Guerrilla (The Invasion of Miraval Book 2) Read online

  Aria removed the dragonflower blossom that Dag had fashioned for her and slipped it onto her left ring finger. She showed it to her father and said, “He gave me this until he could get me a real ring.”

  “Oh, Aria,” Beaurigar said excitedly and picked his daughter up in a fierce bear hug. “I wish your mother were here to see this day.” He set her down and wiped at his face quickly, hoping that Aria would not see it. Turning into the captain once more, he added, “You two look after each other out there. I expect to see you both back and in one piece, so that I can walk you through the pantheon.”

  5

  “Well, he knows,” Aria said as she joined Dag outside in the training yard. She had not removed the dragonflower ring from her finger since showing it to her father.

  “Should I start running?” Dag quipped back, a large smile on his face.

  “No need,” she said as she hugged him. “I will say that you’re lucky he likes you, otherwise he might have come out shooting.”

  She broke the embrace and noticed for the first time that Dag’s scout team was standing around him, staring curiously at their leader. Kayleigh Ambrose at eighteen was the youngest, wearing a camouflage hat over her red pig tails and carrying a rifle in addition to the crossbow strapped to her back. Pendelton Morrow was about Dag’s age, had dark hair and piercing blue eyes, and wore a bandolier of knives slung across his chest in addition to his sniper rifle. The oldest was Raphael Logan, not a soldier but one of Harren Falls’ few surviving constables. He was clean cut and lanky, and like Dag and Pendelton, he was a veteran hunter and knew the lands of the Crest very well.

  “What’s going on, boss?” Pendelton asked. “You getting hitched or something?”

  “Sure am,” he replied.

  Kayleigh gasped, and her hand went to her mouth as her pale freckled skin turned red. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she just hugged Aria and Dag in turn. Pendelton clapped him on the back and Logan shook his hand, while they both offered their congratulations to the couple.

  “Alright, alright, enough of the glad handing,” Dag said, although he could not seem to stop grinning. “We’ve got some work to be done.”

  “I’m guessing it’s exceeding dangerous or stupid, or they wouldn’t have asked us to do it, eh, Sarge?” Pendelton asked.

  “It’s Lieutenant Dagenham now,” Aria pointed out.

  “A promotion and a new girl?” Pendelton chided. “You win the lottery too, lieutenant?”

  Dag rolled his eyes. “You guys know I don’t stand on formality, so let’s just keep things as they were and go kill some Dommies,” he said.

  “We have orders then?” Logan asked.

  “Our squad along with Aria are marching out to Craven Bluffs,” he said in a low voice as he looked around at the large number of people in the camp. “I’ll communicate the rest of our orders when there aren’t so many people around. Grab whatever gear you need and can carry. Aria, see if Torrace can get us some supplies and a pack horse to carry it. It’s a long hike to Craven Bluffs and I don’t much fancy us starving to death on the way there.”

  6

  Several hours later, Dag and his squad were laden down with backpacks full of supplies, ammunition, and their bedrolls. Aria had gotten Torrace to come through in fine fashion with a burro to carry water skins and some heavier items- specifically a RPFX-88 rocket launcher that Tangrit had handed over when Dag had advised him of the mission. (When he had attempted to protest that the bombardiers needed rocket launchers a lot more than scouts and snipers, the one-armed strangely sober veteran had pointed out that he had three crates of launchers captured from the Dommies and a grand total of three people who knew how to use one.)

  “’e’s an ole sum bitch that Yalo is,” Torrace had muttered as he handed the reins of the burro over. “A right sum bitch. Probably die on ye before yer halfway to Craven Bluffs. Stupid ole half-wit donkey.”

  “Thanks, Torrace,” Dag had said as he would have sworn that he saw the farmer wipe a tear away from his eye.

  “Aye,” he replied. “Glad to be rid of the beastie.”

  Dag led Yalo and his squad out of the training yard, but were stopped before they could get more than a few feet by Aleksian Dagenham. “Weird rumors flying around the yard, Dag,” he observed as he offered his brother his hand. “Some idiot apparently commissioned you as a lieutenant.”

  “That idiot was my father,” Aria said, not sure if she should be offended or not.

  “Apparently, thick-headedness runs in the family, because I just heard that you had agreed to marry this poor soul,” he added, nodding toward Dag.

  Aria glowered at him and kicked him in the shin.

  “Ow! That’s striking an officer,” he muttered with a look on his face halfway between a grin and a grimace.

  “That’s kicking my pain in the ass of a brother-in-law,” Aria retorted.

  Alex grinned and offered Aria his hand. “Welcome to the family,” he said warmly.

  Aria thought about what Dag had told her that morning and what Alex did not know, but she simply smiled and took his hand. “Thank you,” she said.

  “It’s about time someone made an honest man of Dag,” he observed.

  “Anyone else notice the war we’re in the middle of?” Dag muttered. “Maybe we could put this palaver off until the Dommies aren’t knocking on our door.”

  Alex stared at his brother and muttered, “Bastard.”

  Aria saw Dag flinch, but a moment later he smiled and said, “Jackass.”

  The two brothers embraced before Dag led his squad out of the training grounds and through the city. Men and women who had been militia volunteers just a few days before were now the seasoned veterans in charge of assigning billets to the recent influx of Miravallians, determining their skill sets, and seeing if they would be of any use to the militia that was about to turn right back around and march south. A few of the Harren Falls residents called farewells to Dag or other members of his four man team, and a part of Dag wondered if his sisters and his mother were out in the mad throng of people, trying to work their way home. Would she wonder where he was and if he was all right, or would she just wonder why there was no food on the table? He supposed he would rather not know the answer to that question.

  They took the main road out of town, passing through a veritable city of tents and beleaguered looking people who looked expectantly at those dressed in military garb and carrying weapons as if Dag was going to provide something for them. If Alex had been there, he might have had something rousing and patriotic to say, something that inspired the tired and hungry people of the Crest to fight for their homeland. Dag was not Alex though, and he passed by the expectant people, doing his best not to look at them.

  It was not long before they were clear of the line of tents, but as they marched down the road, they would pass by people making the trek north heading toward Harren Falls. Most looked like families although a few were armed with hunting rifles and looked like they were eager to volunteer for duty. Dag sent them on, giving them directions when they asked, or nodded somberly to them when they passed by without a word. Occasionally, a vehicle would drive by, and Dag would flag it down and ask the driver to pick up as many as he could on his way to Harren Falls.

  They camped the first night on the road and were eventually joined by a few refugees and six children who noticed their fire going. All of his team members split their rations with the children, when they saw the wild eyed faces staring hungrily at their dinner. The next morning, after saying farewells to the refugees, Dag handed over the reins of Yalo and a few more rations.

  “We’re not keeping the donkey?” Aria asked.

  “He won’t make it through the woods,” Dag said as he motioned for everyone to turn off the road and into the woods.

  “We’re not sticking to the road?” Logan asked as they stomped up a hill, slick with pine straw.

  “This road goes too far to the south and then picks up a second road
that cuts to the northwest toward Craven Bluffs,” Dag responded. “It will add four days to our journey, and it’s long enough as is.”

  “We wouldn’t be going over rough terrain,” Logan replied.

  “The woods will offer better cover too,” Dag replied. “I don’t think the Dommies will have gotten this far north yet if they are striking from Carriage Cross, but I’d rather not chance running into an entire infantry column. No, we stick with stealth- that’s played to our advantage nicely so far.”

  “You’re the boss, LT,” Pendelton said as they crested the hill and began moving their way through the thick trees. They were almost to the bottom of the hill when he added as an afterthought, “You said something about explaining our orders once we were alone.” He took a look around as if to make sure, and then he added, “Just us and the trees out here, boss.”

  A bullet ripped above Pendelton’s head, lodging itself in a tree as the report echoed throughout the woods. “Down!” Dag hissed.

  More shots echoed all around them, ripping through the foliage. Dag brought his rifle scope up to his eye and started tracking through the woods. The targets were about five hundred feet away, hiding in some thick bushes. They were not particularly organized and were wearing regular civilian clothes common to the Crest.

  “You got’em?” Logan asked.

  “Yeah, they’re Miravallian,” he muttered, putting the safety back on the rifle. “You and Kayleigh circle around behind them just in case,” he ordered and then with a loud, clear voice, he shouted, “Hold your fire. We’re Miravallian militia.”

  “Dommies ‘ould say that too!” a voice shouted back.

  “Do you see us wearing black and gray, you lowland softie!” Pendelton bellowed back angrily.

  “Either way, there are three of you and five of us, and we’re the soldiers,” Dag said evenly. “You’ll throw down your weapons and come forward, or we will open fire. See if the Dommies give you that deal.”

  A moment later, he watched through the scope as the two men and one boy of about eleven came out of hiding, holding their weapons by the barrels. They laid them down on the ground and raised their hands above their heads, stalking forward slowly. Kayleigh and Logan appeared behind them, their rifles at the ready, and Kayleigh escorted the wayward group of Miravallians up to Dag, who was now standing. Logan stopped for a moment to pick up their weapons before joining them.

  Dag sized up the three men who had just taken some pot shots at his squad. They were all dressed in simple leathers and denim, but their clothes were ripped and dirty in several places, as if they had been running through the woods without any care to where they were going. The two adults each looked a good twenty years older than Dag and there were common enough features between the sun leathered faces of the men for him to assume that they were family.

  “Where are your names?” he asked them. “And where are you from?”

  “Marek,” the eldest looking said, and Dag recognized the voice as belonging to the man who had been shouting at them. “My brother Harrell and my son Marek.” He nodded to each of the others in turn. “We’re of Rainer Ravine,” he added begrudgingly.

  Marek still looked like he did not trust Dag in the slightest and was expecting to be shot. “Lieutenant Raslan Dagenham,” Dag introduced himself. “You want to tell me why you were firing on us?”

  “Thought you were Dommies, didn’t I?” Marek responded. “Didn’t go through all we did back in the ravine just to get pinched by a few rogue scouts operating behind our lines, ya know. If we’re all on the same side, sorry ‘bout that. Wasn’t expecting to run into company out in the woods. Thought maybe the news had been lying to us about Harren Falls being the last bastion still standin’ in the Crest.”

  Dag looked to Pendelton, who just shrugged in response.

  “What happened back at Rainer Ravine?” Aria asked.

  “Dommies showed up with tanks and airships not far from the town,” Harrell spoke up for the first time. He sounded educated compared to his brother and was softer spoken. “The National Guard told us to evacuate the city and a few of us made it up into the woods to the west of the ravine.”

  “Do you have any idea how large a force we’re looking at?” Dag asked.

  Harrell shook his head. “The only thing we actually saw were the airships,” he said. “Three of them, I think- they were pretty far away. But they seemed like they had stopped just outside of town, bombarding it from a distance. They could have surrounded the town and prevented any escape but they didn’t.”

  “Those ships can only go so high,” Aria pointed. “Maybe Rainer Ravine is the furthest up the Crest they can come.”

  “Unnatural things,” Marek said and spat. “Flying up in the air like that. People got no place in the sky like a gods cursed bird.”

  “Anything else that you can tell us?” Dag asked.

  “The lads made a stand south of the town, bought time for people to get out, ya know,” Marek said. “Then set the whole bleedin’ thing ablaze. Dommies’ll need a fire brigade before they can get up the ravine.”

  He laughed coldly as Dag nodded in thought, wondering if he should use the radio to alert Captain Beaurigar and Alex about this. There was always the chance that the Dominion was listening in on any of their conversations and he thought it better that they not break radio silence yet. Still, Alex needed to know how close the Dominion was.

  “There are only three of you?” Logan asked from behind them, interrupting Dag from his internal monologue.

  Marek’s face darkened. “There were five,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “My wife…”

  “Our mum,” Harrell added. “Long range cannons from the airships fired into the woods and the hills. They were a few feet behind us when a shell landed about twenty feet back. The shrapnel… There was nothing we could do.”

  Young Marek started to cry and his father picked him up. “I’m sorry,” Dag said.

  “Had a few mountaineers with us that helped us through the cliffs and the steep hills. Everyone else who made it out of town went in the direction of Honey Hollow, but we struck out for Harren Falls,” Harrell spoke. “If the news was right, we thought it was our best bet for safety.”

  “And maybe an opportunity to kill a few of those bastards,” Marek added.

  Dag nodded. “You’re almost to Harren Falls,” he said. “Northeast of here. Maybe a day’s march.”

  “No marchin’ necessary,” Marek said as he nodded back to where his family had camped the night before. Partially hidden behind a tree was an old Angerson Aura motorcycle with a sidecar. “Found it at an empty house last night,” Marek pointed out. “Looked like the family that had lived there had taken their truck to escape- figured there was no harm in borrowin’ it.”

  Dag shrugged and looked to Logan. “I’m not a copper,” he said, which drew a slight laugh from Marek. “There are a lot of refugees in Harren Falls already, but they will find you some shelter and a chance to fight back if you want it.”

  “Aye, thank you,” Marek said.

  Logan passed their weapons back to them, and the trio was about to head off toward the town when Dag called them back for a moment as he realized there was a much simpler answer to the question of whether or not he should use the radio to bring Alex up to speed.

  “I do need you to do one thing for me,” Dag said. “Find any militia member there and have them bring you to Aleksian Dagenham, my brother. If they give you any grief about Alex being too busy, tell them you have a message from Dagger- they’ll know what that means. I need you to tell him exactly what you told me about what happened in Rainier Ravine. It’s imperative.”

  “We will see it done then,” Harrell said.

  The family of three set off to the northeast on the motorcycle and Dag watched them go for a moment, unable to imagine the heartbreak of a family that should be numbered five. That something so random had claimed the lives of two people Marek had cared for- it made Dag realize just how lu
cky they had been to survive the past few days with his family and Aria still alive.

  “Thrice damned Dommies,” Pendelton swore as they watched the family disappear over the crest of a hill.

  “Come on, we’re falling behind,” Dag said as he turned away and set off through the woods once more.

  7

  “This is a nightmare,” Aleksian Dagenham muttered to himself.

  “Aye, it is,” agreed Torrace.

  Alex had spent the better part of the morning trying to organize the massive influx of people into Harren Falls, seeing which people could be impressed into the militia in some fashion. Building a larger fighting force was at the top of his priority list, but Beaurigar wanted him to make sure all the refugees were given shelter. Harren Falls was a town of barely a thousand people, and they were now at five times that number. With Torrace’s help, he had first needed to sort out those who were willing to join the militia, and he sent those people to set themselves up in the National Guard grounds, where Beaurigar was issuing weapons and forming platoons and companies.

  Unfortunately, most of the men of fighting age had not fled to Harren Falls. Many had been called up to the military before the Crest had been cut off by the Dominion Army’s southern push. Others had stayed behind to defend their homes or had been killed by Dominion scouting parties making their way up into the Crest. All told, they added about five hundred men and women to their one hundred strong force, but were left with many thousand seniors, mothers, and children to home and feed.

  Alex had been forced to send all the residents of Harren Falls, save for the militia members, back to their homes first, including his mother and two sisters, who had arrived in the morning. Mrs. Dagenham had barely spoken to him when he saw her, muttering only about being forced to leave her home and being forced to come back. Alex had taken the berating quietly, had given hugs to both of his sisters, and had sent them home. He noted somewhat bitterly that his mother had not asked about Dag, but did not speak to her about it. After they had headed home, he had then tasked the few members of Torrace’s quartermaster corps with putting the refugees in empty homes, houses belonging to the militia, and finding spare bedrooms and spaces on the floor in homes that were occupied. He felt very sorry for whatever refugees ended up with his mother- she was not going to be the most hospitable host.