Fourth Vector Ch. 32

The fight began brutally. Mortars rained down on Bancroft's men, causing a series of dreadful explosions that caused his forces to buckle. It became so deadly that Bancroft had to seek shelter away from the battle lest one crumble the palace, which several ended up doing. The sounds of mortars gave way to small arms fire as the regiment attacked, coming into the bloody remnants of Bancroft's forces. At one point, he was surrounded by a hail of bullets, quickly hitting the ground in an effort to stay alive.

For a brief moment, Bancroft wondered if he would lose. Could this truly be the end for him?

*****

After Jack's war council that afternoon, he and Bill prepared to sit down for dinner with Santino later that evening. Tensions were running high for the two of them, especially considering how easily Santino seemed to cave to their will after the vote to make a plea to the Samarans.

For Jack, it put him on edge to see the savvy political operator like Santino give in so easily. Perhaps this dinner would be his chance at turning the tables on them.

Bill seemed to feel it too.

"Well, how far do you think we're going to get into this dinner before Santino tries to change our minds?" asked the old lord with a grin while he sat down next to Jack. "I'm going to say no more than five minutes. Maybe a little small talk to start with and then he's going to hit us with it."

Jack chuckled. "Only five minutes? My guess was going to be more like ten. He's going to try to butter us up a little before springing it on us. Just watch."

"How's he going to do it though?" said Bill. "He doesn't have anything to offer us, so how's he going to sway us against it? That's one thing that I can't figure out. He doesn't have any leverage right now."

Jack shrugged. "Something tells me that a man like Santino can always find leverage somehow. He's shrewd enough to have thought of an angle. That's why we need to be lockstep in our response tonight. We know this is the right course of action, and that's why the vote came out like it did. We are going to Samara one way or another. Santino will have to accept that no matter what."

Bill nodded his head in approval. "No matter what," he repeated. "It's nonnegotiable."

"I fully intend to have a pleasant dinner then," said Jack, relaxing somewhat. "And discuss how soon we can leave for Samara."

"Speaking of which, that reminds me of something I wanted to tell you," said Bill as his face became more serious. "We've been trying to get in touch with King Aedan of Picardy like you've requested. It hasn't been going well."

"Why is that?" asked Jack. "Are the messages not getting through to them?"

"We're not quite sure," admitted Bill. "Other messages sent out through the fleet have made it to other destinations but for some reason, there seems to be an almost blackout on messages from or to Picardy right now. We're getting nothing through in terms of a transmission."

That was definitely concerning for Jack. Just about everyone that he cared about in more than a professional way was on Picardy. If there was nothing coming through from the besieged country, it could only spell trouble.

"Please keep trying," said Jack. "Aedan was usually very good about getting messages sent back through. Unless something's happened there, I find it hard to believe that he would just ignore us."

"I'll keep trying," said Bill. "But I wanted you to know."

That knowledge didn't get the night started off on the right foot. Jack couldn't help but speculate about the situation in Picardy. Was Daban in trouble again? Were Kat, Abigail, and all the rest of his people still in mortal danger? Why wouldn't they transmit a message in response?

Those questions were still on his mind when Santino arrived and took his seat next to them. At first, Jack studied his face for any subtle signs of what he might say tonight. Santino's expressions were largely unreadable. His lips were taut and his eyes seemed calm, giving no inclination that he might be about to contest the vote from earlier. Jack was largely guarded until Santino started to speak.

"Thank you both for joining me for dinner," said Santino as a meager plate was put in front of all of them. "I'd hoped that we might start with some good news?"

Jack took a bite of his food and found it rather unsatisfying from the start. "What good news would that be?"

"What's left of the Apulian Navy is on its way to Arezzo," said the Director proudly. "I just received the message thirty minutes ago. It's not much in the way of vessels but we can add them to your force for when it comes time to engage the Swabians."

Bill made a surprised face. "That is good news. How many ships will be joining us?"

"About five destroyers and four frigates," said Santino with only a hint of embarrassment. "Nothing that big compared to what you have already but I figured something was better than nothing."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of," said Jack. "We need screens for the larger vessels. As many of them as we can get. It will be incredibly helpful to have them on our side."

At this point, Jack expected Santino to use the leverage of the ships to argue against the trip to Samara. He could already envision the request before it even happened. Santino would start off by claiming that since he was being a team player in giving over the ships, they would have to honor him on a good faith request.

All the Apulian Director had to do was speak what was surely on the tip of his tongue.

And yet, he surprised Jack and Bill with what came out of his mouth next.

"Indeed. The second item I wanted to discuss was the result of the vote this afternoon. It's obvious that it didn't go the way I would have liked. Samaran neutrality is so famous that I didn't think it right to even bother." Santino took a break to take a long sip of wine. "However, I will respect the result of the vote with only one exception."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

Santino let out the smallest smile. "That I will accompany you on the journey."

Both Jack and Bill exchanged astonished looks. It was so apparent that it made the Director chuckle softly.

"Don't act so surprised now," he continued before turning his attention back to his wine.

"You'll have to excuse us," said Jack. "It wasn't the reaction that we expected."

Santino nodded. "Probably not but if you're going to have any chance of success, you would be wise to bring me along. I know the Samarans better than anyone. I know how they think. They are another trader race as well, similar to your common Apulian, so common ground can be made there. I also know their rulers so my presence there will add weight to your request."

Jack was speechless, and judging by the look on Bill's face, he was in a similar position. He wanted to believe Santino that this change in heart was genuine, but because he knew so much about the man's past and his path to power, part of him was still skeptical.

"Why the change in heart, Santino?" Jack questioned. "I fully expected to come into this dinner and have to convince you that it was the right course. Not that I doubt your intentions, but to me this all seems too good to be true. What happened?"

It was a blunt speech, which to anyone else might be construed in a negative way. Instead of getting angry, Santino started to laugh again.

"I know when I'm beaten, Jack. Even though I don't think it is the best course, I will go along with it anyway out of respect to you. It's only because of you that we're still in Apulia right now and not vagabonds in a foreign land. Besides, Apulia is a republic above all things. I'm used to having the wrong side win an election and have to live with the consequences. I will consider this one of those times. And besides, when we do get to Samara and they turn us down, I will not hesitate to enjoy the change in circumstances." Santino's lips parted in a half-hearted grin, letting Jack know he was mostly joking.

"In that case, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth," said Jack as he reached across the table and offered his hand. "I welcome your presence on this trip. I thought to keep this a light affair with just the three of us and a fast ship."

Santino reached over to grasp Jack's hand. "Something I'm in favor of as well. We'll be able to move more quickly with lighter forces. Besides, we won't want to be away from Arezzo too long. We'll want to get to Dobele as soon as possible. Thankfully for us, the Samaran capital city is just a ways inland from the Slot, on the other side of Marmora."

"That might be a reason for increased security though," said Bill. "If the Swabians have concentrated their hold on Marmora, they may have brought their fleet to anchor in the city."

Santino shook his head. "I still have spies in the city. At this time, there's been no sighting of a Swabian fleet in the Slot. We have time but we have to move quickly."

"In that case, I was thinking about leaving tomorrow," said Jack as he drank his wine. "There's no time like the present to get moving."

"Tomorrow will work just fine for me," answered Santino. "I don't have many things to leave, and my men have already been instructed to work with General Chapman and to obey his orders like they came from me."

Jack remained astonished just at how well this evening was going. "Thank you then, Santino. I know this can't be an easy decision for you but I appreciate that you've been able to work with us. Especially in a time like this."

Santino let out a small grin. "You forget that I might have my own reasons for being in Samara. Personal reasons that are very dear to me."

All of a sudden it made sense to Jack. "Your wife and daughters?"

Santino nodded. "I had them go to Samara nearly a month ago when the Swabians first attacked. It's the first time that I've had to deal with a longer absence on their part. In other words, I miss my family, Jack. I long to see my children and to hold my wife once more. So if you're going to Samara, I will take the opportunity to see them as well."

"I'm sure they've missed you," said Jack.

"Yes, they have," replied the Director. "And it's important for them to see that our country still lives. That Apulia hasn't given up yet. I owe them that at least."

With that statement, dinner was over. Santino bid them all a quiet goodnight, leaving Jack and Bill to themselves.

"I'm still in shock," said Bill softly once the Director was gone. He emptied what remained of his wine glass into his mouth.

"I think I understand him a little more after tonight though," said Jack with a thoughtful expression. "He's a prideful man, yes, but what I've seen from him today shows me that we can work with him, even when he doesn't get his way. Truth be told, I was afraid of that and how he would act on that day but Santino managed to surprise me."

"A good surprise is a welcome one." Bill set his wine glass back on the table. "So I guess I should get ready to depart as well. We'll be leaving early in the morning, right?"

Jack nodded. "Yes, and I thought we might take theCanaria with us. From what I've seen of the ship, she's fast and well-armored for her size. She should do just nicely. We can hug the Samaran coastline and we should be able to skirt around Marmora without the Swabians any the wiser."

"I let Russell know then to have theCanaria readied for our arrival," replied Bill. "The Slot widens considerably around Marmora. If we get some rain that day, there would be no way for them to detect us."

"Good," replied Jack with enthusiasm. "Then tomorrow, we set out to enlarge the alliance."

Bill grinned. "Let's hope Santino will be as valuable in that endeavor as he claims to be."

*****

Being a lord was so incredibly boring.

Adalbert Avila couldn't help but to let his mind drift off when faced with the endless series of reports coming in from Cormfeld. It was nauseating work. So many things required his attention, things that he never would have imagined before assuming the lordship.

Regiments needed paid and they definitely needed a steady stream of supplies. This was his most important task at the moment as the army in Picardy couldn't fight without proper attention to the troops. He signed every order that came across his desk--from making sure to order more rifles for the new regiments to signing discharge papers for those that had been horribly wounded.

As boring as it was, at least it was entirely necessary.

It was the other tasks that came across his desk that were the more tedious ones.

His cousin seemed to rule Cormfeld with an iron fist, making every decision so that his underlings were left with nothing but to follow orders. It was preposterous that Adalbert had to approve orders for the food supplies at the mansion in Cormfeld or deal with judgment for local disputes and affairs.

It was one of the first things he would remedy once the war was over but that didn't mean it wasn't a royal pain in his ass dealing with it today.

All he wanted to do was attend to the battle at hand. He wanted to see Picardy totally conquered.

It did nothing for him that he was sitting in the palace at Daban once more, returned to glory after a year's absence while what remained of the allied army clung to the harbor. He wanted to see the Picards' last grip on their city loosened.

Thankfully for him, he was allowed to put aside the tedium to attend to General Ferberg, who was now knocking at the door for entry. Adalbert gestured for him to come in whereas the general soon sat down in the chair in front of his desk and put his feet up. For any other lord, Ferberg might have been crucified for such an action but seeing as he was the Emperor's general long before he was Adalbert's, he could get away with certain liberties.

"Hell's bells," swore the general as he wiped a layer of sweat from his brow. "Tenacious, those Picards are."

Adalbert looked over with interest. "I'm assuming you mean the ones by the docks?"

Ferberg nodded. "Clinging to their rocks like a cat in a storm. I've launched just about every mortar I can reasonably launch into the harbor to dislodge them but they still haven't moved."

"What about the tanks?" asked Adalbert.

Ferberg shook his head. "Too easily countered in the tight spaces at the entrance to the harbor. They have their teams that drop explosives on any tank that gets close. The problem now is that I have too many disabled tanks at the entrance which only adds to their defense. I've called off the tanks for the time being."

Adalbert rubbed his chin subtly. "I'm no soldier but what else is there left to try? Can we drop bombs on them using the airplanes?"

Ferberg snorted. "If I can patch up enough of ours to get back in the air. They've shot down too many of ours. I'm having every pilot go up with a secondary shooter from now on. We have to stop losing planes and pilots if we hope to finish this war off."

Adalbert said nothing else and looked back at the desk. He wasn't one to call into question Ferberg's methods as the general was one that was resourceful enough to get any task finished. He thought the Picards would have surely left the city by now after their foothold had been reduced to only a couple hundred square yards but they would certainly need one last push.

Ferberg seemed to be reading his mind. "I'm gathering the men for one last attack. An all-out assault that's going to hit the harbor from every possible angle. It doesn't matter to me how many men have to die but one way or another, we are going to be the total masters of Picardy by the end of day tomorrow."

"How many men do we have left to throw at the Picards?"

Ferberg thought for a moment before he answered. "About fifteen thousand after this last battle. They can only have a few thousand left. Their backs are against the water. It's time to go in for the killing stroke."

Adalbert listened to Ferberg go on about his plans for the next ten minutes before the general had to excuse himself. It was a solid plan in his opinion, made all the more useful by the allied unwillingness to use their naval weaponry on the city. So far, none of the ships in the harbor had fired on the part of Daban occupied by the Swabians, and Adalbert saw no sign this would change any time soon.

He could only shake his head at their stupidity. They would rather lose their city totally than allow a killing blow against the Swabian Army.

He was still chuckling at the thought and toying with the pistol at his desk when there was another knock at the door. Adalbert looked up to see Magda asking for entry.

What a poor and pitiful sight she'd become. For a woman who was once known as the Butcher of Blenheim, Magda had come full circle. She was little more than a sexual slave now, an unwilling participant in whatever debauchery that Adalbert could come up with. He'd fucked Magda more times than he could count, rutting into every orifice that she possessed.

Gradually, Adalbert watched as Magda's spirit drained away. What used to make her so fiery and passionate soon became nothing more than a dull ember. Her feelings were betrayed by her body language as well--her shoulders were slumped forward in defeat and her eyes no longer held any luster.

Magda was a broken woman and that's precisely how Adalbert wanted her. It was the most fitting payback for all the trouble she'd caused him, and every time they coupled, he enjoyed bringing on the next round of humiliation.

"Is it time for our fucking again, slut?" he asked, making a show at looking at his watch.

Magda answered him. "Yes, Lord Adalbert."

That in itself was enough to make him take notice. She rarely said anything anymore, being content to protest with her silence. When Adalbert looked into her eyes this morning, he saw that some of the luster had returned. There was a fire that was burning there once more, and Adalbert assumed that Magda had finally accepted her place beneath him.

Her surrender had finally achieved acceptance.

Adalbert was most eager to test out this new version of Magda and he started by snapping his fingers at her.

"Come over here now," he said as he grabbed his crotch. "This cock isn't going to suck itself."

She came over willingly and without words, sinking to her knees with ease as he pivoted his chair to allow her access. When she first became his sexual slave, he would have to push his cock into her mouth to get her started. Now, Magda did all the work herself, pulling down his trousers and slipping it into her mouth seamlessly.

Adalbert let out a long, low sigh as she began to suck. Her lips were indeed as magical as they looked--plump and inviting, they were heavenly as they slid around his manhood.

Adalbert allowed himself a moment of peace, closing his eyes as she polished his knob. This was truly the good life.

What he didn't realize was that he was correct about Magda's changed personality that morning. The spark of life in her eyes wasn't due to the sudden realization of her place beneath him though.

No, Magda hadn't accepted her fate whatsoever.

Today, she was going to put fate back in her own hands whether it killed her or not.

That's why her actions were deliberate to get Adalbert into this most exposed position. Even as she suckled on his erection, he was about to be taught the very same lesson of humiliation that he'd taught her.

Her eyes focused into a narrow glare on his face as she took in all of his cock in her mouth.

And then she bit down as hard as she could manage.

Adalbert let out a piercing scream at the sudden cessation of pleasure and the ongoing pain that now overwhelmed his body. Between his legs, Magda acted like a wild animal--a dog trying to wrestle a cherished bone away. His hands went to her face as he tried to push her away but she continued to snarl and bite in a way that defied humanity.