Spear of Destiny James Baldwin (free romance novels .TXT) 📖

a cannonball when I was born!” He cackled, toasting his mug to the clouds rushing over our heads. “Here’s to falling out of the fucking sky!”

He was echoed by lusty yowls from his troops as he slammed the rest of the tea back.

“By Khors’ beard.” Captain Vilmos muttered. “What is this... this... nonsense? We have forty minutes to contact!”

“Relax, dude.” I clapped him on the arm and grinned back at the roguish Meewfolk. “If he says they’re good go, they’re good to go.”

“Hahaha! You Vlachii, all of you tighter than a Mercurion’s asshole!” Taethawn leered down at Vilmos, then waved at one of his bloodriders, who took his mug and went to refill it. “Have a drink, Your Grace! It will help you enjoy the battle, mrah?”

“Here! Voivode! Drink!” A ginger-pointed warrior with chipped ears and a muzzle twisted by claw scars staggered over to me from the hearth. He pressed a mug into my hands. “Isss grassss! Grasssss makesss fast!”

“Your Grace-!” Vilmos winced as I sniffed the luke-warm liquid, and before he could stop me, I took a mouthful off the top. It wasn’t alcoholic—it really was just some kind of tea. It tasted like sweet mint mixed with lemon, oregano... and dirt?

“Don’t sweat it, man. I’m a fucking dragonrider. Whatever’s in this piss is nothing compared to what I had to go through to get Karalti. Mra’ha gai, motherfuckers!” I toasted the delighted Meewfolk, then chugged the rest to their roars of encouragement.

[You have learned a new Herbal recipe: Prrupt’meew Battlegrass Tea—a herbal stimulant and mild hallucinogen that grants increased speed, adrenaline regeneration, and resistance to pain at the expense of inhibition. Battlegrass Tea is only fully beneficial to Meewfolk, granting smaller buffs to humans and Lys. Onset of hallucinations is delayed by four hours.]

[You have discovered new herbs: Kraa’krai (Battlegrass), psilocybin mushroom (Bluestem Whitecap), Verbena, Catnip.]

The tea hit me with a flush of pleasant warmth that spread through my chest, all the way down to my fingers and toes. I checked my HUD: I had +1 to Dex, +5% adrenaline regen, and -10% pain resistance for four hours.

“What did I tell you boys? Our new Voivode isn’t some stuffy overgrown monkey!” Taethawn threw his arm around my shoulders, and pulled me in to rub his cheek against mine.

At the other end of the ship, I heard a round of cheers go up, and looked over to see Suri and Karalti drain their mugs before slamming them down.

“Vilmos? Feel like joining in some esprit de corps?” I offered him my cup, beaming toothily.

“Eyy…” He massaged his forehead. “I am too old, your Grace. By your leave, I will retreat to the command center.”

“Dismissed. Wish us luck.” I nodded to him. Vilmos saluted, and gratefully fled the deck as several Meewfolk began belting out one of the songs I’d taught them in a shrill chorus of hissing, off-key voices. “I saw an old lady walking down the street, with a chute on her back and jump boots on her feet! I said, ‘Hey old lady, where you goin’ to?’ She said ‘I’m going to the Army Airborne School!’”

“Your Grace, come with me!” Taethawn said, still hugging me around the shoulders. “As our leader, you must piss on the totem!”

“Piss on the what?” I repeated, not sure I’d heard him right.

“The totem! We carved an effigy of our enemy to mark, and we’ll throw it over the side of the ship for good luck!” Taethawn cheerfully dragged me toward the stern. “It is an ancient Prrupt’mrao tradition, very good for morale!”

Ahhh. The things military leaders had to do for the sake of morale.

The ships were packed with two hundred of Taethawn’s finest, Team Karalti and friends, and a platoon of Yanik Rangers led by Istvan and Zlaslo. We would deploy in three waves. Karalti and I were jumping first with the HI-5 ramjet. We were going to land right in the middle of the castle: the smaller Upper Ward, where Zoltan slept within the confines of the keep. The pair of us would take out any guards, disable alarms, and—if we could—seal the gated stairwells that connected the Upper Ward to the much larger Lower Ward. Once we’d done that, we would contact Suri and signal the second wave: a platoon of Rangers, who would join me and Karalti in the Upper Ward, and the Orphans Company assault force, who would land in the Lower Ward and fight anyone who came out.

“Commander! We’ve got to line ‘em up!” I called. “Thirty minutes til’ contact!”

Taethawn nodded, then huddled with his bloodriders. They all touched noses and rubbed cheeks, gabbering in their native tongue, then broke apart with an enthusiastic shout. The troops nearest them began scrambling as soon as they saw their officers straighten up, and the rest followed as the six of them began to yowl like air-raid sirens. The noise shut the party down almost instantly: the soldiers lined up as they’d been drilled to do, some of them still bouncing with excitement on their feet, while others checked and double-checked the improvised static lines we’d strung over the decks. I wove through the troops to join Karalti and Suri. Suri was cross-checking operation details in her HUD, and waggled her fingers at me, but didn’t look away. Karalti was looking over the edge of the railing, wiggling in excitement and gripping the straps of her chute.

“Ready to kick some ass?” I drew up beside her.

“Yeah!” She turned to me, her eyes bright and curious. “It feels weird to dive without wings. When I was practicing with Suri, I kept waving my arms around, trying to path through the air.”

“No tail, either.” The Bond tugged at me. I pulled her into a hug, and she wrapped her arms around my waist and cheeped, pushing her cheek up against my breastplate and rubbing it and