The Flying Warlord Read online

  “I pulled the signal strings again and five more lances from each platoon went out, leaving only the gunners behind. I put a big white rocket in the launcher to be ready in case of any commotion, but I rested back with my telescope for about an hour and let the men do what they were trained for. They were going through the enemy camp, wreaking any silent mayhem they could do, and that was a lot. Those boys went out with six garrotes each, and they all complained later that they could have used more.”

  “There was a lot of knife work, too. You take sleeping troops a tent at a time, cut every throat at the same instant without a sound, then go on to the next tent. The trick is to get men on their stomachs laying all around the tent, ready to go under it. Then one man walks in the front door, calm as he can, and lights a pocket lighter. Before the sleepers know what’s happening, they all have an extra mouth and the light goes out. It takes training and practice, but any job worth doing is worth doing right. I could see quick flashes as tents lit up for a moment and then were dark.”

  “There were enemy troops up and around, but our men was all walking natural and they weren’t much noticed. Those Mongols must have had fifty different kinds of people there, and didn't none of them speak the same language. They all figured that if you was in the camp, you must be on their side, so they each had to learn different on their own. It stayed quiet for the longest time.”

  “One of the rules was that the most important men in the camp usually had the biggest tents, and these were usually in the center of the camp. When there are more than a dozen in a tent, it gets pretty hard to kill them all without somebody on one side or another making a noise, so doctrine was to frag the big tents. Course, the big ones often had sentries of their own, a sure tip-off that you was in officer country, so the sentries had to be taken out first, but we were pretty good at that sort of thing. When a man’s upright, a garrote's the thing to use.”

  “You could always roll a grenade under a tent, but the effect was better if it was up off the ground. The best way was to slit the tent, put in the grenade dangling from a string with a fish hook on the end and with the wick hanging outside, and then light it with your pocket lighter when the signal went up.”

  “It was still awfully quiet down there and I checked the traveling clock we had with us. Yeah, it had been over an hour, and it was one of Conrad’s double-sized hours at that. Some of the boys would be getting real antsy about now, so it was time for the fireworks.”

  “I lit off the big white rocket flare, which exploded pretty white streamers over the enemy camp so nobody could miss it.”

  “In a few seconds, there were explosions all over the Mongol camp, and most especially in the center of it, I was pleased to note.”

  “I sat back for another two-twelfths of an hour watching the mayhem through my telescope. The boys were really ripping them up. Each man had had two small four-pound grenades in his pack, as well as a big twelve-pounder, and didn’t none of that ordinance get carried back to our firing line.”

  “As the first of our men got back, puffing and running with the big white crosses they’d opened up on their chests so our gunners would know not to shoot them, I started pulling on the signal strings again. The gunners generally let loose with a few rifle grenades first, in part to start some additional fires to shoot by, but mostly because they didn't get to shoot them very often, except for dummies, and they're kind of fun.

  “A few fires were started near a horse park and that attracted some gunfire until the surviving horses stampeded through the Mongol camp and out of sight.”

  “More and more of our men were making it back, but the Mongols themselves hadn’t acted like we was here yet. One of my worst nightmares had the enemy and our men running out all mixed together, and the gunners having to shoot them all down or be killed themselves. But that didn't happen. The enemy was real slow on the uptake. Me, I figure that was caused by the way we killed most of their officers, but there ain't no way to prove it. Only it figures, you know?”

  “We were almost all back, those that were coming back, anyway, before the invaders got together enough to attack us. There was thousands of them on horseback, all yelling and screaming and running into each other, since they had the muzzle flashes coming in at them and that will blind a man or beast in the dark.”

  “Then we started doing jerk-fire shooting. That’s where each gunner fires just after the man to his left does. This lets him aim by the muzzle flashes of the guns that just went off, so the field is almost perfectly lit up. But the men out there that you're shooting at look like they're jumping and jerking around real funny. Conrad explained it to me once, but I never did figure out what he was talking about.”

  “From out in front of it, when you’re being shot at, it's just plain scary. It looks like there's these big bright moving things streaking from your right to your left, and there isn't a horse that will stay around it. Them that wasn't dead took off and their riders went with them.”

  “After that, they tried charging us on foot, but we shot that one up just as bad or even a little worse. There was dead bodies as thick as a carpet from their camp to almost our lines. I tell you that a man could have walked on dead Mongols the whole way and never stepped on the ground, they was that thick.”

  “But we were getting low on ammunition and dawn wasn’t that far away. If they knew how few of us there was, they could have walked all over us, and anyhow, I told the hetman that nobody would see us coming back. I signaled a pullout.”

  “Slow burning flares were stuck into the ground in front of our positions, to maybe make them think we was still there. Then we pulled out in the reverse order that we came, and some of the gunners kept on firing right up to the end. We were halfway back, walking in the rain, when I got the butcher’s bill. Four hundred fifty-five missing and likely dead, and damn few wounded. Well, in that kind of a fight, if you were hurt bad, you just didn't get out. We lost a whole lot less than I thought we would, but even so, odds were that a lot of those men still out there were friends of mine.”

  “That same sentry was there when we got back near camp. I guess the duke’s men weren't much on relieving the night guard.”

  “You didn’t get the beer!” he says.

  “Naw, the place was closed.”

  “Damn shame. Maybe we’ll have some left over for you.”

  “You’d better.” What a dumbshit, I thought.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SIR VLADIMIR CHARNETSKI

  I talked to Baron Ilya in the cold rain at dawn. He reported a successful mission and requested more ammunition, most of his being exhausted. I put his little carts in back of the north line as a backup in case we were attacked there on the wrong side. He could scrounge ammunition from the carts near him, but I didn’t want to do anything official about replenishing him, not when I had just disobeyed a direct order from the duke.

  The radios were still picking up nothing but static, so I had all but two of them packed away, and their crews put on the battle line. I didn’t know what was happening on the Vistula or in the rest of the country, but I told myself that it wasn't important now. This day's business could be done with horns and signal flags. The worth of all that I had done in the last five years would be decided today in the time of a few hours and the space of a few square miles.

  We ate a hot breakfast in the dark, and the camp city was quickly taken down. Everything not essential to combat was packed neatly on the ground. The carts were empty except for arms, ammunition, and a light lunch.

  I led the men in the sunrise service, even though we couldn’t see the sun, and we moved out.

  I’d picked the spot for the ambush carefully. It was a long, low valley with a small creek running down the center. The hills were gentle enough so that our war carts could be easily pulled over them, but they provided enough of a backdrop so that the carts would not be too obvious against a skyline. The valley averaged a mile wide and was ten miles long.
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br />   As each war cart got into position, the top was taken off, spare pike shafts were set into the armored side of the cart, and the yard-and-a-half wide-armored top was slung out to one side as a shield for the pikers. The four great, caster-mounted wheels were unlocked from their fore and aft traveling position and locked spread out to the sideways moving combat position. Pikes and halberds were broken out and distributed. Six gunners climbed in each cart and mounted their weapons. The thirty-six pikers and axemen snapped into their pulling harnesses and tugged the cart into its final position. Well coordinated, this took less than a minute. Then they stood and waited in the rain.

  Our war carts stretched more than six miles along on each side of the valley and flared out at the end like a funnel mouth, two miles across. Sentries were posted behind us and the Big People were scouting to insure that we wouldn’t be taken unawares. We were all in position by midmorning, and then there was nothing to do but wait.

  Duke Boleslaw’s horsemen had left at dawn, and I was worried about them. They were such a disorganized mass that I wasn't sure whether they could all stay together enough to get a decent charge at the enemy. But there was nothing I could do but wait and worry.

  I was worried about Count Conrad as well. I hadn’t heard from him in days, what with the problems with the radios, and in this rain, the planes couldn't fly safely, so I lacked that source of information as well. Until the day before, I had always known what was happening. Now, just as all things were coming to a climax, I was suddenly all alone. It seems strange to say that, since I had about me the finest and largest army in Christendom, but it was true.

  After an hour of tense waiting, I saw one of our planes flying low toward us from the north, and then I saw another right behind it. Soon, there were twenty of them, and they circled low over the valley. Then they proceeded to land!

  This was crazy! Planes landed only at Eagle Nest! Anywhere else and they couldn’t take off again! Not unless we built a catapult on the spot. Furthermore, they had landed in the very place where we were expecting a horde of Mongols to come charging in at any moment! Those planes were a big sign that said “Mongol, run away!”

  I had my Big Person, Betty, run me down to the first plane that had landed, its propeller still spinning and its engine making enough noise to scare away a saint.

  “What the Hell are you doing here?” I shouted.

  The engine stopped and Count Lambert got out, wearing his gold-plated armor.

  “Baron Vladimir, fortunately I couldn’t hear that, but you must learn to speak more politely to your betters,” he said.

  “But my lord, you have landed right in the middle of an ambush! The Mongols could be coming in any time now!”

  “No, it will be another half-hour at the least. We saw them fighting Duke Boleslaw’s men three or four miles from here. But have your men move these planes if they are in the way. Don't worry about hurting them, they'll never fly again. Be careful of the engines. They're expensive and they can be salvaged.”

  All of this made no sense to me, but I galloped to our lines and gave the necessary orders to get those planes hidden. By the time I got back to the count, a squire had ridden out leading two dozen war horses, all saddled and ready for combat. This crazy stunt had been planned!

  “My lord, what is all this about?” I said.

  Lambert put on a red-and-white surcoat and swung into the saddle. “About? Well, you could hardly expect us to miss the final battle, could you? For over a week now, we’ve been in the air, watching you and Conrad garner all the glory while we could only look on! We have taken some heavy losses doing it, too! You see those twenty planes there? Well, there were forty-six of them to start!”

  “That many? What happened to them?”

  “Three crashed on landing at Eagle Nest. Two were seen flying too low over the enemy and were brought down by arrows. One flew into a thundercloud and we found the pieces later. The rest, we don’t know. They just didn't come back.”

  “My God. I didn’t realize it was that bad, my lord. But why leave the rest of them here? Surely you can't fly them out of here!”

  “No, of course not. But don’t you see? They're not needed anymore! They've done their job! The Mongols are all here. The army is here. The whole affair will be settled right here! If we are to get our share of the glory, we have to get it now! As to the planes, well, we have wood, glue, and cloth in abundance. We can build more later.”

  “But, but does Count Conrad know of this?”

  “Who gives a damn about Conrad? Look, boy, Conrad is sworn to me, not me to him! But just now there’s a battle to get to. The plan's still the same? Lead them through here, then come back in a bit for the kill?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Good!” He waved to his mounted aviators. “Let’s go! To war!”

  And they rode out of the valley.

  Maybe the planes weren’t needed, but as I saw it, things were still very much afloat. Who could tell what we would need and what we would not! I was almost glad that the radios weren't working. I would have hated to have to report this piece of insanity to Count Conrad!

  We got the planes cleared away and hidden, and then it was wait and worry time again.

  It was approaching noon, and I was wondering if I should feed the men when an outrider on one of the Big People came and reported that the battle was coming our way. I signaled “Ready” and “Hide,” and could see the lines tighten up, the pikes drop, and the flag poles go down as soon as the message was relayed.

  After a while, I could see our horsemen coming in exactly as planned, if a little late. They were in surprisingly good order, all things considered, and Duke Boleslaw himself was at their head, surrounded by his youthful group of friends. He was going a bit slower than a full frightened gallop, I suppose to insure that all of his men could keep up. A few Mongols had gotten out in front of him, but he wisely ignored them.

  He came right down the middle of the valley, splashing over the little half-frozen creek twice just to keep going in a straight line. The kid was doing good! And after him came the vast horde of the enemy, which outnumbered Boleslaw’s forces by at least twenty-to-one, galloping in a ragged mob and not noticing in the least the army waiting for them! It was working!

  My station was at the mouth of the funnel, and as soon as the last of the Mongols went through, I advanced both our wings to seal it off. As soon as the duke’s men were out of the trap at the other end, my second in command, Baron Gregor Banki, would close the small end and open fire, which would signal us to do the same, and the war would be nearly won!

  The ends of the wings had more than a mile to go to close the gap, so this took a while. As I followed them in, another outrider reported that Count Conrad was arriving with what was left of the river battalion, forty-one war carts out of the two hundred sixteen he’d started with! I sent the man back with an invitation for Conrad to plug the gap in the center. After all that they had done, those men deserved the honor.

  This delayed things a bit, but there wasn’t an enemy in sight and I knew we could afford the time. I mounted Betty and rode around to my liege lord. I could safely leave my post because now there wasn't a single thing for me to do! When the shooting started, everybody would join in. I was no longer needed.

  Count Conrad had a dirty bandage over his right eye and he looked horribly tired and old!

  “My lord, it’s good to see you! You look like you need this!” I threw him my wine skin. It wasn't exactly a regulation part of the uniform, but rank has a few privileges.

  “Thank you.” He took a long pull. “Things go as planned?”

  “Perfectly, my lord. We’re only waiting for Gregor to close his end and start shooting. It should be any time now.”

  “Good. We’re out of ammunition. Can you supply some?”

  “Of course, my lord!”

  I gave the orders and runners started coming in with crates of swivel gun rounds. As we waited, I told my liege about Baron Il
ya’s night raid, and about Duke Boleslaw's reaction to it.

  “You did right,” he said. “At least, that’s what I would have done.”

  Then I had to tell the count about his air force, or rather his lack of one.

  “Damn,” he said, looking more weary than ever. “If we live through this, I swear either I’m going to get control of Eagle Nest, or I'm going to build another one.”

  When Conrad’s forces were supplied, we still hadn't heard from the small end of the funnel. Then horsemen started coming at us, but they weren't all Mongols! There were Polish knights mixed in with them, and soon a vast, slashing and hacking free-for-all was going on right before our eyes! Something had gone very, very wrong.

  The signal flags started wagging, sending the same message to us around both sides of the ambush:

  BOLESLAW HAS NOT LEFT THE TRAP, IT SAID. ONE OF HIS YOUNG FRIENDS FELL TO A MONGOL ARROW. BOLESLAW TURNED BACK AT THE LAST INSTANT AND WENT TO AID HIS FRIEND. THE DUKE’S HORSEMEN ALL FOLLOWED THEIR LIEGE BACK INTO THE MONGOL FORCES. THEY ARE NOW ALL MIXED TOGETHER. WE HAVE CLOSED THIS END BUT WE CANNOT SHOOT WITH OUT KILLING OUR OWN MEN. BULLETS GO RIGHT THROUGH ENEMY AND THEN CONTINUE THROUGH OUR MEN WHO ARE BEHIND THEM. WHAT SHOULD I DO?

  GREGOR BANKI.

  “That’s a good question he asks, my lord. What should we do?” I said.

  “I don’t know. What can we do? Nothing, that's what! We just have to let those crazy knights get themselves killed.”

  “Do you want to take command, my lord?”

  “Me? No. This is your show. You do what you think is best. I screwed things up enough on the river. Now it’s your turn.”

  “But I had heard that you had killed vast numbers of the enemy,” I said.

  “Perhaps, but look around you. Of the men I led into battle, not one in five is still fit to march. How can that be called a victory? I made mistakes, many mistakes. You have command here, Vladimir. Try to do better than I did.”