Despoilers of the Golden Empire
Public Domain
Chapter 7
They found, as they penetrated deeper into the savage-infested hinterlands of the Empire of the Great Nobles, that the armor fended off more than just snakes. Hardly a day passed but one or more of the men would hear the sharp spang! of a blowgun-driven dart as it slammed ineffectually against his armored back or chest. At first, some of the men wanted to charge into the surrounding forest, whence the darts came, and punish the sniping aliens, but the commander would have none of it.
“Stick together,” he ordered. “They’ll do worse to us if we’re split up in this jungle. Those blowgun darts aren’t going to hurt you as long as they’re hitting steel. Ignore them and keep moving.”
They kept moving.
Around them, the jungle chattered and muttered, and, occasionally, screamed. Clouds of insects, great and small, hummed and buzzed through the air. They subsided only when the drizzling rains came, and then lifted again from their resting places when the sun came out to raise steamy vapors from the moist ground.
It was not an easy march. Before many days had passed, the men’s feet were cracked and blistered from the effects of fungus, dampness, and constant marching. The compact military marching order which had characterized the first few days of march had long since deteriorated into a straggling column, where the weaker were supported by the stronger.
Three more men died. One simply dropped in his tracks. He was dead before anyone could touch him. Insect bite? Disease? No one knew.
Another had been even less fortunate. A lionlike carnivore had leaped on him during the night and clawed him badly before one of his companions blasted the thing with a power weapon. Three days later, the wounded man was begging to be killed; one arm and one leg were gangrenous. But he died while begging, thus sparing any would-be executioner from an unpleasant duty.
The third man simply failed to show up for roll call one morning. He was never seen again.
But the rest of the column, with dauntless courage, followed the lead of their commander.
It was hard to read their expressions, those reddened eyes that peered at him from swollen, bearded faces. But he knew his own face looked no different.
“We all knew this wasn’t going to be a fancy-dress ball when we came,” he said. “Nobody said this was going to be the easiest way in the world to get rich.”
The commander was sitting on one of the carriers, his eyes watching the men, who were lined up in front of him. His voice was purposely held low, but it carried well.
“The marching has been difficult, but now we’re really going to see what we’re made of.
“We all need a rest, and we all deserve one. But when I lie down to rest, I’m going to do it in a halfway decent bed, with some good, solid food in my belly.
“Here’s the way the picture looks: An hour’s march from here, there’s a good-sized village.” He swung partially away from them and pointed south. “I think we have earned that town and everything in it.”
He swung back, facing them. There was a wolfish grin on his face. “There’s gold there, too. Not much, really, compared with what we’ll get later on, but enough to whet our appetites.”
The men’s faces were beginning to change now, in spite of the swelling.
“I don’t think we need worry too much about the savages that are living there now. With God on our side, I hardly see how we can fail.”
He went on, telling them how they would attack the town, the disposition of men, the use of the carriers, and so forth. By the time he was through, every man there was as eager as he to move in. When he finished speaking, they set up a cheer:
“For the Emperor and the Universal Assembly!”
The natives of the small village had heard that some sort of terrible beings were approaching through the jungle. Word had come from the people of the forest that the strange monsters were impervious to darts, and that they had huge dragons with them which were terrifying even to look at. They were clad in metal and made queer noises as they moved.
The village chieftain called his advisers together to ponder the situation. What should they do with these strange things? What were the invaders’ intentions?
Obviously, the things must be hostile. Therefore, there were only two courses open--fight or flee. The chieftain and his men decided to fight. It would have been a good thing if there had only been some Imperial troops in the vicinity, but all the troops were farther south, where a civil war was raging over the right of succession of the Greatest Noble.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.