Free The Dying Time (Book 2): After The Dying Time by Raymond Dean White

questioned.
    “Mostly Indians, or gangs of criminals, Your Majesty,” Nicolo explained. “There are several bands of nomads roaming those mountain states. Militarily, they are of no consequence.” The King nodded, satisfied for the moment.
    “Colonel Janko reports he’s mopping up a few pockets of resistance, but aside from the Kingman seaport, which is well fortified, Arizona can be considered secure. In Wyoming, our men took Sheridan and Laramie, then attacked a large tribe of Indians...” He paused to take a sip of water. He was coming to the hard part. The King and both Princes could hear a “but” coming.
    John couldn’t wait. “But?”
    “They were defeated.” Nicolo shrugged helplessly, knowing that he had only delivered the appetizer. He really wasn’t looking forward to the main course.
    “How?” King Joseph demanded.
    “The reports are confused, Your Majesty,” Nicolo began. “Some of the men say the main body was wiped out in a landslide, but others say they were being beaten badly before then.”
    Silence descended over the room while the King and his sons digested this. There would have to be reprisals.
    At last the King spoke and there was steel in his voice. “Who was in command?”
    “A Colonel Reynolds, Your Grace.”
    “Was he among the survivors?”
    “No, my King.”
    “Then have his family put to death. I cannot allow such incompetence to go unpunished.”
    “Yes, Your Majesty.” Nicolo scribbled a note on a pad he carried. So far, so good. At least the Royal Temper hadn’t focused on him yet.
    “What about Utah and Colorado?” John asked.
    Nicolo swallowed hard. This was the main course. He hoped it would go down as easily as the appetizer.
    “We haven’t heard from the Utah battalion. None of their messengers met the last ship. In fact...”
    “And Colorado?” John smelled blood.
    “Our forces were, uh, destroyed,” Nicolo gulped. Best get it over with.
    “WHAT?” The King shouted. He slammed his massive fists onto the table, causing it to jump.
    Nicolo flinched, but stood his ground. Not so much from bravery. He was just too scared to move. When he found his voice he loathed the quiver in it. “We just don’t know what happened in Utah, Your Majesty. And so far only one man has made it back from the Colorado raid. He says our men were strafed by tiny planes and helicopters. He wasn’t very clear on the details, Sire, just that they had an air force.”
    “What place were we attacking in Colorado?” the King asked. From the menace in his tone and the red flush on his face, it appeared his temper was approaching critical mass.
    “The Freeholds, Your Majesty.” Nicolo pointed to a map. “Southwest of Denver.”
    “And you say they have planes and helicopters?”
    “Well, uh, not real planes, like those Your Majesty commands. That is, they weren’t any kind of planes our man had seen before.”
    “And why didn’t we know about these planes before we attacked?” Off to the side, Jamal Rashid and Prince John exchanged pleased glances. Nicolo wasn’t a special favorite of theirs and it was good to see him taken down a notch or two.
    Nicolo cringed mentally. That sort of question put his competence as commander of the Royal Intelligence Service in doubt. He would have to answer carefully.
    “When the rangers scouted them, there was nothing to suggest they had an air force, my King,” he said with almost imperceptible emphasis on the word rangers. “The Freeholds looked like just another settlement of farmers. There was no airstrip, no hangars, not even a windsock.” That should do it. After all, the rangers weren’t part of his command. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t do their job right. They were part of the King’s Army.
    “I see,” the King glowered. “So my rangers were at fault, eh. And where, Bonetti, where the hell were your spies?”
    God, Nicolo thought, feeling the sweat pop out on his brow. So now I’m Bonetti. When he’s pleased he