Chapter Four: Fire And Ashes

by Carl E. Mullin ©2020

Her ax dug deep into the earthwork. “Ah!” she yelled as her arm broke her fall. She struggled to climb over the muddy rampart. Her axes bit the earth again and again, pulling her up to her belly onto the crenel.

Her eyes shot up. Men in blue, their eyes livid.

              Her left knee climbed over. Her left arm fell back into its instinct and swung. Howl of pain as a deep gash of red raced across his ripped chest. Her right ax made its mark. She grasped a man and pulled hard, his guts she spiked. She fell into a frenzy. A head geysered red and grey. She kicked off her victim onto the angry mob as more Englishmen appeared onto the ramparts on either side. They diverged the opposition as she breathed hard. Her ax swung with fresh energy, tasting blood.

              More Englishmen climbed to the top in armor and joined the fray. “Captain! We have you covered!”

              “Press on! Press harder, men!”

              The enemy massed fast before her, fury and desperation burning in their eyes. Make space. Make space. She let her ax dangle from her wrist and swung it in a wide arc, its blurring blade biting the air. The men in blue fell back. Time. In a high arc, she swooped down and a yell ended quick as his head split.

              A spear thrust at her. She jumped aside. Her remaining ax swung up. The spear was locked under her ax’s “beard”. She yanked it away from her would-be assassin. Her muddy sole into his face, his ugly reward. Then her ax dug deep into his shoulder to collect her interest as she kicked his friend.

              Her friends at her sides, she rested her ax deep into a kind enemy’s head and snatched up her rope coil. After looping the rope about one of the merlons and fastening it with its c-clamp, she cast its free end down. She waved below, “Come on!” She noticed that the ashes were starting to snow.

              “Captain! Look out!”

              She spun. He eyes rounded wide as something silver and sharp raced at her.

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HMS HENGIST

CIC

              The crew braced themselves as the mighty ship shivered from an impact.

              “We have a hit on the starboard!”

              “Get the DC in there, lad. I want this ship held together!” Colonel Rawlings barked.

              Popova straightened up, “Mr. Mills, status report on Matilda?”

              “Matilda is bombing the base, sir. Due to be finished in five hours max.”

              “Marshal! I have the word from Duke of York. Receiving heavy fire, sir.”

              “Damage?”

              “Extensive, looks like. Captain Aldershot is doing his best but his DC is having a spot of trouble with a fire raging midship just to the fore of the engine.”

              “Inform him to hold on. It will be over soon.”

              “Sir!”

              Admiral Jones leaned over the illuminated table and shook his head, “Ivar Aldershot’s a bold master. There’s not a danger he won’t get into. If he’s worrying about heavy fire, that means York’s in trouble, sir.”

              Wellings nodded, “He’s right, the lad don’t scare easily. We must pull him back to save the ship.”

              Popova looked at the positioning board, comparing York’s position to the enemy fleet. York was far into danger and away from Hengist. He should have stayed with her fleet but they already lost their advantage in altitude. “Negative. York stays in the fight.” She held up her hand as Dolson started to protest. “That’s final. The canal of Nicaragua promised both military and commercial advantage to its possessor once built. The tariffs’ll be rich. Many powers will want to halve their sea travel time. The enemy’ll dig in to avoid losing that. A second attack would require a massive force of men and firepower to dig them out, far more than we already have committed. And the sacred truce will be here soon with the new moon. The law requires a year’s peace which will be used by those atheists to strengthen their hold. A year of inactivity will be very costly to us the second time, gentlemen. We must dislodge him now. Commander Wellings?”

              “Sir?”

              “Order York back to our perimeter. We can cover him some, giving his DC time to control the damage.”

              Wellings protested, “Sir, if that fire blows, it could take out a big part of our task force. We need to have a wide berth, sir. I agree that we can’t pull York out just now but without a care, we’ll be gifting a nice present to those atheists.”

              “A valid point. We must trust Aldershot to the Gods now.”

              “The Gods help us all.”

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OVER LAKE NICARAGUA

              As Puddin swooped across the lake, the tips of his wing treading the waters, Marion rattled the side of a frigate with her big machine guns. Hannah leaned forward, hugging her monster as her eyes focused for any opening while her white scarf snapped in the fast wind. The ashes were starting to fall heavy but she ignored them.

              She saw one and her forward guns blazed onto another frigate protecting its battle group’s right flank. Puddin surged away without a warning. His eyes, sharper than his mistress’s, have seen danger and evaded it. An enemy missile missed her head by a few feet. “Fuck me!” she cried, her heart thumped with cold dread. Love flew again for her mighty mate. Then anger. “Fire the bastards up, Puddin!” The dragon roared in agreement. He turned sharp and roared out his flow of fire onto the top decks of the offending frigate. Screams barely reached her ears as they flew away, her cold wrath satisfied.

              Marion’s guns snapped her back to reality. “Spitfire! Fort Black South!” Hannah turned her goggled eyes southward. She couldn’t see the action. She quieted her mind and willed a connection to her dragon. He let her use his eyes in her mind and she saw a girl with dragonfire hair on the wall. “Dagny,” she whispered.

              The beast knew her heart. Before she could issue an order he twisted in the air and rocketed down. Perfect was their communion, their minds and hearts and bodies united as one unit, a girl and her dragon. She grinned at her mate’s perfect response and felt a deep love for him again. “Let’s help out Dagny, Hammer!”

              Marion loaded her chambers, “Ready when you are, love!”

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FORT BLACK SOUTH

              As the ashes fell, Dagny thrust her hips forward, her back arched as the spear thrust for her. Missed. From behind she grasped the offending shaft and spun. “Ha-ya!” she cried as her hand chopped the shaft. Her elbow cracked his jaws back. With two hands she thrust the broken spear deep between his collarbones.

              She shoved the fresh corpse back onto the increasing number of the single-minded enemy.

              “Captain! Here!”

              She spotted him out of the corner of her eye, a rifle held aloof in his hand. She kicked in some face and spun toward him. The rifle flew. She caught it. Ka-clack! sung the rifle as she loaded it. She aimed. The rifle kicked hard against her shoulder. A face fell, then another. She focused not on the front of the enemy but at the midstream of their massed number on the narrow parapet along the wall. Again and again she fired, collapsing their bodies to dam up their followers, breaking their momentum to buy precious minutes. Her clip ejected and replaced, hot cartridges fled the chamber one by one as she built a dam of dead on either side of the parapet. But there were more men than the intelligence had forecast. Too many. As if they were expecting company. Clip ejected, another loaded, and her rifle kicked again and again.

              CLICK! CLICK!

            Empty. She scoffed and grasped her rifle by the barrel and swung.

              Fire erupted and the enemy cried in terror. She halted in surprise and snapped her head upward. A familiar dragon in his red and white. In one effortless glide, Puddin incinerated the guards on the parapets. He had brought her time. Furious machine guns were raining down on their former owners in the interior. With a snap of his vast wing, he swung around. A small girl was on his back between his shoulders. “Hannah!” she breathed in a relief and waved.

              The dragon rider waved back and then flew off to the naval battle.

              Dagny looked again, they have made a breakthrough, the wall was theirs. “Move! Morgan, take a squad and open the gates! We’re burning daylight!”

              From her back she pulled out her sword and leaped from the ramparts to support her men as they pressed against the enemy trying to block their access to below. A stab here, a stab there. “Forward!” she cried and aimed her gun.

              Something caught her eye. A gang of men on the ground below had gathered together in a frantic movement over something small. She peeked harder to get past the ashes. Then a man shot from them, wearing a gear of sort on his body. He was running not to the action but away.

              The big guns.

              She grasped a rifleman, “Shoot him! Shoot him! He’s going for the battery! Stop him!”

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HMS HENGIST

CIC

              “Captain Titus!”

              Titus rushed over to his traffic controller, “What is it, Specialist?”

              “I can’t be sure, sir. The ash cloud is causing a lot of confusion on the radar. These signals keep going in and out.”

              Popova noticed their whisperings. “Captain Titus, what is it?”

              “We’re not sure, sir. The radars are showing a bit of confusion here and there, sir.”

              She thought a moment. “Notify us of any change, captain. Colonel Rawlings, prepare our air defense.”

              “But, sir. The Purifiers don’t have a dragon. They won’t permit their women to fly them.”

              “Vozmozhino,” she shrugged. “Prepare the defense. We shall see.”

              Dolson spoke, “We’re taking on heavy fire. We need to regain our altitude. We ne–”

              “Radar contact! I have ten contacts and heading our way fast!”

              “Fifteen! No, thirty!”

              The loudspeaker squawked, “CIC, Watch Seven! We have a series of heavy aerocrafts coming out of the cloud!” Pause. “Enemy crafts approaching at nine o’ clock!”

              “Sir!” Titus called out. “Thirty-six contacts and climbing!”

              Colonel Rawlings grasped his handset, “Attention, all units! Attention, all units! Enemy heading our way, fire at will. Fire at will!”

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OVER LAKE NICARAGUA

              “Attention, all dragon riders. Attention, all dragon riders. The aerocarrier group under attack. Return and engage the enemy areocraft. Not dragons. Repeat, not dragons.”

              “Airships? That doesn’t make sen–”

              “Contact!” Marion shouted and fired. “High on seven o’ clock!”

              Bullets zipped by Hannah’s head. “Fuck me! Puddin, give it to me, baby!”

              Puddin snapped his wings shut and took a dive toward the waters. The propeller plane of steel followed without effort. “Still on our tail, Spitfire!”

              “Hammer that son of a bitch!” She guided Puddin for the narrow space between the enemy destroyers. “Give me some fire, baby!”

              He snorted and bellowed fire onto the ships, blinding the men on both sides. Marion kept firing at their chaser who manoeuvered with ease after them, its hateful bullets zipping after them. Some ricocheted off his tough plates that have evolved over ages against rival dragons, but they annoyed him all the same. Hannah thought fast. Puddin switched left at the stern of the destroyers. The fighter overshot. She glanced over her shoulder. The plane have turned after them, but it was a slow turn, requiring precious minutes. The dragons still have superior manoeuvrability she realized with relief. Fighter’s fast, might be faster, but not good on turns. Its fixed wings gave it a good flow but it can’t fold them. A slight edge but it will count. If she can hug the enemy ships, the pilot might hesitate to fire. The ship batteries are another story.

              “Dragon riders, Skylark!” her headset barked. “Break off! Break off! The carrier group’s taking on heavy fire. Those planes are dropping bombs from their fixed wings. Break off, break off, and return to the task force!”

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HMS HENGIST

CIC

              KA-BOOM! the hull sounded. Hengist shivered. Rawlings shouted, “Come on! Get the defense up and running already, you lousy lot!”

              “Marshal,” Wellings slid up. “Elizabeth I’s receiving heavy damage. Those planes are ganging up on her. Couple this with York, half of our forces are being beaten back. We’re facing a pincher action, planes on top, battleships on bottom. Request permission to break off, sir.”

              “Request denied! We must press! With those planes, they will build an air base during the truce to defend their gain, making our second attempt even harder than we have estimated. We have the advantage yet, now carry on!”

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FORT BLACK SOUTH

              “STOP THAT MAN!” she shouted.

              Several rifles cracked and popped. The man raced on. One bullet shattered a part of his knee but he pressed on.

              “Fire!” she shouted as she fired her gun.

              His arm wounded, his hips shot, he pressed on in spite of unbearable pain.

              “Fire!” she shouted in a hoarse voice. “Fire on that man! Your lives depend on it!”

              More blood spurted out of him. Then he made one last lunge. His grenades clips flew off from his chest. He fell into the hatch.

              “DOWN!” The battery exploded. And again. And again as the ammunition dump caught fire. Fire towered high above the ground. The barrels bent backward and collapsed in a helter-skelter pattern. The ripped metal pieces thudded as they landed.

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OVER LAKE NICARAGUA

              Puddin was tiring, Hannah noticed.

            He was a young and powerful beast but he was already past his limit after flying for four hours already. He needed rest but the events had denied him that. They had to climb high to defend the carrier group.

              “Contact!” Marion cried as her guns fired.

              She willed Puddin to dive fast.

              “Still coming!”

              “Get the pilot!”

              “Working, sister!”

              They flew too close to the furious exchange between the carriers and the battleships. “Shit! Focus on that mother-fucker!”

              “Roger!”

              Puddin flapped fast. Then he made a sharp turn high. The plane rushed on into the firefight and exploded.

              She looked back at the burning debris as they fell. Then a scream: “Take cover!”

              Another plane was hot for them. Hannah ducked her head. “Fuckfuckfuckflyingfuck that sonvabitch!” Must be the downed plane’s partner waiting his turn.

              Puddin took charge. With a rapid series of flaps he headed for a carrier. The plane followed. He extended his wings and glided fast alongside Hengist’s point defense under the flight deck. The fighter followed, his guns firing after him. Puddin spun about face and blew a deep breath of fire onto the luckless pilot. Hannah fired her guns on the blinded pilot. The cockpit burst into flames and fell to the lake.

              “Whoa!” Hannah enthused. “Give it to me good and hard, baby!” Then she spotted another fighter.

              Puddin dove, it followed.

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FORT BLACK SOUTH

              Dagny shook her head as the black smoke began to clear. “Get up. Get up,” she muttered and blinked hard.

              The big guns. Useless for attacking the Purifier fleet now.

              With a groan, she got back onto her fours when she heard someone crying for her in alarm.

              Her head shot up to a new danger. A man rushed toward her with his bayoneted rifle. Her training took over, a dagger in her hand from her thigh hostler. He thrust. She dropped to the floor and swung her leg to hook his legs. He fell back. She leaped onto his chest, her dagger stunk deep into his belly three times. “I have been blessed. I have been blessed,” she muttered. An arm seized her neck, a knife posed above her. She seized the arm. They struggled with grunts. She shoved backward and fell. She hit his face with the back of her head and punched the wrist. Knife fell. She surged away from him. Her eyes darted back at him, her hand seizing the fallen knife. She leaped at him. Her blade went deep up his jaws. Breathing hard, she sat up with her knife posed as she stared back at her dead victim.

              She blinked hard. Still dead. She released him, “I have been blessed. I have been blessed in the holy mysteries.”

              The battle was dying down. She reclaimed her dagger and sword. “Lt. Greene, report.”

              “Captain! We won the fort! We’re cleaning it up now, sir.”

              “The battery?”

              “Lost, sir.”

              “You did well. We did our best. Fate.”

              “Fate,” he nodded.

              She peeked over the ramparts at the battle over the ash-snowing lake. “The battle’s not going well.”

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OVER LAKE NICARAGUA, near HMS HENGIST

              A fighter darted off in a crazy spin away from Puddin’s organic fire. “Hammer, tag him!” She grinned as the fighter caught fire from Marion’s bullets. The pilot struggled but his hatch was sealed hot by Puddin. It fell in a graceful arc of smoke into the unforgiving waters. Now, to take down the dive bombers…

              Heavy fire rained down on them. Puddin spun away in a hurry. It followed. “Hammer! Hang on!” She projected an image she wanted Puddin to do. He understood and flapped across the flight deck as the batteries gunned for the fighter. The fighter was too fast. The dragon ducked over the side. The plane followed.

              Too late, the pilot realized his mistake as Puddin was waiting for him below, his jaws full of fire. Bullets and fire were released. The plane exploded. Hannah felt heat. Puddin grasped the enflamed wreckage with his clawed feet and shoved it away from Hengist. Then he dove fast away from the battle for a moment’s breath.

              She whooped it up, “We got it, baby! By the Queen of Heaven, we fucking got that son of bitch!” She looked down. “Fuck me, we lost the fucking radio! But we’re fucking alive, girl! Hammer, you’re okay? Hammer?”

              She looked over her shoulder.

              Marion was leaning away from her guns, shagged listless in her straps like a puppet.

              Hannah stared for a moment. Her lips became a hard line as she breathed deep and looked away to focus on the battle.

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FORT BLACK SOUTH

              “Where’s the radioman?” Dagny hissed.

              She rushed down the ladder to the ground. The gray ashes were snowing harder now. She grasped one of her officers, “Hanson, clean up the fort.” She marched to the cliff, glancing over the wounded and the dead. A bang erupted from inside the fort. “We got another suicide!” an Englishman yelled out. Dagny grasped her lieutenant. “Lt. Greene, remind the men to keep their distance and don’t touch a possible corpse until a bombman has a look.” She looked around again. The trolls were groaning over a couple of their fallen.

              She reached the radioman, “Carl, get me General Blankblot.”

              “Sir?” Greene spoke in a soft tone. “You should sit down and rest. We’ve had a hard morning.”

              “I’m quite all right, solider.”

              “Captain?” the radioman asked.

              She took the offered handset. “General Blankblot? Captain Mark here. Yes, sir, the fort’s ours. But sir, it’s no use to us anymore. The cannons were blown up in a suicide attack, the ammo too. Our purpose is done and over with. It’s the battle on the lake that is our real concern and we must direct our forc–”

              “Listen to me, Captain Mark, this is not your place! Your place is to hold the fort no matter what!”

              “General, sir, with all due respect, sir, the fort’s worthless now. The carriers are the real game. The way the enemy was acting at the fort, it’s like they were expecting us. Sir, they wanted us to come here with our carriers. Our ships’re in trouble. I respectfully request that my men abandon the fort and attack the ships directly. We have the dragons. They can carry u–”

              “Request denied! Your orders are to hold the fucking fort!”

              “Sir, I–”

              “And you’re a godsdamned captain, not a general!”

              She bent over the radio set and played with a dial. “Hello? Hello? You’re breaking up, sir.” She turned the dial, creating static. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t make out what you’re saying. There’s some kind of interference with the radio. Hello? Do you copy me?”

              She flipped it off. She stepped back and drew her gun.

              “Shit!” the radioman dashed away.

              She pulled the trigger. The set cracked. Sparkles flew.

              “The fuck you’re doing, Captain?” the radioman yelled.

              She ignored him. She pointed to some men, “You! Give me your grenade belt. And your rifle. You! Hand me that grenade bag.”

              Ashe-faced Greene asked, “Oi! Captain, what are you doing?”

              “Lt. Greene, my compliments, you have the command of the fort now.”

              “I have the command, but are you trying to get court-martialed, sir?”

              She pointed to another man, “You! Give me your flare gun if you please.” As she loaded up she said, “The variables have changed. Our carriers need help. And I’m giving it to them.” She looked around at her gathered men, “I cannot ask you to join me. Any fault is mine and mine alone. Carry on, soldiers. For Gods and Queen.”

              “For Gods and Queen,” they affirmed.

              She raced to the edge of the cliffs. She halted and searched the sky. She saw the familiar red and white colors of a dragon. It was gliding close. She lifted her flare gun and pulled the trigger.

              A burning red star rocketed high and exploded.

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OVER LAKE NICARAGUA

              Puddin’s powerful sight reached Hannah’s and she turned to the sight of the burning flare and frowned. “Puddin,” she said. The dragon made a break for the cliffs.

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FORT BLACK SOUTH

              The dragon was flying closer, she saw. She waited. As it neared the cliffs, she started to race toward the edge.

              Closer. She could see Hannah’s head. She ran faster.

              Closer.

              Her feet pounded the sand. She focused on her goal, breathing hard, for that one last action.

              Closer!

              And Dagny Mark leaped off the high cliffs and fell toward the dangerous waters.