He rejoined Constantine, who proffered the binoculars.Accepting them gratefully, Quintus trained them on the western part of thecity. “They almost look like Nortland raiders, with those weapons,” he musedafter a moment. “We’re too far away to tell, though.”
The sound of hooves clattering along the cobblestone pathdrew their attention downward. A soldier leapt from the horse and disappearedfrom view below the tower. Seconds later, a squawk from the speaking tubegrabbed their attention. Quintus picked up the receiver. “What? When? Get twosquads over there right now!”
From the courtyard below, Constantine heard the jingle andclang and thud of men strapping on armor and assembling into their squads. Analarm began to wail.
“There is a mob at the main gate. They tried to get inearlier, but the guards managed to shut the gates. What in Pluto’s name isgoing on?” muttered Quintus.
Manus held out his hand for the binoculars and aimed them atthe gate. “Sir! They’re throwing rocks and debris; it’s flying over the wall!”The mob was beginning to stretch its muscles.
“Where did they all come from?” Quintus asked, shaking hishead in bewilderment.
Constantine frowned, his mind racing. Airships,convenient mobs, the death of my brother … He voiced his thoughts. “Idon’t think those two events are unrelated. I think someone’s plot just came tofruition. We’re going to have to think fast. Quintus, do you have a wirelessconnection? We’ll radio the XIII Germania for assistance. They are the nearestforce that we can trust. I’d bet the constabulary has been infiltrated. Wecan’t rely on them fully.” He fired the words from his mouth as rapidly as hethought them, his brain in full crisis mode.
Quintus gulped, then spouted a new set of orders into thespeaking tube.
“Manus, I want you to-” A larger explosion grabbedConstantine’s attention. He grabbed his binoculars and pushed them back up tohis eyes.
Something large and mechanical was moving toward themansion. “Quintus, any chance you happen to have some … heavy weaponry inyour arsenal?” he asked.
Quintus turned, looking confused until Constantine handedover the binoculars. “What is that thing?” Quintus sputtered, loweringthe binoculars. The middle-aged officer was beginning to look overwhelmed. “Isuppose we’ve got some heavy-duty ballistae kits in the armory,” he toldConstantine. “We’ll have to check. They are probably disassembled, so we’llneed time to set them up.”
Constantine nodded. “Let’s get moving, then.”
The three men raced down the spiral staircase, taking thesteps two, sometimes three at a time.
“This way to the wireless room!” Quintus called as they raninto the main operations building. He paused to detail two men to go back up tothe observation tower to maintain a lookout. Two squads, now fully kitted out,passed them as they marched double-quick toward the main gate. They rounded a cornerand sidled into the tiny wireless room, where two men sat twisting dials andtapping away at various buttons.
The senior member turned to them. “Sir, we’ve been unable toraise the XIII Germania. Something appears to be wrong with their gear. We knowthey are receiving the alert messages, but they aren’t confirming or respondingor anything. What else would you like us to do?”
Quintus looked at Constantine, his shoulders slumped.
“Could we try to get to the airfield and get you out in askimmer, sir? Your safety is paramount,” Manus suggested.
Constantine shook his head. “Remember those columns of smokewe saw? I’m fairly certain one of them came from the airfield. It is a logicalfirst target for any attack or revolt. The rail link is down too, due to thatsabotage the other week.”
The mood in the room was gloomy. Then Constantinebrightened. “Legionnaire, do you have access to the Air Fleet frequencies?” heasked.
Both wireless operators nodded hesitantly. “We aren’tsupposed to, but I have a few friends in the service with whom I traded codes,one time,” the younger man admitted.
Constantine smiled. “I think I’ve got an idea …”
The wireless set in the message room of H.M.A.S.Scioparto squealed. The dozing operator nearly fell out of his chair as amessage came over the airwaves. He scrambled for a grease pencil and scribbleddown everything he could get. His eyes widened in shock as the messagecontinued. Finally the machine fell silent. The operator took a moment to wipehis hand across his now sweaty forehead, leaving a line of grease from thepencil under his airman’s cap. Almost automatically, he activated the wirelessand sent the “Message received and acknowledged” indicator.
The young airman read the message in its entirety again.Then he reached over and pressed the red-alert button on the wall. Klaxonsbegan to wail throughout the ship. Steeling himself, he opened the speakingtube from the bridge. “Sir, I’ve got something I think you should take a lookat.”
“We’ve received a confirmation from the Scioparto.Looks like we may be getting assistance after all, Centurion, sir,” theoperator confirmed, looking back up at the officers.
“Very well.” For the first time, Centurion Quintus seemedcalm. “We’ve got a battle to win.” He turned to march out, but paused to orderthe operators to send out the Request Assistance message on all frequenciesuntil either they were dead, or lost power. “At the very least, we’ll jam theirresponders so full of our message that they won’t be able to communicate!”Quintus boasted. “We’ll blast that out over the airwaves.”
The small command team left the wireless room and exited thesmall barracks. The remaining men of the governor’s guard met them in thecourtyard.
An under-officer saluted Centurion Quintus. “All present andaccounted for, sir. Where do you want us?”
Quintus hesitated, glancing at Constantine. “Your Lordship,as the highest ranking officer present, I hereby pass command of the garrisonto you. What are your orders?” he asked.
Constantine nodded his acceptance, then considered theiroptions. “I assume the only entrance in or out is the main gate? Or is that toomuch to hope for?”
“There is a small servants’ entrance on the eastern wall.It’s lightly guarded, but the gate is strong.”
Constantine’s brows furrowed. “We better get a squad overthere, just in case. Manus, go with them. Sing out if you hear or seeanything.” Manus nodded, his face glinting with a sheen of sweat. “I want youin temporary command as well. Don’t leave your position, don’t open the gate,and don’t do anything stupid. Understand?”
The young legionnaire straightened his back and saluted.“Sir, yes, sir!”
A squad under-officer saluted him and they marched offthrough the gate, leaving the courtyard almost empty. Just a few men of theguard cohort awaited their orders.
Quintus pulled Constantine aside. “Sir, there are a fewothers here who would be willing to contribute to the defense. It’s a bitunorthodox, but …”
Constantine raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean that you wouldarm civilians to help us out?”
Quintus nodded. “Absolutely, sir. It looks like we’ll needevery man we can get, untrained or not. Besides, sir, they’ve armed civilians.”Seeing the logic in this, Constantine agreed.
Quintus stepped away, and projected his voice into thecourtyard. “Alright, boys, time to get to work. I want the arsenal open andemptied. Get all the heavy repeaters and as many explosive-tipped plumbatae aswe can carry. Buldrix, Vespansis, get over to the servants’ quarters. I wantevery man who looks capable dragged back here and equipped. It’s past time tobe picky about service. Tribune Appius here has assumed command of the entiregarrison. I’m going to go to the mansion and round up any volunteers orex-military men.” He dropped his voice and winked at Constantine. “I know a fewfavors I can all in, if need be.”
He turned back to the remainder of the guard cohort. “Don’twait for me, get those reinforcements to the wall.” He leapt onto hisostrichine and galloped away, the machine’s metal feet digging into theperfectly manicured lawn.