Free Warworld: The Lidless Eye by John F. Carr, Don Hawthorne Page B

those in sight and those reported by other messengers, they ran well over two thousand. That was a problem he hadn’t expected. What are we going to with a mob like this? They didn’t have any place to house them, or enough food to feed them.
    Five more defenders tramped up; to Hamilton’s relief one of them was Master-at-Arms Cromwell. Now he understood one of the reasons for sergeants, to keep officers from having to stand around obviously not knowing what to do next. He gave Cromwell orders for getting the prisoners to whatever safety this battlefield offered, then went back through the gates to find his grandfather.
    The Baron was standing in the middle of the courtyard when John came through the gates. The next moment he was at his grandson’s side.
    “Are you all right, John?”
    “I’m fine, Grandfather. But I’ve got some bad news.”
    “Were our casualties heavy?”
    “Just a handful, and only two dead I’ve heard of. The missiles took most of the fight out of them, that is, those who knew how or what to fight. I never saw such a pathetic bunch of townies and down-and-outers. It would take years to turn that rabble into a real army. Accordingto one of the prisoners, the only reason they didn’t hightail it after the first bombardment was their fear of getting shot in the back by Steele’s bodyguard.”
    The Baron nodded. “I didn’t expect much more than a rabble. Next time they’ll be better trained and prepared.”
    John winced, hoping this loss would take the fight out of them. He wasn’t looking forward to a rematch, especially one where they didn’t have surprise on their side.
    “The problem is we’ve got two thousand prisoners out there!”
    The Baron rubbed his hands together. “Good, good. That’s even better than I’d hoped for.”
    “What do you mean better? Where are we going to keep them? How are we going to feed them? If we can’t—”
    “Slow down, John. We need those men as badly as they need us, only they don’t know it yet.”
    “What?!”
    “John, how many able-bodied men do we have at Whitehall?”
    “Maybe three hundred, minus the casualties.” On one side of the courtyard he saw his sister bandaging some of the men-at-arms.
    “Right. Most of them are soldiers; they will be our knights. Where do you think we’ll get our peasants? Remember, a lord has to be self-sufficient. That means a labor force to turn this place back into a working farm. The estates of our friends and allies, too.”
    John laughed. “I should have known you’d have it all figured out, Grandfather. But there’s going to be more fighting before we can put crops in the ground.”
    “I know. I’m going to offer the prisoners an opportunity to take an oath. After putting in a few weeks building the new outer wall, I don’t think many will turn us down. It’s a long walk back to Castell, through hostile territory. All those farmers and villagers Steele terrorized on the ride here will be wanting payback. Those who do leave won’t be able to go along on the raid. They’ll miss the chance for women and booty—”
    “What raid? Women? Where?”
    “The cars and trucks that still run are going right back to Castell, carrying our soldiers. I think those clowns in the city need a few lessons on how to conduct a raid.”
    It made sense once John thought it over. A few raids on the outskirts of Castell City, and David Steele would be too busy defending his capital city to think of stealing anybody’s gold and silver. Either that or he’d be booted off his gimcrack “throne” for failing to defend his people. And since he’d probably lost a good percentage of his trustworthy officers in the attempt on Whitehall…
    “Grandfather, I almost feel sorry for David Steele. He should have remembered something when he decided to fight you.”
    “What, John?”
    “‘Don’t start anything you can’t finish.’”

Chapter Seven
    HAVEN 2640 A.D.
    At the point in the Byers System where the physics