“That’s why I went with the long johns for my super hero suit,’ Petra replied. “The fabric’s stretchy and it breathes.”
“Stop!” a voice called out through the darkness. About fifty feet further along, near the end of the tunnel, Mortimer and Tobias stood, their guns drawn, blocking further access into the cavern containing the Martian vessel. “We have more bullets than you have sisters,” it was Mortimer who spoke. “You’re done, little man-king. We are going to carve you up and smother you in gravy.”
The Squire seemed undeterred, ignoring Mortimer’s bravado and focussing instead upon his friend. “Tobias, step aside, we mean to stop Thomas. There are only two of you, I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Hurt, the little usurper says. That’s rich!” Mortimer spoke in a mocking tone, grinning the sort of grin the schoolyard bully wears before putting a beating to the runt of the class. “Only ones who is going to feel any hurt is you three when Thomas gets done punishing you for your heretical and treasonous deeds!”
“Martin,” Tobias stepped forward, “Have you gone mad? What do you think you are doing?”
“Tobias, Thomas has no chance,” said the Squire. “You can’t win. Even if all the brethren came to fight beside you. I control the sisters.”
“Until they get hungry and you have no food to feed them,” said Tobias. “Controlling the sisters also requires caring for the sisters. Have you a plan?”
“He may not, but I do!” Mortimer charged forward and without warning landed a solid punch just below the Squire’s sternum. As Malus bent double, trying to catch his breath, the two sisters accompanying them attacked Mortimer and Tobias with mind boggling speed. In a blink, the two Dunsany guards were brought to the ground with a savagery so swift they hadn’t even had the time to raise their arms in defense.
“Stop!“ the Squire managed to choke out, his breath just now coming back. “Don’t kill them.”
“Mercy, a questionable quality in one with aspirations of leadership” a deep, gravelly voice commanded everyone’s attention. Malus spun to face Thomas and a half dozen of the Dunsany brethren. Thomas appeared to be wearing some sort of metal frame over his head, though it did not cover his face.
“It’s over Thomas,” the Squire straightened his jacket and smoothed his pants. “I have the sisters. Things are going to change now.” as though on cue to emphasize the Squire’s claim the remaining complement of sisters seemed to materialize out of the shadows, flanking the Squire, Petra and Emerson.
“Yes,” Thomas paused, his face impossible to read. “Things are going to change now.”
The Dunsany leader raised his hand and it was only then that the others noticed he was holding a small box from which he pulled out a long antenna, turned a dial and pressed several buttons. Nobody spoke, all sensing the imminence of something significant.
As the seconds ticked by, however, Emerson was the first to fidget. “Don’t stress over it, Prince, I have trouble with technology too, sometimes.”
“Silence!” Thomas adjusted the dials; a moment later a disturbing sibilance, and odd shuffling sound could be heard from the cavern behind the deposed prince.
“Holy Crapperoni!” Petra whispered as the cadaverous, Martian army, exoskeletons clink-clanking, marched from the darkness. “I’m going to need a bigger bat.”
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