Battle for the Wastelands by Matthew W Quinn

Author:Matthew W Quinn [Quinn, Matthew W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781713192367
Published: 2019-12-25T22:00:00+00:00

He found Owen beneath the tarp, cleaning his own rifle.

“I saw you with one of the traders earlier. What the hell’s going on?”

Owen sighed. “That piece of shit thought I’d joined the Merrills even after most of our Houses — the great families of my people – knelt to the Flesh-Eaters. The heads of the Houses disowned the ones who did, to protect themselves. The ones who left get called ‘cast-out.’ They don’t have a House to protect them, and we’re too dependent on the ones trading with us on the sly to make a stink. When he found out I was from House Gollmar, it got worse.”

“Why?”

“My pa was part of House Gollmar, but Ma was a flatlander from Pendleton. Most of the Houses would cast out anybody marrying an outsider, but my grandfather thought it a good idea to have ties with the towns.”

That would explain the smaller nose. But he’d been brought up among the trading folk, not in some town they’d visited. Andrew’s scalp prickled. Perhaps the Gollmars weren’t so bad.

But the ones who’d joined the Merrills came from other clans too. He paused. He could ruminate on that later.

“And the other Houses didn’t approve?”

“That’s part of it. The real issue is they’re ashamed.” Andrew didn’t expect that. “We stood by the Merrills even after Grendel killed James Merrill at Fairmont. Most of the Houses switched sides or at least went neutral.” Pride entered his voice. “Grandpa kept his word. We beat the war drums all night for Alonzo and sent the Flesh-Eater emissary who demanded tribute and submission back with his boots shoved down his throat. We kept his scalp.”

Andrew laughed at House Gollmar’s sheer balls. Owen scowled. “Two hundred Gollmar soldiers and maybe one hundred shootists who didn’t run away against a whole army of Flesh-Eaters. It was insane, but what’s the point of making a promise you don’t keep? The other Houses didn’t have the guts.” He frowned. “Who knows if it would have made a difference?”

Andrew’s eyes widened. That definitely didn’t seem like something a pikey would say. “What happened?”

Owen’s scowl deepened. “What do you think? We raided the forces besieging Pendleton and got our asses whupped. We killed a lot of the bastards, but they outnumbered us and had some damn big guns — not just mortars, but the kind that fire from so far away you can’t see them. Howitzers.” He sighed. “The Flesh-Eater commander thought himself funny. He gathered up all the bodies and made jerky. He sold them around and called them ‘Gollmar bars.’”

Andrew didn’t laugh. “How’d you survive?”

Owen closed his eyes. “When it was obvious we were losing, Grandpa led an attack on the enemy command post to distract the bastards and sent the women and kids away. I was one of the youngest bearing arms. They put me of all people in charge on account of everyone else being needed for the attack.”

He sighed. “Everyone else died, but around a hundred got out. The horsemen stopped chasing us once we got out into the sand.

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