93 Assaul

Salim Eran thought that boarding the airship early would make a good impression on his superiors. As the newest member of the Sons of Sand Mercenary Band, he was often the butt of inside jokes about his inexperience and clumsy ways. Salim wasn't like the other mercenaries; he was basically a fresh graduate from the Italim branch of the Ceres Metro Magic Academy.

They were supposed to be on standby. Apparently some troublesome creatures were headed toward the city and they just might be sent out to bombard them from above. Maybe. If the Desert King felt bored enough to pay them for it. But the Red Fangs and the Red Claws were cheaper, and most of the time, if he could get away with sending only the cheaper mercenaries, the Desert King wouldn't splurge by calling out the SOS.

But Salim figured he might score a few points with management if he made a good impression during this standby period. They probably won't be sent out, everyone knew it. Half the guys weren't even getting out of bed.

Anyway. Salim put on his new mercenary armor, picked up his fireball staff and marched himself to the airship boarding ramp.

That was when all hell broke loose.

First, the mechanic next to the airship entrance shrieked in his ear loudly enough to make his head spin. Then, the moron threw up his can of spray paint into the air and all but shoved Salim right off the boarding ramp. Salim stumbled, almost falling off the ramp and dropping fifty feet to his untimely demise.

There was another armored mage behind him, one of his fellow graduates from the academy, likewise trying to make a good impression; he wasn't so lucky. The mechanic guy bowled him right over the boarding ramp and he went down, down, down, protesting his innocence in a long, wordless wail.

Salim took a minute before he could make out why everyone was panicking so badly. There was a massive surge of colorful figures down on the ground, so many and so fast that he couldn't even make out what they were at first.

But then one particular figure dashed up the airship dock and onto the boarding ramp quicker than Salim could eat bread and cheese. It charged straight for Salim with a terrifying squeak.

"Giant rats!!" Salim gasped. In the stories, giant rats were always the first enemy of new, brave adventurers, and they usually fought in a cellar someplace, but this…?! He'd signed up to be airship support staff, simply providing mana to airship engines and equipment. Fighting giant rats in the airport hangar wasn't in the job description! Not to mention how many there were…

For goodness' sake, this wasn't why he'd gone to Italim to study! He went to study there to get away from the desert, from Fal'Herim's icky creatures and endless strife, he wanted to fly high above it all…

But who knew that upon graduation, nobody would take a guy from Fal'Herim except the Desert King's own people? A job above the clouds rather than among the sands was already the best he could get.

Yet here he was, still on the ground, still fighting monsters like all his childhood neighbors who had to deal with sand wyrms every day.

"It's not fair!!" Salim howled, pointing his fireball staff at the fastest 'giant rat' charging at him. "Fireball!"

The critter dodged the first shot, face turning fierce as the fire almost singed its whiskers. Salim aimed again, trying not to let his hands shake, trying not to shriek as he triggered the staff. "Fireball!"

The furry monster dodged again! It was like the giant rat-thing actually understood what Salim was going to do, like it could even understand what he said! It was on top of him before he could fire off a third shot, and leapt practically onto his face.

"WHOA!" Salim couldn't help shrieking then, feeling those cold, hard claws on his neck.

"Squiikiik!" the creature squeaked at him demandingly.

"What?" Salim blinked. "What do you want?"

In response, the fellow picked up his fireball staff and pointed it at Salim.

"WHOA!! Be careful with that! It's dangerous!" Salim backed off, scrambling backwards toward the airship entrance. He was almost there. A little more, and…

The 'giant rat' dashed past Salim, into the airship, fireball staff at the ready.

"Squiik!" a warcry sounded.

BOOM! A fireball erupted inside the airship, and screams followed. By Khar'al-dras, did that monster just use his fireball staff?! Management was going to be so pissed at him for losing it…

"Squikiik!" the critter emerged again, pointing the staff at Salim threateningly. "Squiiik!"

"What? What do you want?!" Salim was chagrined. Why didn't he run away? Why had he remained here, on the boarding ramp…

"He demands that you get on board or he'll fry you." A voice said from behind him.

Salim turned to see a young boy dressed in Ashdale-style clothing with another captured fireball staff pointed at him. That must have been from the other graduate mage who fell off the boarding ramp earlier. This young boy had dozens of other giant rats at his side. He didn't seem afraid of them. He didn't seem like he was going to cast fireballs at them. In fact, it looked like they were guarding him.

"You?" Salim figured it out easily enough. "You brought these giant rats upon us?!"

"I command the lynxmice, yes." The boy grinned. "Now, get on board, slowly, and bring us to the command center!"

***

Meanwhile, the two Fal'Herim Sky Galleons and the skiff had advanced toward Spike's position… at a crawl. They couldn't say they didn't dare approach, they couldn't back off… but they didn't need to rush forward when there was a killer frigate in the clouds either. So they advanced; very, very slowly.

At the rate they were going, the wolfcats would catch up to Spike before they arrived.

***

Also around that time, lynxmice were pouring into key strategic locations around Fal'Herim from underground tunnels; the Fal'Herim army arsenal, the Desert King's harem, the palace kitchens and the dairy product storage of the north bazaar.

They stole weapons and ammunition. They caused such a ruckus and panic in the harem that the entire palace was effectively paralyzed. The Desert King himself was overrun and nearly trampled by screaming wives and concubines while dozens of lynxmice scrambled around their rooms, their tables, their wardrobes and even their baths… several guards were later ordered to commit suicide for seeing the king's wives running out of the baths naked and shrieking with their arms waving while being chased by squads of lynxmice.

Most importantly, they raided all the cheese in both the royal kitchens and the market bazaar. Having rendered both the government and the public markets of Fal'Herim cheeseless, the raiding parties began to expand their interests to include sausage and butter.

Each of these locations were overwhelmed by hundreds of lynxmice, in the case of the north bazaar, thousands… but soon the people of Fal'Herim began to fight back, inflicting casualties upon the lynxmice horde with magic, swords, spears, axes, kitchen knives, dogs, a rolling pin and several frying pans.

With their military's attention stuck on Spike outside Fal'Herim and their police force embroiled in chaos within, almost nobody noticed when the Desert King died.

Actually, that wasn't even part of the plan. The assault upon the harem was supposed to be a distraction, something to paralyze and preoccupy the Desert King and his officers while Tim and Mikai got away with their greatest airship. That military-grade battle galleon was the trump card of Fal'Herim's forces. With two of the three military-grade airships on their side and the third down in the dust, Remian had hoped to come to terms with the defanged Desert King.

Nobody expected him to die under the frenzy of his own harem.

But there it was. Strangled by his concubines, trampled by his wives, pulled at and hidden behind from all sides, the Desert King choked, gasped, spluttered, and keeled over, dead.

Even so, his wives and concubines went on tugging at him. His top three wives had taken the opportunity in the chaos to argue and fight, each demanding that he came with them. His favorite concubine had wrapped her loving arms around his neck very, very tightly from behind while she shut her eyes and screamed into his back. Several of his women had come to blows, and in three cases, had shed blood. Five of his wives and two concubines died in the ensuing struggle.

The lynxmice didn't realize any of that had happened. They were just happily chasing shrieking women around their house. Tim had no idea what had happened in the palace. He was just happy to be able to fly that airship out of Fal'Herim with the help of Salim and three of the original crews, held hostage by a hundred lynxmice, a boy and two fireball staves. Remian most certainly couldn't know; he was powering up the main cannon of a military frigate that was carefully sneaking up behind the two Fal'Herim Sky Galleons slowly edging towards Spike.

All told, it was a very bad day for Fal'Herim…