Sam
October 13, 1786, Realm Timeline, Austria, near the Morava River
"Will you help?" Joseph asked.
The man's voice carried desperation. The yearning to protect his family, but also the uncertainty about whether what he wanted to do was right. It moved Sam's heart, tilting it over the threshold of keeping his word.
"I work better alone. Stay here."
"Let me come with you. I'll help!" the Emperor said. That tilted the balance back.
"Sure," Sam shrugged. Since he insists, I'll use him as a decoy and make a run for the tree line.
"Your Majesty! Thank the Almighty you're alive!"
The scream made Sam raise his sword and jump back, turning toward the sound. It was the Court's Sage, and behind him a small group of guards—about ten—all wounded, some in better shape than others, bleeding or dragging their feet.
"I am, thanks to His Excellency, the Outworlders' Envoy," the Emperor stated. "He will be granted a decoration and a title as soon as—"
"We have to survive first. Are your muskets loaded?" Sam asked, lowering his weapon.
Three soldiers raised their hands.
"I'm a Healer, but can shoot Mana bolts," the Sage said.
"Perfect. Everyone, follow."
Beelining toward the back exit, Sam peeked outside, signaling to the others to wait. The hounds were nowhere to be seen, and the dozen enemy soldiers were gathered, talking and gesturing animatedly, pointing at the forest.
"Take cover and shoot at them when I give the signal," Sam whispered. "The rest, prepare to engage in close combat."
"But taking cover is cowardly," a soldier hissed.
"Follow the orders, or I'll have you quartered," the Emperor said, unsheathing his small sword. The three guards exited onto the terrace and took cover behind the statues displayed here and there. The Sage fidgeted his fingers, and Sam could see a faint flicker of light enveloping the Emperor and him, a temporary force shield. The rest of the soldiers stepped in front of them, bayonets at the ready. Unfortunately, one of the attackers turned his head toward the castle and noticed their presence.
"L'ennemi est là!"
"Fire," Sam yelled.
Three gunshots resounded, and due to the short distance and the French being close together, they hit five targets, passing through more than one body. The Sage threw a bolt, downing another attacker. The rest charged, shooting their weapons as they ran. The target, evidently, was the Emperor. Two bullets found their mark but were stopped by the force field.
The charge arrived and went through the Austrian soldiers like a hot knife through butter. Two Frenchmen were disemboweled, but they continued on, roaring. Sam beheaded one of them; the Frenchman's bayonet was only an inch away from Joseph's chest. The Emperor backpedaled with a yelp, parrying another bayonet with his sword.
What do you know, he's not so useless after all…
Blocking another hit with his body and force shield, the Sage shot a bolt in the face of another Frenchman. "Die, republican scum!" the old man screamed in a high-pitched voice.
The rest of the assailants fell in moments, overwhelmed by bayonets, and the soldiers who had been hiding behind the statues attacked from the back. Sam added a few thrusts and slashes, hoping to get some XP. His expectations were rewarded.
Fight assessment. You have killed French Infantrymen x 2 and contributed to the demise of four others. Quantum Nanites absorbing information. Quantum Nanites deploying. You have reached Level 3 and have nine attribute points to invest.
Sam was about to end the misery of one of the wounded soldiers when the Sage gripped his hand. "Your impetuousness is admirable, but we need to interrogate him. I sense another one is alive, on the lawn. Tie them. Who is in need of healing?"
Two of the guards rushed outside, and the wounded Imperial guards arranged themselves in a line, in order of severity of the wounds. The Sage was obviously good at his job because the light coming from his hands was the shiniest Heal spell Sam had seen on the Realm, and in less than ten minutes, all the wounded were stabilized.
"Good plan, sir," a guard with a more ornate uniform bowed at Sam. "We lost only two men."
Shit! Sam grimaced. Twenty percent losses weren't much in a world where battles were hecatombs, but it didn't make him feel any better. And worst of it, it had been dumb luck. If the hounds had been here, we'd be dog food by now.
"I bet Count Futak was involved. It's rumored the rebels took his family hostage," the Sage said pensively, grabbing his chin.
"His Majesty and I thought the same about Futak," Sam said. "The Mage was a French Robespierrian, though. He had the French tattoo."
"Excuse me?"
"Liberty, Equality, Fraternity."
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"This would explain their accent," the Sergeant said.
A soldier raised his hand. "Sirs!"
"What do you want?" the Sage snapped.
"Sorry to bother you, but… Where is His Majesty?"
"Sorry?"
"Where the bleep is Joseph?" Sam gasped, finally taking note that the Emperor was absent. "Oh, no! He's playing the hero, going to save the Empress." And I forgot about her and Eliza again… Shoot…
"Alone?" the Sage asked. "This doesn't make any sense."
"Yeah, exactly! You wait here, I'll check," Sam blurted, running toward the woods.
For a second, he thought of unsheathing his sword again, to be ready for a surprise attack. Still, there was a risk of falling and impaling himself, or worse, killing the Emperor by mistake, if the man jumped all of a sudden in front of him. Going into the woods alone was not a sign of great intelligence.
"This was not in the job's description," Sam muttered under his breath. He ran onward for about half a mile when a faint, soft noise attracted his attention. "Your Majesty?.. Joseph?... Hello?... What the bleep is this?"
A low, large shadow emerged from the bushes, transforming into a sounder of boars, blocking his path. The one in front looked at Sam with mean eyes, a look he had only seen from his mother during high school, when he had skipped classes to go on a date with one of the cheerleaders. A second later, the boar charged.
"Your funeral!" Sam exhaled, grabbing the sheath with his left hand and the hilt with his right hand. He only got the sword out by half when the boar struck, sending him flying. Rolling away as soon as he landed, Sam crawled over a fallen tree, making himself small. Please go away… Please go away… Grunts and hoof sounds followed. The sounder has moved on, and the reality check has been brutal. All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than the others, he remembered a quote.
Pulling himself together, he limped on, trying to make as little noise as possible while listening to anything that could reveal other humans.
Tristan
The group headed East, but things went south. Tristan detected a group of hounds approaching, followed by a big noise of boots running: the Tamer. The enemy was trying to reach the ford ahead of them. He signaled his team to slow down, to buy as much time as possible. He could only hope the Empress had managed to take the ferry across the river.
"Stop!" Tristan ordered, raising his hand.
They were at the forest's edge. There was a large dirt road going into the ford, and a bit of plains, before the woods started farther eastward. Both were exposed ground. The Tamer and his hounds were guarding the ford on the Austrian side of the Morava River.
"I know you're there; my hounds have your scent. Surrender the Empress, and no harm will come to her!" the Tamer roared.
"How can we trust you, devil spawn?" Tristan yelled, stalling for every second possible.
"Look in the mirror before you speak, filthy papist," the Tamer yelled back. "The Vlachs always keep their word."
"He's a Rebel!" one of the Austrian nobles hissed. "They never keep their word."
"I know," Tristan sneered.
His mind was made. His mission was complete, or at least, he had done all he could. What remained was to take down the Tamer, because he was still a threat, and the only good rebel was a dead one. And if worse were to be, and he fell, and then the nobles were killed, he didn't really care, as long as they gave their lives in the service of the Empire, fighting the heretics.
And last but not least, I won't be the Vampire's slave and my soul will be redeemed...
He exited the cover, walking laterally, slowly, his spear at the ready. Two mastiffs, the largest dogs of the pack, attacked. And it was what Tristan hoped for. He threw his spear at the Tamer, lifted a good-sized rock, and slammed it on the first dog's head, while thrusting his hand into the second one's mouth, grabbing the tongue and pulling, ignoring the pain of the bite.
"You bastard," the Tamer yelled in pain. The spear had hit the man in his prominent belly, half of the blade going inside. The man pulled out the spear, threw it down, then stepped forward, pulling a pistol from his belt with each step and firing it very quickly. Four steps, four pistols, four bullets.
Tristan ducked. Two bullets missed; the other two hit true, lodging themselves in Tristan's chest. Breathing became hard.
You have suffered two lethal wounds. Find a source of healing within 2 minutes.
Suddenly, a spray of blood erupted from the Tamer's arm, and his hand detached from the body, falling down. The Envoy had appeared there out of nowhere, delivering a cut with a strange sword. Behind him was the Emperor, running with his smallsword in hand. A backhand from the Tamer threw the Envoy into the Emperor, and both to the ground.
"Sic'em!" the Tamer screamed, grabbing his stump tightly to stop the geyser of blood.
How is he still alive? Tristan gasped.
Chaos ensued. The diversion group ran out from the treeline, screaming to attract the hounds' attention. Meanwhile, the Tamer picked up the spear, trying to kill the Emperor. To his credit, the Envoy, albeit still down, was parrying the hits with his blade. Tristan ran toward the fight. Picking a hound by the hind legs, he threw it into a tree, breaking its back.
"I need five seconds!" the Envoy yelled.
In desperation, Tristan grabbed the spear's shaft just below the blade, pulling it back and forth, trying to be unpredictable, to keep the Vlach's focus on him. At the same time, he tried not to be stabbed by the tip of the spear, his own dagger.
Although the Tamer was fighting with only one hand, he proved too strong for Tristan to take the spear from him. Then, the Envoy disappeared from the ground and reappeared next to the Tamer, his sword up to the hilt in his chest, above the wound the spear had made. The Tamer wobbled.
Tristan kicked the man's belly, twice, hard. Flailing his arm and stump, the Tamer fell back, landing in the ford. The knight pressed his boot on the man's throat, keeping his head under the water. The man tried to grab Tristan's leg, but the Envoy and the Emperor arrived, both grasping and pulling on the Tamer's remaining wrist, which was as thick as a normal man's leg.
"Die already, you mother bleeper!" the Envoy screamed.
It took over a minute for the giant's body to become limp. Tristan continued pressing his boot on his throat, just in case he was faking.
Assessing performance: Great. 80%. You have slain a Tamer, Third Order Mage, and 78% of his pack. Quantum Nanites absorbing information. Quantum Nanites deploying. +1 Constitution, +1 Strength. You have reached Level 4. You have 12 attribute points for distribution. Absorbing Lifeforce. Vital signs stabilized.
The information was too complicated, so Tristan decided not to dwell on it and instead looked around. All the dogs were dead, but many of the noble guests were in bad shape, hurrying to patch each other's wounds before they bled out.
"Where's my wife?" the Emperor screamed, staring at the Hungarian woman in the group. "You're not my wife? Where's my wife?"
"I'm a decoy, Your Majesty," the woman said. "The Empress is escaping with the ferry as we speak."
"I told you we should have kept straight," the Envoy accused.
"Are you well, Your Majesty?" Tristan asked. The man was heaving, hands on his knees.
"Only scratches. I'll survive. We must hurry to find my wife."
"Just a second. You guys should head back to the castle and get healed. The Sage is in charge there," the Envoy said to the guests.
"We don't know the way," the woman said.
"This road gets back to the castle," Tristan showed her the trail that went into the ford.
"Joseph! Wait!" the Envoy yelled, as the Emperor had launched himself into the ford and was struggling to fight the current. "C'mon! Can't you listen before acting, for a change?"
"He's the Emperor; it's the others who do the listening," Tristan said, sighing before jumping into the cold water.