snippet – Page 5

05/18/2024 Snippet, REX FANG-BLADE AND THE ATTACK ON THE GREAT NEST.

Scouting!

Three days later

The books said you could get soldiers to walk twenty miles a day and still have them in some kind of shape to fight at the end of it. The books didn’t say anything about a gaggle of townsfolk and fighters, moving through broken land on foot. Six miles a day was the best they could do, and it was only halfway to Purty.

Rex thought they had made pretty good time, though. “They’re not going to march like soldiers,” he’d told Dallin and Tabetha when they brought up the issue. “We’re moving faster than I thought we would, and nobody fell out.”

“Yeah, well, anybody still alive and free out here is tough,” Dallin shrugged. “That includes the bad guys, sir.” He stared out into the night. It was extra dark, because it was for sure that there weren’t going to be any fires to give them away. “Only… where’s their pickets and scouts? They’re not dumb. They know they got to patrol.”

05/16/2024 Snippet, REX FANG-BLADE AND THE ATTACK ON THE GREAT NEST.

Yeah, a new title really is needed.

“What’s the problem, Hey-You? …That’s still me asking, not scoffing. I figure if you’re worried, there’s a reason.”

Rex stood up from the meeting table, and stood before an old map of Deseret. It didn’t have as much information as they’d like on it — people didn’t exactly stop by Wells to chat, and snakes can’t read or write — but it still showed every place north of Seventy Road and east of the Bonneville Flat that at least had a Dominion garrison. There were far too many of ‘em, not that anybody had asked Tabetha her opinion.

“I’m glad Burning Brand’s dead. He was vile, cruel, and ruthless. He did horrible things when he took… the capital. Even worse ones, as Viceroy. The worst part was, he didn’t even care. His atrocities were carved from ice and indifference. He was a monster of the first order.” For a moment, Rex was clearly somewhere else, and Tabetha’s fingers clenched, looking for a sword-hilt that wasn’t there. Wherever he had gone in his head, it was no place to travel alone.

But he gathered himself. “The problem is, Burning Brand was a smart monster. He knew just how hard to squeeze the towns and cities. A lot, but not enough that they’d decide to die on their feet — or at least, not before that would be more convenient for the Universal Dominion anyway.” Rex shrugged. “The word is, he was forced to take a slow poison. He must have really infuriated the Supreme Archmage with his system.”

05/12/2024 Snippet, REX FANFG-BLADE AND THE ATTACK ON THE GREAT NEST.

Title is clunky.

“That’s gonna happen no matter what, Hey-You. You think the Dominion is gonna decide, ‘Shoot! A bunch of folks in the badlands up and wrecked our base! Guess we shouldn’t go there anymore.’” Tabetha shook her head. “That’s not how those so-and-so’s do things, and you know it.”

“No,” Rex agreed, “it’s not. But every one of those motherless sons we kill first is one more Purty won’t have later to burn out farmers and townsfolk. I’m not going to pretend I don’t know that. That’s not how we do things. Not in Deseret.”

It was the most powerful temptation in the world for Tabetha to throw, There ain’t no Deseret no more! back in Rex’s face, and she wondered later what would have happened if she had. Aside from infuriating Rex no end, naturally, which was one reason why she didn’t. The man was almost supernaturally reasonable, but there were limits.

The other reason was, she didn’t think Deseret was dead. Not yet.

05/11/2024 Snippet, REX FANG-BLADE AND THE RAID ON THE GREAT NEST.

Consequences!

The next day

“We’re running out of time, sir.” Dallin was keeping it respectful, which Tabetha decided was smart of him. Rex hadn’t gone to the ‘vicious bastard’ school of war, but nobody likes to be told they gotta do things they don’t want to do.

Especially when one of your junior officers’ doing it, she decided. Bet he never saw that happen, before the Scourging. He was hiding it real well, but Tabetha could read the signs.

“I’m as concerned about time as you are, Dallin,” Rex responded. “We’re already pushing up the schedule for when we leave to attack Purty, to two weeks from now. What’re your reasons for making it one?” The heck of it was, he actually sounded interested to hear if Dallin had any.

Dallin didn’t hesitate, bless him. “We hit that raiding party too hard, sir. They didn’t just want slaves, they wanted to find out things. Now they’re gonna to find out that if they send out a few guys to Wells, they ain’t coming back. So they’ll send a lotta guys, next time. And they have magic gear now, at least a little.” He shook his head. “I don’t think they’re gonna get weaker, sir. The faster we boot them in the head, the better.”

05/01/2024 Snippet, PICKMAN’S MODELS.

Yeah, back to this.

The mural Reithner was illuminating with her headlamp was… well, it was ugly, and there was no getting around it. It didn’t even have the dubious virtue of technical skill; the artist had pounded and smeared it onto the rock wall using whatever materials were at hand. Possibly literally, Tobias thought as he averted his eyes. You can always get brown and red that way.

“That’s… Steelfang, right?” Buckley growled. “The Red Imperial god of death?”

“One of them, yes,” Tobias replied with utter calm. “He’s also sort of their god of farming. That’s why his mouth looks like a scythe, the better to reap his victims. The cult thinks blood makes the grain grow. Give me a good reason not to burn that damned thing off the wall.”

“We do not have incendiaries.” Reithner sounded hot, rather than cold. “Why did we not bring incendiaries?”

The desire in her voice made Tobias get himself back under control. “Right. Douse that light, Lieutenant. We don’t need to see it any longer.” He took a calming breath. “Lieutenant, Buckley, private circuit.” He waited until they both clicked in to continue. “Give me a good reason not to blow the airlock, and leave.”

05/01/2024 Snippet, REX FANG-BLADE AND THE RAID ON THE GREAT NEST.

Back to this!

“All right,” she told the snake. “Tell Joe they’ve got six guards, three carts, twelve slaves. No sign of riders. I’m scared about that.” She fought back the urge to explain more; the snake would be able to give Desert Joe numbers and nouns, but nothing harder to think of. Even the ‘scared’ thing was because snakes didn’t understand the emotion ‘worried,’ or ‘apprehensive.’ She wasn’t really fearful, but… there should have been riders, dammit. Tabetha didn’t like it when things or people weren’t where they were supposed to be. The last few years hadn’t made her a trustful sort.

At least it was overcast, so she could use the spyglass a bit more freely without fretting over a flash from the lenses. The wagons were what her distant ancestors called ‘Voortrekkers,’ with a high bed and a wire mesh replacing the canvas covers. Tabetha called them ‘damned slaver wagons,’ and right now she was trying to get past that. You needed cool blood for an ambush, on either side.

Dallin crawled up alongside her, careful and quiet. “How many in each wagon?” he asked her, trying to peer himself. “You said twelve, but those sons of bi… so-and-sos love packing ‘em in tight. Four a wagon seems almost nice of ‘em.”

“Six,” Tabetha murmured. “They don’t got anybody in the third wagon. Six men a wagon ain’t too crowded for those bastards either, though. You liking this?”

“Not even a little. Where’s their riders? Without them to screen, we can get right on top of ‘em before they even know we’re here.” Dallin squinted at the carts until Tabetha gave up, and just handed him the spyglass. “They ain’t dumb, though,” he muttered like looking. “They know they’re out with their… rears in the breeze.”

Snippet the Last, FLIM-FLAM MAN

9,794 words. And there’s a novel in there, too.

The hell of it was, it didn’t make any sense to just run away, either. He didn’t know where he was, really, and he didn’t think he was better at sneaking through the woods than bandits were. He was shadowing the road, which at least gave him a chance to hear any bandits first, but they’d be better armed and armored in any confrontation. He couldn’t stay and he couldn’t flee.

You could give the caravan up, he reminded himself. It’d be a horrible thing to do, but what’s one more horrible thing in this world? They’ll let you live if you do. They might even let you go.

No, they won’t, he told himself. Best case, they’ll make me stay to be a bandit, and then a couple months later I’d be just like them. If I wanted that, I’d have done it years ago. Gregor didn’t think he was better than everybody else, but he didn’t want to be worse than regular people, either.

I’m being an idiot, Gregor told/argued with himself. Then he paused. Maybe I am being an idiot. What am I good at, again?

04/28/2024 Snippet, FLIM-FLAM MAN.

Getting to a stopping point! …Yeah, there’s a book in there.

Two nights later

The dream was familiar and strange at the same time, like it had happened before, but he hadn’t kept the memory.

He was in the forest again, right back at the hole in the ground. No sun or moon in the sky, but he could see from the light coming from underground. It wasn’t a bad light — it was green, but the honest green of leaves and living things, not sorcery and chaos — but it wasn’t natural, either. Or at least something else didn’t want it there. The wind itself hissed at the presence of this bright trespasser, and Gregor did not like the way that the light pulsed back. He’d heard of light being ‘angry,’ but thought it was just a saying. At least in the confines of this dream, it was far too real.

At least the light wasn’t angry at him. The wind, though? No, the wind was definitely not on his side, from the way that it was plucking at his limbs and raising the stink of distant mucks in his nostrils —

Gregor jerked awake, to find Seamstress grabbing his arm with one hand, and shushing him with the other. “Quiet!” she murmured, not quite hissing. “Michael needs you.” She swallowed once. “Bandits.”

04/27/2024 Snippet, FLIM-FLAM MAN.

Amulet!

“Yeah. About that.” Michael peered at his chest. “That amulet you’re wearing. It’s gold. Why did the guard give it back to you?”

“I honestly have no idea, good Trader. I suppose he felt some guilt for stealing it?” Gregor essayed a smile, trying not to think about how, no, he really did have no idea why the guard gave it back. Or why it was apparently around his neck now. “I have never felt any power from it. Which at least means it can’t be cursed!”

“Sure, sure. But maybe it’s uncanny anyway.” Michael squinted at Gregor’s chest. “It’s got a tree carved on it. What does that mean? Some new god?” He directed the squint at Gregor’s book. “Or some old one?”

Gregor smiled, inside where it didn’t show. “I can tell you that it is of no new god, Trader Michael. But you guessed this already.” That’s even the truth, Gregor thought. I mean, the guard wasn’t dying from a thief-curse, after all. “As for the lost gods, from a better time?” He sighed, and offered a small smile. “I ma… cannot speak to that.” He reached for the clasp of the amulet, ready to take it off. “But I will understand if you find my amulet worrisome. Would you care to keep it? Or should I simply leave it here, suspended from a tree branch?”

04/23/2024 Snippet, FLOM-FLAM MAN.

Exposition!

Michael’s ‘place’ was a warehouse, currently full of traders, busily packing. They were almost finished, in fact. That alone would have been good news for Gregor; the trade caravans were a profitable way to travel, for a man like him.

What worried him was how they all just assumed he was coming along for the ride. Apparently this ‘Scary Robb’ was nobody to mess with. “He’s been snapping up all the other gangs in Camiron,” the sewer told him as she fixed the cut in his robe. “They say he started right after the priests cut each other to ribbons. Now he’s got the whole gray market in his pockets.”

“A problem for the traders, then?” Gregor asked as he watched the young lady work. She made as tight a stitch on his silk as she had made on his shoulder, earlier, and had even had a little magic to make it not hurt so much. “Too many rules, Seamstress?” You didn’t ask a mage to give her name.