March Upcountry

"I always wondered why we did this in training." She laughed, and jumped off the cliff.

The company began to pour fire down on the scummy positions surrounding the sewage ditch bridgehead as the gu

"Ta-Da!" she said with a grin, and pulled the rifle off her back.

"Gu

"Where's Moseyev and the scummy?" she asked as Pentzikis came off the rope, followed by St. John (M.). The latter had a rope trailing out of his rucksack and trotted off to the north, flipping it up and out of the river's current as he went.

"They're somewhere over there," Macek said, pointing south. "They're not responding anymore."

"Okay." The NCO looked around as more and more of the remnants of her platoon came down the rope. "Dokkum, Kileti, Gravdal—go find Moseyev and Denat." She waved to the south. "The rest of you, follow me!"

Roger's sword lopped the head off the spear as it thrust at him and opened up the scummy's chest on the backstroke. He spun in place to take the one grappling with Despreaux in the back, and then took the arm off of one fleeing towards the smashed-in door.

The wounded Mardukan slipped on the pool of blood which covered most of the floor and slid into the pile of bodies barricading the door. He started to scramble up again, but before he could, Captain Pahner took off his head with a single powerful blow of the broad, cleaverlike short sword he carried.

Roger straightened up, panting, and looked out over the city. The sounds of fighting carried clearly up to the balcony.

"We should have figured out how to smuggle in ropes. We could have gotten them in with the camping gear."

"No way." Despreaux disagreed, jerking hard to retrieve her own sword from the Mardukan in whose ribs it had wedged. "They were looking for stuff like that." She looked over at the remnants of the squad in one corner of the balcony. "How you doin'?"

"Oh, just fine, Sergeant," Kyrou said. He gestured at the securely trussed up king. "His Majesty's a bit put out, but we're fine."

"Right," Pahner said. "We may be low on ammunition, but that was too close. Next time we use the rifles and pistols as our primary weapons." He waved the remaining team to the door. "Your turn to cover."

Roger wiped at his face with a sleeve, trying to get some of the blood off, but his sleeve was even more sodden than his face.

"Anybody got a hankie?" he asked. "Yuck."

"Captain," Damdin shouted. "We've got movement!"

"Check-fire," the sergeant major called from the landing. She peeked around the corner until she had the corporal in sight, then stumped wearily up to the top of the stairs. "Check-fire, Damdin. The cavalry has arrived."

"Great," Roger said, looking at the sergeant major. She was just as blood-covered as he was. "So what took you so long?"

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Roger glanced at the fresh bloodstains on the floor as he approached the throne. Some things never seemed to change in Marshad, he reflected. Or not, at least, without a little nudge from the outside.

"Tinker!" He smiled at the throne's new occupant. "You seem to have come up in the world."

Kheder Bijan did not return his expression of pleasure.

"You are to bow to a ruler, Prince Roger," he said. "I would suggest that you get used to it."

"You know," Roger said, glancing at the full platoon of Marines behind him, "I can understand how Radj Hoomas made the mistake of underestimating us, but I'm surprised at you. Surely you don't think you can bully us? Although, if you really are that stupid, I imagine that explains why we haven't received any of our agreed upon equipment yet. You were supposed to have the barleyrice, dianda, and shields to us three days ago, Bijan. Where are they?"

"You humans are so incredibly arrogant," the new ruler observed. "Do you think that we're simple provincials? That there was only one javelin in the quiver? Fools. You're all fools."

"Perhaps," Roger said with a thin smile. "But we're starting to be angry fools, Bijan. Where's our gear?"

"You're not getting any gear, human," the ruler snorted. "Nor are you going anywhere. I have far too much to do to lose my most important contingent of troops. Become accustomed to these walls."

Roger cocked his head and smiled quizzically.

"Okay, what neat trick do you have up your sleeve now, spy?" he asked brightly.

"You will address me as 'Your Majesty,' human! Or I will withhold the antidote to the miz poison you ate the first night you were here!"

"Unfortunately, we didn't have any poison," and Roger told him. "I'm fairly sure of that. For one thing, we're still alive."

"It was in your dishes at the banquet," the former spy scoffed. "It is visible as small flecks of leaf, but it's virtually tasteless. And it only takes one dose. Only a fool would have missed it, but you ate it nonetheless. Since then, we've been keeping you alive with the antidote. If you don't have it, you'll die, basik!"

"Hold it," and Roger said, thinking back. "Little green leaves? Taste like raw sewage?"

"They're tasteless," Bijan said. "But, yes, they would have been bright green."

"Uh-huh," and Roger said, trying not to smile. "And, let me guess—the antidote has been in all the food you've been giving us since, right?"

"Correct," Bijan sneered. "And if you don't have it, you'll die. It starts within a day, but it takes days of agony to end. So I suggest that you avoid it at all costs. But enough discussion of this, we must plan the next conquest and—"

"I don't think so," Roger interrupted with a chuckle. "Haven't you been keeping up with recent news, Bijan?"

"What are you talking about?" the new ruler asked. "I've been doing many things..." he continued suspiciously.

"But obviously not keeping up with who's been cooking my meals for the last few days," Roger purred like a smiling tiger.

Bijan gazed at him for a few seconds, then gestured to one of the guards standing by the throne. There was a brief, whispered discussion, and the guard left.

"Sir," Julian said, leaning forward behind Roger, "is this a good idea?"

"Yeah, it is." Roger never took his eyes off of Kheder Bijan. "In fact, send somebody to collect up T'Leen Sul. That seems like a capable family. Oh, and tell Captain Pahner that it looks like we're going to be staying a little longer then we'd pla

He stopped talking as the guard returned to the throne room. The guardsman crossed to the new ruler and said a few words, and Roger had become sufficiently familiar with Mardukan body language to tell Bijan was suddenly one worried scummy.

The new king turned to the prince and placed his true-hands on the arms of the throne.

"Uh..."

"We're not Mardukans, Bijan," and Roger told him with a deliberately Mardukan laugh. "In fact, I'll tell you a little secret, Tinker. We're not from anywhere on this planet. We have no similarity to anything on it, we're not vulnerable to the same poisons you are, and we most especially aren't basik."

"Ah, Prince Roger, there seems—" the ruler began.

"Bijan?" Roger interrupted, as the door opened to admit Pahner.

"Yes?"

"Say goodbye, Bijan."