It worked – you can download the pdf = button at bottom of the map

This is a test

Note: at some point my edit of this story went past the point in this story where these posts were up to – please excuse any apparent discontinuities, jumps or even the same bit re-appearing 🙂

The fire didn’t last long as there were several high-pitched cracks from behind him somewhere that sounded like sniper rifles firing, and he assumed that they were taking out the Japanese firing at the civilians. The pressure on his shields continued to build as more and more of the women and children panicked and stampeded across the bridge. Every so often, another burst of fire came from the Japanese side of the river that would invariably be met by repeated shots from the snipers on this side. The response either killed the Japs firing or forced them to take cover, which helped keep the casualties down. He had no idea of how many women and children came across the bridge before the flow started to slow to a trickle, but it was thousands, possibly tens of thousands. He thought he’d heard maybe twenty grenade explosions that hadn’t been in the water, which wasn’t too bad, all things considered. Finally, The flow eased to a stop, and Andrew decided it was time to advance.

He climbed up the bank to join Simpson, who was hunkered down right at the edge of the bushes next to the sidewalk. He relaxed his mental shield, although he wasn’t as mentally exhausted as he had been before his nap.

“What say we go and find this mentalist and take him out?” He said to her with a grin.

“I can feel him,” she said, looking surprised. “He’s on the left-hand side of the road in those bushes, or at least under their cover.”

There were bodies scattered all over the bridge of women, young men, and lots of young children. Some looked to be barely old enough to be able to walk on their own. Andrew felt his gorge rise and his anger grow. He pulled buckets of power, the air frosting around him as he marched across the bridge. There were at least a couple of hundred women and children who’d been wounded, some horribly, who were still trying to make their way across the bridge, but he couldn’t stop to help them with the Jap mentalist just the other side of the bridge. He had his physical shield up as well, but he had to keep only just wide enough to cover him and Simpson due to all the bodies he was having ot make his way around. Simpson was tagging along right behind him as usual so as not to be obvious what she was capable of.

The roadway sort of dipped down a little on the far side of the bridge, and when they were about two-thirds of the way across, a man stepped out of the building on the left-hand side beyond the bushes Simpson had spoken of. He was wearing a dark, long coat with a high collar, dark pants, and a dark shirt under the coat, all embroidered elaborately, plus shiny tall boots. He was glowing with power and began throwing fireballs at Andrew immediately after he came into sight. The barrage of fireballs landed on Andrew’s shield in the air heated up, and he drew power from the heat, adding it to his store, strengthening his shields, and readying a counterstrike. The mentalist swapped to a slash, but it had little effect, so he threw a few more fireballs.

Taroniah is happy to be home in Alcitran finally, even if keeping up with demand for leaf springs and pipes keeps her busy. In the southwest, the adherents of a new faith are proving to be troublesome with their plans for expansion. Korlah sets a wedding date, but heading to the wedding means Taroniah has to leave two new and largely untried magicians in charge of her enterprises for several weeks, which is a considerable risk. A few days before the wedding, the Goddess Davina pays Taroniah a visit and tells her about a dragon entombed in a frozen lake and how Taroniah is the only one powerful enough to deal with it!

damn- missed a whole week – sorry –

Just then, Simpson turned up. “The Captain says I should come with you just in case. He said he has enough snipers.”

Andrew found himself smiling at the Nuzeeland soldier, who grinned back at him! Apparently, she had been offended by his clumsy innuendo before their nap. Not that she hadn’t come back at him with a similar comment, but he’d noticed women were touchy about that sort of thing. Not that he’d had much personal experience, but he’d seen other guys put their foot in it with that sort of joking around.

.The three of them made their way along the side of the main road, keeping low, and soon reached where the bushes started, which enabled them to move a bit easier now that they were in cover. He pushed as far forward as he could, and they finished up crouched on the side of the bank behind some lantana and other bushes with a somewhat patchy view of the bridge. The Kiwi Sergeant, Karl Williams, had a radio with him so the Captain could notify them when the Japanese finally started across the bridge. It took another hour before there was any movement. Finally, he got a message and looked at the other two.

“They’re beginning to cross the bridge. Better do your stuff, bro.”

Andrew nodded and reached out with his senses. He found he could feel the masses of glows from all the Japanese women and children moving like a tide across the bridge. Their glows were all dull, and he assumed that was because of the chips the adults had in their heads and the lack of magic amongst the youngsters. He brought up his mental shield and pushed it across the bridge as far as he could reach, which wasn’t quite to the other shore but a good deal further than he was expecting.

“Talk to them.” He said loudly.

The Kiwi Sergeant started bellowing in what Andrew guessed was Japanese, and he hoped that the Japanese could understand the Kiwi Sergeant. Simpson was a little further up the rise, closer to the road, and could see further from where she was.

“It’s working! Sort of. Some have thrown their bombs into the water and are running for this side of the bridge, while others look confused. Some are still coming with their grenades. Better shout a few more times, Sergeant.”

The Sergeant began shouting the instructions repeatedly, and then, as he could hear the first of the feet running past them on the road above their heads, he felt a pressure on his mental shield driving him back. He moved slightly so he was more directly in the sunshine and pulled power, pressing back against the Japanese mentalist.

“I’ve got mental company, but I’m too busy holding a shield to work out where he is.” He told Simpson.

There were lots of feet running past their heads now, and then there were a few shots. The Sergeant stopped yelling for a few moments and then tried yelling something else. Then he began rotating through the first lot of yelling and the second lot as the stampede across the bridge continued. He felt Simpson moving up onto the bridge itself. He looked up and saw she was standing behind some of the bushes appearing across the bridge. Suddenly, there was a burst of fire from the other side of the river, and he could hear screams and yells and assumed that the Japanese were firing on their own civilians.

Sans ice caps which expand and contract depending on the seasons and after the first half of Kyron the Warlord (which is where I am up to in the writing – 58k words)

Taroniah at Work is with the editor – hopefully it will be out early June or sooner
Kyron the Warlord is 1/3 written – give or take – aiming for August but you know… Murphy
The Harrecan Problem (Federation 2) will follow including the return of an old friend – eta October/November but again – Murphy
Ostraya is not quite ready to go to the editor yet and it will be on a fit it in when you can basis so no timeline yet. After the editor it needs to go to Pam for final approval.
After changing the latest Taroniah to Taroniah at Work, the next one will be Taroniah at Sea… have next to nothing in it yet as most of what I had written got moved to Taroniah at Work .. sigh
Kyron the Conqueror will follow that.
After that I am tossing up – I have no good stories that work for Princess Gizel at the moment so you may get something else…..

“Sir.” The Captain was standing nearby and came over. “If I get down to those bushes on the right-hand side of the bridge, I should be able to throw a mental shield out over the main part of the bridge that may disrupt the mentalist’s control over the suicide bombers. It will become a battle of power between how far I can reach and how far their mentalist can reach.”

He paused and thought about what would happen in such a circumstance. It would depend upon the strength of the enemy mentalist to a large extent, he expected.

“Do we have someone that speaks Japanese?” At the Captain’s nod, he continued. “If you have someone that has a loud carrying voice, have your Japanese speaker coach them in how to yell out, “Throw the bombs in the river and run to our side.” It will completely disrupt their plan, hopefully.”

The Captain thought about it for a few moments. “I see. You’re hoping that your mental influence will break their control long enough for them to obey our instructions and wander to our side of the bridge where they will be out of range of the Japanese mentalists.”

“That’s the idea, sir. I have no idea of how many I’ll be able to affect, but if the Japanese keep forcing them across the bridge, more and more of them will come under my control or at least my shield that will free them from the Japanese mentalist’s control. Can I suggest we have a few snipers placed on the roofs to pick off those who choose to carry the bombs across the bridge anyway? There’s no guarantee that freeing them of the mental controls they are under will necessarily make them happy to follow our instructions.”

“No, I guess not. Particularly with Japanese, they tend to be a bit more fanatical than some.” The Captain commented, turned away, and began giving orders to his assembled underlings to get things happening.

Andrew turned back and resumed contemplating the bridge. After a minute or two, the Captain rejoined him.

“You know, it would pay to have some troops ready to organize the refugees into those open areas, the tennis courts over here to the left and the parkland there to the right behind those trees so the Japs across the river can’t see them. I think if we break them up into small groups, it will work well in case the odd bomber makes it through.”

The Captain nodded. “Good idea.”

The Nuzeeland officer took a few minutes to study the ground where Andrew had pointed and then called over a couple of Lieutenants and began issuing more orders.

“I’ll go downstairs and head for that scrub as soon as your man with a loud voice turns up.”

Fortunately, the Japanese were still busy organizing, and nothing happened over the next few minutes. A large Kiwi Sergeant turned up at the entrance of the building.

“You’ll be Harris, then?”

“Yeah, mate. You’re the one with a loud voice?”

“Parade ground voice is what they call it, bro. I hope this idea of yours works.”

“If you’ve got the Japanese words down right, it should work well. It’ll depend on how powerful the Jap mentalist is and how fanatical the Jap women and children are.”

slack again – sorry

“I’d invite you in, but I’m too tired even to consider it.”

Simpson snorted. “Any excuse. Bloody Ossies, weak as piss.”

“Am not!” He said, trying to defend himself, and then saw the grin on her face. “You wait, Simpson. You’ll get yours; don’t you worry about that.”

“Promises promises.” She said with an even wider grin before she pushed open the door of the room she had selected and then disappeared from his view. Andrew was so exhausted that all he did was take his boots off before collapsing on the bed. The next thing he knew, there was a knocking on the door. He decided it must be the morning already, as it appeared to be light outside.

“Come.” He yelled.

The door opened, and a Nuzeeland soldier entered.

“Captain’s compliments, sergeant, but he wonders if you could come and see what’s going on with the Japs.”

Andrew couldn’t help himself and sighed loudly. He sat up in bed and looked blearily at the soldier before shaking his head.

“Righto. I’m going to have a quick shower first, Japs or no Japs.”

“Don’t care, bro. I’m just the messenger.” The soldier replied and exited the room.

Andrew kept the shower brief and headed back to where he thought the command post most likely was. In the event, they had moved it upstairs from where it had been the previous day because the view was better.

“Ah. Harris. What you make of that.” The Captain said, pointing out the window.

Andrew looked out the window, which gave him a view across the river. There were people filling the streets everywhere we looked. Women and children mostly. They were all standing in big clumps, and then he noticed individuals walking amongst them, handing things out. He brought up his telescopic vision spell and looked at one of the individuals. They were carrying a sack draped over their shoulder, handing out globular items to the women and children. Oh fuck! They all had Japanese features, so the crowd must be all the women and children attached to the male servants whom they’d been using as soldiers. Possibly even the widows and children of those who had been killed in action. Who knew what criteria they’d use with the way the True Men carried on?

“They chip all the women, don’t they?”

“That’s the report your people sent us. All the women and the boys born to servants who otherwise aren’t selected to become Real men.”

“Yeah. There handing out grenades. They are going to send all those women and children across the bridge and force our men to kill them all; otherwise, they’ll become thousands of suicide bombers.”

“Fuck.” The Captain said.

Andrew stood watching the crowds for some time, trying to think of some way of dealing with the issue that didn’t involve massacring thousands of women and children. He’d sort of felt the control spell that the Japanese mentalists used to control their cyborgs a few times, but only the edge of it. He had no idea of what form it actually took. Then he looked at the bank that supported the bridge approach road on this side and at the bushes on the right-hand side of that bank, which ran all the way up to where the concrete abutment of the bridge proper was.