The Euranian Knights

The Euranian Knights C2: Taking Command

August 3, Present Day
Salt Lake City, Utah

Gabe told his mom about the dreams. She was busy mixing eye shadow colours and so even though she kept saying things like  “Oh wow”, and “Interesting”, she was obviously missing most of what he told her, but Gabe was used to it.

As a result, he wrote them down. Each night that he had one he would wake up and write it immediately. He would continue to do this until the dreams stopped.

August 1, Two Days Earlier
Summre Citie, Euraniah

“So tell me,” Gabe said to Colonel Hanuk, commander of the guard at Lionheart Castle and First Chief Assistant to the Office of the King of Euraniah, “I wake up in the morning and the first thing I get from you is a war report. Can’t you say something like ‘Breakfast is on the way’ or at least tell me who my first callers are?”

The two of them were walking on the top of the wall, where there was a place for archers to fire at the field in front of the gate. Along this, there were several guards posted with crossbows and handheld spyglasses.

“Euraniah is in a state of Emergency, DEFSTAT V to be precise. That means everything goes in order of critical importance.”

“Sir!” One of the guards approached them from the end of the bulwark and stopped in front of them, his heels snapping like popcorn in the microwave.

“What is it?”

“Your Highness—”

“Don’t call me a highness, or a majesty. It’s just plain sir, or colonel. Go ahead.”

“Sorry your— um, sir. I’ve just seen a group of scouts under the edge of the forest. They were riders under an Amconasian standard. They looked like military surveyors.”

“Well. deploy a four-shift guard. Hunuk, I think that’s your specialty. I want the forests watched, but challenge no one, just keep an eye open. If a bird swears, I want to hear of it.”

For the rest of that day and all the next, the Euranians waited for the inevitable attack of the Anti-Monarchical Community Of National And Social Independent Allies, commonly abbreviated to Amconasia. The land and people had once been Euranian, but a charming young man known as Cing James converted the Iron Gate militia, the strongest joint south of Summre Citie, into a rebellious force, closing the gates and cutting off the entire south third of the continent. The non-militant people living there, as you can imagine, were thrilled.

But on the morning of the third of August, the battle march was heard by sentries, and the trumpets were blown. A field of red uniforms began marching into the field, their boots pounding the earth like so many drums in unison.

The column stopped about 70 yards away from Lionheart Castle’s golden gate. Gabe began to study the enemy’s layout.

“They have a row of 12-pounders just here.” Lieutenant Kintre, the military advisor directly under Gabe, pointed to places on the digital map. “The horsemen will ride in just after they run out of ammunition which, knowing them, will not be for a while. They will fire on our men and on the castle.”

“What do you suggest?”

Kintre was taken aback, no leader had ever asked for his advice. “If I may — move your guns up here to get a closer and less exposed shot. I will deploy some H-13s to bombard their gunpits. If they start moving forward, I will utilize your guns and mortars — if you move them — to impede their progress while the men take position behind the archers.”

“It’s a plan!” Gabe turned to give orders. “Carry it out. See Kintre for the details; just keep me posted.”

Everyone walked out except Kintre, who gaped after the king in shock.

August 1
Summre Citie, Euraniah
1137 Euranian Standard Time (EUST)

Gabe boarded the XV-40 aircraft — one of those where the wings tilt back. However, unlike the Marines’ Osprey, this had four, turboprop engines. This feature made the plane perfect for viewing the battle as it was less susceptible to being crippled by shrapnel. There was still, however, a serious danger of being shot down directly. As much as Hanuk argued, the pilot insisted that Gabe take the flight, and Gabe agreed.

Because of the fact that the H-13s were flying bombs, Gabe’s pilot had to fly much higher than usual, and Gabe viewed the scene with the search camera.

Now the mission to destroy the cannon lines was a failure. As soon as the bombs were dropped, a sniper on the anti-aircraft gun destroyed them. Only three of the pits were destroyed totally. The enemy began to use the remaining 17 immediately.

Afterwards, the Euranian Archers began firing their arrows. These were lead spears that were fired from a better-than-standard bow but made entirely of metal, specifically lead. There was a fairly unlimited supply because the forgers made new arrows out of the enemy’s spent projectiles. Euranian historians would call this the battle of the Rolling Green, and it went on this way for quite some time.

1206 EUST

Sometime after the sun stopped glaring off of the cannon-sights, and the rain of lead became thicker, one of the AA bombs exploded on the aircraft’s wing and blew out both right engines. The pilot threw the stick forward, leveling the wings. The right wing did not completely right itself, resulting in a perpetual roll to the left.

“Have you ever used a hang-glider?” The pilot briefly turned to Gabe.

“Yes. There’s this beautiful place in Tennessee called Lookout Mountain. My dad actually thought it was worth his time.

“You will be ejected backward out of the cargo bay. It will feel backwards at first but the catapult cannot compensate for the aircraft’s speed, so you’ll come out at about 160 mph. It’s a long way down. Don’t go out to sea, and don’t dawdle above enemy lines. Get straight to Euraniah.

“Go into the cargo bay, and grab the harness. When you’re ready — and you’d better hurry — pull the red cord and start praying.”

Gabe went back into the bay. The glider was attached to a strange sort of tension catapult, marked with the Euranian Air-Ops Emblem. Gabe reached for the harness, hoping he had a little time before the plane crashed.

Suddenly, the plane lurched to the right. At that moment the cargo door was being opened. Gabe flailed wildly as he slid down the floor.

Praise God! Gabe managed to grab one of the airdrop dividers on the floor. It was burning hot, and Gabe yelped in pain as he let go. He slid further, his fingers sliding along the cargo surface until they latched onto the divider at the very end of the bay. His body was resting on the door, and he used the grooves to pull himself up. After saying a silent prayer, he separated the parts of the harness.

There was a loud explosion. The aircraft’s nose lifted violently. Gabe wondered if the pilot was okay because the plane continued to move sporadically. For a few seconds, the plane dove, and then suddenly pulled back. The weightless feeling suddenly turned to the hard slam on the floor, and Gabe watched the plane fly away from him as he fell.

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