'll need some ropes to pull the trees out to where we can work on them. Someone is going to have to find the wedges to split the trees."

"Where do you think he plans on putting the buildings?" one of the men asked looking around the campsite. Sid hadn't been too forthcoming with instructions.

"I guess someone ought to go ask Connor. He's in charge of laying out camp," one of the men answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

In ten minutes the entire camp was a beehive of activity as men left the relative comfort of their wet tents to work in the rain. The cooks roused themselves to prepare hot soup over smoky fires of damp wood. Sid was everywhere giving a helping hand where necessary.

It took six hours, but a row of fifteen buildings appeared out of the rain. The floors were made of rough cut wood that would give a person who wasn't careful horrible splinters. The roofs sagged with water and required men to occasionally lift the canvas so that the water could run off. The air was smoky from damp wood struggling to burn despite the assistance from ground seep oil taken from the supply wagons.

As horrible as the buildings were, they served their purpose. The men dried out and got warm. Morale rose and the people gathered in the buildings turned to more social activities such as dice, cards, and story telling.

Sid stood next to one of the clay fire pits holding his hands over the fire trying to get warm. He was the last of the men working to construct the buildings to enter the shelter. The men had moved aside respectfully to make room for him. He smiled at the men around him and said, "Well, that was a perfectly miserable afternoon."

"I don't think I've ever been this wet," another man agreed. He had taken his shirt off and hung it over the fire to dry. His hair was plastered to his head and his pants were leaving puddles of water where he stood. His boots squished when he walked.

Another man came over and said, "They've set up hot showers in one of the buildings."

Sid turned and looked at the man in surprise. He definitely hadn't suggested that. Despite being soaked to the bone, the idea of a hot shower was amazingly seductive. He asked, "Whose idea was that?"

"Your man, Fred, suggested it," the man answered. He gestured towards one end of the camp and said, "There are men standing in line out in the rain to take a shower."

"I don't blame them," Sid said. He shivered when the draft in the room shifted and drove some of the heat reaching him in another direction.

The men around Sid exchanged glances. As one, they moved in and picked him up. The next thing Sid knew was that he was being carried to the building with the showers. The men waiting in line laughed when his escorts carried him past and into the building. To a man they knew that Sid wouldn't cut in front of the line despite the fact that it was his right as General.

Sid was set down just inside the building. Like all of the rest of the buildings, it only had two walls. The walls were intended to keep out the rain rather than provide privacy. It was far warmer than the other buildings since it was lined with clay fire pots.

He looked around at what the men had done. Buckets of water were being heated over fires. There were lines on which clothes were hung over the fires to dry. The rough wood floors were covered with canvas so that one could walk on the floor barefoot without ripping the soles of their feet to shreds. There were four shower stalls rigged so that one could pour a bucket of hot water and have it drain in a soft fall. Sid was impressed with the effort the men had put into it.

A woman behind him said, "Well, get out of those wet clothes General. You're holding up the line."

Surprised, Sid turned and looked at the woman. She was wearing a short sword and he knew that she could use it. She laughed and said, "You haven't got anything that I haven't seen already. Get undressed and I'll hang your clothes. You get two buckets of water. Use one to soap up and the other rinse off."

Rather than argue, Sid shed his wet clothes and went over to one of the shower stalls. Another woman filled the shower head with a bucket of hot water. Sid washed with a bar of soap luxuriating in the hot water. A bucket of hot water didn't last long, but it felt great. He was almost disappointed to have to rinse off. He stepped out and a woman entered to take a shower.

The woman who had directed him into the shower said, "Stand over there and let the fire dry you off. Your clothes won't be dry by the time you are, but they'll be warm."

"Thanks," Sid said and went to stand with a couple of other men. The area was warm with several small fire pots heating the air. The smoke was thick enough to make the eyes water and the lungs burn, but it felt good. A few paces away, a group of naked women were drying off in a similar manner.

"They didn't want to wait for us to get done with our showers," one of the men commented upon seeing Sid look over at the women. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I can't really blame them. It's been a miserable couple of days."

"You're right about that," Sid said. He wondered about the wisdom of having the men and women mix like this. Of course, he did notice that all of the women working in the shower wore weapons in a manner that was highly visible.

"Millie and a couple of the other women are armed to make sure that nothing bad happens," the man said as if reading Sid's thoughts.

Nodding his head, Sid said, "Good idea."

"Putting up these buildings was a good idea," the man commented. He ran his hands through his hair and said, "I'm dry enough. I'm going over to get some soup at the building next door. Then I'll head back to my tent and try to get some rest."

"Take it easy," Sid said watching the man go over to where his clothes were hung. It was hard to believe the difference that the buildings had brought over the men. Another two men came over and joined him in drying off. They were both smiling.

One of the men held a small flat piece of wood in his hand. He dragged it along his body using it like a squeegee. It took him just a few minutes to dry himself off. Sid watched open mouthed. The man said, "It's a poor man's towel."

"I've never seen that before," Sid said.

"Just a little something that I picked up as a kid," the man replied. He handed the stick over to the other man to use.

Sid watched as one of the men pushed up on the canvas roof. Water ran off the side into one of the large noodle pots. The women were using that water to refill the buckets. The cleverness of the people around him in dealing with problems astounded him. He wondered how his fellow students back on Earth would have managed in this kind of situation. He suspected that most would have been totally helpless.

After drying off and dressing, Sid headed over to the building where they were serving the food. The chance to eat out of the rain was too good to pass up. Stepping out, he noticed that Dracos was waiting in line for the showers. As he passed by, he said, "Hello, Dracos. When you are done here, why don't you join me in the building where they're serving soup?"

"Sure, General Sid," Dracos answered. He watched Sid head over to one of the other buildings. His respect for Sid had climbed almost every day on this campaign. He'd thought him crazy earlier that day when he went out and started chopping down that tree, but it took him ten minutes to realize that every man in camp was willing to follow Sid anywhere. He realized that Sid wouldn't ask any man to do more than he was willing to himself. It forced him to recognize that there was more to being a leader than issuing orders.

Sid entered the building just a little wetter than he had left the building where the showers were located. He stood in line to get a bowl of the noodle soup. The soup was quick, easy to make, nutritious, and, most importantly, hot. He was looking forward to getting a bowl. When it was his turn, the woman at the huge pot filled up a bowl and, while handing it over to him, said, "This is real nice. I'm so happy to get out of that tent."

"It was Fred's idea," Sid said giving credit where credit was due. Everyone around him shook their heads and knew that the idea wouldn't have turned out so positive if Sid hadn't taken the initiative to make it a reality. He could have ordered them to do it, but the work would have been performed by sullen irate men and the results wouldn't have been so good.

"Enjoy your soup," the woman said with a smile.

"Thanks, I will," Sid said. He carried the bowl of soup across the room and sat down on the floor to eat it in peace. The soup was thick with noodles in a hearty beef broth. He was pleased to see that there were actually chunks of beef mixed in with the noodles. He held up the bowl and took a sip from it. The soup warmed his insides.

"Sure is good soup," said the man seated on the floor next to him. His bowl was almost empty.

"Yes, it is," Sid agreed. He could hear singing coming from one of the other buildings. Somehow, this entire thing had turned into a party.

"I was getting tired of being wet and sitting in my tent," the man said. Five days of sitting in a small tent and leaving only to pull guard duty had begun to get on his nerves. He might not have wanted to work outdoors in the rain, but it was a break from the routine.

"Same here," Sid said. He took another sip of his soup.

"I'll be heading back to my tent when I'm done eating. I figure there are others that would enjoy a little break from the rain," the man said. He tilted his bowl and drank down almost all of the soup in his bowl.

"I'll be doing the same," Sid said. He watched the constant flow of traffic into and out of the buildings. Men and women were coming in to relax and recover from days spent in their tents. None were overstaying their time in the building. Even the people serving food rotated in and out of service.

Sid had just finished his bowl of soup when Dracos entered the building. He watched Dracos get in line and wait to be served. It pleased him that the young man waited his turn rather than cut into the line. During the first few days, Dracos had used his position to do as he wished without regard to how his actions appeared to him men.

It was a few minutes before Dracos sat down next to Sid with a full bowl of soup. He took a long sip of it and then said, "Oh, that's so good."

"Hot food always tastes better when the weather is bad and the appetite is large," Sid said. The soup had filled his stomach, but more importantly it had boosted his spirits.

Looking over at Sid, Dracos said, "When you and my father said that there was more to a campaign than fighting, I didn't really know what you meant. Seeing what you did today, I think I'm beginning to understand. When this rain stops, your army is going to be ready to move. The enemy's army will probably take a couple of days to get to the same degree of readiness."

"That's right," Sid said nodding his head. It would take a day or two for the enemy to dry out all of their clothes and replenish their supplies. The men would be irritable and difficult to control.

"We're two days behind them," Dracos said.

"That's about right," Sid replied.

"We could be at their camp before they can get their act together enough to fight," Dracos said looking over at Sid to see his reaction.

"I imagine that is possible," Sid said knowing what was going to come next.

"So are we going to march out as soon as the weather is good?"

Shaking his head, Sid answered, "No. I'm going to give our people the chance to get everything together. They'll have to dry out their tents and we'll have to get our supply lines operational again. I'd rather have my soldiers a hundred percent than to hope for a quick victory."

"Why?" Dracos asked wanting to understand Sid's thoughts on the matter.

"I like to avoid surprises," Sid answered. Seeing the puzzled expression on Dracos' face, he explained, "We could end up with a bunch of people getting sick. The worst time to discover that is when we are facing an enemy. We also wouldn't have much of a chance to scout the area. Nothing is worse than fighting from a disadvantage because you haven't taken the time to prepare the battlefield."

"I guess I understand that," Dracos said feeling a little impatient for his first taste of a major battle. They had been moving for more than two weeks and not engaged the enemy.

"The whole goal in war is to survive to the end. The trick to winning a war is to have as many of your people survive to the end as is possible," Sid said.

"What do you mean?" Dracos asked. Like many born of successful men, he didn't really understand the subtleties that were required to become successful.

"Where I come from, we have what we call a pyrrhic victory. That's where you win the war, but have so few people left that you lose more than you gain. You never see the result that motivated the war."

"Oh, I get it. If all these men and women die as a result of the war, it would probably have been better for them to remain slaves. There would be no one free to appreciate the sacrifice that they made," Dracos said.

"That's right," Sid said. A man, soaked to the bone, approached Sid and stopped in front of him. Sid didn't recognize the man, but could see that he was wet, cold, and miserable. Looking up at him from his seat on the floor, Sid asked, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm in charge of one of the supply trains. Our wagons are useless in this weather. We left them where they got stuck in the mud and loaded the horses with about half of the supplies. We packed in a couple of day's worth of food and need to know where to store it," the man answered.

Rising from the floor, Sid said, "Let me help you. We can store the food in some of the empty wagons that are stuck here in camp."

"Thanks."

"When we're done, I'll take you over to have a hot shower and make sure that you get some hot food," Sid said.

Dracos drank down his soup and rose from the floor. Gesturing to the floor, he said, "Why don't you stay here? I'll get a couple of my men to help unload the goods and then I'll get them settled in."

"Okay. While you're doing that, I'll find some of our mounted men to make a run to the wagons and pick up the rest of the food," Sid said.

"I'll go with your men. They'll need someone to take them there," the wet man said with a look of disappointment on his face. The idea of a hot shower and food had really sounded good, but he wasn't willing to send any of his men back out into that weather.

"You won't be leaving until morning, so take your time," Sid said. He headed out to find some men willing to go out in the weather to get more supplies.

Dracos watched Sid leave and said, "It's hard to believe that he's the General, but I guess that's what makes him in the real leader of this army."

The man looked at Dracos and then stared at Sid's retreating figure. He had arrived at the camp and asked for the man in charge. He didn't think that they would send him to the General. Seeing Sid disappear into the dark and rain, he said, "That's one hell of a man."



-------

Chapter 23


Mandy Cook was chained in the dark basement of a deserted house. The man who had bought her on the auction block had fled upon hearing Sid's army was in the area. The overseers had stayed a few hours after the owner fled. It wasn't that they felt any loyalty to the owner; it took them that long to take everything of value left in the house. The slaves had run off in the hopes of joining Sid's army.

Two days had gone by without food or water and she was starting to feel delirious. Naked, cold, and alone in the basement, she kept imagining she was hearing footsteps on the floor above. She heard voices and realized that the footsteps hadn't been in her imagination. She was afraid of yelling out to attract attention and terrified of dying there. It was a hard choice, should she risk another rape or a long slow death. She made her choice and yelled in what was more of a croak than a shout, "Help!"

The door opened and a man shouted, "Is there anyone down there?"

"Yes," Mandy Cook answered staring up at the white rectangle that outlined the form of a very strong looking man. The light hurt her eyes. She couldn't make out any of his features. She could feel her heart beating hard in terror of what the man might do to her.

She listened as the man said, "Someone get me a lamp. It is pitch black down there."

Another man entered the rectangle of light. He was carrying a lamp which he then handed to the first man. The first man went down the stairs into the basement. She moved to put her arms around her knees in an attempt to protect herself. The rattle of chains filled the small room. When he reached the bottom of the stairs she could see his face in the light of the oil lamp. A frown crossed his face when he caught a whiff of the stench inside the room. Shaking his head, he said, "I'll be over there in a minute."

The slow approach of light allowed her eyes to adjust to the light after days spent in the dark. The circle of light finally fell upon her. The man knelt down and examined her terrified face. In a soft voice, he said, "It's nice to find you, Mandy Cook of Cassandra."

Unable to believe her ears, she looked up the man and asked, "You are a Hero from Earth?"

"Yes. I'm Sid Jones," he answered taking in her naked body. Although the sight of a naked Damsel should have excited him, the abused condition of the woman denied him all chance of a physical reaction. The look of relief that spread over her face was reward enough.

Mandy burst into tears in relief at being rescued. With a gentle touch, he examined her to assess her injuries. The right side of her face was slightly swollen and one eye showed bruising; the result of a backhanded slap had been incredibly painful. Her wrists were raw from the manacles. Her pubic area was red and raw from her rape. She was filthy from almost a week spent in the basement. The past two days spent manacled to the wall and alone in the dark had not allowed her to avoid soiling herself. Looking up at him through tear filled eyes, she said, "Don't look at me. I look horrible."

"You look fine, Mandy. If I ever catch the man who did this, I'll make him pay for it," Sid said attempting to reassure her. He frowned upon coming across additional bruises on her body. Whoever had purchased her had been brutally rough in his treatment of her.

"My vagina burns," Mandy said sobbing and putting her hands between her legs. The rules of Chaos held that Damsels and Heroes could not have sex with the locals. There was a reason behind the rule. The fluids of sex between individuals of Chaos and individuals from Earth or Cassandra were highly irritating. Few men of Chaos could ignore the burning sensation enough to have sex with a Damsel more than once. The effect on the Damsel was even worse. She could not get rid of any fluids that found their way into her and the burning sensation could last for days. She cried out, "He took me twice."

"We'll clean you up," Sid said tenderly. He looked over his shoulder and shouted, "Fred, get me something that I can use to remove some manacles. I also need something for her to wear and a way to bathe her. We'll also need some food."

"Yes, Sid," Fred called back. Turning to the others in the room with him, Fred ordered them to clear out of the house after sending people on errands to take care of Sid's requests. One man went off to fetch a washtub. Another went to get the blacksmith. One of the women was sent off to find some clothes. A man went after some food.

Fred stood in the living room to assure that the Damsel would have her privacy. He didn't know what the situation was, but Sid's requests suggested that it wasn't good. Knowing that Sid would make sure that the Damsel was properly taken care of made him feel good to be part of a rescue like this. He smiled at the thought that his service was so personally rewarding.

In the poorly lit basement, Sid examined how the manacles were held to the wall. The copper chain was attached to the wall in a place well out of reach of Mandy. He went over and fiddled with the chain trying to get it unhooked thinking that it was hung over a simple hook. After a couple of attempts, he realized that the chain was being held in place by a ring that was cut and pushed closed. He would have to bend the ring to get the chain free.

"I've got to find something to open the ring holding your chain," Sid said.

"He used something over in that area when he put me down here," Mandy said pointing to one side of the basement.

Sid looked around the indicated part of the basement and found a nice piece of hardwood that could be used to twist the ring. He returned to the wall and used it to pry open the metal ring. Only then was he able to get the chain free. Looking at the setup, Sid knew that there was no way that Mandy could have freed herself. If they hadn't found her, she would have died of thirst.

While Sid had been working, Fred called down, "A tub has arrived and I'm preparing the water for a bath. We found a dress and a little food. The house is clear, so bring her up here when you can."

"Thanks," Sid called back while he bent down to lift Mandy from the floor.

She put out a hand to stop him and said, "Don't touch me. I'm..."

Sid put a finger over her mouth to silence her objection. In a tender voice, he said, "Hush, my Damsel in Distress. Didn't you know that being in distress means that the Damsel can't look her best?"

"No," Mandy answered suddenly feeling like a little girl.

Lifting her from the floor, Sid said, "Well, it does. So revel in being a Damsel and enjoy your rescue from distress."

"But..."

"I shall remove your chains, bathe you, and dress you. I have a few details to take care of here that will require a week or two. Then together, we shall travel north to where the other Damsels await your arrival," Sid said. He carried her to the stairs and started to climb.

"Other Damsels?" Mandy asked swallowing heavily. She knew the rules and wondered what the presence of other Damsels would mean to her.

While taking her up the stairs, Sid explained about the other Damsels. Mandy, like the other Damsels, was afraid that she wouldn't get to bestow her reward upon him. It took a little effort to reassure her, but by the time Sid finished his explanation she accepted the need for him to rescue as many Damsels as possible.

Once upstairs, Sid put Mandy down and looked around the room. He could see Fred, facing away from the house, standing outside to guard the door. No one would bother them. He called out, "Fred. What about the tools to remove the manacles?"

Without looking back, Fred answered, "They are on the table in the dining room. I put a couple of pots of water over the fire to boil in the kitchen. They should be ready in a few minutes. The tub is in the kitchen with a gown on the chair."

"Is there anything to eat or drink?"

"Yes, there's a pitcher of watered wine and some cheese on the table," Fred called back. He had expected that they would wait until after she was clean and dressed before eating and drinking.

Sid led Mandy to the dining room and looked at the food with a frown. He filled a quarter of the glass with watered wine and handed it to Mandy. He said, "Sip a little of this."

"Thanks," Mandy said grabbing the glass with trembling hands. She drained the glass in one long swallow before Sid had a chance to remind her to just sip it. A few seconds later she grimaced when the wine threatened to return on her. Watered wine was not the best fluid to give to a dehydrated person, but it was all they had. It wasn't a good idea to drink it all in one swallow and that had been the reason he had given her only a quarter of a glass.

After slicing off a small piece of cheese, Sid offered it to her. He said, "Here's some cheese. I wish we had soup or fresh fruit for you instead of cheese. Cheese isn't exactly the best food with which to end a fast."

Mandy chewed the small piece of cheese with her eyes closed. She was enjoying the act of eating as much as the flavor of what she was eating. A low moan of pleasure filled the air. The sound of her chains rattling reminded Sid that he had other business that required his attention.

After a minute of searching, Sid found the tools needed to remove the manacles. They were wrapped in a small piece of cloth. It took far more time and effort to remove the manacles than Sid had expected. After working on the copper pin with the chisel for three minutes, the left cuff was finally removed. Sid looked up at Mandy and shrugged apologetically. He said, "It's not as easy as it looks."

"It doesn't look that easy," Mandy said rubbing the wrist that had just been freed.

Starting to work on the other cuff, Sid said, "I'm sure that a blacksmith could remove it with one little love tap. I'm stuck trying to use brute force."

"I forgive you," Mandy said. Sid hit the pin holding the manacle together just right and it fell into two parts. The manacles fell to the floor at Mandy's feet. She sighed as she rubbed her newly freed wrist and said, "It feels so good to be free of them."

"I'm sure it does," Sid said thinking that she should have a chance to talk with Gregor when he returned from his mission to rescue Sebeson. Smiling at her, he said, "Let's get you washed."

While the idea of a bath was almost overwhelming, Mandy was too hungry and thirsty to give in to that temptation. She moved over to refill the glass with watered wine. Sid grabbed her hand and said, "Hold on a little bit. You need to let your stomach settle. You'll get sick if you eat or drink more right now."

Disappointed, Mandy followed Sid into the kitchen where there was a large fireplace with a couple of copper pots suspended over the fire. He removed the pots from over the fire and poured the hot water into a partially filled wooden tub. The tub was just large enough for Mandy to sit in. She got into the tub with a satisfied sigh. The warm water felt good on her abused skin and relaxed muscles that had been tense for too long.

Sid carried the empty pots to the door. Handing them to Fred, he said, "Send someone to refill these."

Fred nodded his head and shouted, "I need two people here."

Four people came running. Sid shook his head in wonder and returned to the house. It was well known that men didn't volunteer in the army. The fact that one call could get the four closest people running to help was phenomenal. He stopped by the table to refill the glass with watered wine. As before, he did not fill the glass, but left it half empty. He sliced off another small piece of cheese from the hunk on the plate. Taking the food and wine with him, he returned to Mandy.

Mandy had used the time to wash her private area in an attempt to relieve the burning. Her attempt was only partially successful. The little bit of relief that she felt was enough to satisfy her. At least the irritation would be bearable.

Sid went over to Mandy and knelt down. He held out the piece of cheese in front of her mouth and said, "Open up."

She opened her mouth and he dropped the cheese in it. She closed her mouth and chewed. Once again a low moan of pleasure was emitted by the woman despite the fact that her stomach wasn't accepting the food without expressing its displeasure at the fare. He held out the glass of watered wine for her to take. Taking it from him, she said, "Thank you."

Sid moved around so that he was behind her. Large bruises that were in the process of turning yellow covered her back. At least eight days had passed since the blows that had produced them had been struck. He wondered if they corresponded to her first rape. In a soft voice, he said, "Let me help you wash your back."

"Thank you," Mandy said. A shiver of pleasure went through her body when his hands brushed across her back. "That feels so good. You can do that all day."

"I'm glad you like it," Sid replied with a smile. He was already preparing himself for her to turn into a sexual predator like the other Damsels did when he had rescued them. Her subdued behavior told him far more about her condition than the bruises on her body. It had to be pretty bad to keep her from turning even more predatory.

"How about you rub my front? I think my breasts need lots of attention," Mandy said turning her head to look at him.

"I'm sure they do, but I'll have to decline," Sid said with obvious regret in his voice. Her blond hair, blue eyes, and curvaceous figure reminded him of a cheerleader that he had known in high school. Resisting Mandy required all of his willpower.

"Why?" she asked with a pout.

"I wouldn't be able to control myself," Sid answered with a grin. Less than thirty minutes after being freed she was flirting with him. Even battered, bruised, thirsty, hungry, and undoubtedly tired, the sex drive of a woman from Cassandra wouldn't be denied. Her flirting reassured Sid that she was recovering.

"I won't tell," she said with a giggle.

From the front of the house, Fred called, "The water is here."

"Saved by the bell," Sid said rising from his kneeling position by the bath tub.

It took almost half an hour for Mandy to finish bathing. By the time she stepped out of the tub, she was feeling like a million dollars. She had performed a primitive douche that had cleaned out the majority of the irritating body fluids. The residual pain would disappear when she healed.

After helping her out of the tub, Sid dried her with a cloth that he had found. She sighed and said, "I feel so much better."

"I'm glad. We've got a dress here for you," Sid said gesturing over to the chair where a gown was draped.

"It's not very pretty," Mandy said after glancing over at the dress. She took a sexy pose designed to show off her well shaped rear while looking over her shoulder at him. Her eyes drifted down to his crotch to see if her posing had any effect. She licked her lips upon seeing the bulge in his pants.

"All the better," Sid replied with a forced grin. His cock was swelling in pants that were too tight. It was on the verge of being painful.

"Why?"

"How else am I to resist your obvious charms?" Sid answered. He winked at her when she ran her hands over her breasts in an attempt to showcase what she obvious thought were the best of her charms. Groaning, Sid asked, "Will I have to turn around?"

"No," she answered pouting at the idea that he would want to resist her charms, Mandy went over to the chair. The dress was little more than a sack with arms cut into it. She looked at it with a frown and said, "This is really bad."

"The camp women will find you some other clothes to wear. You won't have to wear those for long," Sid said. He watched with relief as she put on the dress.

Mandy looked down at herself with a frown. Shaking her head in disgust, she said, "The women of Cassandra would make fun of me if they ever saw me in this outfit."

Gesturing to the table, Sid said, "Have some more cheese and watered wine. We have to leave soon."

Mandy sat down and proceeded to eat the rest of the cheese. In the process she drank enough of the wine to feel a little tipsy. Before drinking the last sip of wine in her glass, she asked, "Is it true what they say about men from Earth?"

"What do they say?"

"That they can fuck a woman into unconsciousness," she answered looking at him with desire.

"It has happened on occasion, particularly with women from Cassandra," Sid answered.

Mandy stared at Sid for a full minute before she drank down her wine. A shudder went through her body and then she said, "I hope you do that to me."

Seeing that she was finished with her meal, he said, "Come. We have to go."

Stepping outside the house, Mandy froze on seeing the army waiting in the field in front of the house. There were two hundred riders standing beside their horses waiting for the order to mount their steeds. She couldn't imagine so many people being involved in her rescue.

A man who was obviously a newly freed slave was standing at the door beside Fred. He asked, "Is she the one you were looking for?"

After fishing out a shell from his coin purse, Sid tossed the coin to the man and said, "Yes, she is."

The man looked at the shell and then tossed it back to Sid. When Sid caught the coin, the man said, "I'd rather join your army, General."

"You can have the coin and join my army," Sid said tossing the coin back to the man. The man nodded his head and the coin disappeared from sight.

"General?" Mandy asked looking at Sid.

"Yes?" Sid replied turning to look at Mandy. The look on her face was priceless.

"You're a General?"

"I know," Sid said with a grin.

Fred burst out into laughter at the exchange. He said, "Quit playing with her. I've got a horse here for her and another for this fellow here."

"Jackson, go with Fred and he'll get you mounted up. We'll be riding for two hours," Sid said gesturing to the man who he had given the coin.

Surprised that Sid had remembered the man's name when he had forgotten it, Fred said, "Yes, your horse is tied up over there."

"I don't know how to ride," Jackson said eyeing the huge horse with unease.

"Don't worry, we won't be riding hard. All you'll have to do is stay on it," Sid said with a smile. Looking at Mandy, he said, "Same for you. We'll take a break if you need it."

"Thank you. I'm not sure that I can stand riding for long," Mandy said. The idea of riding brought a twinge of discomfort from her irritated private parts.

It took them five minutes to get mounted. Mandy was sore and Sid had to lift her into the saddle. Jackson was totally hopeless and kept jumping off the horse whenever it moved. Riding the big animal was more than he could handle. He finally gave up and declared that he would run the distance.

The group moved out at a sedate pace that wasn't much faster than a walk. Jackson kept up well, walking for the most part and then breaking into a jog when he fell behind. Mandy asked, "Where are we going?"

"We are going to a fortification," Sid answered.

"Ah, it will be nice to rest in a safe place," she said.

"I doubt it will be all that restful," Sid said looking over at her.

"Why?"

"The enemy is inside the fortification," Sid answered with a grin.

Riding into a battle didn't seem like much of a rescue to Mandy. The whole idea of being rescued was to be taken away from danger. Puzzled, she said, "Shouldn't we be avoiding a fight?"

"Normally, yes, but this is a war. If we don't engage the enemy, then they will take more Damsels," Sid answered.

Fred rode up and said, "A rider is coming."

Sid raised his arm and the group came to a halt. The rider approached Sid and stopped about ten feet away. He raised a hand in greeting and said, "I've come from Gregor. He's freed Sebeson and is on his way here rather than Jameson Citadel. Word is that Jameson has convinced the slaver army to head in this direction."

"Is that good news?" Mandy asked. The idea of an army headed towards them wasn't very reassuring.

"Very good news," Sid answered with a smile. He turned to the rider and asked, "When can we expect them?"

"In about a week," the man answered.

"Gregor is following them?" Sid asked.

"Yes."

"I'd say that puts the enemy between two of our forces. I'm sure that Sebeson has a plan," Sid said.

"Yes, General. That's what Gregor said," the rider answered.

"Ride with us and rest. I'll discuss the matter with you tomorrow. We have a fortification to capture today," Sid said.

The man nodded his agreement and rode off to join the rest of the troops. He took a position at the back of the line. After riding past mounted men, he was surprised to come across a single man on foot. He looked down at Jackson and asked, "Where's your horse?"

"I hate the animals," Jackson said with a snarl.

"You've got nerve," the rider said shaking his head.

"Why?"

"You've just told a member of the Rider Clan that you hate horses," the rider said with a grin.

"I mean no disrespect to your Clan, but I don't see how that has any effect on how I feel about horses," Jackson said.

The rider burst out in an honest laughter. After recovering, he said, "Well said. I'm Siegfried."

"I'm Jackson."

"I think we're going to get along well," Siegfried said. He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a knife. Handing it over to Jackson, he said, "You need a weapon if we're headed towards battle."

"Thanks," Jackson said accepting the knife and slipping it in his belt. He broke out into an easy jog to catch up with the rest of the men. Siegfried, on his horse, trotted beside him.



-------

Chapter 24


Sid and Mandy rode up to the top of a hill overlooking the area below the fortification. Connor was seated on his horse waiting for Sid while watching the activity below. He knew that if the enemy had built another fortification on this hill, that the entire area would have been much more difficult to successfully attack.

Looking at the thousands of men surrounding the fort, Mandy nearly fell out of her saddle. In a shocked voice, she asked, "Are they all your men?"

"Yes," Sid answered.

"Wow," Mandy said. She'd heard of Heroes getting fifty men or so to join them on their adventures, but for a Hero to have thousands of men was unbelievable. The idea of the kind of child that such a Hero would produce nearly gave her an orgasm on the spot.

Connor glanced over at Mandy and said, "I take it that your little mission was successful."

"Yes, it was," Sid answered leaning over to settle his horse by rubbing it on the neck.

Sid stood up in his saddle and looked across the battlefield. It was prepared exactly as he had ordered it. A line of the small trebuchets was focused on the doors of the fort. The spearmen were lined up facing the doors of the fort. The cavalry was split into two ranks on opposite sides of the field prepared to attack the flank of any group that ventured out of the fort. Turning to look at Connor, he asked, "Has there been any movement from them today?"

"No," Connor answered. They had been positioned around the fort for two days. Every two hours, he had changed the deployment of his forces to make it more difficult for the enemy to identify a reasonable attack strategy. Before running off on his mission, Sid had mentioned something about floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee, but the reference made no sense to Connor. He added, "I don't know what bugs have to do with this, but I think all of the movement over here has kept them a little confused."

Chuckling, Sid asked, "Should I show myself?"

"Oh, I think they see you well enough," Connor said pointing to fort to bring Sid's attention to the sudden appearance of several men on the walls of the fortification.

"When the rest of the cavalry gets into place, we'll start the trebuchets," Sid said looking down at the field below.

"Who's the fellow down there with the Rider Clan?" Connor asked pointing to a group mounted on horseback. There was a lone man standing amongst them.

Sid looked in the direction Connor pointed out and said, "That's Jackson. He's the fellow who told me where I would find Mandy. I thought I told him to rest."

"It appears he didn't take your advice," Fred said with a grin.

"The Rider Clan doesn't think much of dirt crawlers," Connor said hoping that Jackson wasn't going to get in trouble with them. He watched as one of the riders gave him a spear. Jackson broke it in half over his knee and held up half of a spear in each hand. The man swung each half trying to get a feel for his new weapon.

"He and Siegfried seemed to get along alright on the journey here," Fred said wondering why Jackson had broken the spear in half.

Seeing that everyone was in place, Sid asked, "Where are the flags?"

A man stepped up and said, "I have them, General. Which would you like?"

"The green one," Sid answered. Even as the man was bending down to pick up the flag, the doors of the fortification opened. Four hundred cavalrymen rode out and turned to head directly towards the Rider Clan. Sid said, "It looks like they decided to bring the battle to us."

Sid pointed to the Rider Clan with his sword and then, with an exaggerated motion, swung it to signal that they should attack the advancing riders. He said, "I was afraid of that. The infantry is too far to provide them much support."

Connor asked, "Why didn't they charge the infantry?"

"The infantry is rather distant from the gate and it would take their mounted troops some time to reach them. Even a minor resistance would delay the escape. That small delay would allow the cavalry to attack them from both sides and the rear," Sid answered watching the battle unfold.

Realizing that Sid was correct, Connor said, "I wonder why they chose to charge the Rider Clan."

"I would say that Masterson's women on the other side of the battlefield have achieved a certain reputation," Sid answered watching as the two forces met. He noticed Jackson slipping around the horses hitting the huge animals with the halves of his broken spear. He wasn't too concerned where he struck them, giving equal opportunity to legs, flanks, and head while avoiding the swords of the riders. The riders quickly lost control of their mounts becoming easy prey for the Nomads on their smaller and faster horses.

Nodding his head, Fred said, "Look at Jackson. He's right there in the thick of it."

"Seems that he's managing alright," Sid said. He rose up in his saddle and pointed to one of Masterson's brigades with his sword. He gestured to the open doors of the fortification. The leader understood the gesture. Within a minute the women were charging towards the fortification.

Sid put up his sword before pointing to the infantry spearmen. He rolled his arms to indicate that they should start marching forward. Settling back in his saddle, he said, "I think that they hoped to strike out at our cavalry, get past, and then ride east."

"You mean they abandoned the fortification?" Fred asked. He didn't see any movement within the fort.

"Yes," Connor answered. The fighting among the mounted men was furious. The members of the Rider Clan were killing the outnumbered slavers with relative ease.

"They must have received word that we are more than willing to wait until the walls have fallen around them," Sid said watching the action on the field like a hawk. The battle was going well. The Rider Clan had stopped the escape of the outnumbered slavers. He sighed at the useless killing and asked, "Why don't they just give up?"

"I don't know," Connor said.

The enemy's charge had stalled and they pulled together into a tight cluster that was surrounded by the Rider Clan. There were less than a hundred of the slavers compared to eight hundred of the Rider Clan. The Rider Clan rode in a slow moving circle around the tight cluster of enemy men. Sid watched the action and asked, "What are they doing?"

"This is something that the Rider Clan does. I've heard it called fighting in the circle," Connor answered.

"What does fighting in the circle entail?" Sid asked. A couple of the younger riders were slowly making their way into the inner edge of the ring although some of the older warriors were blocking their movements with their horses.

"After a little while, one of them will ride into the center of the circle and do battle. He won't leave the circle until he's killed one of the enemy soldiers. They'll do that until everyone in the center is killed or surrenders," Connor answered watching the action on the field.

One of the riders made it through the ring and rode directly at the mass of riders at the center. He engaged them with his sword held out. Three of the enemy rode forth to stop him. The group fought with ferocity until the man from the Rider Clan finally dealt one man a death blow. The rider turned and rode out of the circle giving a shout that carried across the field. Sid watched the action, but didn't say a word.

Fred said, "That's a good way to get killed."

"The risk is high, but the rewards are great," Connor said. "That man stands a good chance of becoming a leader in the Clan. He may become Captain of the Guard at the Rider Citadel some day. There are lots of positions within the Clan that require men of skill and character."

"Trail by combat," Sid said watching while another man rode into the circle. He took a moment to interpret what he had seen in light of Connor's explanation. He wondered how many times Gregor had faced the circle.

"Seems stupid to me," Fred said. The young man was facing three of the enemy. He flinched when the young man received a minor wound.

Sid said, "This gives a young warrior the chance to demonstrate his bravery and skill in front of the entire Clan. It makes a very fine test of character for a nomad."

"You sound like you approve," Connor said.

"It seems to me that it is better to test your fighting skills against an enemy than a friend. Too often, clans end up with a lot of infighting for positions of leadership," Sid said. "It is still a risk, but it is better than having your best men kill each other off."

Nodding his head, Connor said, "The older men are deciding who goes in. They are letting in the ones who stand a good chance of succeeding and have the disposition to be a leader. It is not as chaotic as it appears."

The last rider had achieved his kill and road out of the circle. A woman rode into the circle and faced the enemy. Sid was a little surprised and asked, "Isn't that one of Masterson's women?"

Squinting his eyes, Fred leaned forward as if the six inch difference in distance would better allow him to see the woman and answered, "I believe it is."

"Interesting," Sid said. The woman faced several of the enemy at once. Her horse danced while she controlled it to keep from being in range of more than one of them at a time. Rider and horse worked together in an intricate ballet.

Fascinated by the action, Mandy watched the battle. So many brave young men acting heroic excited her. Seeing the woman there bothered her. She frowned and asked, "What is a woman doing out there?"

"I have to assume that she's married into the Rider Clan and is entering clan politics in a big way," Sid answered impressed by fighting skills of the woman he was watching.

"But she's a woman," Mandy said confused to see a woman participate in something that was clearly a masculine endeavor here on Chaos. A woman was supposed to be rescued, not participate in war.

"Yes, she is," Sid answered at the same time the woman made her kill. He watched her ride to the outer circle. The group of soldiers in the center threw down their weapons. Seeing it, Sid said, "It's about time they surrendered."

"The last fort has fallen," Connor said returning to the true matter at hand. Masterson's women rode out of the fort leading a dozen of the local men and women.

"Good. Let's get this army back in order," Sid said. Turning to the man with the flags, he said, "Wave the yellow flag."

Night had fallen and Sid's army had returned to camp. Men were gathered around individual fires in front of their tents discussing the kinds of things that soldiers talked about after a battle. The wounded were being treated, the horses tended, and sentries were guarding the camp. There were continual movements of men and goods around the camp as men used up supplies and then replaced them.

Tears in clothes were darned, leather items checked, and weapons were sharpened. Smoke and the odor of food being prepared in the camp kitchens wafted through the air. Laughter of men telling jokes, raised voices as men argued, and the hum of quiet conversations blended together to provide a background noise that said all was well.

Dracos poked a stick into the campfire in front of Sid's tent. Shaking his head, he said, "I didn't get to use my men in the fight."

"Sure you did," Sid said looking over at the depressed young man with a grin.

"We stood there and then marched forward. By the time we reached the fort, the fighting was over," Dracos said. A piece of burning wood popped and sparks flew up to the sky on currents of heated air.

"You're only talking about the last half hour of the battle. You were engaging the enemy for two days," Connor said staring into the fire.

"What are you talking about? We marched from one position to another every couple of hours."

"Exactly," Sid said with a wink over at Fred. His man knelt by the fire to adjust the pot of water to heat it for tea.

"I don't understand."

Reaching down to check the meat hanging over the fire on a stick, Sid said, "For two days you were able to make the enemy do exactly what we wanted. You may not have pulled your swords, but the entire army, including you and your men, kept that army bottled up in the fort."

"I still don't understand," Dracos said throwing another piece of wood on the fire in disgust. The piece of wood sent ashes into the tea water earning him a dirty look from Fred and Mandy.

Sid adjusted his stick so that the meat wouldn't cook as fast. Once he sat up, he replied, "War isn't about winning individual battles, although losing battles is a good way to lose a war. It isn't about achieving the highest body count. War is about control and achieving victory by having the enemy surrender control.

"A battle is a way to acquire greater control over an area than the enemy. We fought today to get control over this area, not to kill the men inside that fort. Your men, just by shaping the battlefield, were as critical to successfully gaining control of this area as the Rider Clan was by engaging the enemy."

Dracos had been waiting two days to lead his men in a charge against the enemy. He had slept at night dreaming of a glorious victory on the battlefield. Standing in front of his solders for two days and then marching across the field in time to discover that the enemy had surrendered wasn't very satisfying. He griped, "I came here to fight."

Nodding his head to signify that he understood, Sid said, "There is still a lot of fighting to be done. You'll get your chance to face the enemy."

"When?"

"When it happens," Sid answered. He was sure that tomorrow would be too long for the young man to wait and that once he had experienced battle that it would have come too soon.

Mandy had listened to the discussion fascinated by what she was hearing. Large-scale military actions such as this had not happened since the disaster that had rendered the men of Cassandra sexually inactive. In her mind it was incredible that Dracos wanted to fight. She had not thought that the men of Chaos could also have heroic tendencies. It was a shame that sex with one of them was so painful.

"What are your plans?" Connor asked to break the silence. For the most part, Sid now controlled the area that had been his original goal.

"We go east," Sid said. He picked up a stick with meat on it and ripped off a small piece. Savoring the flavor, he wondered what part of the cow it came from, but didn't bother to ask. Deciding that it was done, he handed it over to Mandy and said, "It's ready for you."

Mandy accepted the stick and bit into the meat with a dainty bite. She nodded her head and said, "This is very good. Thank you."

Taking the other stick of meat that had been cooking over the fire, Sid said, "You're welcome. I'm sorry that we don't have better fare, but our main camp is almost a day's ride from here. Tomorrow you'll eat a much better meal."

"I look forward to it," Mandy said. She took another bite of the meat and looked at the men gathered around the fire. Dracos had an eager expression that made her think of a dog being held back by the leash while being taken for a walk. Fred's expression was quieter and more thoughtful. Connor was continually looking away from the fire and at the rest of the camp as if expecting trouble to break out at any minute.

The only word that she knew for Sid's expression was introspective. There were times when he looked around the camp with a sense of heaviness. It seemed to her that he felt the weight of responsibility for all of the men in his army. He looked back over at her and said, "I hope that riding for a day won't be too hard on you."

"I'll manage just fine," she said with a smile at him. Her eyes flicked down to his crotch and she licked her lips at the thought of what was waiting for her within those leather pants.

Sid shifted uncomfortably upon seeing where she was looking. Dracos smiled when he noticed what was happening across the fire from him. Fred leaned over to her and whispered, "Eat while the meat is hot."

One of the sentries came over to the tent and said, "There's a man here who says that he was sent by Chambers."

"Send him over," Sid said glad to hear from one of the other Heroes involved in this war. So far he had been the only one sending out messages to the others.

The sentry ran off and returned three minutes later. A small swarthy man followed behind him and walked over to the tent. Looking at the half dozen people around the tent, he said, "I'm supposed to report to Sid Jones."

"That's me."

"General Chambers said that I'm supposed to say, Wuz Up. I don't know what that means, but I said it," the man said looking at Sid.

"And you said it quite well," Sid replied with a grin. Looking around at the blank faces, he said, "I'll tell you something just as nonsensical so that he knows you talked to me."

"Thanks, I guess," the man said.

"What's your name?"

"Tom."

"So what message does Malcolm have for me?" Sid asked.

"He said that he received your message about going into the area assigned to Danny Sun. He said that he'd be moving up that way from his position on the other side," Tom said.

"Good. Did he send a map?" Sid asked knowing that Malcolm would have marked out an area for each of them on the map.

"Yes, sir," Tom said handing over a folded sheet of paper.

Sid opened the map and noticed that there was a line drawn across half of it. His area was to the west of that line. There was a spot marked with the name Alice beside it. He recognized the name as belonging to one of the Damsels in Distress. Nodding his head, he said, "It looks like a fair distribution of responsibilities."

Tom didn't say a word, but looked around at the group of men. Fred asked, "Would you care for something to eat?"

"If that would be alright," Tom answered.

"Have a seat," Sid said pointing to an open area beside Dracos.

"There's more that I'm supposed to tell you, Sid Jones, but it is meant for your ears alone," Tom said after glancing at the spot.

"You can tell me here," Sid said.

"No sir. General Chambers was quite explicit in his instructions," Tom said hoping that Sid wouldn't press the issue.

Recognizing that the man would follow Gerald's instructions to the letter, Sid knew that it would do him no good to argue. He rose and, with a gesture to his left, said, "Walk with me."

The pair of men walked away from the tent. After they walked away from any ears that might overhear them, Sid asked, "What is the rest of the message?"

"He said that you can trust Lord Drake, but not Jameson. He knows both men and says that Jameson is an opportunist. He'll watch until he sees how things are going and then make the decision that best suits him. If you're depending on him, you might not get the support you expect," Tom said. He looked around for a moment and then said, "Don't trust Holland no matter what."

"Who is Holland?"

"He's in charge of the citadel to the north of Jameson. Chambers believes that Holland set up Danny Sun," Tom said.

"Does he have any evidence to that effect?" Sid asked.

"Well, Holland had joined Danny Sun's army when it approached his citadel. After Danny Sun was killed, Holland returned to his citadel with his troops. The slavers did not punish him for supporting Danny Sun," Tom answered with a nod of his head.

"That's proof enough for me," Sid said with disgust.



-------

Chapter 25


Shouting so that his voice would carry, Dracos said, "Keep your positions, men. Don't follow them."

Watching the last of the enemy retreat down the valley, Dracos stepped back and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his left arm. Rather than ridding his forehead of sweat, he had just smeared more blood across it. He blinked his eyes hoping to clear them of the sweat that had dripped into them.

Much to his relief, his men did not purse the retreating enemy. Exhausted beyond belief, he turned to the man beside him and asked, "Was that the sixth or seventh time they charged us?"

"That was the eighth," the man answered looking down at the body of the slaver at his feet. He kicked the body out of the way and then squatted down to recover his energy. He fell back on his butt with a groan. Not having the energy, he didn't try to rise.

"I can't feel my arms any more," Dracos said. It took the last bit of energy to put his sword into its scabbard. He blew air out of his mouth. His nose was stuffed with blood and snot. It had been broken by a lucky thrust of a slaver's shield. The incident would have killed him except for the intervention of the man beside him.

"What happened on the hill over there?" the man asked pointing to a hill overlooking the valley. In the middle of the last charge, he had noticed that fighting had broken out on the hill that was held by Jameson's forces.

Spitting on the ground, Dracos answered, "I don't know. I hope that Gregor got tired of trying to talk Jameson into attacking the slavers."

"Do you think they'll charge our position again?" the man asked.

Nodding his head, Dracos said, "We're the plug that is holding this pass. They'll attack again and again until their leadership is killed."

The man snorted and looked around the area in front of them. There wasn't a body with an officer's insignia anywhere. Shaking his head, he said, "We'll be here all damned month at this rate."

"I've got to check my men," Dracos said feeling the full weight of the responsibility that came with leading men into battle. He couldn't believe how heavy his arms and legs felt. He looked up and down the line with a frown. There were a dozen of his men dead on the ground and another three dozen who were wounded. Their losses had been light considering the intensity of the fighting that had taken place on that last charge. It was still too many men.

Dracos forced himself to move and stepped over the enemy body on the ground; the same one that the man beside him had moved out from under foot. His men were exhausted with most of them sitting on the ground trying to catch their breaths. If they felt half as exhausted as he, then they weren't in any shape to function. A very few men were trying to comfort their wounded compatriots.

With a sigh, he realized that no one had prepared him for the aftermath of a battle. Kneeling down beside a group of wounded men, he said, "I'll get the healers over here when I find them."

"Some of the supply men have been pulling the wounded out throughout the battle," one of the men said.

Another of the wounded men nodded his head and said, "They've been taking the worst of us first to be treated by the healers away from the battle."

"Good," Dracos said looking over the head of the wounded man. A dozen men were headed towards him carrying stretchers. Most of them were covered with blood. He watched as they loaded six men who were too wounded to move onto a stretcher. The men looked as tired as those who had fought. He wondered how many trips they had made so far.

Dracos looked over at a couple of men standing nearby. One of the men had a gash along his side. Another was holding a hand over a cut in his thigh. Although they were wounded, they were still able to move around on their own. He gestured to them and said, "You men should go with them."

"We'll go when the others have been treated," one of the men answered.

"You'll go now," Dracos said forcefully. He knew that if they didn't get sewed up soon they'd bleed to death.

"We'll go after the worst have been treated."

"You can help some of these other men get to the healers. You can wait to be treated there. At least this way, you and your friends will have a chance at medical care before it is too late," Dracos said.

"Yes, sir," the man answered. He and the rest of the walking wounded went over to the more seriously wounded men and helped them stand. Together, pairs of men made their way to where the healers were taking care of the wounded. Dracos didn't want to even speculate on what things were like where the healers were working.

Dracos continued down the line sending wounded back to where they could be treated. After dealing with a third group of wounded men, one of the walking wounded objected to being sent back to the healers. "You need us to fill out the ranks in case there is another attack."

Dracos looked at the man taking in the scars around his neck that marked him as a former slave. He said, "That may be true, but I want our wounded to be taken away from here so that they can be treated. There's been enough men die here today."

"But..."

Interrupting the man's objection, Dracos said, "We can move back a little and close ranks if there is another attack. You men have found bravely and well. Get your injuries treated and rest."

"Yes sir," the man said with a frown. He felt like he was abandoning his fellow soldiers.

Seeing the expression on the man's face, Dracos knew that his order was not being taken with the appropriate positive spirit. He noticed that some of the men who had been wounded in the first engagement were returning with buckets of water. Using that as inspiration, he said, "If you really feel that bad about my orders, help one of the men who was hurt more than you back to the healers. Those of you who want to help can patch each other up and come back here with some food and water."

"Yes, sir," the man replied with much more energy. He looked around and said, "What are you waiting for? We've got folks to get treated and work to do."

Dracos watched the men hobble off; pairs of walking wounded supporting a man between them. One of the three captains under his command spotted him. The Captain was one of the men who had been in his original command before their ranks grew with the freed men. He came over to Dracos and said, "We've lost a lot of men, sir. Half of my men have been wounded or killed."

"I know. It is the same along the whole line, Captain."

"I've got my squad leaders trying to get the men organized. What do you want me to do?"

"Right now I want you and your men to rest. The men are too tired to put up an effective defense. I'll try to get some food and water to you as soon as I can manage it," Dracos answered.

"My men will fetch the food and water, sir," the young captain replied.

"Derrick," Dracos said, "you and your men need rest as much as they need food. I'll find others to fetch food and water for them."

"But..."

"You need to take care of your men, Captain. One aspect of that is recognizing when they are too exhausted to function. All of our men are on the point of collapse. Let them rest," Dracos said.

"Yes sir."

Dracos headed down the line to see how the rest of his men were faring. The casualties were lighter as he walked further from the center of the line. He stopped in front of a squad that hadn't suffered a single wound. There were very few enemy bodies on the ground. Gesturing to the local area, he turned to the squad leader and asked, "Jack, what happened here?"

"Only a couple dozen of the enemy showed up here. We fought them off," Jack answered.

The twenty men in the squad would help shore up the center. "We need some reinforcements in the center of the line. I want you to take your squad to there. Eric is in charge there and he'll tell you where to put your men."

"Yes sir," Jack answered.

Looking over at next squad, Dracos said, "Mike, I want you and your men to go back to camp and get some food for the rest of the men."

Mike looked over at Dracos and said, "Sure."

"Don't let anyone eat too much," Dracos warned.

"I know that," Mike said. It was well known that eating too much food right before a battle could cause all kinds of problems including vomiting and cramps. A man who is fighting to keep his stomach down is at a disadvantage when fighting to stay alive.

"Some of the men don't know that. Don't let your men eat until everyone else has been fed," Dracos said. One of the men in Mike's squad frowned at the order. Dracos looked at the man and said, "Don't complain until you see what the others look like."

"Yes sir," the man answered. It was clear that he was not happy about having to wait before he was allowed to eat.

Irritated at the man's attitude, Dracos said, "Mike, take your men to camp now. I'll expect to see you and your men back at the line in fifteen minutes with food."

"Yes sir," Mike answered glaring at the man who had provoked Dracos' ire.

Without saying another word, Dracos turned and headed towards the center of the line. In the few minutes that had passed since he had walked this way, the number of wounded still waiting to be treated had been significantly reduced. There were a few faces that he didn't recognize and wondered if he was more tired than he thought. After watching Sid, he had made it a point to get to know the names of the men he was commanding.

Dracos reached the center of the line and found that Sid was waiting for him. Looking up at Sid who was still mounted on his horse, he said, "We held them."

"I saw that. The fighting over here was pretty intense," Sid said nodding his head. He was pretty sure that Dracos wouldn't be all that excited about having to lead an army into battle ever again.

"You can say that again," Dracos said.

"I've brought two hundred men to reinforce your position. I sent them to fill in some of the squads that were undermanned," Sid said.

"Thanks. We lost a lot of men," Dracos said. There had been wave after wave of attacks on his position. When one charge had faltered, a charge of fresh men had entered the fray. They had fought almost nonstop for two hours before the enemy finally retreated.

"I hope that next attack will turn out a little different," Sid said looking over the battlefield. He understood why Dracos hadn't tasked men to clear the area of the dead.

"What do you mean?" Dracos asked squinting up at Sid. He wished the man would get off his horse so that he didn't have to look up at him.

"You'll see," Sid answered.

Angry because of the number of his men who had died, Dracos asked, "Don't you trust me enough to tell me your plans?"

Shaking his head, Sid answered, "I trust you. I just don't trust that the enemy won't hear us."

"Oh," Dracos said. He looked down the valley and wondered how many of the enemy was watching them. He wasn't naïve enough to think that they weren't watching. He said, "Sorry. I'm just a little tired."

"I understand," Sid said. He looked down at Dracos and said, "Your men are resting. You should get a little rest too. I expect the enemy will attack within an hour."

"Well, you've really managed to cheer me up," Dracos said with irony dripping from his voice. He noticed that there was more than a little blood on Sid's clothes and wondered what had happened over in the other valley.

"I'm glad to hear that," Sid said with a smile. Seeing Dracos shake his head, he added, "You've done a good job so far. I know that you'll continue to do well."

"What are you going to do?"

Sid waved a hand in the direction in which the enemy had retreated and answered, "I'm going to do my job and make sure that the enemy doesn't win."

Dracos watched Sid ride off and then returned to where he had started. Sitting down on the ground, he turned to the man beside him and said, "Well Scott. It looks like we are going to be busy this afternoon."

"You don't say," Scott said scratching his cheek. There were only two positions that the enemy could attack and he was sitting right in the center of one of them.

An hour later, Dracos called his men to attention upon seeing the enemy appear across the field. His men were slow to rise, but the grim looks on their faces said that they were more than ready to fight. Swords and spears were readied to meet the enemy. Dracos shouted, "Hold your positions men. Make them come to you!"

There was the noise of men running and shouting as the enemy charged across the field towards Dracos. Taking a couple of deep breaths, Dracos prepared himself to fight. He bent down and lifted a spear with his left hand. He held it so that the sharp end was facing the enemy and the butt end was in a hole supporting it. He held his sword in his right hand.

The front row of attackers tried to avoid the spears, but the press of men behind them made that nearly impossible. Even as the first line of men fell, the brutal job of hand to hand combat was on. The enemy pressed forward hampered by the bodies of the last attack that were still underfoot.

The noise of fighting wasn't filled with the clang of metal striking metal. It was the dull thuds of sword striking wooden shields, the low moans of wounded men, the high pitched screams of angered men, and the horrible squishy sound of blade cutting flesh. Not as loud, but just as intense and frequent, were the grunts of man pushing man.

In the midst of a pitched battle, one is only aware of a few people. The person demanding the most attention is the enemy directly in front followed by the enemies to his side. Then one is aware of the friends fighting to each side. In the chaos of hand to hand fighting there isn't enough time to be aware of much more than that. A moment of inattention could lead to death.

At the height of fighting, Dracos realized that a new sound had filled the air. Lifting his shield to block a sword from an enemy to the front and left, he stabbed his sword forward to attack the enemy in front of him. When he lowered his shield, he glanced over the head of the man facing him and found a wall of horsemen riding directly at his position. Pressed by the enemy attacking him, Dracos did not spare the energy to even consider the implications of riders charging towards him. He moved his shield to protect himself and stabbed at another enemy.

The press of men against his shield suddenly increased. Dracos stabbed his sword forward and felt it slide into the man he was fighting. The pressure on his shield did not lessen. The man he had just stabbed did not fall to the ground. Dracos stepped back and looked around. Amidst the enemy's rear, the horsemen were striking the enemy and pushing them into his position.

It took five minutes, but enemy's attack was broken. Dead and dying men littered the space in front of Dracos' men. There was a cluster of the enemy standing between him and the men on horseback. The enemy soldiers dropped their swords in surrender and moved closer together. There were the sounds of men breathing heavily, horses nickering, and the moans of wounded men, but after the din of battle, it seemed eerily quiet.

Gregor rode over and nodded at Dracos. In a voice that carried across the field, Gregor shouted, "The enemy has surrendered."

Sticking the point of his sword into the ground, Dracos supported himself on it and looked up and down the line of defenders. There were more than a few men on the ground, but it wasn't as bad as he had expected. Looking over at Gregor, Dracos asked, "Why did it take them so long to figure out that it would be best to surrender?"

"Some folks are a little slower than others in figuring out what is in their best interests," Gregor answered. He leaned forward on his horse to watch the reaction of the young man to his words.

"Oh," Dracos said with a curt nod of his head. "I thought it was something like that."

Gregor laughed at the deadpan acceptance of his explanation and said, "Take care of your men. We'll clean up this mess here."

"Thanks," Dracos said. He turned to the man beside him and said, "Scott. Have the men help the wounded back to camp. Once there, get the wounded taken care of and the rest of the men settled. I'm going to stay here and talk a few minutes with Gregor. I'll be back in a little while to talk to the men."

"Yes, sir," Scott answered.

Gregor used his horse to split the cluster of enemy soldiers into two. The other men and women of the Rider Clan herded the captives to the center of the field. By the time they were done, there were four groups of captives sitting on the ground while the Rider Clan kept a handful of guards over each group. The rest of the Rider Clan dismounted and checked the enemy wounded. As was usual, those who would not survive their injury were put out of their misery.

Gregor dismounted and led his horse over to where Dracos waited. He watched Dracos' men slowly make their way back to camp. They were a pretty sorry looking lot of men. He said, "Your father would be proud of you."

"Why? Half of the men that came with me have been killed or wounded," Dracos said looking at the ground.

"Well, only a tenth of the men were killed and the rest will heal," Gregor said.

"It's too many."

"True. It's always too many," Gregor said. He sighed and said, "It would be nice if the losing side would recognize that they were going to lose before the fight so that it could all be avoided. The problem is that neither side believes they are going to lose."

Looking at all of the bodies scattered across the field, Dracos knew that his casualties were a lot less than those of the enemy. Shaking his head, he said, "At least we won."

"So tell me, will you come marching home with great fanfare to boast of your victory?"

Dracos looked down at one of the bodies on the ground and shook his head. He answered, "I don't think so."

"Why?"

"I didn't know these men when I left my father's citadel. As we traveled I learned more about them. In the quiet moments around camp, I heard them talk about their hopes and dreams. Some of them were pretty simple," Dracos said. He pointed down to the body on the ground and said, "Edgar just wanted to earn enough money to get a house and a wife. All he really wanted was a family. It's too late for him."

Looking around at all of the bodies around him, he said, "It's too late for all of them and I feel responsible for that."

"That's good," Gregor said.

"I'd feel horrible to march into the citadel boasting about my leadership when it got so many good men killed."

Nodding his head in agreement, Gregor pointed to another body on the ground. He said, "That man was a slave until we fought to free him. There are others who are currently slaves and will live to see their dreams as a result of this battle today. We'll free them and they'll have a life that is their own.

"You may not have heard them talking of their hopes and fears, but you know that they have them none the less. Maybe their dreams are even simpler than Edgar's dreams were. Maybe they just dream about being able to sleep in bed and wake late in the day. Right now, that is impossible for them. There is some measure of solace in that."

"You're right," Dracos said.

"So will you march into your citadel with great fanfare to boast of your victory?"

Having come on this campaign with dreams of glory, all Dracos felt was a hollow emptiness. He'd never listen to great tales of battles with the same ear. The price of glory was too high. The proof of that was in front of him to see, in the air for him to smell, and ringing in his ears as he listened to the wounded men moaning. He answered, "I don't know."

"Good."



-------

Chapter 26


There was a chill in the autumn air that night. Sid, Fred, Gregor, Dracos, Sebeson, Connor, and Barson were seated around the campfire; each staring into the fire. The smoke from the fire would occasionally blow in Barson's direction and his eyes kept tearing up. It was time to discuss the events of the day and to plan for the future.

Gregor said, "Thanks for your warning about Jameson."

"What happened there?" Sid asked.

"Jameson wasn't going to attack until he knew which way the battle was going. It looked to me like he was going to end up attacking us, so I beat him to it," Gregor answered with disgust evident in his voice.

"You're sure of that?"

"I sent orders to him to attack four times, but he kept sitting up on that hill watching our men dying below. If he had moved when I told him to go, the battle would have been over after an hour. Dracos would have only had a tenth of the casualties," Gregor answered. He tossed a small chip of wood into the fire thinking he would have liked to have thrown Jameson in there rather than the wood chip. It would have been much more satisfying.

Furious at learning of the treachery of a man who his father trusted, Dracos asked, "What did you do to him?"

"I went over to give the order personally the fourth time. When he ignored me, I cut his head off. There was a little bit of a ruckus, but my men gained control over the situation with the help of Jameson's second in command. It seems that the Captain of his troops was rather embarrassed by the actions of Jameson," Gregor answered watching the wood chip burst into flames. He was disgusted by the entire affair with Jameson.

"I thought that would be the case," Sid said shaking his head. He sighed and said, "I'm sorry to have put you in that situation."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about. You warned me about the possibility as soon as you learned of it. If you hadn't, I wouldn't be here," Gregor said.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dracos asked indignant at having been left out.

"How would you have reacted if the intelligence was wrong?" Sid asked.

"I'd have demanded that you apologize to him."

"Sid would have apologized to him without your demands. I guess the real question is if you would have confronted him with it prior to the battle," Sebeson said looking over at Dracos.

"I probably would have," Dracos admitted.

"You would have found that he would have attacked our forces rather than wait as long as he had. Instead of us sitting around here discussing his traitorous behavior, we'd have all been dead or slaves," Sebeson said.

"How do you know?" Dracos asked believing that they would have handled the situation.

"That's how Danny Sun was killed and I was taken prisoner," Sebeson answered.

News about how Danny Sun had been defeated sparked Sid's interest. Sitting up, he asked, "What did happen there?"

Shaking his head, Sebeson said, "Danny Sun had been approached by Holland to support his campaign. Danny agreed and the two groups seemed to be working together well. The two armies campaigned separately with Holland fighting in the West and Danny fighting in the East. They kept taking more territory. It wasn't long before the supply lines started getting rather long and Danny started to have supply problems.

"There were raids against his supply lines and he couldn't seem to prevent the raiders from knowing exactly where the wagons were. He set up caches and would return only to find that they were empty of goods. It seemed like an inside job, but Danny couldn't find the culprit. When supplies got too bad, he pulled back to regroup and re-establish his supply lines. That helped for a while, particularly when he started getting supplies from you.

"On a military front, things appeared to be going well. Every time Danny engaged the slaver army, we were very successful. Holland was reporting the same kinds of successes in his campaigns. The problem was that it seemed to me like the enemy had far too many troops. We'd engage the army and kill or capture thousands of men. Holland told us about engagements with the slavers and reported similar numbers. Still, every time we turned around there were thousands more of the enemy facing us on the battlefield.

"Danny was beginning to get suspicious and sent a man to watch Holland. I think that man was captured and confessed to Holland that Danny Sun suspected him of misreporting the body counts. As I said, I only think that. I don't have proof of it.

"It came down to a major battle in which the enemy was supposedly trapped between our forces and Holland's army. We took the field facing the slaver army. Holland's army was supposed to engage the enemy from their left flank. When the battle started, we found Holland's army was attacking our left flank. Somehow, he was on the opposite side of the battlefield from where he was supposed to be. From what I later learned, he moved his men behind the enemy we were facing to attack us from the other side.

"We might have been able to hold things together, but for one problem. Holland's army had been hiding another army behind his. When the battle started our right flank was being attacked by an army we didn't even know about."

Sid listened to the story and could see how the battle ended. Shaking his head, he said, "It must have been hell out there."

"You can say that again," Sebeson answered.

"Who was leading the fourth army?" Sid asked.

There was a long moment of silence while Sebeson considered the question. He finally said, "It could have been another part of the slaver army or it could have been Jameson. I never really saw who was in command. I can say one thing though; they weren't wearing slaver army uniforms."

Gregor swore and said, "There's no honor in this enemy we're fighting. They take slaves by drugging men in bars. They destroy villages to carry off farmers. They don't honor agreements or the honorable forms of battle."

Wanting to know the depth of treachery they were facing, Sid asked, "Do you think we should talk to the young Captain who took control of the army after Jameson was killed?"

With a look in his eye that suggested he was really interested in performing the questioning himself, Sebeson asked, "Who will you have question him?"

"Normally I would send Masterson, but he's away helping Colonel Lee," Sid answered opening the door for him to volunteer.

"I had heard that you were working with my little brother," Sebeson said with a shake of his head. The announcement immediately got the attention of everyone around the fire.

"Your brother? He said that you were cousins," Sid said surprised by the revelation.

"He's always saying that," Sebeson said with a laugh. He added, "I think he believes that since everyone assumes that we're cousins that one day we'll have a chance to meet on the battlefield as opponents. It's not going to happen."

Barson asked, "You're brothers? How come he's called Masterson and you're called Sebeson?"

Sebeson burst out laughing and said, "My little brother used to call himself the Master of Battle and he called me the Second Best Son. After a while, all of the kids were calling him Masterson and were calling me Sebeson."

Connor shook his head and said, "I can't see Masterson running around like a kid."

"I take it he's still his normal arrogant self," Sebeson said with a grin.

"He's mellowed under the influence of Sid," Connor said gesturing in the direction of Sid.

"I find that hard to believe," Sebeson said.

Shaking his head at the revelation concerning Masterson, Sid knew that the news about the treachery of the enemy was the more significant problem. He said, "We have a major problem that has to be resolved and quickly."

"What?" Sebeson asked.

"Some of the men I sent to support Danny Sun are already working with Holland. I'm pretty sure that he's setting them up for a massacre. We need to stop his plans from coming to fruition," Sid said.

"Who's in charge?" Connor asked trying to remember who had been sent out to support Danny Sun. With so many men joining the army it had become impossible for him to keep track of them all.

"Hunter," Sid answered looking over at Connor.

"He's a good man. I'll never forget his battle at Hunter's Crossing," Connor said recalling the man.

"He's one of the originals," Barson said feeling a little pride that he was also a member of the original group who left the Jones Citadel with Sid. So far, ten of their number had fallen in battle.

"We've got a lot of our original force there. I sent Albert there to support him with siege weapons and to help set up their supply line," Sid said.

Barson knew that Albert was there, but hadn't thought about it until Sid had mentioned it. Olaf was providing some support in the rear and watching over the women that Sid had rescued. There were times when he really missed having Olaf around. He said, "I'll go with you when you are ready to take care of Holland."

"No, you'll head back to help Olaf set up a better supply line," Sid said.

-------

In the morning, Hunter paced to and fro in front of the fire waiting for the patrol to return. They were a half an hour late. He glanced over at the man seated by the fire. He strode over to the fire and squatted down. Staring at the flames, he said, "Matt, it looks like last night's patrol won't be returning."

Looking over at the commander with an unreadable expression on his face, Matt asked, "Do you think they were ambushed or did they desert?"

"I don't know. I've lost close to a third of my men in the last three weeks under mysterious circumstances. I know the rest of my men are worried, but I can't believe that the missing patrols are deserting. I'm doubling the size of the patrols," Hunter answered. He looked up from the fire and over at Matt to see what the man had to say about it.

"Why?"

"I figure if they are deserting that it will be harder to talk twenty men into it rather than ten. If they are getting ambushed, I figure that they will have a better chance of surviving it," Hunter answered searching Matt's face for a sign of what the man thought about his decision.

"That's a start." Matt said fully convinced that the men were deserting. Men who died in ambushes left bodies behind, but they had not found any bodies.

"What else should I do?"

The other man pursed his lips and said, "You need to get a little harder on your men. A good commander knows how to put the fear of God into the men serving under him. I suggest that you really let the next patrol know that they are to keep their eyes open and come back. Let them know what happens to men who desert."

"Is that how Holland operates?" Hunter asked.

"You bet. He rules with an iron fist and his men love him for it," Matt answered with a smile. It would have been more accurate to say that his men feared Holland rather than loved him.

Shaking his head, Hunter said, "I guess I better send the next patrol out."

"Remember, put the fear of God into them," Matt said. He slapped Hunter on the back in a friendly fashion. It was the kind of gesture that a mentor would give his protégée before sending him off on a difficult task.

Hunter rose and walked over to where twenty mounted men waited for him. The men, almost without exception, were sitting in their saddles slumped over with frowns on their faces. None of them pretended to be happy to see their leader. The patrol leader grunted and said, "We're ready. We've been ready for thirty blasted minutes."

"Shut up!" Hunter shouted. He glared at the man and faced the rest of the men. In a loud voice, he said, "You're to keep your eyes open while you're out on patrol. Someone or something has been killing or capturing our patrols. I don't have to tell you that we haven't been able to find hide nor hair of any of the men who disappeared. You men fall asleep while on patrol and I'll take the whip to you. Do you understand me?"

In a half-hearted response, the men answered, "Yes, sir."

"Do you understand me?" Hunter shouted.

With a little more energy, the men answered, "Yes, sir."

"If I ever find a man who has deserted, I will flay him alive. I will rip off his skin with a whip one small sliver at a time. Do you understand me?"

Considering that all of the men in the patrol had been slaves, the threat of whipping did not invoke fear, but anger. With a little more energy, the men answered, "Yes, sir."

The look the men gave him was not exactly one of respect or fondness. Hunter looked over his shoulder at Matt seated by the campfire. Looking back at his men, he said, "Blake has his orders. Follow them."

"Whatever you say, sir," Blake answered in an insolent tone of voice that carried over to the fire.

"You and I will have a little talk when you return from your patrol," Hunter said looking at Blake.

"If we return," Blake answered. Rather than waiting for a reply from Hunter, the man turned to his men and said, "Let's go."

The patrol rode off leaving Hunter standing there with a look of anger on his face. Frowning, he turned and returned to the campfire. Shaking his head, he asked, "How was that?"

"Perfect," Matt answered with a smile.

"Really? I thought they left angry rather than intimidated," Hunter said watching the other man.

"It's easy enough to mistake the one for the other," Matt said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I wish General Sid was here. He'd know what to do," Hunter said.

Matt shook his head and said, "You've got one of the greatest military minds in this part of the world supporting you. Holland is just a week's ride away and will be more than happy to teach you a thing or two about managing your forces."

"I'd still like to send a message to General Sid. He needs to know that things aren't going all that well here," Hunter said. The last messenger he had sent to General Sid had been found less than a day's ride from camp with an arrow in him. Out of six messengers, five of them had been found dead within two days.

"Well, if you feel that strongly about it I could always arrange for my network of people to deliver a message to him," Matt said.

"You'd do that for me?" Hunter asked.

"Sure. We're allies in this war on slavery," Matt answered.

"Okay. I'll pen a message later and we'll send it out this afternoon," Hunter said wondering what he could put into the message to convey the situation to Sid. The fact was that he was worried and didn't want the enemy to know just how concerned he was about the situation.

"Great," Matt said smiling over at Hunter in an attempt to relieve him of some of his concerns.

Shaking his head, Hunter said, "I'm going to check the watch. Last night, we lost three men. We found the body of one of them, but two of the men disappeared."

"Sounds to me like your camp is being tested for weaknesses," Matt said. He had heard about one of the men being found dead, but hadn't seen the body and didn't know the details about the death. There was a rumor that one of the men in camp was responsible for the death, but that was just a rumor. He suspected that someone had killed the man while deserting. He noticed that Hunter didn't bother to mention the twelve men who disappeared from camp during the night.

"That's what I thought so I'm doubling the watch," Hunter said.

"Remember, you've got to instill the fear of God in them. Make sure that everything is just right and don't accept any excuses. If you find someone asleep on duty, make a good example out of them. You've been threatening them with a flogging for a week now. It's time to give the men one," Matt said fully convinced that Hunter would do exactly that.

"What if none of the men are asleep?"

"You'll just have to find another reason to flog one of them," Matt answered with a negligent shrug of his shoulders. There was always someone who was doing something wrong and could be used as an example.

Shaking his head, Hunter said, "These men really don't like the idea of being whipped. That was a common punishment when they were slaves."

"The reason they don't like the idea of it is because it is an effective punishment. Don't read anything more into than that," Matt replied wondering if Hunter had the stomach it took to achieve his mission.

"I'll think about it," Hunter said.

Matt rose from the log on which he had been seated and said, "I'm going to send a man out to Holland and let him know what is going on here."

"Any chance of having him send us some food?"

Matt frowned at the request before he answered, "I'll ask him, but we are all having supply problems."

"You've said that before. Maybe today's patrol will find one of our supply wagons," Hunter said. The loss of men from camp had actually allowed them to stretch what few supplies they had left from the handful of deliveries that had managed to get through to them.

"I'll ask Holland if he can spare some supplies," Matt said.

"Thanks." Hunter didn't bother to engage Matt in further discussion concerning his army.

Hunter went out to where his men were bunkered down in watchtowers watching for the approach of the enemy from the tree- line. To call them watchtowers was a bit of an exaggeration. They were basically small platforms raised four feet off of the ground and were intended to give the men a slightly better view over the tall grasses of the field. At each watchtower, Hunter talked to the men stationed there making sure that each understood their responsibility to his army.

It took Hunter an hour to visit all of the watchtowers surrounding the camp. When he had finished talking with the men in the last tower, his second in command came over and said, "This camp looks like hell. I don't like it."

"What's the matter?" Hunter asked.

"Send a couple dozen men out there to cut down all of that tall grass. The enemy can sneak up on us and we'll never see them," Dale said.

"I'll consider it," Hunter replied.

"The men are very nervous," Dale said with a frown. It was getting very difficult to control the men. The mysterious disappearances of their brothers in arms were making them nervous and suspicious.

"I know," Hunter said. He looked around the camp and said, "Matt has suggested that we make an example out of one of the men and whip him."

"You can't be serious? Doesn't he know what that will do?"

Hunter smiled and said, "I'm positive that he's very convinced it would be the best thing that I could do."

"That man is a fool," Dale said as he spat on the ground. From the very first moment he had met the man, he had a bad opinion of Matt and it was getting worse every day. It bothered him that Hunter credited Matt with far more intelligence than the man deserved.



-------

Chapter 27


Sid looked over at the man leading a full battalion of men and asked, "Sneak, what's going on here?"

"Getting ready for a big battle," Sneak answered flashing a huge smile at his General. The previous day he had learned that Sid was in the area when one of his scouts reported the army moving into the area. He had dispatched a patrol to lead Sid to them, but had been pretty sure that Sid would be too late to help them in this particular engagement. Five minutes earlier he had been given the news that Sid had arrived along with two thousand men, including a thousand warriors of the Rider Clan. He was just in time.

"You're a scout. What are you doing leading these men?" Sid asked wondering if he had arrived too late to save Hunter.

Sneak laughed and pointed in the direction of the woods that hid the field below from sight. Although they couldn't see it, three armies were moving into position on the battlefield. He answered, "On the other side of the woods is a large wheat field. Hunter is down there pretending to be our entire army. I was the only one he trusted to lead this motley crew."

Sid looked in the direction of the battlefield and shook his head in dismay. Unable to see the battlefield, he asked, "What's the distribution of forces?"

Pointing to one end of the woods, Sneak said, "The slaver army is over there. Directly across the field from them is Hunter with his troops. Next to Hunter's army are the forces that Holland is leading. The official plan is that Hunter and Holland will advance on the slavers and engage them in a head-on fight."

Assuming that Sneak's men were the reserve, Sid said, "We've got to tell Hunter that Holland is going to attack him."

When Sid prepared to ride down the hill, Sneak grabbed Sid's arm before he could kick his horse. He said, "He knows."

"What?"

"He knows. When the battle starts, Hunter is going to follow the unofficial plan. His forces are going to turn and attack Holland while my forces charge the slaver army," Sneak said. The beginning of the battle would be announced by the sounding of horns.

"I don't understand how that would work with Holland knowing that you are up here," Sid said. The enemy would surely take Sneak's men into account in setting up the battlefield.

"Well, that's a long story. The short version is that they don't know about us."

"What?" Sid asked.

"It seems that Hunter has been having a lot of trouble with men deserting, higher than average causalities when he engages the enemy, and problems with his supply lines. At least, that is what Holland believes," Sneak said with a grin. It had taken them a month to come up with a plan that would allow them to trick the enemy.

Fred looked at the troops assembled behind him and, incredulous, asked, "Do you mean to tell me that the enemy thinks all of these men deserted? There's got to be a thousand of them."

"Well, it took us about seven weeks to assemble this force. Ten men here, twenty there, and a dozen on this raid or that," Sneak answered with a grin. The entire time men were sneaking out of camp, Holland's man, Matt, was giving Hunter advice that would further justify men in deserting. Shaking his head, he said, "Hunter even had a whole mounted patrol disappear a week ago. I understand that he put on a pretty good show at being furious. The man Holland assigned to serve a liaison and advisor acted really surprised, but the man could hardly keep from dancing with joy."

Open mouthed at the audacity of the plan, Fred asked, "How did your guy know about Holland?"

"Oh, we found a couple survivors from Danny Sun's army about the same time that Holland saddled us with his man, Matt. They told us all about Holland's treachery," Sneak answered. His manner became more serious when discussing Holland.

Frowning at the fact that he was not informed about the intelligence, Sid asked, "Why didn't you let me know?"

"Our messengers were getting killed. We couldn't risk having that message fall into the hands of the enemy," Sneak answered. The only messages that they sent were identical to the ones that they were sending to Holland fully aware that Holland would receive word about what was in the messages to Sid.

Sid looked over his shoulder at Gregor. Smiling he asked, "Would you like to take some of your mounted men and provide Hunter with some unexpected support?"

Gregor grinned at the chance to reward treachery in the best manner possible and that was by defeating the traitors. He said, "You bet."

Having spent the discussion mentally sizing up the battlefield, Sebeson suggested, "How about you put your men on the other side of Holland's men?"

"Sounds perfect to me," Sid answered with a grin. He could imagine the expression on Holland's face when an army suddenly appeared at his back.

Gregor turned his horse and rode off. Fred maneuvered his horse into the spot vacated by the man and his horse. Sid looked over at Connor and said, "You know. I bet a thousand men behind the slaver army would surprise them as well."

Nodding his head, Connor said, "I'm on it."

Connor turned his horse and rode off in a hurry. The commander of the remaining troops was getting his men organized to set up camp. It would take ten minutes to get them prepared for battle and even more time to get them into position. Connor gave them the orders and then returned to Sid's position.

Gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb, Connor said, "The men are five minutes march behind us. It's going to take them some time to get in position."

Nodding his head, Sneak said, "I had better dispatch someone to let Hunter know that he has some unexpected help. He'll need to delay a little to give your men a chance to get into position."

"That would be a good idea. How will you manage it without alerting the enemy?" Sid asked.

"We've got a latrine set up by the woods. No one watches what goes on around a latrine," Sneak answered with a chuckle. He turned and pointed to one of the men standing to the side. In a soft voice, he said, "Go down there and let Hunter know that General Sid is here. We've put a force in place behind Holland's army and another force is getting into position behind the slavers. We need thirty minutes delay for them to get into place."

"Yes, sir," the man answered before running down the hill. He quickly disappeared into the thick woods.

Sid didn't like being in a position where a major battle was about to take place without having prepared the battlefield. The thick trees kept him from even seeing it and that was making him nervous. He said, "I'd like to see the battlefield."

Sneak shook his head and said, "I'd love to show you the battlefield, but we can't risk being seen. I'm pretty sure that the enemy would retreat if they were to discover that we are up here."

"You're right," Sebeson said.

"Any chance they know you are here?" Fred asked finding it difficult to believe that they could hide a thousand men from the enemy. The audacity of the plan was staggering.

"There's always a chance that they know, but we've been very careful," Sneak answered making reference to the efforts they had taken. Any time they encountered the enemy, they had fought to make sure there were no survivors of the engagement even if it meant greater casualties than they would normally accept.

It seemed like forever for thirty minutes to pass, but the time finally came when horns sounded from the battlefield below them. Sneak's forces, led by Sneak himself, raced through the trees to attack the enemy while it was charging Hunter's forces. Sid was anxious to see the battle and said, "Let's go down and check it out. The need to stay hidden is over."

"Yes, General," Connor said and nudged his horse to head to the rear of Hunter's lines.

Unlike the troops, the party was not in any special hurry to reach the battlefield. Before they reached the battlefield, Sid noticed a man lying on the ground. He rode over and bent down to examine the man. In the center of his forehead was a huge red spot. Sid looked around and shook his head. A dozen paces away a saddled horse was placidly eating grass. He dismounted and knelt beside the downed man.

Connor rode over and down at the man on the ground. Concerned that it suggested something ominous, he asked, "What happened?"

"He hit his head on a branch in his race to get to the battlefield and knocked himself out," Sid answered checking to see how badly injured the man was.

"He's going to be feeling that for a day or two," Connor said shaking his head. It would have been funny, but this was a serious matter.

"Where are the medics camped?" Sid asked.

"Back the way we came," Connor answered meaning the healers that remained in their camp. He looked around for someone to send and realized that their party was the only ones around.

Knowing that he was the least important person there, Fred said, "I'll go get one of them to fetch this fellow."

"Thanks, Fred," Sid said standing up. Shaking his head, he said, "He'll be seeing double for a week if I'm not mistaken. I imagine his friends will tease him about this for years to come."

Watching Fred ride off, Connor laughed and said, "Not all injuries in a battle are delivered by the enemy. The ones we give ourselves just don't seem to have that same heroic quality."

"True," Sid said with a chuckle. He looked over at Connor and asked, "Did that ever happen to you?"

"Not really. I nearly broke my foot tripping over a root while running at the enemy once. I was lucky; one of the enemy soldiers rushed me and tripped over another root. I was able to pass off the time spent on the ground cursing from the injury as a major stroke of strategic genius," Connor answered with a grin.

A wry grin crossed Sid's face and he said, "I'm sure all the fellows with you were convinced you were telling the truth."

"Not a single one believed it," Connor said chuckling.

Satisfied that Fred would take care of the downed man, Sid remounted. Turning his horse so that it faced the proper direction, he said, "Let's see what's happening on the battlefield."

By the time the party reached the battlefield, the fight was over. Holland's forces had surrendered and the slaver army was destroyed. Sid looked around and spotted Hunter directing men to take care of their fallen comrades. Shaking his head, Sid said, "That didn't last long."

"The best battles don't last long," Sebeson said.

Hunter spotted them and rode over on his horse. Once there, he said, "General Sid. Thank you for the re-enforcements. Things went a lot better than planned."

"I was pleased to learn that you knew of Holland's treachery. I was afraid that I'd come here to find out that he'd been successful in wiping out your army," Sid said looking over at the man he had put in charge of this campaign. In the six months that had passed since he had last seen Hunter, the man looked to have aged ten years.

"I remembered your advice to trust no one," Hunter said looking Sid in the eye. He had been lucky to have learned of Holland's treachery right after meeting the man. Holland was very convincing.

"You not only remembered it, you also followed it," Sid said. He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a large sack of money. Handing it over, he said, "Reward your men this afternoon for a battle well fought."

Hunter accepted the money and said, "Thank you, General. I'm sure that the men will enjoy the fruits of their labor. It's been tough controlling the men over the past few weeks."

"Why?"

"None of the men knew that the desertions were planned. It got to the point where I had to send the most worried of them to Sneak so that they wouldn't totally destroy morale," Hunter said. Keeping the men loyal without telling them what was going on had been the toughest challenge of the entire campaign.

"I can imagine," Sid said. His opinion of Hunter went up even further. Controlling soldiers was difficult under the best of circumstance. To control soldiers when they believed that half of their force had deserted was saying something incredible.

Hunter could see that Sid was impressed. He said, "Things will settle down when the payroll arrives tomorrow. The men are going to get a bit of back pay since I didn't want to risk having it stolen by Holland and his men."

"You've done an excellent job," Sid said looking around the battlefield. Men who had been thought to have deserted were greeting their comrades. He could see the details of their departure being explained in clusters all over the field.

"Thank you, General," Hunter said. Looking over the group of men with Sid, he said, "I see that you picked up another advisor."

"Yes, that is Sebeson. He's Masterson's brother," Sid said.

"I thought they were cousins," Hunter said looking over at Sebeson.

"Nope. Masterson is Sebeson's little brother," Sid said.

Hunter leaned his head back and broke out in laughter. He said, "Next time I see Masterson I think I'll call him Baby Bro."

Everyone around laughed, particularly Sebeson who was having a difficult time staying in his saddle. When he finally calmed down, he said, "You know, I think that my little brother has just found a new nickname."

-------

Once camp had been established, Sid, Hunter, Sebeson, Connor, Fred, and Sneak went over to where Holland and his staff were being held. They were a grim looking group of men who glared at Sid's party. When they reached them, Sid asked, "Which of these men is Holland?"

Hunter pointed to a gray haired man with a large mustache and answered, "That one is Holland."

Sid looked at the man and shook his head. He was a heavy set man with the basic build of a bear. In a disgusted tone of voice, he said, "Come over here Holland."

"Who are you to give me orders?" Holland asked and turned his back to Sid. Holland glared at Hunter, but didn't say another word. When he didn't move to where Sid and the others were waiting, a guard came over and pushed him forward. Holland stumbled to a halt in front of Sid.

"I'm Sid Jones."

The last time that Holland had been in the presence of a hero from Earth, the situation had been reversed. Danny Sun was bound and begging to die as hot metal was run over his body. He said, "You can't treat me like this. I'm the ruler of a citadel."

Frowning at the man's audacity, Sid said, "Your treachery cost the lives of Danny Sun and his men. You extended your hand in friendship and then used that same hand to slip a knife in his back. You have no honor."

"Danny Sun was a fool," Holland said and then spit on the ground.

"You tried to do the same thing to Hunter," Sid said disgusted by the man.

"Okay, so you won this battle. You can still use my help in taking on the slaver army. I know a lot of things that will give you an advantage," Holland said deciding that his best strategy was to negotiate his way out of trouble. The problem was that there wasn't a slaver army to betray. Sid's forces had nearly wiped it out.

Shaking his head, Sid said, "Help like yours could get us killed. I'm not interested."

Holland was quiet for a moment trying to think of something that he could say that would spare his life. He said, "I'll swear fealty to serve you."

Turning to Hunter, Sid asked, "Did he swear to be an ally?"

"Yes, General."

Turning back to Holland, Sid said, "We've seen the value of your oath. Your oath means nothing."

Holland glared at Hunter and said, "An oath given to an inferior isn't binding."

It was obvious to Sid that further discussion would serve no purpose. Shaking his head, he said, "Hang him."

As two of the guards pulled Holland away, the man shouted, "You'll live to regret this!"

Turning his back to the scene of Holland struggling against his guards, Sid looked over at Hunter. He asked, "Who else needs to be judged?"

"Matt. He was Holland's agent in our camp," Hunter answered pointing out the man to Sid.

"Ah, he was Holland's spy," Sid said examining the man. He was a good looking man who exuded an aura of trust.

Matt glared at Sid and said, "I'm a soldier and I did what a soldier does. I served my leader."

"You presented yourself to Hunter as an Ally. Instead, you fed him incorrect information and jeopardized his men," Sid said.

"Hunter was the enemy," Matt said thinking that he should have killed the man when he had the chance. He'd had lots of chances to kill Hunter while making it look like someone else had done the deed.

Shaking his head, Sid asked, "What was your role in taking down Danny Sun?"

"I was liaison between Danny Sun and Holland."

Sebeson glared at Matt and, in an angry voice, asked, "You knew the whole time that you were in our camp that Holland was going to betray Danny's trust, didn't you?"

"Sure, you old fool," Matt answered looking at Sebeson like he was something he had scraped of the bottom of his shoe.

It was obvious that the man didn't feel remorse for his actions. Sid said, "Hang him."

Turning to the leader of the slaver army, Sid examined the uniform and saw that the man was a colonel. He asked, "Colonel, what are you doing in charge of this army?"

"What do you mean?" the man asked.

"Where's the general who would normally be in charge of a force this size?" Sid asked. There had been just over a thousand men in the slaver army participating in the battle.

"If my intelligence is correct, you killed him," the Colonel answered with a shrug of his shoulders. There had been a time when he'd marched proud at his rank in such a strong force. Concerns about the morality of slavery weren't an issue. The slave army had been reduced to nearly nothing over the past year and it had made him rethink his role in enforcing the slave laws.

"How large is the army that remains?" Sid asked.

The Colonel sighed and answered, "Maybe we have a total of ten thousand troops left and they are spread all over the place. Most of them are fighting Colonel Lee. We were once a military force that was over a half a million men strong. Colonel Lee has nearly destroyed the forces facing him. You've defeated the last of our major forces in this area. Malcolm Chandler has disappeared, but his forces are clearing out a few smaller groups."

"Are you telling me that you were the last of the organized forces of the slaver army?" Sid asked figuring that Malcolm had returned to Crossroads with his Damsels.

"Basically. There are a few troops here and there, but the largest group is maybe a hundred men. They aren't in a position to oppose you. They've kept busy keeping the slaves in line rather than defending territory," the Colonel answered. The area they had controlled had been huge. The force that he had brought here had represented the men pulled from over fifty towns and the Holland citadel.

"They are busy keeping the slaves under control?" Sid asked wanting clarification about that statement.

"Yes. The slaves have been engaged in local uprisings over this whole area. A rumor gets started in an area that one of you is nearby and the slaves go crazy."

"So I take it that your empire is falling apart," Sid said.

"No, General Sid. I would have to say that the slaver empire is no more," the Colonel said. It hurt more than he could put into words to say that, but it was a fair assessment of the situation.

"I will send you to the Citadel where we have the rest of the officer staff being held," Sid said. He believed the man's assessment of the state of the slaver army. His forces had been riding across a broad area and had reported meeting almost no resistance.

"You mean you haven't been executing them?" the Colonel asked glancing over at the two figures swinging in the breeze.

"No. I've held the officers in a detention center. The rest of the men we've captured have been serving as temporary indentured servants," Sid answered looking at the Colonel surprised that the man didn't know that.

"Thank God," the Colonel said in obvious relief. Curious, he asked, "Why did you hang those two?"

"They were criminals, not soldiers," Sid answered.



-------

Chapter 28


Most of the businesses had been abandoned in the small village located at the crossroads of two minor roads. There was a market that looked like it hadn't seen a trade in months. Slaves didn't go to the market, while slave owners brought in goods by the wagonload from larger towns. An abandoned building that might have been a hardware store faced the street with a door that hung loose on its lower hinge made of leather. A stable with a single worn out horse in the corral occupied the other corner. There was only one business that looked like it was doing well and that was a tavern.

Sid stopped and looked up at the sign with a picture of three sheaves of wheat. He decided that it was a universal law that taverns did well in the best of times and the worst of times. He recalled reading about a silver town in the old west that was abandoned and the last place to close was the saloon. He turned to Fred and said, "This appears to be the place."

"I'll go in with you," Fred said getting ready to dismount.

"No. I want you to go back to the troops and let them know that I'll be here a while," Sid said twisting around on his saddle to look over at Fred. He shifted the reins of the horse he was leading to his other hand.

Frowning, Fred said, "I'm your sworn man. Don't make me choose between following your order and protecting you."

"I don't need protection," Sid said not wanting to go through this discussion again.

"I'll go in and have a drink while you are taking care of things. I promise that I'll ride and get some troops if something happens that you and I can't handle," Fred said.

Deciding that was as good of a deal as he was likely to get, Sid said, "Okay."

The two men tied up the three horses before entering the tavern. The low door required Sid to bend down to avoid hitting his head. He was going to have to remember that if he needed to make a hasty retreat. Inside, he was presented with a typical low-end tavern complete with dirt floors, tables that were more likely to give you a splinter than support your weight, and chairs that were big logs cut to height.

The man at the bar looked over his visitors and decided that they, like most strangers, were trouble. They weren't wearing the uniforms of the slaver army and they didn't look like an overseer. He reached under the bar and put his hand on the club he kept there. Deciding there were better ways of handling them, he put his hands on the bar. Attempting to sound friendly, he asked, "What brings you men out here?"

"Passing through," Sid answered looking around the public room. There were a couple of rooms off the back end of the public room.

"So what can I do for you?"

Sid wandered over to the bar and said, "Well, a little watered wine for my friend and me would be a good start."

When the man didn't move to pour a watered wine, Sid pulled out a quad from his coin purse and tossed it on the bar. The coin attracted the man's attention. His hand flicked out and the coin disappeared. Turning his back to Sid, he poured a pitcher of watered wine. After setting the pitcher on the counter, he put two pewter tankards next to it. Smiling, he said, "There you go."

Sid picked up the pitcher and filled one of the tankards with some of the watered wine. He slid the tankard across the bar and said, "Drink."

The smile disappeared from the barmen's face. He looked down at the tankard and then up at Sid. With a much weaker smile on his face, he said, "I don't drink."

Sid pulled out his sword and put the point to the man's throat. In a hard voice, he said, "You do now."

Swallowing heavily, the barman picked up the tankard. It slipped out of his fingers and fell to the floor. In a nervous voice, he said, "It slipped."

"There's another tankard here. Fill it and have a drink," Sid said without taking his eyes off the man.

Without looking away from Sid's eyes, the barman reached for the pitcher and knocked it over. Watered wine flowed across the counter and dripped to the floor. He smiled and said, "Clumsy me."

Sid said, "Fred, would you mind going behind the bar and fixing this man a tankard of watered wine out of the leftmost barrel?"

"I'd love to do that," Fred answered while making his way to the bar.

The barman grabbed the club under the bar. Before he could get it out, Sid had hit him atop his head with the flat of his sword. It was not a gentle blow. The barman crumpled to the floor. Sid climbed over the bar and squatted next to the barman. Looking up at Fred, he said, "I would say this man definitely didn't want to drink his own wine. You'd almost think it was drugged or something."

"I can see where a suspicious man would think that," Fred agreed with a smile.

Sid tied up the man and propped him up against the wall. Rising from his place on the floor, he said, "Let me check the rooms."

"I'll watch him," Fred said while pouring a tankard of watered wine from the suspect cask.

"What's that for?"

"In case he wants something to drink when he wakes up," Fred answered with a smile. He wiped down the bar before taking a seat on it where he could watch the barman in comfort.

Sid went to the doors in the back of the tavern. He opened the first and saw that it was empty. He went to the second one and opened it. It too was empty. This was not a good sign. The third door opened onto some stairs that went up to the second floor. Frowning, he followed the stairs to the room at the top. This room was not empty, but there wasn't any one in the room. This was clearly the living quarters of the barman.

Sid searched the room but didn't find what he was seeking. Disgusted, he went down the stairs and said, "She's not here."

Fred looked over from his perch on the bar and said, "I guess we'll have to wait here until this fellow wakes up."

"I didn't hit him that hard," Sid said wondering why the man was still unconscious.

"I've got an idea," Fred said eyeing the man on the floor.

"What?"

"How about I open the taps on all of these kegs here until he comes to?"

Smiling at Fred, Sid said, "That sounds like a wonderful idea to me."

There was a low growl from the man on the floor. The barman said, "I'm awake."

Sid walked behind the bar and looked down at the man. A full minute went by before he said, "Fred, why don't you go fetch Gregor?"

"Gregor?" Fred asked surprised by the request.

With a grin that no man ever wanted to see given in his direction, Sid said, "Yes. Gregor was sold into slavery by a barman who drugged his wine. I have a feeling that he'd just love to talk to our friend here."

"You're probably right."

"I bet that Gregor could get answers to any question that we might want answered."

The barman groaned and then said, "I'll answer your questions."

"Where's Alice?"

The temptation to deny that he knew anyone by the name of Alice was almost too much. One look at Sid's face convinced the man that the time for games was over. He answered, "I sold her to Curtis. He took her down to the Yellow Onion in the town two days east of here."

"Why did you sell her?" Sid asked curious about the reasons why the man would get rid of a Damsel. Even though he had no idea what the woman looked like, he knew that she had to be attractive. He said, "She's a pretty woman."

"She was very pretty, but she was a burner," the man answered.

"What's that?" Sid asked. He'd never heard the term.

"Some women have private parts that will burn the cock right off a man. The only way you can fuck them is with a sheath. With a woman that pretty, a lot of men will put up with wearing a sheath. Of course, out here men aren't all that particular about the looks of the woman. They're in it for the action and the sheath kind of kills that," the barman answered. He wondered how it was that Sid didn't know about burners.

Sid said, "It won't really burn the cock off of the man."

"No, but it sure feels like it. It took two days to put out the fire after I first experienced her," the barman said with a frown.

"You say that she's at the Yellow Onion in the town two days east of here," Sid said.

"That's right."

Shaking his head, Sid said, "That leaves me with a problem, Fred."

Looking at his fingernails as if he had discovered something very interesting on them, Fred asked, "What kind of problem, Sid?"

"Well, if I go running down to the Yellow Onion then this fellow here has four days to run away. It would be really hard to track him down if he was lying to me," Sid said. He scratched his chin as if deep in thought.

"I can see where that would be a problem. What do you propose to do about it?"

"I suppose that I could leave a hundred men here to watch over him," Sid said watching the expression on the man's face change.

The man croaked out, "A hundred men?"

"That's not a bad idea," Fred said examining the fingernails of his other hand. He looked up at Sid and asked, "Who would you leave in charge of that many men?"

"I suppose there's only one choice," Sid answered.

"Who?"

"Gregor," Sid answered with a smile. The barman paled upon hearing the answer.

"I'll go get him," Fred said getting up from the bar. When he reached the door, he said, "I'll be back in ten minutes. I'm pretty sure that Gregor will be here in five."

The barman leaned against the wall considering his fate. He was pretty sure that he was going to be dead soon. Looking up at Sid, the pieces started falling into place. When he realized the identity of the man standing over him, he said, "You're General Sid, aren't you?"

"That's right," Sid said.

"Who is Gregor?"

"He's one of the leaders of the Rider Clan," Sid answered.

The barman felt like he was going to be sick. If it was true that someone had drugged a leader of the Rider Clan, then he was in serious trouble. The Rider Clan was big on honor and had a tendency to react negatively when someone did something that they viewed as being dishonorable. He groaned and said, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Have you been lying to me?"

"No, sir," the barman said with wide eyes.

"That's good. You see, if I'm all upset because you lied to me when I get back from my visit to the Yellow Onion, I can assure you that you will be a lot more upset than me," Sid said.

The door of the tavern banged open and Gregor's voice rang out through the room, "Where's the skunk who tried to drug you?"

Sid leaned over and patted the barman on the cheek. With a malicious smile, he said, "I do believe he is talking about you. You know, I think you are in for a couple of days of fun."

"Shit."

-------

The group of ten men entered the Yellow Onion. Nine of them settled down at one of the tables while one member of their group went to the barkeep. The lone man said, "Two large pitchers of your best watered wine and a dozen tankards."

The barkeep, a man who knew his business, had started to fill a pitcher while the order was being placed. It took him ten seconds to pour the two pitchers. After setting them on the bar, he started to set out the tankards. He looked over at the table and said, "There're only ten of you."

"Two more are coming here," the man answered. He put a shell on the counter and said, "This will pay for the next few pitchers as well."

"Right," the barkeep said eyeing the glass coin. That much money would keep that group in watered wine for the entire evening.

The man looked around the room and spotted four men at another table. He said, "I see a couple of men in here wearing uniforms. I didn't realize that there was a fort out here."

"There isn't. They just finished putting down the slaves on the Scrim's place. There was a rumor that those bastards trying to get rid of slavery were in the area. They had to kill every slave on the place," the barkeep said.

"I'm sure the Scrims were not all that happy to see their investment die off like that."

"They weren't around to mind. The slaves killed them and all but one of the overseers," the barkeep said with a shrug of his shoulders. That was one of the hazards of owning slaves. Most owners did their best to make sure that the troublemakers never had a chance to create any trouble. As far as he was concerned, the Scrims had been inattentive to their business.

"Well, let me get these drinks over to our table," the man said picking up the two pitchers. The barkeep picked up the coin and went over to his cash box. That single coin doubled the amount of money in the box.

Sid, followed by Fred, entered the room and went over to the barkeep. Once there, he said, "I heard that you have a girl here by the name of Alice."

"She's one of the whores upstairs. You want her for an hour?"

Sid shook his head and said, "I'm here to free her."

The barkeep laughed and said, "That's a funny one."

There wasn't a smile on Sid's face when he said, "I wasn't being funny."

The barkeep shouted, "Hey guys, this fellow thinks he's going to free one of my whores."

The four soldiers started to rise from their seats, but the sudden presence of swords pressed against their necks changed their minds. They slowly sat down deciding that caution was the better part of valor. One of the men holding a sword against the neck of a soldier said, "I didn't see their Captain. I have to assume that he's upstairs."

The barkeep looked at Sid and said, "You've got to be crazy. There're a hundred soldiers in town."

"Not anymore. You see, my army just liberated this area," Sid said.

"Holland rules here," the barkeep said unable to believe that the way of life he had grown accustomed to living had come to an end.

"Holland is dead."

"What? Holland is dead!" the barkeep shouted.

There was the sound of someone bumping into something from above and then a door burst open. A man wearing only pants stepped out and shouted, "What's this about Holland being dead?"

Fred stepped back and looked up at the man at the top of the stairs. He answered, "Holland is dead. He was hung last week."

The Captain ran down the stairs with a worried expression on his face. This was not the kind of news that he wanted to receive. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his concerns quickly changed to the sword that was at his throat. Stammering, he asked, "What's going on?"

Sid nodded his head in the direction of the Captain and answered, "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Sid Jones and my army has just liberated this town along with the farms in the general area."

There was a thump when the barkeep hit the ground in a faint. Sid looked down and said, "I don't think he's having a good day."

"He's not the only one," the Captain said with a frown. He didn't even have his sword with him. In his excitement at the news, he had raced downstairs without it.

Laughing at the comment, Sid went over to the stairs and climbed to the top. There were six doors; three on each side of the hallway. He entered the first room on the right and found a naked woman seated on her bed. She looked over at him with dead eyes and sighed. She asked, "How long did you pay for?"

"I didn't pay," Sid answered.

Resigned to entertaining one of the friends of the barkeep, she fell back on the bed with her arms out and spread her legs. In a bored voice, she said, "Have at it."

"I have a better suggestion," Sid said.

"What?" she asked dreading the answer. She hoped that this guy wasn't into anal sex.

"I suggest that you dress yourself and go downstairs. One of my men will remove the collar," Sid answered.

Unable to believe what she was hearing, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're free," Sid said with a soft smile. The expressions that flashed across her face ranged from disbelief to fear and then to relief. Finally, the woman leapt up and grabbed the sheet from the bed. Wrapping it around her body, she dashed out the door.

The conversation was repeated four more times as Sid went from room to room. At the sixth door, Sid could tell that the woman inside was a Damsel. She had an amazing blend of Asian and African features. Smiling, he said, "Hello, Alice."

"I have to warn you that I'm a burner. You'll need to wear a sheath if you want me," Alice said dreading another session.

"No I won't," Sid said.

Tears started to well up in her eyes. Pleading, she said, "You have to wear one."

"I'm here to take you back to Cassandra," Sid said.

"Cassandra?" she asked with wide eyes. She glanced down at his crotch and asked, "Are you from Earth?"

"Yes I am, my Damsel."

The answer nearly brought her to orgasm. Not once in the months of servicing men of Chaos had she even come close to having an orgasm. It seemed as if once a week some man would not believe that he needed to use a sheath and she'd have problems for days. Even with a sheath, the men of Chaos didn't satisfy. She asked, "Are you going to accept my reward?"

"Yes," Sid said.

Tears running from her eyes, Alice said, "Thank you."



-------

Chapter 29


Alice rode beside Sid as they approached the rundown town positioned at the crossroads of two minor roads. Several dozen very rough looking men were leaning against buildings doing their best to look intimidating. They were watching the roads as if expecting trouble to appear any minute. Each man was well armed and touched their weapon from time to time as if to assure themselves that it was still there. Alice nudged her horse closer to Sid's and said, "Those men look dangerous."

Sid looked around and nodded his head in agreement. He said, "They are dangerous."

"Maybe we should avoid them," Alice said. She looked at the handful of Sid's men riding behind them and doubted they were enough to protect them. It had bothered her when more than half of his men had ridden away earlier that morning.

One of the men who had been leaning against a building stepped forward and placed himself in their path. Terrified, Alice stopped her horse in an attempt to keep as much distance from him as possible. The man glanced at her and then looked over at Sid. Frowning, he said, "We expected you yesterday."

"We had a few people to liberate," Sid said pulling the reins and stopping his horse a few steps from the man.

"These are your men?" Alice asked wondering how many men Sid had riding with him. Alice settled beside him staring at the man thinking that Sid must be a great hero if he had more than a hundred men in his band.

"Yes, they are my men," Sid said with a smile. He gestured down the crossroad and said, "Those are also my men."

Alice looked in the direction that Sid had pointed and swallowed heavily. On the edge of town was a huge camp with hundreds of men in it. Rows of tents lined the road with battle hardened men guarding entry into the camp. From her location she could see the kitchen in which the food was prepared. Based on the size and quantity of pots, she figured that this camp had to hold at least five hundred men.

She looked back at Sid thinking about what kind of child he was going to give her. The thought of it almost gave her an orgasm. She stared at the bulge in his pants wondering what he was going to be like in bed.

Sid managed to get her attention off of his crotch when he said, "Come on. We've got a little errand to run now."

She turned to him and asked, "All of these men are yours?"

"Yes," Sid said with a grin. It seemed to him that she had asked that question at least once every hour of the trip.

The pair entered the Three Sheaves Tavern with Sid leading the way. Alice followed behind him keeping as little space as possible between them. She amazed to find another dozen men sitting around the tavern. She recognized the place and shuddered at the memories it invoked. She moved even closer to Sid.

Looking around for the man who had originally purchased her from the slavers, she nearly fell over when she spotted him. He was tied to a plank that was hung from the ceiling. He was tied with the plank to his back, but he was hanging face down and was swinging to and fro with his nose twelve inches from the floor. He looked positively ridiculous.

A rather large man with an angry expression on his face was seated near the plank. He looked up when Sid entered the room and said, "This here fellow was beginning to get worried that you weren't coming back."

"You don't say, Gregor," Sid said. He pointed to the barman and asked, "What's he doing up there?"

"That's a long story."

"Give me the short version," Sid said.

"You take all of the fun out of the telling."

"That's my job," Sid said with a grin.

"The stupid fool tried to run off last night. Well, we couldn't have him trying to do that again so we tied him up so that he was hugging that post over there," Gregor answered. He lifted a foot and kicked the plank setting it swinging even more. The barman groaned behind his gag. Grinning, Gregor said, "He started complaining about his feet hurting, so we tied him to the plank and then tied the plank to beam."

Shaking his head, Sid said, "Didn't you know that you were supposed to tie him to the top of the plank rather than under it?"

"I considered that, but it was just too much work," Gregor said. He grabbed the plank bringing it to a sudden halt. Leaning down so that his mouth was next to the man's ear, he asked, "Why should I make a skunk who serves warriors drugged wine comfortable?"

The barman mumbled something that was unintelligible. Sid said, "Well, he told me where to find Alice."

"Does that mean that I have to let him go?" Gregor asked.

"Yes," Sid answered.

Gregor reached over and grabbed the ropes holding the barman to the plank. His knife sliced through the rope with ease. The rope slowly loosened until the man fell to the ground. Gregor leaned down and said, "You better run. If I ever see you again, I'll kill you."

The barman took one look at the expression on Gregor's face and ran out of the bar without looking backwards. The look of terror on his face was not faked. He didn't even take the time to remove the gag in his mouth.

The man's actions made Sid wonder what had really happened while he had been gone. Putting an arm around Alice, he led her over where Gregor was seated. Gesturing to the man, Sid said, "Alice, this rather angry looking man is Gregor of the Rider Clan. Gregor, this is Alice."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Alice said looking over at Sid for protection. Half whispered, she added, "I think."

Gregor grinned at the addendum and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Sid sat down and said, "Tell me what really happened."

Gregor took a long swig from his mug of watered wine and then said, "The man is a coward and a fool. After you left, I was stuck trying to figure out what to do with him. I figured, hey he's a barman so I'll have him work the bar. There's enough men in here that he won't be able to go anywhere, so why not?"

"Sounds reasonable," Sid said.

"So anyway, we had him working at the counter handing out drinks. Last night, the idiot gets it into his head that he's going to escape. Two hours after sunset, he drugs the wine and serves it to the men I had in here watching the place. You know how I feel about that."

"I'm surprised you didn't kill him," Sid said shaking his head.

"I was sorely tempted, but I knew that you'd want to question him if you didn't find Alice," Gregor said. He took another sip of his wine and said, "Well, the men notice that things aren't quite right when a couple of the fellows fall asleep in their mugs after a single tankard. The call went out as the idiot was trying to slip out the back door. He ran into me."

"So you tied him to the plank and played with him," Sid said.

"Actually, I did tie him to the post and he did complain about his feet hurting. That's when one of my men suggested that we ought to tie him to a swing like one of those women in the fancy houses. Well, we didn't have a board the right size, so... You get the idea," Gregor said.

Alice laughed and said, "He looked so stupid hanging upside down like that."

"Where's Derek?" Sid asked. The man who normally went everywhere with Gregor wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"He was one of the men who were drugged last night. He's sick as a dog," Gregor said.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe we should have kept the barman here for a bit so that Derek could have talked to him," Sid said.

"Derek would have killed him in the old way. Today, we reserve it for only the most cowardly of men who hurt the tribe through treachery," Gregor said with a hard expression on his face. He looked off to the side as if wanting to avoid an unpleasant memory.

"What does it involve?" Sid asked looking at Gregor. Based on his behavior, it was obvious that Gregor had delivered that punishment at some point in the past.

Gregor reached into his belt and pulled out a small knife with a slightly curved blade that wasn't more than an inch in length. The knife was typically used by the nomads to trim leather and was kept razor sharp. Gregor said, "He'd have worked him over with his leather knife until the idiot died. It probably would have taken a day or two."

A look of horror crossed Alice's face as she imagined what that would encompass. Staring at Gregor, she asked, "Why would you do that?"

"So that the coward learns the real meaning of pain so that in the next life, he won't be a coward. It also assures that anyone thinking of violating the trust of the tribe thinks twice about doing it," Gregor answered. He took another sip of his watered wine and looked over at the bar. He slipped the knife back into his belt.

Looking over at Alice, Sid said, "When a member of the tribe does something treacherous against his tribe, he's bringing death to people he's known his whole life. In a clan, everyone helps everyone so that all can live. If you destroy that spirit, then you destroy the clan and everyone in it. That can't be forgiven."

"He wasn't of the tribe," Alice pointed out.

"He was allowed a position of trust and he violated that trust. You have to trust that the person who feeds you won't poison you instead. He may not have been a member of the tribe, but he attacked Gregor's family in a very cowardly manner," Sid said.

Alice looked at Gregor and asked, "The people who were drugged were members of your family?"

"They were all of the Rider Clan. We're all related one way or another," Gregor answered looking at Sid. Although it shouldn't have, it amazed him that Sid understood Clan justice. He sighed and looked into his empty tankard.

"You're not happy," Sid said.

"The kind of vile treachery that I've seen on this campaign makes me sick to my stomach," Gregor said. He felt like the people in this whole area had no sense of honor.

"Why don't you head home?" Sid asked.

"I'll support you as long as you need me," Gregor said sitting up. The idea that Sid would dismiss him before the campaign was over angered him. His life had been saved by Sid and he owed a debt of honor. That debt would not be paid until Sid was victorious.

Sid said, "Tomorrow, I'm leaving. We'll go to the twin valleys battle field and pick up Dracos. From there, we'll go to the Drake Citadel. I'll meet with the leaders of my army and turn over the clean up of this area to them. Then I'll head down to River Crossing to pick up the other three Damsels waiting who are waiting for me. We'll return to my citadel."

"You're done?"

With a thoughtful expression on his face, Sid said, "The enemy army has been destroyed. There are little groups of ten to a hundred men scattered over the entire area. Most of them will drop their uniforms and return to life as civilians. It's no longer a war."

Gregor pursed his lips as he considered the situation. He knew that Sid was right. There wouldn't be any more pitched battles. The Citadels were captured. The major towns were occupied by Sid's forces. The smaller towns had been liberated and the former slaves had taken up arms to protect their new homes. Nodding his head, he said, "I'll send out a call to gather the Clan. We'll escort you to River Crossing and then head home."

"It will be nice to be so well protected," Sid said meaning exactly that. Gregor would have almost three thousand members of the clan with him since many of the single men had married women from Masterson's brigades.

It finally dawned on Alice what Sid had said earlier. Looking around, she asked, "Three other Damsels? What do you mean there are three other Damsels waiting for you?"

Gregor laughed and said, "Oh no, Sid has woman trouble. I can't protect him from that."

-------

Sid, Alice, and Gregor rode at the head of a column of three thousand mounted warriors. They were heading to where the last major battle of the war had been held to meet up with Hunter and his men. The landscape had not changed, but the atmosphere of the land was subtly different. The men and women working in the fields they passed were working because they wanted to be there. Their efforts were far more energetic and the overall productivity across the area was higher. When all is said and done, slaves are not a very effective workforce.

In the course of the few weeks since being freed, large estates had been broken into smaller holdings with temporary structures put into place. Most of the structures were made of wood that had been salvaged from the outbuildings of the estates. A few were previous cottages that had been abandoned when the previous owners had been enslaved. All of them would be uncomfortable when winter came, but it was a start on a new life and the discomfort would be tolerated.

In a year's time, it would be hard to see that slavery had ever held there except in the attitude of the people. Despite the fact that Sid's army had liberated, each person stopped working and watched them pass by with apprehension. The concern could easily have transitioned to violence. Every person working in the field carried a knife or club with them. All knew they owed Sid a debt of gratitude, but the presence of armed men riding past their houses or into their towns reminded them of the time when men with less honorable intentions had visited them.

Fred and Derek rode behind Sid and Gregor talking about the campaign from their individual perspectives. Derek said, "I'll be glad to get home and see my family. It's been three years since I've seen them."

Having lost his family when taken as a slave, Fred didn't have that potential for a happy ending to his tale. He said, "I'm happy for you."

"What will you do now that the war is over?"

Looking at Sid, Fred said, "My place is beside Sid."

"The Rider Clan is basically a nomadic group. Most of our lives are spent moving from one place to the next, but we do settle down now and then. We even have a citadel. Sid is an adventurer. He's never going to stop moving," Derek said looking over at Sid. The man looked as fresh as the day he had first met him. The time spent traveling and camping appeared to have no effect on Sid.

Fred asked, "What are you trying to tell me?"

"You're never going to be able to rest," Derek said shaking his head. He felt sorry for Fred and the future he faced.

Overhearing the conversation, Sid knew it was time to address the problem that had been bothering him since Fred had sworn service to him. That problem was what to do with Fred when he returned back to Crossroads. Fred would not be able to join him in the trip. Many restless nights had been spent trying to resolve that problem. It was time to see what Fred thought of his solution.

He dropped back and said, "Being my sworn man involves more than fetching things for me or preparing my meals. I can hire some attractive young woman to do that. Being my sworn man involves more than acting like a bodyguard. I can hire a dozen men to do that. Being my sworn man means that there is a sacred bond between us."

"It is a bond I would never break," Fred said nodding his head in agreement.

"That bond means that I can trust you to put my interests first," Sid said looking over at Fred.

"Of course," Fred said. As far as he was concerned, Sid was stating the obvious. If Sid were to become injured, then it was his duty to provide for Sid. It didn't matter if it meant that he had to take a job to earn money and hand over every dime to Sid. The oath he had given was binding.

"No amount of money can hire that," Sid said.

"That's true," Fred said wondering what point Sid was trying to make.

"I need you to watch over my interests," Sid said. He rode along for a moment and then said. "As Derek rightly pointed out, I'm an adventurer. You won't find me settling down."

"I'm prepared to follow you anywhere," Fred said.

"The fact that I won't settle down is a problem for me. How can I manage my properties when I'm not there? How can I collect money that is owed to me by renters when years pass between visits?" Sid asked.

Fred rode along thinking about the questions that Sid had asked. Frowning, he couldn't see a solution to Sid's problem. He said, "That is a difficult problem."

Nodding, Sid said, "It is a problem that has bothered me for a long time. I have given it a lot of thought, but I can only see one solution."

"What?" Fred asked thoughtfully.

"You must act for me when I am not around," Sid said.

"What? Fred asked shocked by the suggestion.

"Yes. I need you to take care of my interests when I'm not around," Sid said.

The suggestion that he would serve Sid by not attending to Sid directly bothered Fred, but not as much as he had thought it might. The level of trust that Sid would demonstrate by giving him responsibility for his interests was a compliment. It was an awesome responsibility; one that could seriously test his oath. He said, "I don't know what to say."

"Then say nothing for now. Think about it and we will talk about it later," Sid said feeling like the talk had gone quite well. Several more such discussions would allow him to leave Fred in charge of his properties without worry for either Fred or his properties.

"Yes, Sid," Fred replied.

Sid nudged his horse to catch up with Gregor and Alice. When he reached them, Gregor gave him a nod of approval in how he had handled the matter with Fred. Alice stared at Sid wondering how he had managed to get someone to swear service to him. Derek was watching Fred trying to judge the man's reaction. The only one who seemed himself was Sid.

Deciding that it would be fun to shake up Sid's complacence, Gregor said, "Now that the campaign is over, I guess it is time for you to start considering how you are going to rule your kingdom."

"My kingdom?"

"Yes, you are king of this area. What are your plans for a castle?"

"King? Castle?" Sid asked not having given it much thought. That he would be king had been mentioned, but he had not really thought about it. He had expected to slip away and allow things to return to normal, but that didn't seem to be possible.

Alice looked at Sid with huge eyes and, without saying a word, mouthed, "King?" She let out a small moan as an orgasm washed over her at the thought that her child was going to be fathered by a king. All of the men looked at her wondering if she was okay. The only one who realized what had caused the moan was Sid. She screamed, "You're a King?"

"I don't know," Sid answered.

"Of course you are. You have taken this territory through force of arms. You know the rules of warfare. This land becomes yours because you were the leader. This area has several citadels and towns that you have taken by force. It is up to you to decide who gets to run them unless the person already running it has sworn allegiance to you. If you grant someone ownership to the citadel or town, they become a Lord," Gregor said. The area controlled by the Rider Clan was basically considered a kingdom and the head of the Clan was the king, although they called him The Horseman.

"Uh, I don't really want to be a king," Sid said thinking that the whole purpose of the campaign was to rid the area of slavery, not to become king.

"You should have thought of that earlier," Gregor said with a grin.

Alice asked, "Why wouldn't you want to be king?"

"I'd rather be rescuing Damsels," Sid answered.



-------

Chapter 30


Sid and his men returned to the battlefield where they had fought Holland. Hunter was camped there directing his men in a campaign to liberate the few slaves that remained on some of the more remote farms. Most of the men injured in the earlier battle had recovered sufficiently not to require too much care. Those who were off duty were wandering around camp enjoying their free time.

Meeting up with Hunter, Sid said, "Gather your commanders. We need to make some plans for the future."

Nodding his head, Hunter dispatched man to carry out Sid's orders. Turning to Sid, he said, "I take it we have won."

"Yes. All that is left is to free the rest of the slaves," Sid said. The capture of the villain responsible for establishing the slave society was being pursued by another Hero from Earth. He hoped Kyle Alexander would be successful. With a slight feeling of unease at the direction of his thoughts, he watched Fred take care of Alice. The man had led her off to a tent and was getting her settled in for the stay.

"That's good. To tell the truth, I've been getting a little tired of all of this fighting," Hunter said. When he had left Jones citadel, his father had told him that this campaign would make him a man. His father's words had been too true. His father had neglected to say that it would make him feel like an old man.

"Every man around here feels the same," Sid said. He looked over at two men sitting around their campfire repairing their clothes. It was such a common sight that it was easy to overlook.

"I noticed when you returned that there were fewer men than I expected. Did you run into trouble?" Hunter asked to fill the sudden silence.

"No. I told the men as we were returning that if they spotted an abandoned plot of land that they wanted to go for it. A lot of the men took me up on that offer. Some even split off at crossroads looking for places of their own," Sid answered. There were a lot of farms that had been taken over and integrated into larger places. The freed slaves had chopped them up into smaller places, but there were plenty of abandoned spots left.

Nodding his head, Hunter said, "That's good. I was wondering what the men would do when we disband the army."

"I'm not disbanding the entire army. At all of the towns over a hundred people, I've left two men to serve as my representatives. I've left twenty five men in the towns with populations over a thousand," Sid said watching Hunter's expression. He had a number of people who he was going to set up as Lords over those towns.

"That's a good idea," Hunter said.

"There's still the matter of what to do with the Citadels that I've captured."

Hunter didn't make a comment. He wasn't sure where Sid was headed with this discussion. Smiling, Sid said, "I thought it would be fitting for you to take charge of Holland's citadel. There may be a little fighting left there, but I'm sure that you can handle it."

"You're giving me a citadel?" Hunter asked surprised by what Sid had said. Two years of fighting had convinced him that he was a good soldier, but it hadn't convinced him that he was the kind of man who would make a good Lord.

"Yes."

"Wow."

"I guess once you swear loyalty to me, you'll be Lord Hunter," Sid said with a smile.

"I will gladly swear loyalty to you," Hunter said overwhelmed.

"You'll need to select who you want to take with you to be your guard," Sid said.

"This is so unexpected. My dad is going to be so proud of me," Hunter said thinking about his father back at the Jones' Citadel.

-------

Confused at being summoned by the General, Sneak joined Sid in front of Sid's tent. Sid was surrounded by Sebeson, Connor, Hunter, Gregor, Fred, Derek, and Alice. He wasn't sure that being called there when Sid was surrounded by his advisors was a good thing. Trying to sound relaxed, he said, "You wanted me?"

"Yes, I did," Sid answered glancing at the others seated around the camp. He took a long look at Connor and, once the man had smiled at him, he nodded his head. He turned to Fred and asked, "Is there any more tea?"

"I'll make some," Fred answered getting up from his seat.

Sid gestured to a seat across the fire from where he was seated and said, "Have a seat."

"Thanks, General," Sneak said wondering why he had been summoned. He glanced over at Hunter, but the man didn't say a word and seemed as confused about the summons as he was.

"Are you doing okay?" Sid asked in a pleasant conversational voice.

"I'm doing fine," Sneak answered. He had plans for the future and they were looking bright.

"I gave Hunter a citadel earlier today," Sid said.

"I know," Sneak said, "He told me about that."

Fred returned to the fire with a pot of water and hung it to boil. When he had moved out of the way, Sid said, "I understand that you were thinking that you'd go there to be captain of his guard."

"That's the plan," Sneak said.

Shaking his head as if disappointed, Sid said, "I wish you would change your plans a little."

Seeing the puzzled look on Sneak's face, Hunter looked over at Sid with a frown and then asked, "Why should he change his plans?"

Gregor covered his mouth with his hand and looked the other way. Sebeson chuckled, but controlled it after a sharp look from Sid. Fred filled the silence by saying, "The tea will be ready in five minutes."

"Thanks, Fred."

"Why should I change my plans?" Sneak asked. The idea of being Captain of the Guard had really appealed to him. It was one of the best jobs that a man could get.

"How are you going to run your own citadel when you're Captain of the Guard at another one?" Sid asked watching the expression on Sneak's face. For a minute it looked as if someone had sucker punched him.

Once he had recovered from his shock, Sneak answered, "I can see where there would be problems with that arrangement. I'm sure that I could come up with a creative solution."

Hunter shook his head. If he had to lose his first choice as Captain of the Guard, then this was the way it should be done. He was pleased to see that Sneak was going to have a future equally as good as his.

Derek broke out in laughter and said, "No one has ever solved the problem of having to be in two places at once."

Sid said, "There's a citadel two weeks ride north of here. It was held by Jameson, but he's dead now and I have some men guarding it for the moment."

"You're giving me the Jameson Citadel?"

"I suppose that you could rename it the Sneak Citadel," Sid said.

Sneak stared at Sid unable to believe that he had been given such a choice property. Shaking his head, he asked, "Why me?"

"Well, it seems like you were always there when big events took place. If I recall correctly, it was you who rounded up some of raiders for the battle at Hunter's Crossing. It was you who lead the other half of the army in the campaign here," Sid said gesturing to the field around them.

"There's been a lot of fighting in this war. Scouts are usually right there in the thick of things," Sneak said feeling a little uncomfortable at having been singled out for his actions.

Sid nodded his head and said, "You were also one of the original men recruited at the Citadel. Every one of you is going to end up with an estate of some sort. Most will end up ruling over cities as my representative."

"Oh, that's nice to know. Still you're talking about a citadel," Sneak said. A Citadel was more than just a city when part of a Kingdom. It was a civilian and military presence of the King. He pointed to Connor and asked, "Why didn't you offer it to him?"

"I did and he didn't want it," Sid answered knowing that Sneak might be a little upset to learn that he was second choice.

"Oh," Sneak said. He wondered what was wrong with the citadel that caused Connor to turn it down.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Connor said, "I'm an old man and ready to retire. I'm going to take a nice administrative position at River's Crossing and spend the majority of my time fishing."

"The tea is ready."

-------

Satisfied that things were going well, Sid watched Hunter and Sneak ride off in different directions with three hundred men each. The two young men had grown a lot during the war. He was pleased with what he would be able to tell their fathers about how they had done on the campaign. Looking over at Fred, he said, "That's another six hundred men we've managed to place."

"You seem to be spending a lot of time disbanding your army. Why all of the effort to make sure that they have places or jobs?" Fred asked. At every small town, city, and empty farmstead, Sid had left men behind to start a new life with sufficient material to make a good go of it.

Smiling at Fred, Sid answered, "The end of a war usually leads to a lot of homeless men who take up less than honorable ways of making a living. The wounded men often end up begging or stealing. The healthy who can't find work tend to take up banditry. By making sure that folks get a home and job, I'm preventing future problems."

Fred asked, "Are there enough possibilities to take care of all of the army?"

"There's been a lot of death over the last two years and that has to have hurt the labor pool significantly. The slavers killed a lot of businesses by eliminating regular towns. There will be inns and stores opening up all over this land. If the owner of the inn or store has lost an arm or a leg, it doesn't matter to anyone but the owner. It matters to him because he has a business. It is a much better life than being forced to make a living by being a beggar."

"That's true," Fred said.

"As a result of the efforts of Barson, Olaf, and Albert, there's going to be a major increase in trade. Our drovers will start up shipping companies and they'll need guards. The businesses that Albert started will grow with time and require more labor. That's going to provide a lot of jobs in the future."

"And taxes," Fred said realizing that Sid was going to be one of the wealthiest men in all of Chaos. He ruled over an area that was huge. The King's cut of all of the transactions that took place within that area was going to be substantial.

"Which will go to pay for border guards, city watches, and a small standing army," Sid said.

"What about a castle?" Fred asked looking over at Sid.

"I guess we'll have to build one of those too," Sid answered with a nod. He figured that Albert would enjoy the challenge of designing and building a castle.

"That'll be a lot of work," Fred said shaking his head.

"I know," Sid said. He glanced over at Fred and said, "I'm expecting that you'll be taking a lead role in all of this work."

"I was afraid that you would say that," Fred said with a sigh.

-------

Riding to the site of the Two Valleys Battle, Sid was pleased to see the army of Dracos spread out over the field in good order. The camp looked to be in good shape. The tents were laid out in nice lines, guards were posted and looked alert, the grounds were clean, and the forces going about the normal business of running a military camp. Looking back at the forces with him, he wondered how the camp would look after more than three thousand more soldiers joined them.

Amazed at the quantity of men in the camp, Alice asked, "Is this part of your Army, too?"

"Well, these men belong to Lord Drake and are currently commanded by Dracos. Lord Drake has sworn allegiance to me as part of this war. I'll have to get him to swear allegiance to me as his King," Sid said.

A slight blush came to Alice's face. The desire to be touched between the legs rose and nearly made her gasp. When she noticed he was looking at her, she said, "You have no idea what it does to me when I hear you say that you are a king."

Looking at the bullets tenting the shirt she was wearing, Sid was fully aware of the effect his words had. He was very familiar with the psychology of Damsels from Cassandra. He said, "I can imagine."

"Can't we stop at the nearest bank and go back to Crossroads?" she asked with an edge of begging in her voice. The days of riding beside Sid and watching him command his troops had put her on a slow boil. Any time now she expected her passions to overtake her better sensibilities.

"I have to pick up the other three Damsels first," Sid said. He wondered what kind of reception he would receive when they finally reached River's Crossing.

"I need you, now," she complained with a small pout on her face.

"I'm sorry," Sid said. She wasn't the only one in sad shape. He hadn't had sex in more than two years and being around the beauty of a Damsel was the ultimate in temptation. The woman exuded desire. Every move she made was graceful and suggestive of sexual promises that would delivered, although of late her moves were getting more obvious.

-------

Dracos greeted Sid with a manly hug and said, "It's good to have you back. I take it things went well."

"They went very well. The war is over and the Slaver Army has been destroyed. I've got forces out cleaning up the few holdouts, but it is well in hand," Sid said.

"Great. I'll let the camp know that we're moving out tomorrow," Dracos said. He'd spent the past few weeks sending out patrols and freeing a few more slaves. It had felt good leading the men in such activities. Despite the dangers, his men had not suffered any casualties. After the horrors of the battle played out here, he hoped that he'd never have to take up a sword again.

"Great. I've got three thousand men with me," Sid said.

"I expected that and have cleared the second valley for them," Dracos answered. There had been a time when he wouldn't have thought about preparing for such an event. The time spent with Sid had taught him a lot. War wasn't about riding in front of a column of men wearing pretty uniforms to impress the young women. It was serious business that required planning and attention to detail. Surprise, rather then the enemy, was the most dangerous foe.

"Good. I'll let Gregor know where to set up camp," Sid said pleased to learn that Dracos had made accommodations for Gregor's men.

Dracos looked at Sid and said, "I'll be glad to get home. If I never have to fight again, I'll be happy."

"But you'll know how to protect your father's citadel if the need is ever upon you," Sid said.

"True," Dracos said. He looked over the site where they had fought with a shudder. In a soft voice, he added, "It was a lesson that came at a high price."

"It always does," Sid said with a sigh. He looked around the camp. The men were active and it was obvious that all of them were looking forward to returning to the citadel. Some were facing uncertain futures since they had joined just after being freed. He asked, "What of the men who were slaves?"

"My father told me that he was going to reserve some lands for them to settle when they returned," Dracos said. He had been surprised when his father had said that to him before leaving on this campaign.

"Have you told the men that?" Sid asked.

"Not yet," Dracos answered feeling a little embarrassed. On seeing the look Sid gave him, he said, "I had thought of springing it on them at one of the battles as a way of increasing their desire to fight. I know it was rather foolish of me, but I didn't know better at the time."

"When do you plan on telling them?" Sid asked.

Dracos answered, "I was planning on telling them once you returned. I figured it would give them something to look forward to during the march home. I wasn't going to do it while we were camped here waiting for you since I figured that it would only make the time go by slower."

"That's good enough," Sid said with a smile.

Looking over at where the men were gathering, Dracos said, "I gave the order to have the men assemble the moment I saw you. I'll talk to them now."

Alice joined Sid and watched as Dracos stepped in front of the men who had followed him out of the Drake Citadel. The relationship between men and commander had changed over time. The arrogant brash young commander had been replaced by a modest thoughtful leader of men. He had gone from knowing no one he was leading, to knowing every man by name and history.

Dracos addressed the assembled men. "Men. I have called you here to talk of the past, the present, and the future. Most of all, I want to talk of home.

"We have experienced great hardship since leaving my father's citadel. We have marched great distances and fought in a hard battle. We have lost friends. In the process, we have defeated an enemy most vile. We have freed men and women who had been enslaved.

"Today, we stand victorious. We have won the war. The slaver army has been defeated. Feel proud of what you have accomplished," Dracos shouted. His words were greeted with cheers.

Once the cheers had subsided, he shouted, "I'm sure that many of you have fears of what is to come. Let me assure you that my father and I have not forgotten that many of you had nothing before beginning this journey with us. My father has reserved lands for you. Tomorrow we leave for home and I want you to know that you will be welcomed with open arms and a future."

There was a huge roar of approval from the men. One of the great fears that had been haunting many of the men had been removed. Sid nodded while he watched the men stand taller and huge smiles as future plans began to form in their minds. Nodding his head, he said, "That was well done."

"What?" Alice asked.

"Winning a war is about more than defeating an enemy. It is also about keeping the future safe for your people. If you sacrifice your future to defeat the enemy, you have lost just as surely as if the enemy defeated you. He let them know that their futures are safe and that the war ended in the right way," Sid answered.

Sid thought about wars on Earth. Too often war was followed by bad economic times as the war machine shut down and men who had fought returned home to mass unemployment. It was tough getting a start when competing against those who had developed support structures while remaining behind. The education he was getting had been a way to develop a future.

As King, it was Sid's job to help the men who were his subjects to recover from this disruption in their lives. It was a job that he didn't have to do alone. He had help. Barson, Olaf, and Albert had put into place an infrastructure that would prevent a major setback in the economy of Chaos.

Alice nodded her head. The war on Cassandra had cost them everything. The men had been neutered and the future had threatened extinction of their people. She said, "You're doing a great job of providing a future."

Watching Dracos hand out money to the men, Sid said, "It's tough being a King."



-------

Chapter 31


The procession into the Drake Citadel was a stately occasion. There were drummers pounding out a dignified cadence. The victorious men marched in formation moving in sync with the drums. There were banners flying at the front and end of the column. Rather than ride at the front or rear, Dracos had chosen to ride in the center. Unwilling to take credit for all of their accomplishments, Dracos had chosen to be surrounded by the men with whom he had fought.

Watching from the battlement over the gate, Lord Drake had initially been worried that he had lost his son when he discovered the young man wasn't at the front of the column. Upon seeing that his son was riding in the center of the procession, he smiled with pride. Turning to his wife, he said, "Our son has grown up."

"Yes, he has," she said.

Patting the hand that she had on his arm, he said, "I'll train him to run the citadel and then I think I'll retire."

"That would be nice," she said looking over at her husband with fondness. She wondered what he would do with all of that free time. The thought of what he would do with all of that free time quickly turned to worry.

As if sensing her thoughts, he said, "I think that I'd like to have a nice vineyard. I can see myself puttering around with the grapevines."

"Of course you would, dear," she said thinking that a leisurely retirement was about as likely to happen as snow in the middle of summer.

"Let's go down and welcome him home," Lord Drake said.

-------

The table was set with a spread that would have done a king proud. Lord Drake watched as Fred tasted everything before fixing a plate for Sid. It was hard to take offense since Sid hadn't even arrived yet. Gesturing to the food, he asked, "Would you mind fixing me a plate as well?"

On the verge of taking offense, Fred thought about how his actions must have looked to their host. Realizing that he had been a little rude in his actions, Fred nodded his head. He answered, "Not at all. Is there anything you don't like to eat?"

"I'll take a little of everything," Lord Drake answered. All of the fruits and vegetables were from his garden, but his wife had done most of the work.

Fred handed across the plate he had fixed for Sid and started filling another plate. Looking up after he was almost done, he said, "I'll fix one for Dracos."

The offer surprised Lord Drake. He watched Fred work for a minute before he said, "You have been a neutral observer throughout this war. You've seen many examples of men who have served under Sid. I'm sure that some were good and some were not quite so good. I'd like you opinion about something. What do you think of my son?"

"It is not my place to say," Fred said attempting to duck the question. He knew that Sid would have a long discussion about Draco's performance as a leader.

Lord Drake laughed and shook his head. Leaning on the table, he said, "I saw that my son didn't lead the procession back to the city. I was rather surprised and pleased to see that. He's gotten a little quieter and more thoughtful since he left. I have to assume that he saw battle up close and it must have been a rough one."

"That he did and it was terrible pitched battle, sir," Fred said. After the enemy had been defeated, he had walked the battlefield with Sid and had seen just how fierce the fighting had been. The bodies were thickest in the area where Dracos had been fighting. Finishing with the plate for Dracos, he started on the plate for Sid. He said, "While it may not be my place to comment on your son, I will say that all of the men who fought with him said that he comported himself well. They were quite vocal in their praise of his leadership."

Lord Drake sat back in his chair feeling pleased with what Fred had said. He asked, "Would you say that he earned the respect of his men?"

"Yes," Fred answered. He looked up and saw that Sid and Dracos had entered the garden. He set the plate for Sid down on the table and started one for himself.

Sid sat down beside Fred and, addressing Lord Drake, said, "The men have camped outside the citadel in the area you assigned them. Don't worry, I plan on leaving tomorrow."

It was nice to have a visitor who didn't overstay his welcome, but it was even better when three thousand visitors didn't overstay their welcome. Looking very much like a Lord in charge of his domain, Lord Drake smiled and said, "That is good news. Of course, we just have a little business to conduct before you go."

"That's true," Sid said taking a bite out of a radish. The tart flavor of the radish helped sharpen his wits and focus his attention on Lord Drake.

"I swore an alliance with you when you were here last time. Now that the war is over, my oath has been satisfied. That leaves us with a dilemma," Drake said looking at Sid fully prepared to start negotiations.

Taking another bite of the radish, Sid thought about what Drake had said. He hadn't conquered the citadel so he couldn't rightfully lay claim to it. The fact was that he didn't want to lay claim to it, but to have a hole in the middle of the territory that he supposedly ruled as king wasn't exactly a good situation. Nodding his head, he said, "What is the nature of this dilemma?"

"You control all of the territory around my holding," Lord Drake said while drawing a circle on the surface of the table. He stabbed a finger in the center of the circle to represent his citadel.

"That's true," Sid said.

"That's a very unstable situation from my perspective," Lord Drake said watching Sid's eyes for a clue as to his thoughts.

"I agree. It is a very unstable situation from my perspective as well," Sid said. They were ready to address the real issue at hand. The next few minutes would be critical.

"They've started calling you King Sid," Lord Drake said.

Dracos said, "Considering the territory that he controls, he is a king."

Looking at his son with more than a little irritation, Lord Drake said, "I stand corrected. You are a king."

"Thank you," Sid said knowing that Lord Drake had reached the same conclusion, but had intended to follow a less direct route to admitting it.

"So the situation as I see it is that you have a kingdom in which there is a lone Lord who is master of his own citadel right in the middle of it," Lord Drake lifted a mug of watered wine to take a sip. He watched Sid over the lip of the mug.

Sid bent over his plate and wrapped a chunk of cheese inside a slice of ham. He took a bite and studied Lord Drake trying to decide how best to approach his preferred solution. Chewing slowly, he thought about what he knew of Lord Drake. The man had ridden with his uncle and that meant a lot. That was to be taken with a grain of salt since men changed and he had no idea of the relationship between him and his uncle. After swallowing, he said, "If you were that king, what would you do about that situation?"

"I'd tell the Lord to swear allegiance to me or prepare for war," Lord Drake answered in a matter of fact voice. He managed to hide his surprise that Sid had turned the discussion around on him.

Nodding his head, Sid asked, "Why not propose a treaty?"

"Because the individual who is king will one day die and leave their kingdom to an heir. Sons inherit citadels. While the fathers may agree, the odds are good that the sons won't," Lord Drake answered shooting a warning glance at Dracos to keep him from speaking out.

"That's true," Sid said. He took another bite of his ham and cheese while considering his next question. Dracos was leaning forward to hear the conversation as if his life depended on what was said next. In a way, it did. Sid asked, "If I was that Lord, I would want to know what the king offers to make me willing to swear allegiance to him."

"That is a very reasonable thing for a Lord to want to know."

"Yes, I think so too. I suppose the Lord would want assurances that his economic situation would improve over time. That he has a say about what goes on inside his holding. I would also assume that the Lord would want to know what it would cost him in terms of obligations to the king and taxes he has to pay," Sid said rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"You know, I think that is exactly what a Lord would want," Lord Drake said pleased that the negotiations were progressing better than expected. He took a piece of cheese from his plate and nibbled on it for a second before popping it into his mouth. After swallowing, he said, "If I was that king, I think I would provide a constitution that assures the Lord reasonable rights over his holding while providing some limits. I would give those assurances in the form of trade policies within the constitution that enabled the Lord to export goods to and from his holding."

Dracos had listened to the discussion wondering why each man was taking the position of the other. He was about to ask when Fred gestured to him to listen and learn. Deciding that was good advice, he sat back and watched his father.

Nodding his head, Sid said, "Yes. I imagine that the Lord would want to make sure that the taxes collected were fair and that he paid the same taxes as other lords in the kingdom."

"I'm sure that the Lord would want that. As King, I would want to make sure that the taxes collected were fair. I suppose a king would think that one conch out of fifteen is fair."

Sid shook his head and countered, "I'm sure that the Lord might want a different arrangement for taxes than that."

"You don't say," Lord Drake said with a frown.

"I do say. I'd say that the Lord would prefer to pay one conch out of twenty to the king and, as part of his obligations to the king, to spend one conch out of twenty on improving the royal roads, warehouses, and waterworks within his holding," Sid said stating the same deal that he had made with Hunter and Sneak.

Drake didn't say a word while considering the offer. He took a bite out of a cucumber and chewed it thoughtfully. It was a higher rate of taxation than he would have accepted, but the provision that he spend the extra taxes within his own holding was attractive. He leaned forward and asked, "Why would the lord be willing to pay two conches out of twenty collected as taxes?"

"I imagine that better roads would make it easier to get his goods to more distant markets. That having dams would control floods and allow irrigation of land that would normally lie fallow. I think that having a supply of food in storage would allow the Lord to protect his people and trade against bad harvests," Sid answered. He picked up a pickled pepper and took a bite out of it.

Lord Drake thought Sid had a good point. Of course, there was still the matter of the constitution and what rights would be provided to each party under it. He said, "I'm sure that the king would want to make sure that he retained a certain amount of power over the lords within his kingdom."

"I bet the king would want that. I'm sure that the lords would want to assure that the king couldn't become a despot," Sid said immediately offering the counterpoint.

"So who would write this constitution?"

"I imagine that the lords would like to have a say in it," Sid answered.

"I imagine that the king would like to have a say in it, as well," Lord Drake said with a smile.

"I suppose that the lords and the king would have representatives meet to work out a draft before they met to finalize it," Sid said looking across the table at Lord Drake. It was as far as he was willing to go in order to come to an accommodation with the man.

It was as fair of a deal as Lord Drake could have imagined being given. He nodded his head and said, "Such a king and a lord would find that the situation we were discussing would resolve itself with the Lord swearing allegiance to the King."

Sid smiled and said, "I think so too."

Lord Drake looked over at his son and said, "Dracos, would you mind repeating the terms of the agreement just so that we are all clear on the matter?"

After taking a hasty swallow of his watered wine, Dracos tried to reconstruct the discussion and organize it into a more meaningful summary. He cleared his throat and answered, "That a constitution is to be written; with a first draft composed by representatives of the Lords and the King before being finalized by the Lords and the King. This constitution is to lay out policies that improve trade, limit the powers of the Lords and the King, and establishes the taxes to be paid by Lords. The limits of those powers have yet to be determined. The King's portion of the taxes collected is to be at the rate of two conches per twenty conches collected with half given to the king and half spent to improve royal roads, warehouses, and waterworks within the holding of the Lord."

Looking at the two men, Dracos asked, "Did I get that right?"

"That is what I understood," Sid said nodding at the succinct summary.

"Yes, that is my understanding," Lord Drake said pleased by the entire discussion. While there were still many questions to be resolved, the framework by which he could voice his concerns was in place. He added, "I'll swear allegiance under those conditions."

"I'll give my oath to meet those conditions," Sid said. He raised his mug of watered wine to Lord Drake.

The older man raised his mug and said, "It was a real pleasure negotiating with you."

"I must say that I enjoyed it as well," Sid said.

-------

Fred and Dracos went off for a short walk around the garden while Sid and Lord Drake discussed other matters. Once they were out of earshot, Fred asked, "Do you know why they took each other's positions?"

"I think so," Dracos answered a little uncertainly. He had watched his father negotiate with other men before, but he had never observed that kind of conversation. Normally his father went into a negotiation knowing exactly what he wanted out of it and argued endlessly to get his way.

"Good, then explain it to me," Fred said. He had watched the entire discussion fascinated by the ebb and flow. He couldn't believe it when the points the men were raising ran counter to their own interests.

"I thought you knew why they were doing that," Dracos said staring at Fred.

"I had no clue. I just didn't think they would have appreciated it if we had interrupted their discussion," Fred said.

"Oh," Dracos said. He started to walk along the path with a little more deliberation in his step.

"So why did they do it that way?"

Dracos answered, "By taking the other person's side, they forced themselves to examine what the other side was losing with each compromise. They didn't have to argue whether something was too extreme. No one would say that if they were in a given position that they'd be willing to give up something important to them.

"No King in his right mind would give up his power. For my father to suggest that Sid would want to give up his power would have been stupid. No Lord would give up his power. For Sid to suggest that my father would want to do that would have been just as stupid. Each man knew that, so demanding that the other would accept something that was totally unacceptable would have been immediately obvious."

Nodding his head, Fred said, "That was pretty clever."

"I think so too," Dracos said. It amazed him that he had learned another lesson as a result of Sid. It brought home the realization that he still had much to learn.

"It would only work if there is mutual respect and a real desire to reach an agreement," Fred said.

"You're right."

-------

It was nearly sun set when Gregor and Sid took a walk around the perimeter of the camp checking on the guards. They had gotten nearly a quarter of the way around the perimeter when Gregor asked, "Did he go for it?"

"Yes, he did. The discussion went exactly as we planned," Sid answered in a soft voice.

"That's good," Gregor said feeling relieved. He looked over at Sid and smiled at the generosity that he had demonstrated. He said, "You could have forced him to any terms you offered. Even though your army is disbanding, you still have enough men to overwhelm him twenty to one."

"Would you have helped me take over his citadel?" Sid asked.

"Yes. I understand the need to have a kingdom that is whole."

"Would you have remained my friend if I had asked you to help me take over this citadel?" Sid asked.

"Oh, I would have ridden to River's Crossing with you, but after that I would have never wanted to see you again," Gregor said. He would have helped Sid consolidate his kingdom if asked, but he would not have liked doing so despite understanding the need. He had hoped that Sid wouldn't have to ask him for his help.

"I would not have asked you to help me. That would have been a battle that I needed to fight by myself. One should not ask an ally to fight an ally," Sid said.

"I know you would not have asked. And you are right," Gregor said pleased that Sid understood.

"I appreciate the help you gave me in ironing out a reasonable position to take," Sid said. For days while riding they had argued what would be a realistic arrangement to make with Lord Drake. Gregor had done all of the arguing that Lord Drake would have done until a compromise was reached.

Gregor walked along silently for a few minutes. He paused and turned to face Sid. In a quiet voice, he said, "Over the past two years, we have run into so many men who were treacherous bastards. The chance to deal with an honest and good man is a real relief. Lord Drake put his son under your command. That speaks of a lot of trust on his part."

"I know what you mean about dealing with treacherous men. While I don't believe in torture, I had contemplated it for Holland," Sid said.

Gregor frowned and said, "I do not envy you the kingdom you've created. It is filled with too many men who know no honor. They shall try to take away everything you have built. They will use stealth, wile, or violence to get what they want. You shall have to take care not to let them acquire too much power."

Sid paused and looked around at the men in camp. The majority of them were Gregor's men of the Horse Clan. He said, "I've been putting men that I feel are trustworthy into positions of power."

"They will protect your interests, but you will have to protect them as well. You will have to install some mechanism by which they can call upon you for help without alerting even their closest advisor," Gregor said returning to stand beside Sid.

"What do you mean?"

"You need a secondary pathway of communication other than dispatches. You need to place trusted men in mundane positions such that they can be reached in an emergency and directed to raise an alarm," Gregor said.

Sid thought about how his uncle had left Barson's father, Chuck, with the disk that would allow him to access his inheritance. It dawned on him that his uncle had trusted the man with everything he owned and yet Chuck did not live within the walls of his citadel. There had to be a reason for it. Nodding his head, he said, "I see what you mean. I shall have to work out the details, but I shall take your advice."

"Good."

"I value your advice," Sid said clapping Gregor on the back.

Gregor grinned and said, "It is easy to give advice. It is far harder to find someone who will follow it. I am happy to have found someone who will follow my advice."

"We will leave here tomorrow," Sid said resuming his walk around the camp.

Gregor remained behind for a minute while thinking about leaving. In an easy lope, Gregor caught up to Sid and said, "It will be good to return home."



-------

Chapter 32


Alice watched Sid constantly throughout the day. Seldom was she more than a dozen paces away from him. Even when he went to the latrine, Alice was nearby hoping to catch a glimpse of his package. The delay between being rescued and returning to Crossroads was driving her crazy. She was ready to reward Sid for her rescue now. The noises that emerged from her tent at night announced to the world what was on her mind.

For Sid, the situation wasn't much better. Alice was not only watching from a distance, she was posing, teasing, and generally acting in as seductive a manner as possible. Her behavior was having an effect on him. It seemed to him that he was walking around with an erection half of the day.

The dance between the two was impossible to ignore. Gregor, Fred, and Derek often commented on it while sitting around camp. Most of it was good natured teasing, but there were times when Alice's behavior was irritating. No one was more irritated than Fred.

Alice sat across the fire from Sid with her skirt hiked up over her knees. She was spreading and closing her legs giving Sid frequent flashes up her skirt. Sid wasn't the only one who could see her promised land. Shaking his head, Fred asked, "When are you going to put her out of her misery?"

Sid shook his head and looked across the fire just in time to get a good eyeful. He sighed and said, "Come with me Alice. We need to talk."

Alice stood like a shot and was beside Sid moving faster than any of the men thought possible. Sid rose, took her by the arm, and led her away from the camp. Once they were sufficiently far from people so that they would not be overheard, Sid said, "Alice, you know the rules. We can't have sex here on Chaos."

"I can't help it. I want you so bad that it hurts," Alice said in a whine. She was obsessed with the idea that a King would be fathering a child with her. She rubbed her body against him and said, "Come on. Just one little friendly romp in bed won't hurt."

Shaking his head, Sid said, "I've thought about that, believe me. This afternoon a nasty little thought came to mind and I can't shake it."

Alice cooed and rubbed her hand over the bulge in his pants. She said, "I love nasty little thoughts."

"I wondered what would happen if you got pregnant on Chaos. I wondered what would happen when you went through the portal. The ideas that came to mind weren't pretty; losing the baby, being blocked from leaving, birth defect, and maybe even death for the mother," Sid said. Initially, her actions kept derailing his thoughts. With each possible outcome, Alice lost more and more color to her face. Her actions went from being aggressively sexy to standing stock still.

"You don't think that," she said horrified by the images that his words had invoked. She pulled her hand away from his crotch as if it would burn her.

"There is always a reason why the rules exist," Sid replied. Shrugging his shoulder, he said, "A hero companion from Earth must be sterile. It makes me wonder why that is the case."

"I can't wait!" Alice cried.

"You must wait or you might never be able to have a child," Sid said knowing that his words would hurt.

Frustrated beyond belief, Alice broke down in tears. Her need for sex was physical and constant. Sid held her in his arms to comfort her. Being held only increased her physical desire, but her emotional desire had taken a major hit. The desire to have a baby sired by a King was pushing her to have sex while the thought of the negative consequences pulled her desire back. It was torture.

Sid let her cry out her frustration. Once she had calmed down, he said, "Let's return to the fire."

"I want to be alone," Alice said. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her sinuses were stuffed. Distressed by the circumstances, she didn't feel like a Damsel who had been rescued.

"I'll take you to your tent," Sid said acting on his words even as he said them.

Returning to the fire, Sid looked around at the faces of the men there. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "I think it'll be better from now on."

-------

The closer that Sid got to the citadel they had nearly destroyed earlier in the war, the larger his forces had become. All of Gregor's people were riding with them. Troops that had been scattered over the area had rejoined him. The size of the army had swollen to over six thousand. At each village, town, and city, Sid released men from the army to help repopulate the area.

The released men had some advantages in terms of money and supplies that would enable them to get a good start on a new life. Those who stopped in the little villages that had been destroyed planned to open shops. The typical economy of rural communities had been disrupted by slavery. With the absence of slavery, the rural lifestyle had to return. That meant new stores, market places, stables, and inns. Sid made sure that one or two men who had been seriously wounded could remain behind as Kings Representatives.

Not everyone who remained behind wanted to be merchants. In fact, most of them wanted return to farming. Outside of soldiering, the only life they understood was farming. They found a certain comfort in preparing the soil, planting crops, nursing the plants through the growing season, and then harvesting the fruits of all their hard work. As the years passed, they raised their families with just as much care they showed their crops.

Watching a man take over an abandoned farm was always a pleasure for Sid. He'd watch the man stand on the edge of the property as a dreamy expression came over his face while envisioning what it would become under his guidance. With a suddenness that was always surprising, the man would stride forward to begin work on making his dream come true.

Gregor sat astride his horse watching one of the men take over an estate. Turning to Sid, he said, "That's an amazing sight."

"Yes, it is," Sid said. Glancing over at a very subdued Alice, he said, "That's one of the reasons I undertook this campaign. There is nothing more rewarding than watching a free man take charge of his life."

Gregor nodded and said, "I know my kin are anxious to return home to the plains. They miss their homes."

"Homes?" Sid asked. He knew that most of the men and women with Gregor were nomads.

"Well, they miss their life on the plains. There is nothing like riding full out under the open skies. They miss the sound of thunder created when their horses race across the plains in the cool air of early morning. There is nothing like the sight of a hundred horses running. It makes the heart beat and the spirit soar," Gregor said remembering scenes from his youth. With a sigh, he said, "I miss it more than most of them. It has been too long since I've been home."

"What do you expect to find when you return home?" Sid asked.

"I went on my journey to gain experiences that would enable me to become a Clan Chief. This war will probably catapult me to the top of the leadership among our clan. The men and women with me have seen me repay dishonor with honorable actions. I've lead a larger force than any living man in the Clan except for the Clan Leader," Gregor answered.

"You'll be an important man," Sid said with approval.

"Very important," Gregor said. He tilted his head towards Derek and said, "Derek will be an important man as well. He'll be my left hand."

Sid nodded his head; understanding the significance of the reference to the left hand. It was the hand that held the reigns in battle and allowed the rider to use their sword. Among the nomads, the left hand was the hand that freed them to act. Sid said, "That is good."

"I can think of no man better," Gregor said.

-------

Fred carried the bowls with camp noodles over to where Sid and Alice sat next to the fire. Without saying a word, he handed a bowl to Alice. Alice leaned over to give Sid a flash of her breasts. When he didn't react, she made a gesture intended to draw his attention to them. Fred snorted and turned away.

Fred went over to Sid and, while handing over his bowl, said, "Here is your dinner."

"Thank you, Fred," Sid said with a smile.

'"Why don't you like me?" Alice asked Fred irritated at his behavior.

Surprised by the accusation, Fred turned to look at her. It wasn't that he didn't like her, it was just that she didn't behave with the regal flair that he had come to expect from the Damsels Sid had rescued. Sure, the other Damsels were obsessed about sex with Sid, but they expressed it with subtle teasing and flirting. Alice was too coarse and explicit. Raising an eyebrow, he decided that it was time to level with her. He said, "Let me get my meal and I will tell you."

"Okay," Alice said sullenly.

"He is my sworn man," Sid said looking at Alice when Fred had left to get another bowl of noodles.

Alice believed that she knew what that meant. She sighed and said, "I know, but he hates me."

Sid shook his head and decided to stay out of it. Personally, he desired her exotic appearance, but her behavior was still over the top. He concentrated on eating his noodles while waiting for Fred to return. If things got ugly between Fred and Alice he was going to have to step in and break them up.

Fred returned to the fire carrying his bowl of noodles. Looking around the fire, he was pleased to see that it was still only the three of them. Holding the bowl in one hand, he looked over at Alice and said, "I know all about you."

"What do you mean?" Alice asked.

"I have known four Damsels before meeting you. The first was a wonderful woman by the name of Sandra Lawyer of Cassandra. She was a beautiful woman full of grace and charm. Despite my attempts to save her, she died at the hands of our owner. He tied her to a frame and exposed her to the elements without food or water," Fred said. Although his voice held little trace of emotion, the man's posture screamed out that he was in pain remembering those events.

At the horrified look on Alice's face, he said, "She told me about Damsels in Distress and Heroes from Earth. When Sid came; he helped me bury her and promised to repay the slavers for what they had done. Such beauty and grace should never have to suffer as she suffered. I swore my service to Sid because I knew that he was a true Hero and that his word was good."

"I met my next Damsel when Sid freed her from slavery. Derek and Laura Author of Cassandra were held on the same farm. Laura is a great lady. She reminded me of Sandra from the moment I met her. She's always thinking about other people. She even gives the guys hints about which of the ladies in camp might be interested in them. The men adore her for her generosity of spirit.

"Mary of Cassandra came to Sid after a major battle. She was afraid that her ordeal was not over and that he would send her away. Of course, Sid would never turn away a person in need. She's a charming woman full of wit and life. It is a pleasure to be around her. She teases Sid, but stays on the right side of the line that separates teasing from vulgarity. With little more than a smile and wink she conveys her desire," Fred said.

He looked at Alice and said, "The next Damsel in distress was held captive in a basement. Mandy Cook was naked and hadn't had food or water for two days. Chained to the wall, she would have died all alone in the dark if Sid hadn't found her. I saw her after Sid cleaned her up and it nearly broke my heart.

"I never heard Mandy complain about any of the hardships she had suffered. Even though she had physical problems, she didn't say a word about having to ride most of a day on the back of a horse. She ate rough meals around camp and thanked us for them. Sid had to send her away because we were headed into danger. She went without argument. She was a cultured lady at all times."

Fred looked down at his bowl of noodles and said, "I thought that all women from Cassandra were ladies until I met you. You are crude."

Alice was livid at being described as crude. She watched him eat his noodles while trying to come up with a response. Finally, she said, "I'm not crude!"

Looking up at her, Fred pursed his lips while he considered his response. He said, "I've seen your cunt as you've flashed it at Sid. Your tits are on display half the time as if you aren't even wearing a shirt. You rub yourself and you grab him. Those are the actions of a crude woman."

"The only reason you've seen that is because you're leering at me all of the time," Alice retorted.

Fred was about to say something, but Sid put a hand on his arm. In a soft voice, Sid said, "You've said enough."

"I think not, but I'll hold my tongue," Fred answered. He resumed eating his noodles.

Alice turned on Sid and asked, "Do you agree with him?"

"What I think has little to do with it. He has a right to his opinion," Sid answered. He wondered what would happen if he were to anger the Damsel before getting her to Crossroads. The rules didn't give any clue about what he was to do if she ran off.

"I want your opinion," Alice said.

"I think that you have been hurt as a result of your slavery and need time to heal. I refuse to judge you until you've had a chance to recover from being forced to survive for months as a prostitute," Sid said quietly.

Alice stared as Sid for a minute. He quietly ate his noodles without looking at her. Getting up, she went into her tent taking her bowl of noodles with her. Sid watched her go with sad eyes. Shaking his head, he said, "You were rough on her."

"I think she is a disgrace to Damsels," Fred said without looking away from his noodles.

"Give her a few more days," Sid said.

"She's been free for weeks," Fred countered feeling uncomfortable about disagreeing with Sid.

Sid looked up from his noodles and said, "She was raped daily for months. Can you blame her for wanting to take control of her sexuality by choosing and pursuing her next sexual partner? Maybe it is over the line, but don't hold it against her."

Fred shook his head deciding that he would have to think about it. Half of his irritation with Alice was the fact that he hadn't been with a woman in ages. The flashes of flesh were driving him crazy, particularly since they weren't aimed at him. Rather than respond with words, he grunted.

-------

The sight of the citadel as they rounded a bend in the road was a welcome relief. It would be nice to sleep indoors on a real bed for a change. Sid thought about the six thousand men riding behind him. Of course, only a few of them would be able to find a bed. He wondered how he could give them the same relief from hard living that he was hoping to experience. He sighed and said, "I guess I'll be sleeping in a tent."

"You can't do that. You're the King," Fred said looking over at Sid.

Sid looked at Fred for a few seconds. From the set of Fred's jaw, he knew that the man was ready to argue all day that Sid should stay in a room in the Citadel. Rather than argue, he said, "I know how to settle this little difference of opinion."

"How?"

Without answering, Sid rode back several dozen rows of marching men. He paused and pointed to five men. In a kindly voice, he asked, "Would you five men come up to the front with me for a few minutes?"

"Sure," one of the men answered. They double stepped up to the front where Fred was waiting for Sid.

Once they were there, Sid climbed off his horse and, leading it by the reins, walked beside them. In a conversational tone of voice, he said, "Fred and I were having a discussion. We'd like your opinion on the matter."

One of the men said, "We're just soldiers. Our opinion doesn't count."

"Sure it does. You are a free man, not a slave," Sid said.

"Okay."

"Fred and I were trying to decide if anyone in this army should automatically get a room in the citadel when we get there considering that everyone else will have to sleep in a tent. What do you think?" Sid asked.

Fred rolled his eyes at hearing the question. When Sid wasn't looking he nodded his head to let the men know that they were supposed to answer yes. One of the men asked, "Are you wanting us to suggest who should get to stay in a room?"

"No, I just want to know if there is anyone that should automatically get a room. You know, someone so important that everyone just assumes that he is going to stay in a room," Sid answered.

"Well, I can't think of anyone like that," one of the men said. He looked to the other men beside him and asked, "Can you?"

Seeing that Sid wasn't looking at him, Fred pointed at Sid trying to tell them to say that Sid deserved a room. The men didn't pick up the hint and answered, "No."

Fred rolled his eyes and pointed at Sid. Of course, this time Sid noticed the gesture and said, "Don't go pointing your fingers at me, Fred."

"I wasn't doing anything," Fred said in a very unconvincing manner.

One of them realized what Fred had been trying to tell them. He scratched his cheek and said, "Can I ask a question, King Sid?"

"Sure," Sid answered.

"If we were to camp right next to my house, would you expect me to sleep in my tent or would you let me sleep in my bed?" the man asked.

"I'd insist that you enjoy a little time in your own home," Sid answered.

"Well, that citadel is yours. Why should you sleep in a tent when you have a bed inside your own property?" the man asked.

Sid sputtered while Fred laughed. Looking over at Sid, Fred said, "I'd say that you should sleep in a bed tonight, King Sid. After all, you own the place."

One of the other men realized that Sid had been planning on sleeping in a tent. Not entirely surprised by the idea, he said, "Besides, you're the King. Part of being a King is living and looking the part. Kings don't sleep in a tent unless they are traveling."

"That's right," another man piped up.

Shaking his head, Sid knew when it was time to surrender. Throwing his hands up into the air, he said, "You win, Fred."

"I told you," Fred said feeling a little smug. He was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed.

"Since I'm King and you're not, I guess that means you'll be sleeping in a tent tonight," Sid said with a smile.

All of the smugness Fred was feeling fled. He frowned at the suggestion he was going to be sleeping in a tent. The men beside Sid broke out in laughter at the look on Fred's face. Shaking his head, he said, "Me and my big mouth."

One of the men said, "I suppose that a King should have his sworn man beside him."

"And his closest advisors," another man said gesturing in the direction of Gregor and Derek.

"I don't think it would be right to leave the King's companion sleeping in a tent," the third man said looking over at where Alice was riding her horse.

-------

Sid, Fred, and Alice stayed in the same hotel that Sid and Fred had stayed in after surrounding the slaver headquarters at the end of the assault on the citadel. In the time between visits, the hotel had been improved considerably. New mattresses had been brought in, all of the wood in the place had been freshly polished, and the dining area had high quality ceramic plates rather than the cheaper pewter plates.

Sid was pleased by the difference that having paid workers made in the overall quality of service. Slavery did not induce pride in work done well, only resentment at having to work. Slaves did the basic work, but they wouldn't take care of the details that made the difference between a job well done and a job merely completed. Money and recognition motivated through pride while a whip motivated through pain.

The hotel was not the only part of the citadel that had improved since being liberated. The streets, although they weren't up to Earth standards, were cleaner. Almost all of the buildings had new signs reflecting the change in ownership that had followed the former slaves taking over businesses from the slave owners. Even the less desirable areas within the citadel had been improved as people restarting their lives had thrown their full energies into making a better life for them and their families.

The most obvious difference that Sid saw was in the level of activity within the citadel. Wagons loaded with trade goods filled the streets. The market square was packed with stalls and people milling around them. Businesses were booming and people scurried from one store to another to take care of important matters. Children were busy running errands for their parents or for the businessman with whom they were apprenticed.

After standing at the window of his room watching the activity outside in the street for five minutes, Sid glanced over at Fred and said, "Fred, it does my heart good to see the changes that liberating this citadel have brought to the people we freed."

"I know what you mean. I saw people smiling while they were working. It has been a long time since I've seen that."



-------

Chapter 33


Sid entered the former slaver headquarters surprised at the activity that surrounded the place. Rather than tearing it down because it was a symbol of oppression, it had been converted into the town council building. The sign over the entrance proclaimed both roles by displaying a Crown positioned over a Citadel. The upper floor from which the slaver general had watched Sid's forces defeat the slaver army had been converted to a royal office. The remaining floors were dedicated to managing the citadel.

Following behind Albert, Sid and Fred were led to a large office where other key leaders of his army were waiting for him. Entering the room, Sid smiled at the sight of Olaf and Barson seated at the conference table. Shaking hands with the men, he said, "It does my heart good to see you again."

"We came as soon as we heard that you were coming here," Barson said. The clothes he wore were of much better quality than he had worn in the past. He had started another cloth manufacturing company and was advertising the result by wearing clothes made from it.

"Connor is on his way here. Sebeson will be joining us in an hour," Sid said.

"Sebeson? Isn't that Masterson's cousin?" Barson asked.

"He's Masterson's older brother," Sid answered with a grin. The younger men reacted as expected by nudging each other with their elbows. Sid was sure that Masterson was going to have some pointed barbs thrown his way in the near future.

"Speaking of Masterson, he's on his way to the citadel north of us," Barson said.

"What? Did Colonel Lee win already?" Sid asked.

Connor walked into the room at that moment and said, "Colonel Lee never required our help. Everything we heard about his campaign was a lie. Masterson sent me a message that before he arrived at Colonel Lee's camp that he was expecting to find a hundred starving men. Instead he found ten thousand men in a well disciplined and well supplied camp."

Nodding his head, Sid said, "He was using disinformation to lure the enemy into battles they could not win. I should have known that. I was impressed by him when we met at the Jones Citadel."

"Two weeks ago he brought thirty thousand men to face ten thousand of the slaver army. They destroyed the slavers and are now in control of the whole area," Connor said.

"So the war is over," Sid said.

"Yes, the war is over. There are three new kings in Chaos: King Sid, King Lee, and King Chambers. I hope the three of you get along well because I'd hate to see what would happen if you ever went to war with each other," Connor said shaking his head. All three of the men had started with almost nothing and built armies that destroyed the most powerful military force ever assembled on Chaos.

"Masterson would love it," Barson said.

The men took seats around the table with Sid seated at the head of the table. Looking over at Albert, Sid asked, "Who else are we expecting?"

"Gregor agreed to come. Michelson and Jackson are coming once they are finished with the weekly council meeting. They considered postponing it until after meeting with you, but there was a murder a couple of weeks ago. The man responsible was caught yesterday and, by custom, the council had to meet to schedule the trial," Albert answered.

"I understand. When will the trial be scheduled?"

"Michelson wanted to schedule it for tomorrow so that you could sit in judgment," Albert answered.

Shaking his head, Sid said, "Michelson will serve as judge."

"You are the owner of the citadel, it is your job," Barson said looking at Sid.

"I'm appointing Michelson as Lord of the citadel. It becomes his responsibility to serve as judge for crimes within his holding. My job is to hear the appeal if there is one," Sid said.

"Michelson will happy to hear that his appointment is permanent," Connor said nodding his head. Glancing over at Olaf, Albert, and Barson, he noticed the young men didn't look overjoyed to hear the Michelson was becoming a Lord.

"Don't worry. He's not going to be all that happy," Sid said while winking at the young men. He had noticed that they were feeling a little jealous and had a plan for dealing with that jealousy before it became a problem.

"Why not?"

"I'm giving Jackson his own city. He'll be a Lord as well. That means that Michelson is losing his right hand man," Sid answered. He looked at the three young men and added, "Counting citadels, cities, and major towns, I have more than sixty Lordships to hand out."

There were sixty Lordships available and approximately eighty two of the original people who left the Jones Citadel were still alive. Barson sat back in his chair doing the math. It sounded to him like Sid was about to give him a Lordship. Smiling at his friend, he asked, "Olaf, do you feel a slightly twisted idea coming to you?"

The big man nodded his head coming to the same conclusion. The best holding to have was a citadel, but that was primarily a military holding. The value of a municipal holding was closely associated with the population of the municipality, cities were better than towns. Holdings encompassing villages, usually more than one village, were considered rural holdings. Rural holdings comprised more area and fewer people than a municipal holding, but were more difficult to manage due to geography. Considering how much the trio of young men had contributed to the war effort, he was pretty sure that he'd receive a city holding. He said, "You know, I think there is one just itching to get out. There's some idea about becoming a Lord that is rattling around in my head, just trying to get out. With my thick head, though, it is going to take a while it to get through."

Albert looked at his two friends and then said, "I don't know what kind of idea Olaf has percolating in his mind, but I have one or two. I can see myself sitting around my manor drinking watered wine and watching wenches."

Sid laughed and said, "I think you young men are getting ahead of yourselves."

Barson looked at Sid in shock. He asked, "What do you mean?"

"I have bigger plans for you three," Sid answered watching their eyes get wider while wondering what Sid was suggesting.

"What kind of plans?" Albert asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He was rather enthralled with the idea of being a Lord.

"As Fred keeps reminding me, I'm a King now," Sid answered looking from one young man to the other. He had their full attention. He said, "I've got to establish a kingdom. That means I need to have a capital city, maintain an army, and rule over more than sixty holdings. That's a lot of work."

"That is a lot of work," Connor said nodding his head. It was work for younger men than him. He was feeling his age and wanted to retire.

"Part of what I need to do is put men that I can trust in positions of power. The young men and women who left with me from the original Jones citadel are loyal and trustworthy. A few of them told me that they planned to return home and settle down at the end of this campaign. Some of the women have married and left to start lives of their own. I have plenty of Holdings to give to those men and women who want them," Sid said.

Albert listened to what Sid was saying with an impatient ear. He wanted Sid to get to the point and let him know where his holding was going to be located. He fidgeted in his seat. Connor leaned over and whispered, "I'm sure he'll get to the point sometime."

"I wish he'd get to the point soon," Albert replied in a voice that was a little louder than a whisper. With the end of the war, he was not as busy as he preferred. All that he had ahead of him was to shift production from wartime goods to peacetime goods. That wasn't much of a challenge.

"The problem is that holdings are a local presence of power. I need men and women to serve the kingdom as a whole," Sid said ignoring the interruption. He knew that of the three, Albert was the most driven to work. He didn't like sitting around doing nothing, despite his previous suggestion to the contrary.

Olaf raised an eyebrow while stroking his chin. He started to see where Sid was headed. Despite his big dumb appearance and his act about how clueless he was, Olaf was actually the brightest of the three. Barson was the most social of them and Albert was the hardest working. Leaning forward in his chair, he said, "You need ministers."

"That's right," Sid said. "Specifically, I need a Minister of the Treasury, a Minister of Agriculture, and a Minister of the Interior. Each of those will come with a small, but profitable, holding."

Olaf and Barson looked at each other. Unsure if he liked the idea of being a civil servant, Barson said, "That is a little different than what I was expecting."

Albert was overjoyed at the prospect of the work involved. Without even thinking through what Sid had said, he asked, "Which Ministries are you giving us?"

Olaf answered, "I'm sure that King Sid wants you to be the Minister of Agriculture."

Everyone around the table laughed. Sid said, "Barson has a real talent for trade, so I thought that I would have him as Minister of the Treasury. His responsibilities would include establishing trade policies, collecting taxes, and establishing budgets."

"I would like that," Barson said. He broke out in a smile when he thought about how his father would react to the news.

"Your holding will be Weavertown," Sid said. It was the logical place since Barson had basically run most of his operation out of that town throughout the war.

"Nice," Barson said. He had thought long and hard about setting up a house in that area. He'd even picked out the land on which he wanted to build it.

"I figured that Olaf would be the Minister of Agriculture. Anyone who can find so many overly productive chickens like Olaf managed is best suited for the job," Sid said provoking a laugh while Olaf shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands in the air with a sheepish look on his face. In a more serious voice, Sid said, "In a way, I think that is going to be the hardest job of them all. Most of our agriculture is just enough to feed everyone. I want us to be an exporter of food to the rest of Chaos. That means developing an infrastructure that promotes higher yields, better land management, and storage."

"Yes, I can see that," Olaf said nodding his head. His mind was overflowing with directions to explore.

"I figure that you'd like the Appleton as your holding," Sid said looking over at Olaf to see his reaction.

"Appleton? All they do there is grow apples," Olaf said voicing his initial reaction to the holding. It was probably the most boring town in all of Chaos. All they did there was raise apples and make Applejack. That was a pretty profitable activity. Thinking about it for a second, he said, "I see your point. Appleton exports almost all of its apples in one form or another. It is also a pretty low maintenance holding."

"Exactly," Sid said. Turning to Albert, he said, "Ministry of the Interior is going to be a critical position. We need an infrastructure of good roads that will allow trade year round, dams to control water so that Olaf can improve productivity of our farms, and forts that allow us to protect our borders. I also want to set aside land to remain undeveloped. While it isn't all that important now, it will be important in the future to have vast areas of undeveloped land."

"That's a rather significant challenge," Albert said thinking about the amount of work that would entail. A good percentage of the effort would require engineering expertise.

"One of the first things would be to build my castle," Sid said offering Albert the one thing that was sure to excite the young man.

"A castle?" Albert echoed sitting up straight. That sounded exactly like the kind of engineering challenge he had always wanted. He had studied forts and citadels in terms of undermining defenses. Planning a castle that could withstand a significant siege would be a challenge.

"Yes, a castle. It will have to be large enough to hold all of the functions of government, a moderate military, and the influx of visitors that a seat of power attracts," Sid said.

"Where is this castle to be located?" Albert asked.

"Good question and one you'll have to answer. I want it close to the center of the kingdom," Sid answered with a smile.

"That's going to be a lot of work," Albert said, his mind already addressing the problem.

Sid watched Albert for a minute and then asked, "Aren't you curious about your holding?"

Surprised, Albert answered, "Oh. I forgot about that."

"Smithville," Sid said.

"That's great," Albert said genuinely pleased. That was the town that he basically grew from nothing while putting together the factories to produce the siege engines for Sid's army. It had a variety of manufacturing businesses.

Nodding his head, Sid said, "I figure the three of you will have to work together for many years to come. I expect to hear you tell me about all of these slightly twisted ideas you manage to have."

"Excellent," Olaf said.

"There are some questions that I need answered from new Minister of the Treasury," Sid said.

"What?" Barson asked.

"How much money do we have?"

"We have almost three hundred thousand Conches," Barson answered with a grin. He'd been very effective in getting value for Sid's money.

Nodding his head, the figure was about what Sid had expected. He said, "That's about what I've figured. I've been giving every man a Conch as separation pay."

"A Conch?" Barson asked incredulously. He had wondered why Sid had been requesting so much money from him. It was hard to believe that he was giving the men that much money. That was a year's pay for most men.

Sid looked over at Barson and said, "Yes. I've been giving the men a Conch. You've got to understand what they gave up by joining with us. When we liberated them, they had the choice of cutting out a homestead from the farm on which they had been held as slaves or joining my army. They lost a lot of time and money fighting for us. A conch puts them on an even footing with those who stayed behind."

Barson hadn't thought about the personal price that some of the freed slaves had to pay for joining up with Sid. The men and women who had joined them weren't mercenaries or adventurers. They had been normal people whose lives had been turned upside down as a result of slavery. He said, "You're right."

"We have about twenty thousand more men who will be leaving our service. Can you work out how much money it will cost to build a castle, several fortifications along the border, and convert some of our temporary forts into something a little more permanent?"

"It will take some time," Barson said. He looked over at Albert and said, "I'll need some figures from you on construction costs."

"Okay," Albert answered. He pulled a small sheet of paper from a pocket and a crude pencil. He wrote down a note to himself and then looked up to find that Sid was watching him. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "I know paper is very expensive, but it is cheaper than forgetting something important."

"You'll never hear me complain about that. In fact, I was wondering if we were in a position to manufacture larger quantities of paper," Sid said.

"Paper will always be expensive, but we can make more than we do now," Albert said.

"I want my Kingdom to run on paper," Sid said.

"What does that mean?" Olaf asked looking puzzled at Sid.

"I want official communications to be done on paper so that a record can be kept of who said what and when. I want accounts kept on paper so that we can see where our money is coming from and how it is getting spent," Sid answered. Most Lords trusted their memories rather than paper. For a Lord to have to answer to a King was rare; the King should be able to demand a true accounting and memories were easy to change or fabricate. Paper records were an absolute necessity.

Barson nodded his head whiling thinking about it. He said, "Not very many people know how to read and write. We'll have to hire scribes for that purpose."

"Not only will we have to hire them, we'll have to train people to be scribes," Sid said. He shook his head thinking of opportunities lost. He said, "It is a shame that I hadn't thought about it earlier. We had thousands of men sitting around in camps at night who could have spent a little time learning to read and write."

Nodding his head, Connor said, "Gerald taught me to read and write."

Sid nodded his head and said, "My uncle was good about helping others better themselves. All they had to do was show him that they were willing to work and he would help."

"Yes, your uncle was a good man," Connor said with a nod of his head. It was a sad reminder of what Chaos had lost with the death of Gerald Jones.

Michelson and Jackson entered the room talking with each other. Michelson didn't look very happy about what they were discussing. With a curt shake of his head, he told Jackson, "We'll just have to take that up with Sid."

"What will you have to take up with me?"

Michelson took a seat at the table while answering, "We had a rather gruesome murder here a couple of weeks back. A woman's body was found in one of the parks. There were hundreds of cuts over her entire body. She bled to death, but not before suffering for a long time. Someone had tortured her to death."

"Ugly," Sid said with a growl. He watched Jackson sit down to the right of Michelson in an obvious show that he was Michelson's right-hand man.

"Yes. One of the city guards found out who did it and we arrested the man yesterday. Everyone is clamoring for a very public trial since the woman was a very well known figure here. I wanted to schedule the trial for tomorrow so that you wouldn't be delayed, but the council rejected that plan. They want it in three days so that more people can attend," Michelson said.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sid said, "I don't see that as a problem."

"You'll have to stay here longer than you had planned," Michelson said. It dawned on him that Sid was planning on staying in the citadel for good. He smiled and said, "You're going to make this citadel the site of your royal court!"

"No," Sid replied shaking his head. His eyes twinkled as he looked over at Michelson and said, "I'm going to appoint you as Lord of this citadel."

"Don't tell me that," Michelson said with a groan. He had never thought that he would hate being a Lord, but running that citadel was a constant headache. The city council argued about every little detail.

"It won't be that bad. Once you become permanent Lord of the citadel, your authority becomes much greater than it is now," Sid said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that as Lord you get to set the rules for the governing of the citadel. If you desire to keep the city council, they will answer to you rather than the other way around. They'll have to come to you with proposals and you'll have to decide which ones you'll accept or reject. You won't have to be involved in generating the proposals," Sid answered.

"You mean that I won't be stuck in that stuffy council room four days a week arguing about whether the paving stones should be placed length wise or width wise down the street?"

"That's right. You could even delegate that role to a trusted advisor," Sid answered with a smile. He knew that as soon as a committee was formed every dog had to spend enough time growling to assure an honored position within the pack. For a man of action, all that time spent posturing would be torture.

Michelson grinned at Jackson. Jackson groaned and said, "Just what I need."

"Sorry, you won't be available for that," Sid said.

"Why not?" Jackson asked with a worried expression.

"There's a city that stands one week's march to the west that needs a Lord. I want you to be that Lord. You'll control all of the territory that is within three day's walk from the center of town," Sid said.

"That's huge," Jackson said.



-------

Chapter 34


The ugly man stepped out from the dark surroundings of the woods to stand beside Sid. In a soft voice, the man said, "You wanted to see me."

"That's right, Badger," Sid replied. He knew that Badger was not a man to make small talk so it was necessary for him to continue the conversation. He asked, "What are your plans now that the war is over?"

Badger shrugged his shoulders and said, "I'll probably become a hunter. Why?"

"I had a slightly different idea in mind for you," Sid answered.

"What?"

"I need a scout," Sid answered. He looked over at Badger and said, "I need a special kind of scout. I need someone who will travel around my kingdom watching for any problems that might develop."

While thinking over what Sid had suggested, Badger ran his hand over his face. His fingers traced out the scars that contributed to his ugly appearance. He grunted and said, "You mean you need a spy."

"If you prefer that term, yes. There is an element of watching and reporting to the job. What I really need is someone who I trust to set up an unofficial conduit of information between the Lords and myself," Sid answered.

"What does that mean?" Badger asked out of confusion.

"Look, we just conquered a territory filled with individuals who I wouldn't trust with a rock, must less the future of my kingdom. I've put men in positions of power that I do trust, but they are surrounded by sharks. When one of them gets into trouble, they have to have someone to talk with that can get the message back to me. It has to be someone that I can trust and that the lord can trust. Most importantly, they have to be men that you trust. They need to occupy positions away from the lord, where they won't be watched," Sid said.

"I see what you mean except for the part about them having positions where they won't be watched," Badger said.

"Suppose there is a farmer of a medium sized farm next to a city. He's trustworthy, but because he's a farmer nobody really watches what he does. The lord knows that if he needs to talk to the man all he has to do is go riding for a day and stop by the farm for a little water or to find out how the crops are growing. While he is there, he can slip a message to the man without anyone being the wiser," Sid explained.

"Smart. I can see how that would work," Badger said thinking about it. The job that Sid was giving him was big. It was also important; far more important than he felt he deserved. He asked, "Why me?"

"I trust you," Sid said looking the man in the eye.

Badger turned away to hide the tears that welled up in his eyes. Most people never saw beyond the ugliness of his face. The idea that a King saw more than that and trusted him with the welfare of his kingdom was more than he knew how to accept. He rubbed his eyes to wipe away the trace of wetness that had appeared. He sniffed and said, "I'll serve you until the day I die."

Sid handed him a small bag and said, "There are five hundred conches in there. Deposit them in a bank and draw money as you need it. When you need more, let Barson know and he'll get you as much as you need."

"Five hundred conches?" Badger said shocked at the amount of money that he held in his hand. When Sid had said that he trusted him, the man hadn't been lying. That was enough money to disappear forever in Chaos.

"You'll need every bit of it and more," Sid answered.

"Yes, sir," Badger said.

"Good. Now I want you to find honest trustworthy men. Don't get their loyalty through money because men like that can be bought to serve the other side. I want them loyal to me first, you second, and the lord third," Sid said.

"You want them loyal to me above the lord?"

"Your life depends on their loyalty. Make sure that your trust is well placed," Sid answered.

"Yes, sir," Badger said standing up straighter.

"This is a big kingdom. You'll need to hire men to help you cover that much territory," Sid said.

"I know a few men who might be good at this sort of thing," Badger said. Being ugly did have some benefits; the character of the men he encountered was demonstrated by the way they treated him. He would always be viewed with suspicion, but the men who laughed or made fun of his appearance had major character flaws. He preferred the company of those who treated him with just the right touch of suspicion while remaining respectful long enough to know him.

"Good enough. I'll let you get to work," Sid said with a short nod of his head.

"Thank you," Badger said swearing to himself that he'd give his life for Sid if it was necessary to protect the man.

"You're welcome."

-------

The hour between dinner and sunset was usually a quiet time in camp. The bright light of midday had faded to a softer illumination. The sky turned red as the sun made its way below the horizon. The birds usually gave forth their last announcements of their territories before making their way to their nests.

When marching, it was the time of day that every man and woman in the army anticipated. Folks took advantage of the fading light to get their campsite ready for the night. People sat in front of their tents patiently mending whatever equipment might have been damaged during the day. It was also the time of day when people could visit with others and talk of things important to them.

Bored, Alice sat around the campfire watching the men and women still with Sid's army interact with each other. The women flirted and the men responded with grand gestures intended to impress. It was the dance of life in action; a dance in which she wasn't participating. She knew that Sid was interested in her, but it seemed that he was nowhere near as driven to mate as she was. Just the thought of him between her legs was enough to get her juices running.

With the quiet time in the camp, she had time to consider why her feelings for Sid were so strong. It was more than the fact that he was good looking. He was a Hero from Earth who had become a King in Chaos! Talking aloud to no one, she said, "Is there any wonder why I'm crazy about him?"

She thought about her life in Chaos before Sid had come to her rescue. Life as a slave in a whorehouse had not been pleasant. Men would come into her room and basically have their way with her. It seemed that every so often one of them would choose not to wear a sheath and her private parts would burn for three days.

She had been miserable there. The men who came to her bed were typically wealthy men; older, fatter, and less attractive men than any whom she would have chosen on her own. As disgusting as they were physically, it was their attitude towards her that was truly ugly. They treated her like meat with absolutely no regard for her pleasure.

Day after day and night after night, Alice had lain in bed dreaming of her rescue. Whenever one of those fat bastards had mounted her, she dreamed of what it would be like when her Hero took her. In her mind, the fat greasy hand that mauled her bruised tits was contrasted with how the Hero would lovingly caress her breasts. Her fixation on how great it would be was all that kept her alive.

She realized that her feelings were based on that fixation rather than on a real respect for Sid. Thinking about it, Alice realized that Fred's comments about her behavior had been accurate. She hadn't been dancing the dance of life, but had been stomping around on the dance floor like some sort of enraged gorilla.

It was not an easy realization to accept about herself. Feeling a thousand years old, she stared at the fire and said, "I'm a Damsel from Cassandra. I came here to be rescued and to bear a child. I'm not acting like a lady. I'm not acting like a mother-to-be. Fred was right. I'm a disgrace to all of the Damsels."

Thinking about Fred made her wonder where Sid had gone. She looked around the camp to see if she could spot him. When she glanced in the direction of the kitchen, she noticed one of the women there watching someone with a sad expression of longing on her face. Following her look, Alice spotted Fred watching as Sid talked to a group of men gathered in front of the tent. She looked back at the women and found that she was still watching Fred.

She stared at the woman for a full minute before making up her mind. Rising from her seat, she walked over to where the woman was standing. It took the woman almost a minute to realize that Alice was standing beside her. Embarrassed at having been caught, the woman turned to Alice and said, "I'm sorry. I was just wool gathering there for a minute."

"No problem," Alice replied with a smile. She looked over in the direction of Fred and said, "He doesn't know that you care for him, does he?"

"No, he doesn't," the woman answered believing her love was a hopeless cause. No matter what she did to attract his attention, Fred never noticed. She would set aside something special for Fred only to see him deliver it to Sid.

Alice examined the woman with a little more attention to details. She wasn't exactly a beautiful woman. Too many years in the sun had given her skin that was dark tan with a leathery texture. The damage of a hard life outdoors was most obvious on her face. There were the diamond-shaped wrinkles around the eyes that spoke of too much sun. Despite that, she had a friendly looking face with laugh lines. Her dark hair was streaked with a few strands of gray hair that made her look older than her age. She wasn't a great beauty, but she remained a pretty woman with a shapely body.

"I think that all men are born blind," Alice said with a sigh.

"They are men. What can you do?" the woman answered with a chuckle.

"I'll talk to Fred when he returns to our campfire," Alice said.

The woman looked worried and asked, "What will you tell him?"

"I'll tell him to come over here because I don't want to be bothered by his dirty looks all evening," Alice said with a laugh. She added, "You better be over here to keep him company. I'm sure that he'll say all kinds of unflattering things about me."

"I'll box his ears if he says something nasty about you," the woman said indignant.

Shaking her head, Alice said, "Don't. I deserve a lot of the bad things that he'll say about me. Too much of it will be true."

"Still, it is not right for a man to be talking bad about a woman."

-------

Sid and Fred returned from their visits with men around the camp. Sid sat down next to Alice and said, "Sorry about taking so long. A couple of men will be staying behind tomorrow. They found places where they want to settle down."

"That's nice," Alice said. She turned and looked at Fred. In a sharp voice, she said, "I'm tired of having you glare at me all evening. Go over to the mess tent and stay there for a while."

"What did I do?" Fred asked surprised by the harsh tone of voice. He looked over at Sid seeking an explanation from the man.

"I don't know," Sid answered looking over at Alice.

"Leave! Now!" Alice said. She pointed in the direction of the mess tent.

Fred snorted and stomped away from the campfire. Concerned by her rather abrupt treatment of Fred, Sid asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Alice answered watching Fred approach the mess tent. The woman she had talked with met him there with a cup of tea. She looked into the fire and said, "I'd like to apologize to you for my behavior the past few weeks. I haven't been myself."

"I thank you for your apology, but I think you owe Fred one," Sid said staring at her. He hadn't liked how she had treated him.

Alice said, "He'll probably thank me tomorrow."

"What do you mean?"

Alice gestured towards the mess tent and said, "There's a woman his age over there that was waiting to comfort him. I imagine that about thirty minutes after dark, there's going to be a lot of comforting going on."

"What?" Sid asked turning to look over at the mess tent. It was getting dark and difficult to make out what was happening inside the tent. He could just barely make out a woman talking with Fred. He asked, "Who is she?"

"Fred will introduce you to her in the morning. Don't worry about him," Alice said.

-------

It was a rather subdued group that rode at the head of the marching troops. There were close to four thousand men marching or riding behind them. Three thousand of them were Gregor's clan. A thousand were men and women who had joined Sid's army. Wanting to break the silence, Gregor said, "Your army is evaporating."

"Yes, it is," Sid said turning back in his saddle to look at the people following him. With the footmen marching three to a row, the column stretched out close to a sixth of a mile. The horsemen behind them were riding in a more flexible column that stretched close to half a mile behind. There were two dozen horsemen and scouts ahead making sure that the road was clear.

"You don't seem too disappointed by that," Gregor said.

"I'm not. I hope that by the time we reach the original Jones Citadel that I'll have a dozen men with me," Sid said.

"At the rate you're losing them, I'd say you have a pretty good chance of that happening," Derek said.

"There are still more men stationed at River's Crossing," Sid said. He had close to five hundred men there to protect the three Damsels. That didn't include the wounded men who were recovering there.

Looking over at Gregor, Derek said, "If you don't mind, I think I'll take in a little fishing while I'm at River's Crossing."

"You and three thousand of our kin," Gregor said gesturing towards the back of the column.

Fred yawned and rubbed his face trying to wake up. It was a struggle to stay awake that morning. He found that kept trying to nod off despite the fact that he was on horseback.

Sid looked over at him and asked, "Why are you so quiet this morning?"

"No reason," the man answered sounding a little grumpy. He glanced over at Alice and shook his head trying to figure out if she had really arranged for Millie to meet him at the mess hall. That is what Millie had said, but it didn't sound like the Alice he knew.

Grinning at the haggard appearance of the unflappable Fred, Alice said, "Sounds to me like you didn't get much sleep last night."

Fred grunted but didn't say a word. He had talked with Millie late into the night. Too many cups of tea had made it very difficult to fall asleep when he returned to his tent. It seemed that about the time he was nearly asleep that his bladder demanded to be relieved. He wandered back to his tent in time to hear Sid waking.

Smiling, Sid asked, "Did you have problems sleeping last night?"

"I drank too much tea," Fred admitted.

"Sid says that I owe you an apology for my treatment of you last night. I'm sorry," Alice said smiling at Fred.

"Apology accepted," Fred said.

"That's great," Alice said.

The group rode along the road for five minutes without talking. Alice glanced over at Fred and saw that he had nodded off on his horse. She laughed and turned to Sid. She said, "Looks like Fred fell asleep."

"It does look that way to me," Sid said thinking it was the first time that he'd seen Fred fall asleep in the saddle. At least the horse was smart enough to keep moving with the rest of the horses. He hoped that Fred didn't fall out of the saddle and break his neck.

Alice spotted some flowers by the side of the road. She rode over and climbed off her horse. Sid went over to her and asked, "What are you doing?"

She answered, "Fred might want to deliver some flowers to his lady friend. I thought I'd pick some for him to take to her."

"Oh, that's nice," Sid said. He looked over at Fred for a second thinking that the man had no idea of the forces that were at play in his life. The poor guy was sound asleep and the love smith was busy forging another link in the chain. Alice would have him married by the time he woke.

Alice gathered together a small bouquet of wild flowers. She looked around for a minute before finding a long grass stem. She used the stem to tie the flowers into a bouquet. Satisfied with her effort, she held up the bouquet and examined it. She said, "That should make her happy."

"What about him?" Sid asked with a grin.

"When she gets happy, he'll get happy," Alice answered with a curt nod of her head.

"Is that the way it works?" Sid asked.

Looking up at him, she batted her eyelashes and answered, "That's the way it has worked since men and women began."

"Ah," Sid said.

Alice was quiet for a moment and then added, "At least that's how it was on Cassandra a long time ago. We lost that in the last war. The women here don't realize how lucky they are to have men who pay attention to them."

"Everyone takes some things about their life for granted and never realize what they had until they lose it," Sid said thinking about how frustrated she must feel.

Alice nodded her head and handed the flowers to Sid. Grinning over at him, she said, "Let's catch up to the others. I'm sure that Fred will wake up soon and you should give those flowers to him."

"Me?" Sid asked holding the flowers. He took them assuming that he would hold them until she had mounted her horse.

"Of course, I can't be seen contributing to the downfall of a lady," Alice said with a laugh.

Sid said, "Somehow I don't think you are contributing to the downfall of a lady so much as that of a man."

"It is just a matter of perspective," Alice said with a wink. She climbed onto the horse and together they rode up to where Gregor and Derek were discussing different ways of being lazy. Fred was still sleeping; his head rolling with each step of the horse.

Their arrival startled the horse a little and it did a little half step. Fred woke up with a snort and looked around confused for a moment. He couldn't believe that he had fallen asleep on his horse. His hopes that no one had noticed were dashed when Alice asked, "Did you have a nice nap?"

"Yes," he answered with a frown.

Alice nudged Sid and gestured to the flowers with her nose. Shaking his head, Sid held out the flowers and said, "Alice thought you should give your lady friend these."

"Huh?" Fred said looking at the small bouquet of flowers in confusion. Trying to look innocent, he asked, "What lady friend?"

"I would think it would be the lady friend you were talking to half of the night," Alice said.

"Oh, that lady friend," Fred said feeling a little uncomfortable about having his social life the subject of discussion.

"That lady friend," Alice said with a knowing nod of her head.

"I'll see her tonight."

"The flowers will be wilted by then. Ride on back to the wagons and give them to her," Alice said.

"I can't do that," Fred protested. He looked at Alice in horror and said, "Every woman in camp will be talking about me."

"That's the whole reason for giving her flowers," Alice said.

"Huh?" Fred asked.

Shaking his head, Sid said, "Don't fight it, Fred. Just deliver the flowers."



-------

Chapter 35


The approach to River's Crossing had changed since Sid had last visited it. The road had been widened to support more traffic. Many of the trees had been removed giving the guards at the gate a better view of all who approached. The area next to the gate where traders were to wait until admitted had turned into a small town with fixed buildings.

The gate itself had been expanded and strengthened. Now it was a structure that could probably resist anything except an assault by a huge army. Rather than being at the water's edge, it extended out a good three dozen paces from the river bank giving enough room for a small party of mounted men to organize before riding out the gates.

Sid stopped his horse to take in the sights. Looking at all of the changes, Sid said, "Wow. When Barson said that River's Crossing had grown, I didn't realize what he meant."

Fred looked around at the crowd of people camped out in the fields across from the gate. There were at least a hundred campsites with groups as large as ten people at some of them. He commented, "There sure are a lot of people here."

"I guess it has become a major trading place," Sid said looking at all of the wagons parked along the road. He could see that they were loaded with supplies and trade goods.

"The troops are backing up behind us," Gregor said gesturing over his shoulder.

Sid nudged his horse and rode up to the gates. The gates were already open and the man stationed above the gates said, "Hello King Sid. We've got space for your men all prepared. Danny will lead them to where they can set up their tents."

"Thanks," Sid said. He was about to turn back when Albert stepped out of the gate. Looking at Albert, he said, "I thought I left you back at the citadel."

"You did, but your group is moving so slow that I beat you here," Albert said. He noticed that Sid kept looking over at the crowd in the field across from the gate. He said, "The news that you were coming preceded you. Most of the folks across the road are locals wanting to sell you some of the goods they've grown. At least, that is what they tell me. I'd say that the chance to see their king brought most of them."

"I wondered. Is it always this packed around here?" Sid asked.

"No. You are going to have to get used to this now that you are king. The locals will come out just to see you," Albert said gesturing to the crowd to people that had formed. They kept their distance, but the number of people was rather impressive.

"I guess I can live with that."

"You won't have much choice in the matter," Albert said with a smile.

"So what are you doing here?" Sid asked.

"I'm thinking this location would be the right place for your castle," Albert said. Seeing the look on Sid's face, he said, "Over in that direction is a nice little hill. We cleared it a long time ago for the troops to camp. It was nice and defensible. I am thinking of building the castle there. There are already the beginnings of a hospital here and we would expand on that. We could turn the land between this gate and the hill into a park so that this area isn't ruined."

"Why here?" Sid asked. He was rather fond of River's Crossing and didn't want to see it destroyed.

"It is the closest thing to a holding you have left," Albert said. On seeing the expression on Sid's face, he explained, "You've been giving out holdings all over the place. You have to have a holding for yourself to provide for your personal income. This place is one of the few areas that does not have a Lord."

"I already have a holding," Sid said.

"The Jones Citadel is too far from the center of the area that you control to serve your needs. Your castle needs to be on your holding," Albert explained.

"Who makes these rules?" Sid asked.

"Tradition," Albert answered with a laugh.

"I guess being king means that I'm ruled by tradition," Sid said.

"That's a fact," Albert said. He looked across the bridge and said, "There's another fact of which you should be aware."

"What?"

"There are three women over there that are very anxious to see you again," Albert said with a grin.

"Oh," Sid said. He looked in the direction that Albert had indicated and wondered how he would manage being in the presence of four Damsels from Cassandra at one time.

Not wanting to be around when Sid greeted the Damsels, Fred said, "I wonder if there are any fish left in the river."

Derek frowned at the idea of not having a chance to fish. He said, "I don't care. I'll sit there with a pole in the water regardless. As far as I'm concerned, it is just an excuse to be lazy."

Gregor laughed and said, "Don't get too comfortable. We'll be riding out tomorrow."

"So soon?" Derek asked.

"I want to get home," Gregor answered. Once they got away from the foot soldiers, they'd make much better time. From River's Crossing it was just six weeks ride before they made it to Rider country.

-------

The three Damsels waiting for Sid were standing outside of the recreation building. It was the closest building to the gate. Sid looked over at them and then at Alice. She didn't look that happy to see what she viewed as competition. He said, "You should be happy to see them. Now that we are together, we can ride to the Jones Citadel and leave here."

"I suppose," Alice said. Her brow wrinkled while she thought about his comment.

Sid pulled his horse off to the side and dismounted. Alice quickly joined him and accepted his help in getting off the horse. He held out an arm for her to take while they walked to where the three Damsels were waiting. She took the arm feeling like it gave her a small measure of ownership through the right of possession.

The three Damsels did not bother to wait for Sid to approach them. They ran half of the distance before slowing down enough to make the meeting appear more like a social encounter. Laura Author stepped forward and welcomed Sid with a kiss. As a shiver ran through her body, she said, "It is good to see you return, my King."

"It is good to see you, Laura Author of Cassandra," Sid replied wondering if he could take another kiss like that without busting his pants. Gesturing to Alice, he said, "Laura, this is Alice of Cassandra. Alice, this is Laura Author of Cassandra."

On learning the name of the other woman, Alice was impressed. Laura Author was a well known writer in Cassandra. She said, "I know of Laura Author. I have read her book. She writes books of a historical nature."

Although her books were set back in the times before the Great War devastated their world, Laura thought calling them books of a historical nature was being very generous. She laughed and said, "I fear that my stories are of a more erotic nature than historic."

"Ah, that explains why I climaxed several times while reading them," Alice said with normal Cassandra female candor about anything sexual.

Sid groaned at the thought of the expectations that a writer of erotic fiction would have concerning the performance of a man in bed. Seeing the expression on his face, Laura asked, "What's the matter?"

"I was just thinking that you would expect to have hour long orgasms when we reach Crossroads," Sid answered. The odor of four excited women filled the air.

Mary stepped forward and welcomed Sid with a kiss. She took a little more time to make sure that her hands had an adequate chance to explore the hard muscles of his back. Her legs were weak by the time she broke off the kiss and said, "It is good to see you Sid."

"Thank you, Mary. It is always a pleasure to see you again," Sid said. He wished that he knew a way to rearrange his hardening cock without it being obvious what he was doing.

Before Sid had a chance to introduce Mary to Alice, Mary said, "Hello, Alice. I'm Mary of Cassandra."

Nodding her head to acknowledge the other woman, Alice thought about the significance that Mary did not have an occupation as a second name. It meant that she had not begun her career. She said, "I take it you are a student at the university, too."

"Yes. I'm studying Literature in the hopes of becoming a teacher," Mary said. In order for a woman who was not yet successful in her career to be eligible to become a Damsel, she had to be an honors student. Mary had the highest standing among her class and held the office of Class President. Looking at the other woman, she asked, "What are you studying?"

"Civil Engineering," Alice answered.

"That is a difficult career," Mary said.

"Perhaps, but not as personally rewarding as teaching," Alice said.

Mandy Cook stepped forward nudging Mary out of the way. Like the others, she welcomed Sid with a very passionate kiss. The hard member that pressed against her almost brought her to an orgasm on the spot. Breathless, she said, "It is good to see that you've conquered your enemies and returned to us unharmed, King Sid."

"Thank you, Mandy," Sid said trying to remain upright after the scorching hot kiss he had just received. He said, "You are looking great."

"Thank you," Mandy said barely hearing a word. Her eyes were locked on the substantial bulge in Sid's pants. She wasn't the only one staring at it.

"Mandy Cook of Cassandra, this is Alice. Alice, this is Mandy Cook of Cassandra," Sid said making the introduction in the futile hope of distracting the attention of the ladies from his crotch.

"Spectacular, isn't it?" Mandy asked.

"Yes, it is," Alice said in agreement. She had to force herself from reaching over and feeling it.

"Ladies!"

Sid's protest managed to break Mandy out of her trance. Looking up at him, she asked, "Where's Fred?"

Sid looked around and spotted Fred. He gestured towards the bridge where Sid and Derek were headed with fishing poles in their hands. He said, "They are over there."

Laura asked, "Has Fred found a lady friend yet?"

"Yes," Alice answered. She looked around to see what had become of the rest of Sid's troops. Although the line of soldiers was long, the wagons with cook staff had passed while the introductions had been made. She said, "I'll introduce you to her later. She's a nice woman."

"That's good. Fred is a very special man. He deserves to have a nice woman in his life," Mandy said. Fred had been very attentive of her needs after her rescue. He had made sure that she had gotten enough to eat. He had helped find her clothes to wear.

"Yes, he does," Laura said. Turning to look at Alice, she asked, "Have they been intimate yet?"

Sid was not surprised by the rapid change of subject to sex by the women from Cassandra. He was surprised to learn that Alice knew exactly how many times Fred had visited his lady friend. She answered, "No. The man has visited her every night for the past three weeks and the closest they've come to having sex is to kiss. Can you imagine that?"

"Three weeks?" Mandy asked incredulously.

"I tell you, the only men who really know how to please a woman is an Earth Man," Mary said. She pointed to Sid's crotch and said, "He's still hard as a rock. Now that's a man. If it was allowed, I'm sure that he'd have us spread wide on a bed by now."

"Ladies!" Sid said trying to get their attention away from his crotch. "Will you ladies show Alice to her quarters? I fear that I must attend to the men."

Laura, barely bothering to look away from his crotch, said, "Of course, go take care of the men. We have all evening to talk."

"Thank you," Sid said beating a quick retreat away from the women. He paused at his horse and, speaking to the animal, said, "This is going to be a long trip."

The horse didn't answer although it did complain a little when Sid climbed into the saddle. He rode away to check on how the men were settling into camp. He met up with Gregor who was waiting for him at the base of the hill. Laughing, Gregor said, "I noticed that you had a nice little reception line waiting for you."

"Yes, I did," Sid replied.

"How are you going to handle them all?" Gregor asked with a grin. He was enjoying Sid's discomfort.

"I have no idea," Sid answered. Deciding that it was time to change the subject, Sid said, "I noticed Derek heading off to the river with a fishing pole in his hand."

"Yes. He's been looking forward to that for a week," Derek said.

"Aren't you going to join him?"

Gregor shook his head and answered, "No. I'm going to arrange for some supplies for our trip home."

"It is rough being a leader."

"You can say that again," Gregor said. He looked over at Sid and thought about the kinds of challenges ahead of him.

-------

Sid sat down by the fire alone for the first time since getting up that morning. The four Damsels had gone to bed, Fred was visiting his lady friend, and his troops were camped up the hill. It was nice to be alone for a change.

The fact of the matter was that Sid was tired. For two years he had been fighting and traveling across a tremendous area of Chaos without taking a break. Leading an army was a lot more work than it looked. While the other men might get a day off, he couldn't afford to do that.

Glancing in the direction of the cabin in which the ladies were staying, he chuckled a little. As much as they wanted to get to Crossroads, their desire had to take second place to his. The thought of being able to sleep late in the morning and not to have to make a decision was almost all consuming. He sighed and stared at the embers.

-------

Albert passed by Sid's cabin on his way to the recreation building in the early morning hoping to have a chance to get in a little fishing. Spotting the young man, Sid shouted, "Albert! You're just the man I needed to see."

"What do you need?" Albert said feeling a little disappointed that his appointment with a fishing rod was going to be delayed.

"I'm planning on leaving in two days. I need you to find as many men from my army as possible who are willing to stay here to help with the construction of the castle," Sid answered.

Albert didn't know what to say. He was still in the process of performing a survey to see if the hill would make a good fortification. It would be more than a year before he could use the kind of labor force that Sid was hoping that he'd hire.

Alice saved Albert from having to answer when she said, "Don't you know that there's a lot of work to do before you start building a structure of that size? He's not going to be ready to move one shovel full of dirt until after he's performed a detailed survey of the land, drawn up plans for the castle, and arranged for material to be delivered."

"So how long would that take?" Sid asked.

Alice looked in the direction of the hill. It was out of sight because of the thick woods that surrounded them. She pursed her lips while thinking about it. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, "I imagine that it will take three months to do a full survey of the area."

Nodding his head, Albert said, "That's about right."

"Once he's satisfied that the ground will support a massive structure like a castle, he'll have to design the building. That will take almost a year," Alice said.

"It won't take me that long. I've already got a pretty good draft of it," Albert said.

"I'm sure that you'll also be looking for an appropriate rock quarry while you are working on the plans," Alice said.

"True."

"You'll also have to make arrangements for all of the equipment necessary to level the earth, cut the rock, and build the scaffolds," Alice said.

"That'll take a lot of time," Albert said nodding his head. He added, "Don't forget that we'll have to cut lumber for the scaffolds, locate masons to shape and place the rocks, and set up supply lines to provide food while we're working. There aren't that many Masons, so they'll have to spend some time training apprentices."

Sid looked down at the ground and asked, "So when will you need people to work for you?"

"In about a year and a half," Albert answered.

"I didn't want to hear that," Sid said.

"I'm aware of that," Albert said. He didn't want to disappoint Sid, but things had to progress at the proper rate.

"Of course, there are the outbuildings that have to be built. You could hire some of the men to build some housing for the workers to live in while you are preparing to build the castle. Roads have to be built that can handle the weight of the rocks that will be brought in during construction. That could keep the men busy for almost a year," Alice suggested.

Sid looked at Alice in surprise. It took him a minute to recall that she was studying civil engineering. A small smile came over his face and then he said, "Alice, why don't you work with Albert to come up with a project plan that would allow him to hire as many people as possible as soon as possible?"

"Okay," Alice answered.

Albert looked in the direction of the river and sighed. It looked like there wasn't going to be any fishing in the near future. He said, "Let's go over to the mess area and talk there."

"Sure," Alice said.

When the two had left, Fred came out of the cabin and stretched. He had slept in late that morning. While still yawning, he said, "Good morning."

"You slept late," Sid said with a smile.

"I was out late last night," Fred said. He had caught a fish and taken it to his lady friend to cook. They had shared a nice meal away from prying eyes. After the meal, they had gone for a walk in the woods where they had sat down and talked for hours. It had been a rather innocent night.

Startling the man, Laura asked, "So did you give her what she needed?"

"Pardon?"

"Did you make mad passionate love to her for hours and hours?" Laura asked with a smile.

"Uh, isn't that rather personal?" Fred asked stuttering.

"Not really," Mandy said with a giggle. Her sudden appearance behind him caused Fred to jump a second time.

"We're just interested in your welfare. A big strong man like you needs to be with a woman from time to time," Mary said appearing from behind him. She put a hand on his arm and added, "An attractive woman needs to have a big strong man like you from time to time."

"Bringing Milly a fish to cook wasn't exactly the most romantic gesture in the world," Alice said with a grin.

"How did you know I took her a fish?" Fred asked looking around desperately.

"Come with us, we have something to show you," Laura said taking Fred by an arm. Alice took his other arm. Together the four women led him off to their cabin.

Sid had watched the exchange without knowing exactly what the women had planned for Fred, but his guess was right on the money. He chuckled and said, "It looks like Fred is about to get laid."



-------

Chapter 36


All except for two hundred men and women of his army were going to stay behind in Rivers Crossing. Alice and Albert had come up with a plan that would put everyone else to work clearing the land where the outer walls of the city would stand. The removed trees would be turned into lumber for use in constructing the castle. The cleared land would have all of the stumps removed and a deep trench dug so that the walls could be buried six feet to prevent tunneling under them during a siege.

Sid was pleased with their solution. It would put a lot of people to work immediately and meant that he could travel with a much lighter guard. Riding with two hundred men and women would allow them to travel faster. The sooner he reached the Jones Citadel, the sooner he could leave for Crossroads. Looking over at Laura, Mary, Mandy, and Alice, he knew he had four very pleasant reasons to reach Crossroads.

Although Gregor had intended to stay only a single day, he had ended up staying three days at the camp. It had taken him that long to acquire sufficient supplies so that his men could ride at a fast pace to their homes. He was a little irritated at Derek for spending most of that time fishing, but understood his desire to rest and relax.

Sid looked up at Gregor and said, "It has been a long and hard journey, but the company has made it a lot more pleasant."

"That it has," Gregor said nodding his head. He looked down at Sid from atop his horse and added, "If you have need of me, you know where to find me."

"And should you have need of me, you know where to find me," Sid said. He gestured to the area around him and said, "Send a man here and I will come."

"That is good to know, King Sid," Gregor said. He was finding it a lot harder to say goodbye than he had thought it would be. The time spent together had only reinforced the respect that he held for Sid. It was rare to find a man who actually listened to advice and incorporated it into his plans.

"Drop the king stuff. Our friendship is too strong to allow a little thing like a title stand between us. Besides, one of these days you're going to become the head horseman of the clan. I'd hate to have to call you Horsy Gregor," Sid said with a smile.

Gregor burst out laughing and said, "It is a deal. Take care of your backside. You are surrounded by too many men who know very little about honor."

"Take care of yourself, my friend. Even when surrounded by honorable men, there is always one snake in the grass waiting to strike," Sid said.

"True," Gregor replied. He turned to the mounted men and women behind him. He shouted, "Move out!"

"Take care," Sid said.

"I shall," Gregor said before turning his horse around and riding off to join his troops.

In a soft voice, Sid said, "I shall miss you my friend."

Derek looked over at Sid and said, "He shall miss you too."

"Take care of him," Sid said.

"Take care of yourself," Fred said with a smile. Over time, he and Derek had grown close. The two men shared a similar lifestyle in serving men who were on the verge of being very powerful.

"I shall. Take care of yourself. Many will want to use you to get at him," Derek said.

"I know. The same goes for you," Fred said.

Derek turned his horse and rode off to catch up with Gregor. He shouted, "It is good to be heading home!"

From behind Sid, four women said, "Yes, it is."

Sid cringed at the thought of being in bed with all four of them. He wondered if he would survive the experience. Turning to face them, he said, "We'll leave for the Jones Citadel tomorrow."

"Four weeks on the road," Laura said with a groan.

"Then a week at the Citadel," Mandy said repeating the next phase of the journey home.

"Then four days to the city where we'll leave," Alice said.

"That's almost six weeks," Mary said.

"I'll die of desire by then," Laura said. She had been waiting the longest to give Sid his reward for rescuing her and the wait had been wearing on her.

Sid shook his head and said, "I'm a dead man."

-------

Three weeks into the ride back to the Jones Citadel, Sid was ready to tear out his hair in frustration. The four women were competing for his attention and it was driving him crazy. Everything they did was a subtle reminder that they expected him to make grand glorious love to them at the journey's end. He was touched, teased, and watched almost constantly.

Needing a break, Sid rode to the back of the column of men. Fred rode with him. Once they were back there, Fred said, "I have no idea how you are managing to resist them."

"It is not easy," Sid said.

Smiling happily, Fred said, "I'm glad that I don't have that problem."

"You have a different problem," Sid replied with a grin. Fred had been a very happy man since the four ladies had arranged for Milly and Fred to spend an entire day in their cabin. The two had emerged much happier and relaxed.

Looking at Sid with a startled expression at hearing that he had a problem, Fred asked, "What problem?"

"Milly wants to get married," Sid said.

"And in what way is that a problem?" Fred asked with a smile. He had long before admitted that he wanted the same thing.

Sid laughed and shook his head. He asked, "So you'll be returning to Rivers Crossing with her when I leave to take the Damsels back home?"

"I was planning on coming with you," Fred said.

"That's not possible," Sid replied with a shake of his head.

"I'm your sworn man and that requires that I stay by your side," Fred said looking at Sid. He was visibly upset at the news that Sid was going to leave him behind.

"I would take you if I could, but it is impossible," Sid said trying to calm Fred down. He sighed and said, "I need you to take care of my business here while I'm gone."

"Why do you say it is impossible?"

"Their home is on the other side of a magic gate," Sid answered. He felt that Fred needed to know enough not to feel like he was being abandoned. He said, "Only a person with the right blood can move through it."

"A magic gate?" Fred asked looking at Sid incredulously.

"You can come with us to the gate, but you can't go any further," Sid said.

Fred rode beside Sid wondering if he was being told a story. He'd never heard of magic gates. Sandra Lawyer had not mentioned the existence of a magic gate to him. There was one way to confirm the story. He kicked his horse and rode up to the head of the column where the four Damsels were riding. Sid watched him go.

Fred waited until he was riding beside Laura to say, "Sid told me that I couldn't travel with you to Cassandra."

"That's right," Laura said.

"Why not?" Fred asked.

Laura looked around for a moment while considering how to answer. She decided that Fred already knew enough about them that he needed to know more. She said, "I need you to swear that you'll never tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

"I swear," Fred said without a moment of hesitation.

"There are four worlds: Chaos, Crossroads, Cassandra, and Earth."

Eyebrows raised, Fred asked, "Worlds?"

"Yes, worlds. You are from Chaos and know this world well. I, Mary, Mandy, and Alice are from Cassandra. Sid is from Earth. We travel between worlds using a portal."

"Is a portal a kind of magic gate?" Fred asked.

"Yes," Alice answered deciding that was just as accurate of a description as any. She said, "There are limits to our ability to use the portals. Damsels can not travel to Earth and Heroes can not travel to Cassandra. We can only meet here. Damsels can only return to Crossroads if they travel there with a Hero. From Crossroads, we can return to Cassandra."

Anticipating Fred's next question, Mandy said, "Damsels and Heroes can only be with each other on Crossroads."

"Be with each other? You are with each other now," Fred said.

Laura laughed and said, "She meant we can only make love to each other on Crossroads. That's why you are traveling with five very frustrated people."

"Oh, that explains a lot," Fred said blushing at the subject matter.

"Yes," Mandy said, "It explains a lot. I've been waiting for this my whole life."

"We all have," Laura said with a sigh.

-------

"Look at this dress. It's so dirty," Laura said. She brushed the front of her dress to remove an imaginary piece of dirt. It happened that the offending piece of dirt was on her breast and her attempt to remove it caused her nipple to swell and harden.

Sid groaned and leaned forward in his saddle in the slim hope of relieving some of the pressure created by his swelling cock. His hands shook as he held the reigns. He said, "Enough. I can't take it any more."

Mandy batted her eyes at him and, while running a hand over her chest, asked, "What ever do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Sid answered in pure anguish.

"There's a bank over there," Alice said pointing out the building. All they had to do was go inside and they would be in Crossroads within minutes.

Mary stuck a fingertip in her mouth and sucked on it suggestively for a second before removing it. In a little girl voice, she said, "So there is. That is a bank."

"You know that I have to finish my business here," Sid said with a groan. They were riding through one of the towns that had been ravaged by the slavers. It had been a little place before, but had now grown in size to where it actually supported a bank. The presence of the bank had taken Sid by surprise.

Alice leaned over and took Sid's hand. Taking one of his fingers, she slipped her mouth over it sending waves of desire through Sid. When he moaned, she eased off the finger and asked, "Do you really have to take care of all that nasty business now?"

Smiling, Laura asked, "There is some other nasty business you could be taking care of."

Sid groaned and pulled his hand away from Alice. He kicked his horse and took off down the road at a full gallop leaving four disappointed women behind. Frustrated, Mary screamed and said, "I can't wait another day!"

Alice fell forward on her saddle and whimpered in frustration. With tears coming to her eyes, she said, "I can't take it any more."

-------

Never had Sid ever been so happy in his life to see a city. From atop the hill he looked at the Jones Citadel that graced a nearby hill. He pointed to it and said, "There is the Jones Citadel."

"Finally," Alice said. She watched Sid ride to the back of the column.

A young couple rode up to the head of the column to look at the citadel. The young woman looked at the young man and said, "It will be good to see Mom and Dad again."

Laura turned to the young couple trying to remember their name. It took her a moment to recall that the young man was named Jacobson and that the young woman was named Fredricksdotter. She asked, "You are from here?"

"Yes. That is my home over there by the river," Jacobson answered pointing to a river off in the distance. His hand reached down to the coin purse at his side. He had enough money in it to set up a huge estate next to his father's place. He planned to retire and raise cattle on his own place.

"My father runs a shop inside the citadel," answered Fredricksdotter.

"So you were part of the original group that left from Jones Citadel with Sid?" Alice asked.

"Yes. The two of us are the only ones returning," Jacobson answered. He reached out and took Fredricksdotter by the hand.

"Why didn't you take a holding?" Mandy asked.

Fredricksdotter answered, "We aren't interested in being a Lord and a Lady."

"We've seen first hand the kind of treachery that exists in that area. I don't want to live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder while waiting for someone to stick a knife in my back," Jacobson said.

Fredricksdotter nodded her head in agreement. She wondered if the people who accepted Holdings from Sid had really known what they were getting. With a shiver, she said, "There are too many evil people left in Sid's kingdom."

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Alice said. She had watched Sid hand out Holdings to the men who had left the Jones Citadel with him without thinking about the fact that he was putting them into danger.

"King Sid has tried to make it safe for the others, but I don't know if it is safe enough," Jacobson said. He squeezed Fredricksdotter's hand and added, "We just want to settle down and raise a family."

"That's so sweet," Mandy said.

-------

Jacobson and Fredricksdotter rode at the head of the procession to the Citadel. The young couple was proud of their honored role. Sid followed behind them with Fred to his side. The four Damsels rode behind them and they were followed by the fifty soldiers remaining of Sid's army.

The people of the citadel came out to greet the returning party. They lined the road to watch their sons and daughters returning from war. A few of those present knew that they had lost a child in the war. They had come out to talk to the friends of their children to learn more about their deaths even though Sid had sent letters back to the Citadel describing the circumstances of their deaths. Many of the families stared at the procession shocked to discover that their son or daughter wasn't there. The fifty soldiers were strangers and they hadn't expected that.

The procession came to a halt at the gates of the Citadel. One of the men who had watched the approaching troop stepped forward. With a look of anguish on his face, he asked, "Where is my son?"

Sid looked at the man and said, "Lord Dankins is watching over his holding eight weeks ride from here."

"My son has a Holding?" the man asked looking at Sid. He stood up straighter. The idea that his son had become a Lord filled him with pride.

Nodding his head, Sid said, "All of those who left here with me were offered Holdings."

Another man stepped forward and asked, "Do you mean that my sons are both Lords?"

"Yes," Sid answered with a smile.

A huge cheer broke out among the men and women gathered. The sense of unease at discovering their child missing from the procession turned into a shared happiness. Men and women turned to each other and boasted of how their child had become a Lord or Lady.

Sid watched the sudden change in attitude with happiness. Turning to Fred, he said, "I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

Fred was silent. It warmed his heart to see the families rejoicing at the good fortune of their children. He turned and looked at Milly. For a moment, he wondered what would be the fate of their children. A quick glance at Sid reassured him. With Sid in his life, the chances were great that his children would have a good future.

The Damsels watched the crowd celebrating the good news. They could understand why Sid wanted to come here to let the people know about their sons and daughters, but that did little to ease their desire to return to Crossroads. Alice said, "Only a week and a half."

"Ten days."

"Eleven."

"Damn."

-------

Sid walked into the town council building looking worried. Although he hadn't noticed it originally, Bixby had been missing from the crowd that had greeted him on his return. Inside the town council building, Sid went to Bixby's residence and knocked on the door. Sorensdaughter, the old woman he had left to take care of his house in the citadel, answered the door. Seeing Sid, she frowned and said, "Come in. He's waiting for you."

"What's the matter? Why wasn't he at the gate?" Sid asked.

"Bixby has been ill for a year, but his time has just about come. He's dying," she answered.

"No one told me," Sid said feeling guilty at the time spent at the gate celebrating with the families of the men and women who had left with him. He'd have rushed to return if he had known that.

"He didn't want to disturb your campaign." Sorensdaughter said. She gestured for him to follow her to Bixby's room.

"Where are his children?" Sid asked following behind her.

"He doesn't have any. The Citadel has been his wife and his love," she answered. She paused and said, "It was a good thing you did when you left him in charge of the Citadel. He would have died a long time ago without it."

"I don't know what to say," Sid said.

Sorensdaughter smiled and put a hand on his arm. She said, "There is nothing that you have to say to me. I know that you care. Just talk to him and let him know that he served the Jones family well."

"That is easy enough to do," Sid said.

Bixby was a shadow of the man he had been. He had lost weight and lay in bed barely moving. His eyes tracked Sid when the young man entered the room, but it was too much work to move his head. In a weak voice, he said, "So you return a King."

"Yes, I return a King," Sid answered.

"I'm happy to hear that," Bixby said.

"It wouldn't have been possible without your help," Sid said. It was the truth. Bixby had helped him select the men and women who had followed him out of the Citadel and into war.

"It was the least that I could do," Bixby answered. He sighed and asked, "How many of them survived?"

"We lost forty in battle. You know about them. The rest are alive and well," Sid answered moving across the room. He took a seat beside the bed and said, "Those who lived have been given Holdings."

"That is good," Bixby said. He coughed. It was a weak cough and wouldn't serve to clear his lungs. It was enough to send waves of pain through his body. He sighed and said, "My time has come. Tell me what you plan for the Citadel."

"I plan on naming you Lord of the Jones Citadel," Sid answered.

"That is an honor that will last a day at the most. I'm going to die without an heir. Someone will have to watch over it after I'm gone," Bixby said.

"Then I shall find an honorable man to take care of the Citadel. He'll have to compete with a legend. You have done a great job. My uncle would be proud of you," Sid said.

"That is good. I will talk to that honorable young man and tell him what he needs to know," Bixby said.

Nodding his head, Sid asked, "Do you swear to serve as Lord to your King?"

"I so swear," Bixby answered. He had tried to raise his hand, but the strength wasn't there.

"Jacobson rode with me from this Citadel and served honorably in my forces. He is a good man without personal ambition and will watch over the Citadel with the kind of attention that you have given it over the years. Will you accept him as your heir?"

Bixby smiled at the description of Jacobson. He knew the young man having watched him grow up on Jacob's place by the river. He would have preferred an older man, but war had a tendency to age one beyond their years. All in all, he felt that Jacobson was a good choice. Giving the barest nod, he said, "Yes, I will."

"I shall send for him," Sid said.



-------

Chapter 37


A small party of rough looking men waited on the road for Sid to arrive. They had seen him and the five people who were traveling with him from a distance and had ridden hard to intercept him. Their horses shifted nervously as they waited. The oldest among them sat astride his horse wearing a frown on his face as he watched the group approach. The person he was waiting for wasn't with them.

Sid rode up and looked at the men waiting for him. They did not look entirely happy to see him. Fred looked at the men with concern and wondered why they were there. Smiling at the oldest man of the group, Sid said, "Hello Gustov."

"Hello, Sid. Where's my son?" Gustov asked in a gruff voice.

"Lord Olaf is taking care of the King's business," Sid answered with a smile.

The news surprised the men; none of them more so than Gustov. He looked around at his companions for a second before he asked, "Lord Olaf? My son is a Lord?"

"He's a Lord. Appleton is his holding," Sid answered.

"Appleton? Are you telling me that my son is Lord over a bunch of apple farmers?" Gustov asked in disgust. He had raised his son to be a cattleman, not to grub in the dirt like those farmers. He wasn't too upset. After all, his son was a Lord even if it was over a bunch of apple farmers.

"Yes. It was the only Holding that would give him time for his other duties," Sid said chuckling at the man's reaction.

"What other duties?" Gustov asked raising an eyebrow.

"He serves the King as Minister of Agriculture," Sid answered.

"And just who is this King?" Gustov asked watching Sid with a twinkle in his eye.

"Me," Sid answered with a grin.

Gustov laughed and said, "It's just as well that you decided to keep him. I imagine after all of his adventures that he wouldn't want to be a cattleman anymore. He'd have been bored following behind these stupid beasts all day long. I guess being Minister of Agriculture isn't all that bad."

"Olaf was one of my most trusted advisors on the campaign. I know he's going to do a good job. You raised him well," Sid said.

"Thank you," Gustov said. He sat up a little straighter in his saddle thinking that his son was a Lord of a Holding and a Minister to the King. He nodded his head thinking that it wasn't a bad accomplishment for a boy raised following cattle around. He said, "Would you come to my house and tell me about his exploits?"

Four women chimed up as one, "We can't!"

Sid turned and looked at the four Damsels. He doubted that he would survive taking Gustov up on his offer. Grinning, he turned back to Gustov and said, "The women have spoken. I fear that I can not accept your offer. I would risk my life if I did."

Gustov's laugh reminded Sid of Olaf's laugh. Gustov said, "It is right and good for a man to fear a woman. Why do you think I stay out here and watch cattle all day rather than stay at home with the wife?"

Chuckling, Fred said, "I can tell where Olaf got his brains."

Fred's comment earned him a light slap on the shoulder from Milly. Gustov watched the interaction between Fred and Milly. He hadn't been introduced to the rest of the party, but it sounded like they knew Olaf and liked him.

Sid laughed. "Why don't you ride with us? I'll tell you about Olaf and the overly productive chickens."

"Chickens?" Gustov asked shaking his head. He turned to the men with him and said, "Why don't you guys get back to the herd? I have to hear about how my son turned into a degenerate and took up with chickens."

Fred laughed at the characterization of Olaf. The men rode off to take care of the cattle. Once the men had left, Sid performed the introductions.

For the next few hours, Sid regaled Gustov with stories about Olaf's adventures. He told of overly productive chickens, herds that got fat while being driven across the country, and slightly twisted ideas. Gustov laughed through most of the tales. Each tale was exactly what he expected of Olaf. It was obvious to him that Sid and Olaf had become good friends over the course of the campaign. It warmed his heart that Olaf had acted with honor and accepted responsibility with a good nature.

-------

Chuck sat behind the counter watching the afternoon crowd trickle into his place. He sighed and poured the pitchers of watered wine before his customers even ordered them. He knew his customers and, even more importantly, knew what they liked to drink. The men came to the counter dropping off their coins and taking the pitchers with them to their tables. He shifted on his seat and watched the crowd.

One of the regulars came in and asked, "So have you heard anything about your son?"

"Barson has a holding and is now a Lord," Chuck answered with more than a little pride. He'd sent his son out to experience the world. Now it was time for the world to experience his son.

"That's great news," the man answered.

Chuck held up a letter that he had received that morning and said, "I've got a letter here where he tells me all about it."

The news created a minor uproar in the bar. Men gathered in front of the bar counter and asked to hear it. Smiling, Chuck made a production of unfolding the letter. Holding it a good distance away, he read the letter aloud.



Dear Father,

General Sid has won the final battle against the slavers. At long last the war is over except for some minor cleanup operations. By right of conquest, Sid is now a King and rules over a vast area of land. I think that he must be the most powerful man in all of Chaos. Next time you see him, you will have to bow and say, 'My Liege.'

I had plans on coming home, but King Sid had other ideas. He gave me a holding. I am now a Lord and rule over Weavertown. As you know, I have been staying there a lot while performing my duties. It is a nice enough place and I had thought of returning to it one day. You would like it and I'm pleased that King Sid though well enough of me to give me ownership of that Holding.

I will not be returning home in the near future. King Sid has also made me the Minister of Finance. Can you imagine that? You son is in charge of the finances for an entire kingdom. I don't know why he chose me, but I swear that I will carry out this duty with the kind of honor that you taught me. I will do you proud.

The messenger is about to leave and I must end the letter now. I'll return home to see you as soon as possible. I won't require you to bow and call me 'Lord.'

Your son,

Barson



The crowd in the bar had laughed at the last line and then started teasing Chuck about having to call his son Lord Barson. Chuck took the teasing with good humor knowing that with the jokes came more orders for watered wine.

The room became quiet when the door opened and Sid entered. One of the men, falling to a knee said, "King Sid!"

The rest of the room fell to one knee leaving Sid and his party standing. Chuck looked down at his peg leg and decided that it was too much work to kneel. Sid looked around the room and said, "Get up. Drink your wine and have some fun. Don't mind me."

Chuck waved to Sid and said, "King Sid, I had just finished reading a letter that came from Barson."

"That's Lord Barson to you," one of the men called out. A ripple of laughter crossed the room. Every man in there would have given anything to have a son who became a Lord.

While Fred escorted the ladies to the table, Sid walked over to the bar counter and said, "So you've heard the news."

"Yes," Chuck said. He turned to a young man who was working in the storeroom and said, "Take over the counter for me, Danny."

The young man, about thirteen years old, said, "Yes, sir."

Laura glared at where Sid was standing and muttered, "Come on, Sid. The bank is only two streets over. We can be there in five minutes."

"Have a little patience. That is Barson's father," Fred said.

"As much as I love Barson, I'd love to be back at Crossroads even more," Alice said crossly.

"Hush," Fred said getting a little irritated at the women. He liked Barson. He felt it was only proper that Sid spend a little time with his father to fill him in on the news. Barson's father deserved to know how well Barson had comported himself on the campaign.

"Don't get upset, dear," Milly said putting a hand on his arm to calm him down. She said, "They have needs that only Sid can satisfy."

Relaxing a little Fred nodded his head. He watched Sid and Chuck leave the public room to talk. He said, "Sorry. I'm just a little bothered that Sid thinks he can leave me behind."

Milly nodded her head in understanding. She loved him and wanted him to stay with her, but she wouldn't be able to respect him if he didn't try to follow Sid. She said, "You are his sworn man and have a duty to perform."

Inside Chuck's office, Sid waited for Chuck to take a seat. The wooden leg seemed to be bothering the older man and he sighed when he settled into his chair. Looking over at Sid, Chuck said, "Gerald would be proud of you."

"Thank you. That means a lot coming from one of the two men that my Uncle trusted most on Chaos," Sid said.

"Why do you say that? I'm only a lowly bartender in a little town," Chuck asked gesturing to the little office in which they were seated.

"He left his most valuable possessions with you. That tells me that he trusted you a lot," Sid answered. "I have the same level of trust in your son."

"That makes me feel good," Chuck said.

"I guess you heard the news about Bixby," Sid said.

"Yes, I was sad to hear of his passing. He was my best friend," Chuck said.

"And you watched his back," Sid said.

"Yes, I did. After our last campaign together, your uncle talked to Bixby and me about his Citadel. He asked me to rule over it while he was gone, but I refused knowing that Bixby was the better choice. I think your uncle knew that as well, but he gave me the chance to turn it down before offering it to Bixby. I figured that our business was done, but your uncle talked me into opening this bar and serving as Bixby's rear guard. It was a good offer for a man with one leg and I knew it," Chuck said.

"My uncle always came to you before he went to the Citadel," Sid said.

"That's right. Only a handful of people ever realized that," Chuck said. He wondered how Sid had managed to figure it out.

"I'd like it if you would continue to serve in that capacity," Sid said looking the older man in the eye. He said, "I'm sure that you'd like to join Barson in Weavertown, but..."

Chuck smiled and gestured to his surroundings. In a soft voice, he said, "I've got this place and another son to raise."

"Another son?" Sid asked surprised by the reason for staying. Barson had never mentioned having a brother.

"Well, I adopted this kid that showed up in town. One day, he wandered in looking lost and no one knew what to do with him. He's an orphan and I took him in. After Barson left, I needed a little help running the bar," Chuck said shrugging his shoulders. The boy was basically good at heart and was growing into a good man under his tutelage.

"That was very kind of you," Sid said.

Chuck was silent for a moment and then said, "I believe that Danny escaped the slavers when the rest of his family was taken. He won't talk about it, but he is troubled with nightmares. He must have seen some horrible things."

"If he escaped the slavers, then you are right," Sid said having a good idea of some of the horrors that the young man might have seen.

"I knew after Barson's first letter that he wouldn't be coming home. He was always a little too big for this town. Staying here would have been hard on him," Chuck said. He gestured in the direction of the bar and added, "Danny has had enough of the world. He'll stay here and take care of me in my old age. It has all worked out for the best."

-------

Sid stepped out of Chuck's office to find that the four Damsels were drinking watered wine as if their lives depended on it. They were not taking the delays in getting back to Crossroads very well. Shaking his head, he stepped over to the table and asked, "Does anyone think they are sober enough to make it over to the bank or will we have to spend the night here?"

Alice looked up at Sid and said, "There's no way we are spending another night here!"

Sid turned to Fred and said, "Fred. We'll be going to the bank now. Chuck will put you up for a few days in exchange for stories about Barson and Olaf."

"Thanks," Fred said despite the fact that he had other plans.

Sid pulled out a coin purse and set it on the table in front of Fred. Pointing to it, he said, "That should cover your living expenses for a while. If you need more, talk to Barson and he'll make sure that you get all that you need."

Shaking his head, Fred jiggled the coin purse at his side. Dismissing the coin purse Sid had put on the table, he said, "I have plenty of money."

"I'm sure you do, but you're getting married soon. You'll want to have a house built at Rivers Crossing," Sid said.

Fred frowned and thought about what Sid had said. He looked over at Milly and saw that she was nodding her head for him to take it. After considering it for a bit, Fred decided that he would leave that money with Milly while he followed Sid through the magic gate. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Okay, I'll take it."

"Good," Sid said. He looked at the man for a several seconds thinking about all they had gone through together. It was hard to say goodbye. Finally, he said, "I had better get them over to the bank."

"Of course," Fred said looking at the four Damsels. They looked tense enough to snap despite the quantities of watered wine they had drunk.

"Take care of yourself and Milly," Sid said.

"Take care of yourself," Fred said. He took a drink of his watered wine and set the mug down with a heavy hand. The clunk it made as it struck the wood table echoed across the room.

"Watch over Barson, Olaf, and Albert for me. You know how I like to do things. Don't let them get carried away on one of their slightly twisted ideas," Sid said looking at Fred. He knew that Fred was going to try and follow him.

Fred shrugged his shoulders thinking that Sid was just trying to give him something to do just to occupy his time. It was a pretty safe bet that Barson, Olaf, and Albert wouldn't destroy the kingdom. Smiling, he said, "I'm your sworn man."

"Let's go ladies," Sid said. The four Damsels scrambled to their feet and followed Sid out the door.

Fred waited a moment and handed the coin purse to Milly. He said, "I have to do it."

She nodded her head and said, "I understand."

Fred ran over to where Chuck was seated at the bar. After a minute of conversation, Fred followed Sid out the door. He spotted Sid stripping the saddle and gear off of his horse, placing it in a pile at his feet. It seemed odd to him that Sid was going to visit a magic gate, but was unsaddling his horse before leaving. He was even more surprised when Sid carried all of that gear into the bank.

Once everyone had entered the bank, Fred went to the bank and, looking through a window, watched while Sid deposited almost two thousand Conches into his account. When Sid went into one of the rooms, Fred entered the bank and waited beside the door. There was a small indicator on the doorknob that showed that the room was occupied. Fred settled in for a wait. He wasn't going to be left behind.

Inside the room, Sid stuck his thumb in the hole that would cause the storage case to appear on the table. When the storage case appeared on the table rather than being transported, Alice asked, "What is it now? Why aren't we back in Crossroads?"

Sid smiled and said, "I have to store my gear for the next visit."

"Just forget it. Let's go. I'm so horny I could kill," Alice said. She wasn't alone in that sentiment.

"It'll just take a few minutes," Sid said. He looked at the four women and said, "If you have anything from here, remove it now."

Sid opened the storage case. Reach down, he picked up the saddle from his horse and loaded it into the case. The saddlebags and other gear followed it into the case. Sid started removing all of the external items from his clothes. The coin purse, his weapons, and his protective gear went into the case.

All of the women turned to watch when he started removing his clothes. He was removing the chain mail when he realized that he had a very interested audience watching him. Feeling a little embarrassed, he asked, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I could watch this all day long," Laura said with a giggle.

All three of the other women nodded their heads in agreement. Sid put the chain mail into the case and then removed the undershirt wishing that he had taken the time to wash it before storing it away. With his back to the women, he jumped when three hands ran along his bare back. He turned and asked, "Are you having fun?"

"Yes," Mandy said while running a hand over his chest. Her fingers drifted to his nipples and she gave them a playful tweak. When he jumped, she said, "I'm having lots of fun."

Looking down at the bulge in his pants, Laura said, "It looks like he enjoys having someone play with his nipples."

"You don't say," Mary said. She ran a hand along his ass and giggled when he jumped.

Groaning, Sid did his best to ignore the teasing comments. He double-checked himself and found that he was still wearing the signet ring. It took a little twisting to remove it. He dropped it into the storage case and ran his hands over the places where he normally carried things. There was nothing on his belt, in his boots, on his hands, around his neck, or on his head. Turning to the women, he asked, "Did you have anything to remove?"

When they all indicated that they didn't, Sid closed the case.

-------

Outside the room, Fred waited for the door to open Sid to emerge. After ten minutes, the indicator changed to show that the room was available. Fred straightened up and waited for Sid to come out of the room. After another ten minutes passed without Sid coming out, he opened the door and looked inside the room. It was empty. He entered and looked around the room for any way out. There was none.

Fred stood in the room for a long time before accepting that Sid had left with the Damsels. It was hard to accept that the magic gate was inside a bank, but that's what it looked like to him. It also explained why the Damsels always got so excited when they saw a bank. He walked back to the bar to rejoin Milly with a heavy heart. Shaking his head, he said, "A sworn man's place is by the side of his master."

-------

Sid stepped out of the portal and into the arms of Sally Caretaker. Laura Author stepped out behind him. Ignoring the Damsel for a moment, Sally asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yes," he answered. "All of us are okay."

"Good," she said as she led him to the healing tank. The rules of Crossroads stated that all people returning from Chaos were to go immediately into the healing tank. Sid knew enough not to argue, but he did wonder why she was rushing him. While putting him inside it, she said, "You'll be out soon enough."

"I brought four Damsels with me," Sid managed to say before the lid of the healing tank closed.

Sally Caretaker looked down at Sid in the healing tank with a proud smile. She said, "I know my Hero from Earth."

Grinning as she returned to the portal, Sally was ready to get the full story from the Damsels. Trying to act a little professional, she said, "Hello Laura Author. I'll take you and the other Damsels to the Healing Chamber."

"Okay," Laura said.

Looking behind Laura for the other Damsels, Sally asked, "Where are the others?"

"I don't know," Laura Author said looking around puzzled by their absence. She hadn't realized that she had been the only Damsel in the portal with Sid.



-------

Chapter 38


Sid climbed out of the healing chamber feeling refreshed. He looked at Sally Caretaker and swept her into his arms. Nuzzling her neck, he said in a soft voice, "I missed you so much. We've been separated for two and a half years."

"I missed you too," Sally said although a lot less time had passed for her. She almost felt guilty for having rushed him into the healing chamber on his arrival. His kisses on her neck were making her knees weak.

"Trying to satisfy all four Damsels at once is going to kill me. I'm afraid that I'm not going to have any time with you," Sid said enjoying the feel of her body close to his. She was topless and wearing a little loincloth that left enough to the imagination that it was truly exciting.

Feeling his hard erection pressing into her, Sally said, "You don't have to worry about that. They are coming through the portal one at a time. Laura was the first one to come through. Once you've driven her into unconsciousness a few times, I'm sure that I'll have a chance to be with you. We'll have four months together."

Surprised at the news, Sid pulled back and looked at Sally. He smiled and said, "When I'm done with Laura..."

"Then you'll have Mary," Sally said completing the sentence for him. She grabbed his arm and said, "Time for you to get clean. You've got a very horny woman waiting for you in bed."

"Okay," Sid said thinking that the term horny described every woman from Cassandra that he had met so far. It was their natural state.

-------

The scent of an excited woman nearly knocked Sid out when Sally led him to the bedroom. Laura was lying naked in the center of the bed shaking from a self-induced orgasm. As soon as she saw Sid, she said, "Come here, now!"

Laura practically dragged Sid into the bed with her. She did tear the robe that he was wearing in her rush to get him naked. Afraid that she was going to kill him with her eagerness, Sid grabbed her wrists. Once he had control of her, he started kissing her neck. Taking his time, he proceeded to kiss every inch of her body. It was an hour and a dozen orgasms later before he reached her clit.

When Sid's lips touched Laura's clit, she let loose a scream that could have shattered glass. Never in her life had she been so sexually excited. Her hips rose a foot off the bed, her legs locked him in place, her stomach vibrated, and her eyes rolled back in her head. When she started to come down from that orgasm, Sid slid his cock into her. Laura wrapped herself around Sid so tightly that he couldn't even take a breath. About the time when he thought he was going to die, Laura collapsed onto the bed unconscious.

Taking his time, he made love to her. Twice she regained consciousness and then lost it again before he finally came. Rolling off of her, he said, "Restorative please."

Nothing happened until Sally entered the room and said, "Restorative please."

A restorative appeared on the nightstand by the bed. Sid reached over and drank it down in one gulp. He tossed the empty vial in the air and watched as it disappeared. Smiling, he said, "That's such a neat trick."

Sally took a seat on the bed next to Laura. Looking over the woman, she said, "I think you killed her."

Worried, Sid sat up and looked at Laura. He relaxed when he realized that she was still breathing. Shaking his head, he said, "Don't tell me things like that."

"Sorry," she said. Laura was still unconscious. Sally smiled over at him and said, "She'd love to go out that way."

"Is she okay?"

"My magnificent Hero, she's in heaven," Sally answered. She looked up at the ceiling and said, "Smelling salts and a restorative."

Two vials appeared on the nightstand next to the bed. Sally reached over and picked up the smaller vial. After removing the lid, she smelled the contents and pulled her head back at the strong odor of ammonia. She waved the vial under Laura's nose. It took several seconds before the woman reacted and opened her eyes. She was too weak to pull back from the odor.

Sally put the cap back on the vial of smelling salts. She picked up the vial of restorative and helped Laura drink it. While Laura drank, Sally said, "Isn't he amazing in bed?"

Feeling a little stronger, Laura answered, "Amazing isn't a strong enough word for it. I've got to sleep."

Sid watched Laura roll over and fall asleep. Worried, he asked, "Is she going to be okay?"

Sally stood up and removed the transparent gown that she wore. Moving sensuously towards Sid, she said, "She's going to be fine. I'm the one that needs a little attention now."

An hour later, Sid fell back on the bed and dropped off to sleep sandwiched between two women. Neither woman minded that he had fallen asleep; they were in no shape to care about anything. Laura had managed to sleep while the bed had shaken under her, Sally had screamed out a dozen orgasms, and Sid had grunted his way to an orgasm.

Sid awoke to find that Laura was watching him from the far side of the bed. Sally was nowhere to be seen. Looking at Laura, he asked, "What's the matter?"

"That shouldn't be possible," Laura said. She touched her arm and felt a tremor as a very minor orgasm wash over her.

"What?"

"No man should be able to do that to a woman and survive. I must have come a million times," Laura said with obvious awe in her voice.

Sid reached for her, but she backed away saying, "Don't touch me. I can't even touch me without coming."

"What?" Sid asked surprised by her reaction.

"You must have left my orgasm switch in the on position. I can't even move without having an orgasm," Laura said. Every little shift of the bed seemed to send orgasmic jolts through her body.

Not really believing her, Sid laughed and reached out to touch her. When his hand came in contact with her nipple, she practically went into a seizure. Sid scrambled back and stared at her in amazement. Laura stared at him with a dazed look on her face. A huge shudder went through her and then she collapsed on the bed.

Worried, Sid shouted, "Sally!"

Sally came into the room. Before she had a chance to say anything, Sid said, "We need to get her into the healing chamber!"

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I touched her and she had a seizure. She's unconscious."

"Did she say anything to you before you touched her?" Sally asked looking worried.

"She said that I left her orgasm switch in the on position and that she couldn't even move without having an orgasm," Sid answered looking at Laura with concern. The next thing he knew Sally had landed on top of him and was covering him with kisses. Confused, he tried to pull Sally off of him. It took a little effort, but he finally managed to get free. Pointing to Laura, he said, "We've got to take care of Laura."

Bouncing around on the bed, Sally replied, "I can't believe you managed to do that to her."

"What did I do to her?"

She clasped her hands together and shook her body. If Sid hadn't been so worried about Laura, the sight of Sally's body jiggling in such an attractive manner would have given him an erection. Sally shouted, "She's in a hypersensitive orgasmic state! Do you know that there have only been two recorded instances of that ever happening as a result of a man having sex with a woman?"

"I've never even heard of it," Sid answered wondering if there was really such a thing as a hypersensitive orgasmic state.

Sally jumped out of the bed and grabbed him by the hand. She pulled him up and said, "Let's go in the other room and talk about it. She's going to be okay."

"Are you sure?" Sid asked looking down at the unconscious woman. Frowning, he said, "It looks like she's in a coma."

Sally was practically dancing on the floor. She said, "Oh my wonderful Hero. You've made me so proud. Every woman in Cassandra is going to be so jealous of me when they hear about this! Ah! This is so great!"

"She doesn't look good," Sid said pointing at Laura.

"She's going to be having orgasms for a week, maybe more!" Sally danced around the room again.

"I'm worried about her," Sid said.

"Don't be. We need to get out of here so that she can start to recover," Sally said.

"Why?"

"Every time we shake the bed she has a little orgasm," Sally said. Realizing that Sid had no idea what she was talking about, she said, "Look. The women of Cassandra have evolved so that the men of Cassandra can give them a little pleasure with the six seconds of sex they can manage. A whole lot of sexual pleasure can flip a little switch in our brains that gives us almost continuous orgasms for a long time."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. Although it is very rare, a woman can use a vibrator to take her to that point. The idea that a man drove a woman to it is just unbelievable. Every woman on Cassandra is going to be so jealous of me," Sally said hugging herself.

"This is a real phenomenon?"

"Yes. Now we had better get out of here so that she can recover," Sally said.

"Okay," Sid said moving towards the door.

Sally looked up at the ceiling and said, "Three restoratives."

Three vials of restorative appeared on the nightstand. She went over to Sid and started to lead him out of the room. He looked back and asked, "What are the restoratives for?"

"When she wakes up, she's going to need them," Sally said.

"Oh," Sid replied.

Once they had reached the living room, Sid looked around and said, "Did you redecorate?"

"Yes. I thought that you should have some lighter colors in the room," Sally answered pleased that he had noticed it.

"I like it," Sid said turning around to take in the rest of the room. The lighter colors weren't quite as masculine as the darker wood had been, but he liked it.

"Great," Sally said removing her top while thinking about what Sid had accomplished.

-------

It was a week later when Laura crept out of the bedroom looking around cautiously. Spotting Sally, she asked, "Do you know what he did to me?"

"I have a pretty good idea," Sally answered with a grin.

"It has been two hours since my last orgasm. I can't believe it," Laura said. A shiver went through her body. She said, "Oops, I spoke too soon."

"Have a seat. I'll fix you something to eat," Sally said. A wide grin crossed her face and she asked, "Would you like a sausage?"

Another shiver went through Laura's body. She froze in place trying not to move. In a tight voice, she answered, "No imagery, please."

"Okay," Sally said. She looked up at the ceiling and said, "A large garden salad with vinegar and oil dressing."

Laura picked up a leaf of lettuce with her fingers and nibbled on it. She asked, "Where is he?"

"He's in the library writing down what he can recall of his adventures," Sally answered.

"He's a King," Laura said. Another little shiver went through her body upon saying the word 'King.' She froze in place for another minute enjoying the experience of the easy orgasm. She reached down and took another piece of lettuce.

"I'm very proud of him," Sally said.

Sighing, Laura said, "I still can't believe he put me into a hypersensitive orgasmic state. I've always found it rather difficult to have an orgasm."

"He's a Hero from Earth," Sally said as if that explained it all. She added, "And I'm his caretaker."

"You're so lucky," Laura said with more than a hint of envy in her voice.

-------

It was several days later before Sid was allowed to see Laura. Sally led him to the bedroom where Laura was on the bed. Sally said, "You can make love to her, but you have to stop after she has a couple of orgasms."

Worried, Sid said, "Is it safe?"

"Yes," Sally answered.

Laura reached out for him and said, "So long as we don't over do it, I'll be fine."

"I'd hate to hurt you," Sid said.

"Come here and lie down. Let her climb on top," Sally said.

Sid did as she asked; Laura did as she wanted; and a good time was had by both. Sally watched with pride as her Hero outlasted Laura. It wasn't hard. Laura was on a hair trigger and came even as she mounted him. A few minutes later Laura climbed off totally satisfied. Not wanting to leave Sid frustrated, Sally climbed on and rode to several orgasms of her own.

-------

Sid and Sally were sitting in the planning room talking about the time he had spent in Chaos. Running a finger around the area that he had captured, Sid said, "I know it is a large area and I didn't really want it for myself. All I really wanted to do was rescue the Damsels and to wipe out slavery on Chaos. At least we accomplished that."

"Well, not really. There are still areas where slavery is still practiced. The slavers had a pirate navy that was taking slaves, too. The three of you got rid of the Slave Empire, but not slavery," Sally answered. She hadn't known that when Sid had left for Chaos.

"Will I have to go back and raise another army?" Sid asked.

"No. Other Heroes will take care of it when they rescue a Damsel in Distress who has been taken as a slave. The slavery problem isn't of the same scale as what you fought," Sally answered.

"Still, I would feel better if I did something about it," Sid said.

Sally could feel her magic spot getting damp. Trying to control her reaction to his words, she said, "Other Heroes with less experience than you need the challenges to remain. If you remove all of the problems then there won't be any Distress for the Damsels, no need for Heroes, and my planet will stop having babies. You wouldn't want that, now would you?"

"I guess not," Sid said looking at Sally.

Laura came into the room and said, "There you are."

"Yes, here we are," Sid said winking at her.

"I'm pregnant," Laura said with a huge grin. The time spent as a slave had suddenly become worthwhile. The misery of it all was forgotten in the excitement of the news that she was about to be a mother.

"That's great," Sid said looking over at the exotic beauty.

"I have to go now," Laura said looking at Sid with tears in her eyes. After him, no man could ever satisfy her again. The thought of what he had done to her triggered a small orgasm. Based on that, she wondered if she would ever need another man ever again.

Sid rose and walked over to her. He hugged her and said, "Take care of yourself and our baby."

Laura sniffed once and then ran out of the room. Sid heard the door of the portal to Cassandra open and close. He turned to Sally and asked, "Is she going to be okay?"

"She's fine," Sally said.

There was a loud scream from the portal from Chaos. As Sally and Sid raced out of the room and headed towards the portal, they could hear Mary shouting, "I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! This is so unfair!"

The door to the portal room was open and Mary was standing at it with tears in her eyes. Seeing Sally, she said, "I was a Damsel in Distress! I was rescued! Why can't I give him my reward?"

Realizing that Mary thought that she wasn't going to have a chance to be with Sid, Sally said, "Sid is here."

Sid said, "Hello Mary."

Mary looked at Sid and raced over to him. She threw her arms around him and sobbed. Her entire body heaving as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. Barely able to talk, she said, "I thought I wasn't going to get to be with you."

"I'm here," Sid said patting her on the back.

Sally moved in and talked Mary into letting go of Sid. Once Mary had calmed down a little, Sally said, "You've got to go into the healing chamber."

"I'd rather stay here with Sid," Mary said.

"You know the rules. Every return from Chaos requires a visit to the healing chamber," Sally said steering the woman towards the healing chamber.

"I've waited so long for this moment," Mary said still looking at Sid despite the fact that Sally was pulling her away.

"I know, Mary," Sally said rolling her eyes. Usually the Hero was sent first into the healing chamber and left the chamber after the Damsel. This allowed the caretaker time to find out how the Damsel wanted to arrange the initial session in bed. With Sid walking around, that was a little more difficult.

She returned to Sid after putting Mary into the healing chamber. Grabbing him by the arm, she steered him back to the library and said, "Work on your journal until I come for you."

"Okay," Sid said. He was feeling a little hungry and said, "Would you mind getting a steak for me?"

Sally grinned and looked up at the ceiling. She said, "Sid's special steak dinner."

The meal appeared on the table in front of Sid looking just the way he liked his steak. While reaching for the silverware, he asked, "How long will she stay in the healing chamber?"

"It depends," Sally said. The time was usually quite variable and could take as long as several days if there had been significant damage to the individual. She said, "I'll get you when she's ready."

-------

Sid felt more than a little foolish posing naked on the bed while waiting for Mary to arrive. Sally had insisted that he wait there and had even dictated his pose. The pose went well past the point of obscene. He was on his knees with his hips thrust forward with a slightly wilting erection jutting out. He had his balls cupped in his left hand and had a finger of his right hand circling his nipple. Holding the pose made him wonder if women felt that stupid trying to pose sexily on a bed for their man.

Mary entered the room and shrieked in glee at seeing him. The next thing Sid knew, she was seated in front of him worshiping his cock. Sally, watching from the door, winked at him and said, "I told you she would like that."



-------

Chapter 39


Mary turned out to be a very enthusiastic lover. She was ready for sex at the drop of a hat and, while preferring Sid as a partner, was just as likely to turn to Sally for a little action. It was obvious that she was just as happy making love with a woman as a man. Based on her attitude towards sex alone, she was the wet dream of every adolescent boy.

When she had come out after a month's stay and announced that she was pregnant, Sid was sad to see her go. He didn't have much time to dwell on it since he'd had to rush to the portal to welcome Mandy before she had a chance to get too upset about not finding him in the portal with her.

Mandy enjoyed sex, but she really preferred the seduction that preceded sex. She reveled in long slow dinners that led up to explosive sex. Unlike most of the Damsels, she never demanded that he move faster towards insertion during foreplay. The longer he stroked her body and the more he kissed her, the more she wanted of it.

Throughout foreplay, Mandy experienced a nice golden glow of a gentle orgasm that once started seemed to never end. She would find herself in a state of continual bliss and never want it to end. Of course, it did end, but with a big bang that left her dazed, confused, and very happy. Sessions with Mandy lasted for hours.

For Sid, his time with Mandy was fun. It was nice to be able to take his time with her and enjoy her body. She had a nice body that was built for enjoyment. She had curves in all of the right places, soft skin, and well proportion features. Sid was convinced that she'd have won playmate of the century based on appearance alone. Of course, Sid thought that every Damsel looked that good.

The time while Mandy was visiting wasn't the best of times for Sally. The one thing that Mandy didn't want was to share her bed with Sally. The long sessions in bed kept Sid from spending much time with Sally, but Sally didn't mind. She knew that Sid was giving Mandy more pleasure than the woman had ever thought possible. Her Hero was earning a reputation on Cassandra that made her the envy of every woman.

Sid and Sally were eating breakfast one morning when Sally said, "Mary has been here about a month. I imagine that she's going to announce that she's pregnant soon."

"I'll be sad to see her go," Sid said meaning it.

Sally understood what Sid meant. It was hard not to get close to the Damsel during the month that they stayed there. She had every intention of looking up Mary when she returned to Cassandra after Sid left. She said, "Yes. She's really enjoyed your attention."

"It's been nice spending so much time with you," Sid said reaching out and stroking her along the face.

"You sound like our time together is about over," Sally said looking at him puzzled by that comment.

"Alice is next," Sid said. A small tremor of fear at what Alice was going to do when she arrived flitted through his body.

"So?"

"I have a feeling that she's going to be very demanding," Sid answered. He had just started to tell her about the time spent with Alice when Mandy came in the room. She had a serene glow about her. He looked up at her and asked, "Are you pregnant?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you so much," Mandy answered. She leaned down and kissed him. Looking him in the eye, she said, "You've been wonderful beyond all my dreams, King Sid. My time here with you is like a Fairy Tale come true."

"I'm glad," Sid said.

Mandy turned to Sally and said, "I'm sorry that I didn't spend more time with you. It's just that Sid is so special that I never wanted it to end. You're a very lucky woman to have him."

"Thank you," Sally said. Mentally she added a hash mark on Sid's scoreboard of happy women.

"I've got to go now," Mandy said. Thinking back to the days trapped in the cellar, she remembered thinking that there was no way that such misery could be worth it. She thought differently now. It had all been worth it.

While Mandy made her way to the portal to Cassandra, Sid and Sally made their way to the portal from Chaos. They made it just in time to see a very worried Alice step out of the portal. Without breaking eye contact, she stalked towards Sid like a Lioness after a Gazelle. A little frightened, Sid backed away. In a very even voice, she said, "Now you are mine. There are no excuses. There will be no delays."

Sid backed away and then Alice pounced taking him to the floor with her atop him pinning him down. Sally had to wrestle Alice off of Sid and force her into the healing chamber. Sid was on the floor staring at the healing chamber in shock. When Sally returned to the room, he said, "Oh my."

Grinning down at Sid, Sally said, "She's not going to be easy to satisfy."

Laughing, Sid said, "I guess this is going to require me to apply all of my seduction skills."

-------

Not even bothering with a pose, Sid sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Alice to arrive. The door opened and there was a blur as the woman charged into the room. She looked around for a fraction of a second before heading towards Sid. His eyes widened when she launched herself at him. The collision wasn't hard, but Sid ended up on his back with Alice straddling him.

Without even pretence of foreplay, she grasped roughly his cock in one hand and started to lower herself onto it. She screamed out an orgasm almost the moment that his cock touched her private parts and then collapsed unconscious atop him.

From underneath the woman, Sid laid there for a moment wondering what to do. He hadn't even gotten a fraction of an inch of his cock inserted into her. He stared up at the ceiling and said, "This is ridiculous."

Sally came into the room and looked at the situation. Puzzled, she asked, "Is she done already?"

"I don't know," Sid answered maneuvering Alice off of him. Once he was clear of her, he sat up and looked down at her wondering if she suffered from a female version of premature ejaculation. He said, "I didn't think we even got started yet."

"That's strange," Sally said.

Alice recovered and looked over at Sid trying to figure out what had happened. Deciding that it didn't matter, she pushed him onto his back and climbed on him again. She screamed and lost consciousness the same time his cock touched her private area. There hadn't even been insertion. They hit foreheads as she collapsed.

Sally covered her mouth and laughed at the situation in which Sid found himself. From underneath Alice, he said, "Help me get her off of me."

"Just stay there," Sally said trying hard not to laugh.

Several hours later, the situation hadn't improved. It seemed that every time Sid got his cock near her vagina, she screamed out in orgasm and lost consciousness. Alice was getting frustrated by it. Sid had passed frustrated hours earlier and was just trying to survive the encounter.

Finally, Sally had enough and decided that it was time for Sid to get some pleasure from this encounter. Looking up at the ceiling, she said, "Eyebolts in the four corner posts of the bed with ankle and wrist restraints attached to them."

Sid looked at the corner posts and saw that Sally's request had miraculously appeared. It took Sally two minutes to get Alice secured to the bed with just enough slack to wiggle around a little. Looking at Sid, she said, "Have at her when she wakes up and don't stop until you've come twice."

"That'll kill her," Sid said.

"Just do it," Sally said.

When Alice woke up, she tried to climb atop Sid. Thanks to the wrist and ankle restraints her attempt was unsuccessful. She struggled for a minute and glared at Sally sure that it had been her idea. The glare turned into crossed eyes when Sid gently ran a finger along her jaw. She struggled against the restraints trying to put her arms around him to pull him closer. Sid ignored her actions. She purred when he knelt over and started kissing her neck. From there, he kissed her lips, her eyelids, and her ears. A hand roamed over her body touching her with soft delightful caresses.

Unable to control the situation, Alice relaxed and enjoyed his attention. Encouragement was in the form of little animal noises and squeaks. For the next half an hour, Sid touched and caressed her body in all of the ways that she had dreamed about when held as a slave in the whorehouse. Her pleasure was building with small plateaus that corresponded with little orgasms. Higher and higher she was lifted.

When Sid slid his cock into her, her hips rose off the bed to ease entry. There was another of those little orgasms, but it didn't diminish the overall excitement she was feeling. Sid went to work thrusting into her. She lost the ability to even make animal noises.

When he was about to come, Sid bit down on her nipple. That triggered the most intense orgasm that had ever been experienced in that room. Despite being restrained, Alice lifted them a foot off the bed as her body reacted. They landed on the bed as he poured his seed into her.

Sally watching from the end of the bed said, "Oh my. That was a good one."

Sid and Alice collapsed with him still inserted into her. Sally smiled and went to the corners of the bed and removed the restraints. Looking down at the exhausted pair, she said, "Two restoratives."

The vials of green liquid appeared on the nightstand beside the bed. She went to the head of the bed and picked up one of the wrist restraints. Placing it around her wrist, she said, "I'm going to have to try that sometime."

Looking down at the couple, she knew that they didn't need her watching over them any longer. She removed the restraint before turning to leave the room. Almost as soon as it was gone, she missed it. She needed a little time to recover from the excitement caused by watching them.

Sid woke up to find that Alice had wrapped her arms and legs around him. She was undulating beneath him enjoying the feel of his cock inside her. It was a very nice way to wake. His erection hardened even more. He wrapped his arms around her and started thrusting. Alice groaned and headed towards another orgasm.

-------

Wearing a robe, Sid staggered out of the bedroom and collapsed on the couch. He looked over at Sally and said, "I'm exhausted."

"You look horrible," Sally said. He had rings under his eyes and looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep in days.

"Thanks," Sid said without enough energy to say anymore.

"You need a shave."

"I need a meal, a bath, and a shave," Sid corrected. He tried to remember when he had last eaten. He took a deep breath and said, "I need a nap."

Alice bounced out of the room and said, "Wow! I've got so much energy that I can't even sit down."

Sid looked over at her and shook his head in wonder. Not sure that he could survive another round of sex, he said, "I'm glad."

"Are you going to tie me up again? I really, really liked that," she said sitting down next to Sid. Feeling hyper, she looked over at Sally and asked, "Have you ever had him tie you up like that? I've got to tell you that it is wonderful. I probably came a hundred times. You've really got to try it."

Sally examined Alice with a frown on her face. It wasn't so much the idea of being restrained while Sid ravaged her that bothered her. In fact, that idea had a certain portion of her body feeling very hot. No, the thing that bothered her was Alice's unnatural behavior. Standing up, she said, "Let's eat something and clean up so that everyone will be ready for the next round of sexual activity."

"I'm not really interested in having you join us," Alice said looking over at Sally with a frown. Sid was hers for now and she wasn't going to share him with anyone.

"My job is to facilitate your coupling. When I said everyone, I did not include myself," Sally answered with a pleasant smile. Inside, she was furious at the other woman.

"My mistake," Alice said not believing Sally for a minute. She looked over at Sid and said, "After dinner we'll pick up where we left off."

Sid started to say something, but Sally put a hand on his arm. Smiling, Sally said, "After dinner."

-------

Alice raced into the room looking for Sid. She had expected to see him waiting for her on the bed ready to take her. He was there, but not in the manner that she had anticipated. His wrists and ankles were bound with the same restraints that she had worn earlier. Rather than rush over to him, she approached slowly trying to figure out what was happening. She was shocked to find that there were locks on the restraints preventing her from removing them.

It took her a minute to spot the gag in his mouth. Upon seeing it, something clicked in her mind. Sid was restrained and unable to actively participate. Rather than jump on him and ravage him, she approached him with caution. Rather than grab his cock, she ran a hand across his chest.

For the next several hours, Alice made love to Sid. Rather than climbing atop him, she even tried to orally pleasure him and was amazed when he came in her mouth. For a woman from Cassandra, giving head to a man was a wasted activity. Once a man from Cassandra came, it would be a day or two before he would recover. Of course, with the lack of control, the man would come within seconds of her putting his cock in her mouth.

Sid wasn't all that thrilled about being restrained, particularly for such a long period of time. He had to admit that he did enjoy Alice's slower and softer approach a lot more than her frantic scrambling to achieve an orgasm. When he came and couldn't recover his erection, Alice went and got Sally to let Sid go.

Sally looked up from the book she was reading when Alice entered the room. She smiled and asked, "How was it?"

"It was amazing. I had never taken the time to really look at the man's equipment," Alice said. She had been fascinated by the throbbing veins that ran the length of his cock. The large bulbous head that was so much softer than she thought it would be despite the hardness of his erection. Just thinking about it was sufficient to bring a small orgasm.

"Did you like what you saw?"

"Yes, I liked it a lot," Alice said.

Nodding her head, Sally said, "It is amazing, but don't abuse it."

"I have been kind of rough with him, haven't I?" Alice asked.

"Very," Sally said. It had hurt her to see how Alice had been treating Sid. Restraining him had been a desperate attempt to force Alice to be a little gentler. She had been prepared to sedate Alice if she had gotten carried away. That would have been well in line with her duties as a Caretaker.

"I'm sorry. It's just that for so long I kept imagining what it would be like to have sex with an Earthman that I just went a little crazy," Alice said.

-------

Sally entered the room dressed in an outfit that was much more conservative than Sid had ever seen her wear. It was a basic business suit that was sexy in its sharp lines. She had her hair up in a bun. Of course, the outfit only led the man to wonder what she was wearing beneath it.

Sid enjoyed the stark contrast with her normal revealing outfits. Giving her a smile of appreciation, Sid said, "I like it."

"I thought you would," Sally said with a grin. She glided across the room and settled into his lap.

"I like this a lot too," Sid said.

"Have things with Alice been better?" Sally asked.

"Yes. Alice has calmed down a lot. I have enjoyed being with her since that afternoon when you tied me down," Sid answered running a hand along her back.

"I'm glad. I was worried there for a while," Sally said arching her back from the pleasure invoked by roaming his hand.

Looking at her, Sid couldn't resist finding out about her choice of attire. He asked, "What is with the change in clothes?"

"I thought that it would set a mood for a serious talk. I guess I was wrong," Sally answered pressing against his hand.

"A serious talk?" Sid asked slowing the rate at which his hand explored her body. He was trying to determine from touch what she was wearing under the business dress. He had found the little ridge that suggested she was wearing a bra. All that he had to do to confirm that was to trace the ridge around to her front.

"We don't know when you'll be returning to Earth. It could be any day now," Sally said with a frown. She ended her answer with a small gasp when his hand touched her breast.

"I know. I don't want to waste a minute of my time with you," Sid said knowing that she was definitely wearing a bra. The past four months had been a very special in terms of the amount of time that he had been able to spend with her.

"You've got to remember that almost three years have passed for you since you left Earth, but only fifteen minutes have passed on Earth. You're going to be a little disoriented when you return home," Sally said.

Sid frowned at the reminder of how much time had passed. A lot had happened in the past three years. He said, "You're right. I don't even remember what I was doing when I left for here."

"I took some notes when you arrived. I thought we should probably go over those notes today," Sally said pointing to a folder that was on the coffee table.

"Good idea," Sid said. He wondered if they should make it a practice for him to fill her in on his life on Earth when he arrived and then have a briefing before leaving.

For the next four hours, Sally did her best to remind Sid of what had been happening when he had left. Much to his surprise, he had forgotten a lot and she had been able to fill in a lot of details about was going on with his life. She even reminded him that Cynthia was waiting for him back in his house.

They had just finished their discussion when Alice entered the room. Rather than being naked, Alice was wearing a nice gown that hid more than it showed. It was a refreshing change from her normal appearance. Alice looked at Sally and her position on Sid's lap. She smiled and asked, "Don't you two look comfy?"

Sally started to rise and said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to cut into your time with Sid."

Alice waved a hand and said, "Stay where you are."

Sid pulled Sally back down onto his lap. He didn't really want to let her go despite the fact that she was beginning to get heavy. Sally resisted and said, "Let me sit next to you. Alice can sit on the other side of you."

"That sounds comfy," Sid said.

"Yes, it does," Alice said sliding into her seat next to Sid. She cooed when he put an arm around her. After a second, she snuggled up to him and rested her head on his chest.

On the other side of Sid, Sally adjusted her position so that she was resting her head on his chest. Surrounded by two beautiful women, Sid wasn't going to complain about the seating arrangements. He said, "This is nice."

"Yes, it is," Sally agreed.

"What were you talking about before I came in?" Alice asked hoping to get a little conversation going.

"We were talking about what I was doing on Earth before coming here," Sid answered.

Alice smiled and said, "A stud like you must have a harem of women there."

Shaking her head sadly, Sally said, "He doesn't and I don't understand why. I mean, who could possibly resist such a great lover. Women should be lined up at his door."

"I'm shocked," Alice said. Any man who was sexually active at all had dozens of women at his beck and call back on Cassandra.

"The women on Earth don't have the same sex drive as the women on Cassandra," Sid said finding the topic of their discussion amusing.

"You poor man. Earth must be a very miserable place if the women aren't interested in sex," Alice said. The dismay in her voice was obvious.

"It's not that they aren't interested in sex; they just aren't as interested in it as the women of Chaos," Sid said.

"I know that I'm rather demanding, but my desire is that not far out of line," Alice said wondering just how little interest women of Earth had in sex. She couldn't imagine not wanting to jump any man who showed some form of sexual prowess. That thought brought a frown to her face. She realized that her enthusiasm probably kept her from some opportunities.

Sid looked over at Alice and said, "On Earth, a man who acted like you would be considered a rapist."

"What do you mean?"

"A man who forces his attentions on a woman that isn't ready for them is considered a rapist," Sid answered.

"Like that could ever happen," Alice said with a snort of disbelief. It was impossible for a woman not to want a man.

"Like it didn't happen for you in Chaos?" Sid asked.



-------

Chapter 40


Alice dashed into the room and announced, "I'm pregnant!"

Sid and Sally looked over at her. Sid realized that he was about to lose another lover. Sally smiled at the good news and said, "Congratulations."

"Yes, congratulations," Sid said remembering his manners. It hurt to think about another child of his out there that he wouldn't have a part in parenting. It still seemed wrong to him somehow.

"I've got to go now. Thank you, Sid. You're an amazing man," Alice said looking down at the floor feeling a little embarrassed at all that she had done while fixated on sex with Sid.

"You're quite a woman," Sid replied with a smile.

"Thanks, Sally," Alice said.

"You're welcome," Sally answered. She watched as Alice ran to the door to share the news back on Cassandra. She turned to Sid and said, "You have to go now."

Feeling that sick feeling grow in his stomach, Sid said, "I love you."

Sally helped Sid get to the portal. As she pushed him through the door, she said, "Maybe next time you can bring Cynthia."

The door closed behind Sid before he had a chance to say a word. He stepped out of closet and found that he was face to face with Cynthia. She didn't look happy. The next thing he knew was that she had slapped him across the face as hard as she could. She shouted, "How dare you!"

"What?"

"You were telling me the truth!" she shouted despite the fact that telling the truth wasn't really something that people normally considered to be a bad thing.

"Huh?" He wondered if he had forgotten something important from when he had left for Crossroads. Three years was a long time to be gone.

Cynthia looked at him furious and said, "You told me the truth knowing that I wouldn't believe you!"

Stunned at the twisted logic coming out of her mouth, Sid asked, "What are you talking about?"

"There really is a planet called Crossroads and another called Chaos. You went there and slept with all of those beautiful women. You left me here," Cynthia said stamping her foot on the floor. She crossed her arms and stared at Sid as if challenging him to deny it.

"I invited you to go with me," Sid said stepping back when it looked like she was going to slap him again.

She glared at him and said, "How was I supposed to know that such a wild story was actually true?"

Feeling a thread of anger welling up in him, Sid answered, "Because I told it to you and I've never lied to you about anything."

"I know," Cynthia said collapsing onto the floor and bursting out in tears. He had told her the truth and the only one she could blame for not believing him was herself.

It broke Sid's heart to watch her crying like that. She looked positively miserable. He knelt down and hugged her. Softly he said, "We can begin your training anytime you want."

"I don't know if I want that," Cynthia said. The entire time that Sid had been gone, she had only been thinking about what he was doing. As far as she was concerned, he had spent the entire time making love to women.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I don't know," Cynthia said even as she started crying again.

-------

It had taken some time, but Sid finally managed to get Cynthia calmed down and into the living room. There had been several moments when he was sure that she was going to storm out of the house out of anger, but she had stayed. Handing her a cup of tea, he said, "Drink this. It will help you calm down."

Taking a sip of the tea, Cynthia decided that she wanted to know all of the gory details about his time with the women. Knowing those details would help her decide what she was going to do about this situation. She had liked Sid except for his obsession with that fantasy world, but discovering that it wasn't an overactive imagination had cast her feelings for him in doubt. Looking over at him, she said, "Tell me about your adventure."

"I'm afraid that it is going to take a long time to tell you all of it," Sid said wondering if she would stay to hear the entire thing.

"Why? You were only gone fifteen minutes," Cynthia said. That was just long enough for a fast in and out with some strange women.

"I was gone for three years," Sid answered. He looked over at the clock and realized that he didn't remember his schedule for the upcoming week. Trying to remember his daily schedule after three years was a challenge. Shaking his head, he said, "Remind me to look up my class schedule."

"Three years?" Cynthia asked starting to get angry again. He didn't look three years older.

"Yes. I lead an army to war. It took two and a half years to win the war and establish order before I left," Sid answered.

Frowning, Cynthia said, "Tell me about it. Start from the moment you left here."

"Well, Sally Caretaker was waiting for me when I stepped through the portal. She was very disappointed that you didn't come with me. She even had created an outfit for you to wear," Sid said.

It was impossible to ignore the affection with which Sid spoke Sally's name. Cynthia asked, "Why was she disappointed and what kind of outfit did she create for me?"

"I guess I have to tell you a little more about the women of Cassandra for you to understand why she was disappointed that you didn't come," Sid said not really answering the question.

"Okay, tell me about the women of Cassander, but first tell me what kind of outfit she created for me," Cynthia said. She figured it was going to be something that would make her look like a frump. Women could be such bitches when it came to fighting over a man.

"Well, she was wearing a loin clothe that came down to her knees. The loin clothe was transparent and embroidered with gold thread. It was held up with a gold chain around her waist. Other than that, she was naked. She had an identical outfit for you," Sid answered.

"Huh?" Cynthia said imagining what the other woman must have looked like if she was willing to compete on the basis of a body to body competition.

"Yes, it was very sexy. I'm sure you would have looked fantastic in it," Sid said hoping the compliment would take a little of the ice out of her voice.

"I seriously doubt it," Cynthia said.

"Why do you say that?" Sid asked looking over at her. She was a well built woman and he didn't see any obvious flaws in her body.

"Women don't act that way. She's going to do everything in her power to make me look ugly and awful in your eyes," Cynthia said.

Sid laughed at the comment and shook his head. He said, "You really don't understand the women of Cassandra."

"I know women," Cynthia said.

"She's so proud that I have you in my life. Her only disappointment is that we haven't been intimate yet," Sid said. All of the Damsels had commented on that.

"She's just saying that," Cynthia said.

Shaking his head, Sid said, "No. She really means it. Did you know that there are actually television shows and magazines devoted to Heroes from Earth? From what I understand, they are pretty steamy with blow by blow accounts of the Damsel's experience with the Hero. The fact that I actually have a girlfriend who is considering coming on an adventure with me as a Hero Companion is big news."

"What?" Cynthia asked sitting up and staring at Sid.

"Yes. It turns out that very few Heroes have brought a Hero Companion to Chaos with them. There have been a couple of Hero Apprentices, but that's a different thing altogether," Sid said.

"So you are telling me that she wants us to be intimate and that all of Cassander will hear about it," she said.

"It's Cassandra, not Cassander. And the answer to your question is yes. If you step through that portal with me, she's going to want to know all of the details about your sex life so that she can brag about it," Sid said.

"Brag? You mean use it against me," Cynthia said having a difficult time believing a word he was saying. Of course, the last time she had not believed him, he had been proven to be telling the truth.

"Yes, she'll want to brag about it," Sid said knowing that Cynthia didn't believe him. He sighed and said, "Let me tell you a little about the women of Cassandra."

For the next hour Sid regaled her with stories about the obsession with sex demonstrated by the women of Cassandra. He described how Laura Author was continually playing matchmaker around the camp. More than one young woman had a fun filled evening as a result of Laura's meddling. Cynthia listened to the stories Sid told. At first, she didn't believe him, but the sheer quantity of details about what the women said and did eroded her doubts.

Sid slowly transitioned to telling her about his campaign. She laughed at the stories about Barson, Olaf, and Albert. She cried when she learned about how Sid had helped Fred bury Sandra Lawyer. It took some time to appreciate what it meant when Fred had sworn service to Sid, but once she realized the importance of it she was amazed that Sid had been able to command that kind of loyalty.

The storytelling session paused while Sid prepared a nice meal. While they were eating, he described the kinds of meals he had eaten while on the road. It seemed strange to her to have cheese and meat for breakfast. The idea that eggs were a luxury item while traveling with a medieval army was very surprising. It was as if he was telling her about another world completely. It dawned on her that was exactly what he was doing.

After cleaning up the dishes, Sid took her back to the living room for an after dinner coffee. Although she had come to appreciate his manners, it always took her by surprise at the attention he paid her when she visited. Visiting Sid required a few minutes for her to remember her manners and to act in an appropriate fashion.

Sid was about to tell of the treachery of the enemy when the doorbell rang. Looking in the general direction of the door in surprise, he stood and said, "Excuse me while I get the door."

"Of course," Cynthia answered.

Sid walked over to the front door and opened it. His mother was standing at the door looking around at the property. With a frown on her face, she said, "Give me some money."

"Hello, Mother," Sid said unsurprised by her rudeness.

"I need a thousand dollars," she said trying to look around him to see the interior of the house. She was positive that Gerald had to have left Sid with a small fortune stashed away inside the house somewhere.

"I'm sure you do," Sid said blocking the doorway with his body.

"Well," his mother said looking at him.

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to get your checkbook?" she asked holding out her hand and rubbing her fingers together.

"No, ma'am," Sid answered.

"You owe us," his mother said.

"I owe you nothing, Mother. I paid rent when I lived at your house. You sold some of my possessions when I was in Iraq. I owe you nothing," Sid said looking at her levelly.

"I'm your mother!" she screamed.

"If you have nothing else to say, I ask politely that you leave my property," Sid said looking around at the neighbors. The old man across the street was watching the drama unfold.

"I'm not leaving until I get a check," his mother said.

"Please leave," Sid said.

"You're an ungrateful little bastard. You're just like Gerald sitting here with all of that money and not helping out your family," she said. Her voice kept rising until it was nearly a shout.

Shaking his head, Sid knew better than to argue with his mother. She wouldn't be satisfied until he was broke and even then would insist that he find some way to get her more money. It hadn't taken her long to spend all of her inheritance. In a calm even voice, he said, "Please leave now or I'll be forced to call the police. You are disturbing the peace."

"I'll give you disturbing the police..." she shouted.

Sid stepped back and closed the door. He counted to ten while listening to her scream at the door. Adopting all of the control he could muster, he went into the living room and faced Cynthia. In a soft voice, he said, "Excuse me while I take care of an unpleasant situation."

Having heard the entire discussion, Cynthia said, "Don't worry about me."

Sid called the police and waited for them to show up. His mother had gone to her car and was blowing the horn to get his attention. She'd blow the horn for fifteen seconds and then shout at the house for him to come out with his checkbook. Sid waited patiently for the noise to come to an end.

Cynthia watched the situation through the living room window. The crazed women immediately got into a fight when the police arrived. It started with her screaming and then escalating into a slap. At that point, the police wrestled her to the ground and cuffed her.

There was a knock on the door and Sid went to answer it. On opening the door, he said, "I'm sorry to have to call you out here on a nice night like tonight, Officer."

The officer looked back at his partner wrestling the woman into the back of the patrol car. He hated domestic quarrels, but this one had a different feel than most. It took him a moment to recall that he'd had to take away another angry woman from this house a couple of months earlier. Looking back at Sid, he said, "It's my job. Now tell me what happened here."

Sid gave a very straightforward account of the events in an easy pace. He didn't embellish. He didn't talk about his feelings in the matter. It was just a sequence of facts detailing what she did and what he did. The officer wrote down the details without having to ask any questions. He wished that more people could detail the facts in such a good organized manner. When Sid finished, he asked, "Is there anyone who can collaborate your version of events?"

"Yes. The old man across the street witnessed the entire thing," Sid answered. He pointed to the old man who had been joined by a crowd of neighbors interested in the events.

"Thank you. If you'll stay here, I'll go talk to him," the officer said.

Sid sat down on the step and watched the officer walk over to the old man. To him, it had been three years since his uncle had died, but the actual amount of time was closer to three months. It amazed him that his mother had blown through the inheritance in that short period of a time. It wasn't long before the officer returned and said, "He verified your version of the story."

"Of course," Sid said.

"We're taking her to the station. She'll be charged with disturbing the peace, assaulting an officer, and resisting arrest. Do you wish to charge her with trespassing?"

Sid shook his head and said, "No. I'll be in touch with my lawyer and have a restraining order put on her."

"She's your mother," the officer said raising an eyebrow.

Shrugging his shoulders, he asked, "What would you do if your mother demanded everything that you owned so that she could drive around in a sports car, bask in a spa, and buy dresses that she only wears once?"

"My mother wouldn't do that," the officer said reacting to the suggestion that his mother was a gold digger.

"My mother has done that my entire life. She'll stand in front of this house demanding that I hand over money until I have none left. Then she'll demand that I sell what I have. When that's gone, she'll tell me to get a loan," Sid said looking at the patrol car that held his mother. Shaking his head, he said, "She cleaned me out when I was in Iraq. She sold everything I owned while I was off defending this country. Never again will she get a dime from me."

"Shit, I don't blame you," the officer said disgusted at what he had heard. It was wrong for anyone to take advantage of a soldier like that. He looked down at his notes and said, "I don't need anything more from you. We'll be going, now."

Sid returned to the house and entered the living room. Cynthia had heard almost the entire discussion between Sid and the Officer. It was hard to believe that growing up with someone like his mother that he was able to treat women civilly. Looking a little uncomfortable, Sid said, "I'm sorry about that little bit of unpleasantness."

"I understand that you had to take care of the situation," Cynthia said. She looked at him for a second and then asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I appreciate the offer to vent, but I'm not all that upset by it," Sid said. Three years away from his family had given him an entirely new perspective about them. He had seen his mother with the same detachment he would have with a total stranger.

Cynthia nodded her head and decided that it was better to drop the subject. She said, "You were about to tell me something concerning some guy by the name of Hunter."

"Ah, yes," Sid said. He sat back and started telling about Hunter's campaign. She felt the appropriate level of indignation when she heard about the treachery of Holland. Much to her credit, she didn't have a problem with Sid's act of justice.

-------

Cynthia had listened to Sid's stories about his adventure for the entire evening. Images of him charging into battle with his sword swinging seemed to do something for her. It was the kind of masculine image that many women found impossible to resist — a dangerous man who could act with violence while staying on the right side of good. It was the same image that drew women to a man in uniform. In short, his stories were turning her on.

Sid looked over at the clock and said, "Wow, I didn't realize that it was so late."

Cynthia glanced at the clock and saw that it was after ten. She licked her lips trying to decide what to do. It seemed as if the entire world had stopped. There was a roaring in her ears. Her heart beat fast and it seemed hard to breath. Looking nervously over at Sid, she asked, "Should I tell my mother that I'll be home in the morning?"

The question surprised Sid. Despite the nature of the question, he recognized that it didn't necessarily mean that she was offering to sleep with him. Of course, he couldn't ignore the suggestion. Recovering, he said, "That would be nice. You can use the telephone in the kitchen."

"That would be fine," she said feeling inordinately pleased with her bold move.

Standing up, Sid said, "Allow me to show you the way to the telephone."

"Thank you," Cynthia said. She gave an extra little wiggle to her walk on the way to the telephone. She had a feeling that she was going to be one happy woman by the time morning rolled around.


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The End
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Posted:  2006-04-30
Last Modified: 2007-06-09 / 11:34:00 am
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http://storiesonline.net/
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