Friends (2013) - Adams, Robert

One of these broad-shouldered madmen comes up to El Supremo and goes, “God-Milo, will we be attacking on the morrow?”

Old God-Milo gives his handsome head a little shake and goes, “No, Sekstuhn, we have almost an impregnable defensive formation here. We’ll make the Union kath-ahrohee come to us, if they want to.”

Another thing, sweetie: It sure does make a warrior woman’s mind rest totally easy to hear she’s like impregnable.

Anyway, when Sekstuhn took the news back to his buddies, I go, “Coi/-Milo?”

Milo just shrugged with an embarrassed smile on his face. “What can 1 say?” he goes. “Being immortal impresses my men as godlike.”

“There is no god but Milo, and Prince Bili is his prophet,” I go. “Let’s see you make a tree, I’m so sure."

“Get some rest, Mahreenah.”

So 1 go, “ Bag it, Milo.” But I did catch some Z’s.

The next morning, before first light, the whole Confederate line was buzzing with activity. We all ate a light breakfast and drank plenty of water; there probably wouldn’t be any time to like stop and refresh ourselves during the battle. We checked over our weapons and horses and waited. After a while, right, we checked them again. We were all restless, you know, waiting for the Ehleenee to like get their act together.

If I’d known what I was going to witness—and be a part of—I might totally have bailed out of there before dawn. I still have nightmares, you know? There was only one word to describe the fighting: totally B-L-O-O-D-B-A-T-H. I mean, it was one thing to lop the heads off green Martians and great apes, ’cause they were just storybook things to me. I didn’t even believe in them while I was like cutting them to shreds. But maiming and killing people, that was completely Mondo Bummer.

The Union army had this idea, see, that they could bust through our lines. They were overconfident and they were like such total jels that they kept bonking themselves on our strong points. They’d make a charge at the left end of the line, squirm their way almost to the top of Cemetery Ridge, and then realize too late that they were no way going to cut through King Gilbuht’s Harzburkers. The Blue Bear guys would work the Union butts until the Ehleenee would all go screaming EEK! back down the ridge. Then they’d try the Zunburk boys in the middle of the line. Same thing, like tell me about it. All morning that went on, back and forth. 1 held back at the beginning, trying to get the rhythm of it. Then I saw that the spazzy Greeks were working up to another run at the left. I kicked up Mr. Ed and went charging down on them. I don’t know what got into me. I just got carried away, so beat me. I was lucky that the folks from the Duchy of Vawn got all revved, too, and came hollering and thundering behind me. In a minute 1 could hear them chanting: “Mahreenah Ahnaiyeestah! Mahreenah Ahnaiyeestah!” Like I was totally Sergeant York or somebody, I’m sure.

We slammed into the Ehleenee in a peach orchard. I didn’t have time to be nervous, it was all I could do to stay alive. The first Union geek who took a run at me, I caught his sword on' mine and turned it to the inside. While he was struggling to wind it back up, I just jabbed the point of my longs word through his throat. It was so easy I laughed. Felt like spearing a marshmallow on the end of a stick or something.

A big cheer went up. I was a hero! I thought, “Maureen honey, you’ve done your part. Why don’t you just trot yourself back up the hill and take ten?” But Mr. Ed was sending me these awful bioodlusty images. She was just itching to tromple somebody, I’m totally sure. It was like if / wanted to go back, I’d have to do it on foot, because Mr. Ed was not about to leave the battle. So I stayed, too. Horse and rider are one, I’m telling you, and you can’t just leave your fourlegged friend in the middle of a battlefield—Bad Show, Just Not Done.

I stood in the stirrups and nearly decapitated another Ehleenee slimeball before he could even unlimber his swordarm. Another cheer went up. I turned to flash the boys a courageous smile. While my head was turned, jeez, two of the bad guys came at me and like I never even saw them. One huge brawny Vawn person behind me spurred up and took out the nearer of the Ehleenee. He had time to deflect the second Ehleenee’s swordthurst, but he deflected it right at me. I felt this way gross pain, like I’d been slashed right where my neck meets my shoulder. Didn’t break any bones, but it hurt like holy hell. 1 went through my screaming and swearing number again, and I got a worried message from Mr. Ed. The Vawn cutie who came to my rescue turned around and supported me in the saddle while I gnashed my teeth and acted like wholly unladylike.

But then the bleeding stopped, and even wickeder, the wound closed and the pain went away. I thought I heard shouting from the axe-and-blade boys before; you should have like heard them when 1 showed 1 was, you know, halfway immortal myself. “Mahreenah! Mahreenah!” 1 could have totally sold them anything from then on. But business called.

I led the Thoheeks of Vawn’s brigade into the midst of the Ehleenee; and finally, after I’d sort of accounted for a dozen or so of the mega-nerds, they decided to book it out of there. We let them go and turned to reform on the ridge. No time to rest, though, ’cause like another batch of Union zods were trying us to the north. I let Mr. Ed take me to the action. It seemed to me that this battle was like shaping up just the same as the Civil War battle. No biggie, the defensive lines were in the same places, for the same reasons, you know? Cemetery Hill and Cemetery Ridge were the logical places to make a stand. Well, I knew that sooner or later, the Union was going to try the right again, making a bid for Cemetery Hill and Culp’s Hill. I just didn’t know when. All this time the fighting must have been Heat City down at Devil’s Den, and 1 warned Milo to send some boys down to fully case it around.

About now I see this old, old dude walking up the back of the ridge. I go, “Just what we need, I’m sure, a spy." So I bounce over to him and I go, “My good man.”

“This’s the battle, ain’t it?” he goes.

Total Dudley. “Yup,” I go.

“I come here to help out.”

Now, it is slightly obvious to me that Nathan Hale here is like completely ancient, seventy years old and gray and grizzled, with this dinged-up old sword over his shoulder. I thought it was sweet of him to offer, but a warrior woman and leader like myself can’t take the time to watch after these like sightseers. 1 start to open my mouth to tell him, you know, that we all appreciated his guts and all, but . . .

He rushes past me, whips his sword in a circle over his dumb-bunny bald head, and hacks down an Ehleenee son of a bitch who had almost snuck up on me. I blinked at the geezer, you know, totally freaked, but I didn’t know what to say. He looked up at me. Finally I go, “Very good. Carry on,” like I was this rockin’ steady Milo Morai type, which I’m not when I’ve almost been killed.

I didn’t see much of Grandpa until after the battle. He went on to collect three totally hairy wounds for himself and whole slews of new notches on his sword. Whoa Nelly, life in the old fox yet, I’m sure.

So it was like that all morning and all afternoon: one surge after another, dinking one part of our lines and then another. We met each charge, though, and the shouting and clanging of swords and the death-cries of Union and Confederate dudes were fully ready to drive me dizzy. There was nothing to do but hang in there and put up a good fight, especially when your horse wants to gallop into the heaviest part of the action, right, and doesn’t know the meaning of the word “retreat.”’ I knew the meaning, but Mr. Ed must have been absent the day they were teaching that one.

The Moon Maidens were our artillery all this time, but Milo couldn’t spare any infantry to like support them. They softened up the Ehleenee with their arrow showers well before the enemy got into sword range, so every rush up the side of the hills cost the Union plenty even before they touched steel with us. As the sun set, Strahteegos Lahmbrohs, the Dim Bulb, had a big part of his army like totally lying on their bellies all along the ridge, really just yards from the Confederate positions. The Ehleenee had gotten within feet— okay, within inches sometimes—of overrunning our brave dudes, but every time, just at the maximum moment, the Union rebels lost their drive, or the Confederate regulars and their Freefighter pals found like a new hardness of will. At last, that part of Lahmbrohs’ strength was totally used up, and the men hung on to the side of the ridge, waiting for dawn and another order to like attack.

But Lahmbrohs was not ready to call it quits just on account of night was coming on, okay? He made one last push against the far right of the line, like on Cemetery and Culp’s hills. That attack was more successful, like they actually broke through the defense and charged into the unprotected Moon Maidens. 1 was still mounted and ready, although I was about to like rolf, for sure, i was so totally wasted. I didn’t know if 1 could handle another fight, but 1 go, “Maureen, honey, go for it, party hearty.” Mr. Ed, bless her little heart, was right with me, so off we went to save Moon Maidens. I mean, they never so much as laid a “ hi ” on me before the battle, but I’m not one to like be all stuck-up about something like that, you know? Right.

Well, there was one furious fight in the twilight. The Moon Maidens stood their ground like good little girls, and pelted the Greeks with like a nonstop hailstorm of deadly arrows. A Pitzburker veteran told me like he’d never seen anything so terrible and bloody. I never even had a chance to use my sword—the Moon Maidens were skewering their attackers faster than reinforcements could get close. After a while there were no more Ehleenee willing to like stand up against these like totally excellent archers.

Night fell, but wouldn’t you like know it, 1 wasn’t done yet. I was leading Mr. Ed down to a stream to water her, right, with four or five other tired Confederate buddies, and like we look up and on the other side of the water there’s this lame bunch of Union men. So we went at it right there, hand-to-hand, and it didn’t take long to totally burn those dudes. We didn’t get one scratch between us. It was just like this pointless hassle that kept me from supper and had me fully edged, I’m sure.

There was a strategy meeting in Milo’s tent, set up all secure behind our lines. Milo talked, we listened. He goes, “Tell your soldiers that they all did a fine job today, but the battle isn’t over yet.”

Prince Byruhn of New Kuhmbuhluhn goes, “Where do you think Lahmbrohs will hit us tomorrow?”

“He failed today on both flanks, again and again,” Milo goes. “I am almost certain that he will concentrate on our center, at dawn.”

“He still has a couple of thousand men spread out on the face of Cemetery Hill,” said Strahteegos Klaytuhn of Pitzburk.

“I haven’t forgotten them. They won’t get any sleep tonight, and they’re exhausted. When the sun comes up, the fighting between your Freefighters and those weary Union boys will start up by itself. I don’t expect they will stay in the battle very long. They are almost spent as it is.”