The Eastern Front(120)

Three times the Swedish bastard and his armies had brought murder, destruction and rapine into Poland. There wouldn't be a fourth.



A Scotsman's shout alerted Jönsson. Twisting in his saddle, he saw at least two dozen hussars racing toward him.

No, most of them were racing toward the king. Gustav Adolf wore no distinctive insignia. But he was a big man, and an imperious one on a battlefield. Whether or not the oncoming hussars knew his exact identity, they obviously realized he was some sort of top commander.

As children, Polish hussars-in-the-making heard the same advice children everywhere got from their elders. To kill a snake, cut off its head.

A number of them set out to do so.



Gustav Adolf heard Anders' cry of warning. When he saw the hussars coming his way, he swung his horse to face them, sword in his hand. He had two wheel-lock pistols in saddle holsters, but he wouldn't have time to use them.

He'd always turned down the many offers of up-time pistols. Despite their obvious advantages, he simply didn't like the things. They didn't feel right. Childish, perhaps, but there it was. If the king of Sweden, emperor of the USE, high king of etc., etc., insists he don't need no steenkeeng up-time pistol, how are you going to make him take it?

The first hussar's lance came at him. The king swatted it aside and struck the man down as he passed.

A mighty stroke it was, too. Hussars were heavily armored, but Gustav Adolf had fought them before so he knew what to expect. His blade avoided the heavy cuirass altogether and passed just under the helmet's ear flap, with its characteristic heart emblem decoration. The neck is always a vulnerable part of any armor, especially for a man strong enough to drive a sword through whatever mail protection might be there.

The king of Sweden was a very strong man, and he loved swords and knew how to use them. The hussar's head stayed with the body, but the man was dead before he fell out of the saddle. His neck had been cut halfway through.

A second hussar was there. Frantically, Gustav Adolf swung back his sword.

The lances used by Polish hussars had a distinctive design. They were partially hollow, being made of two pieces of fir glued together. That made them quite light, despite their great length—not more than seven pounds—and easy to handle in battle.

It also made them brittle, of course. Gustav Adolf's sword broke the lance in half.

But Polish hussars expected that their lances would splinter. The weapons had round wooden hand-guards and the Swedish king's stroke had severed the lance just above the heavy ball. The hussar shifted his grip in order to turn the lance-butt into an impromptu mace and slammed the ball into the king's head.

Hard. The Pole was as big as Gustav Adolf and possibly even stronger. The Swede's head reeled back from the blow, his helmet coming loose.

Seeing his chance, the hussar swung the lance butt again. The helmet came off altogether. The hammering stroke came a third time, and this blow caught the side of the king's head unprotected.

Gustav Adolf was still in the saddle—barely—but he was now completely senseless. The Pole finally dropped the lance butt and drew his saber to finish him off.

But Anders Jönsson had arrived by then and he had no reservations at all about up-time pistols. Years ago, the Americans had given him one of the most expensive guns in their possession, an HK .40-caliber USP automatic. The king's bodyguard had never spent a waking moment without it since. He'd even had his armor modified so he could wear his shoulder holster into battle.

The hussar caught sight of the peculiar object in Jönsson's hand and might have been distracted for a split second before he raised his saber to defend himself. If there was a delay in his reaction, though, it didn't matter. He would have been killed anyway. Jönsson shot him three times, all of the bullets punching into his chest through the cuirass. Two of them penetrated his heart.

Another hussar was there. Gustav Adolf was reeling but was still in the saddle, his legs gripping the horse from long-ingrained reflex. The first hussar to arrive drove his lance at him, ignoring Jönsson. He knew this target was the key one.

Jönsson saved his king again. He shot the hussar twice—center mass, again—and knocked him from the saddle. Had he not done so, the lance would have pierced the king of Sweden in the center of his torso, rupturing his stomach and severing his abdominal aorta. He would have bled out in less than a minute.

As it was, the lance swung aside at the last moment. It passed through the king's body, but well to the side. The peritoneum was pierced, but no major organs were damaged.

Finally, Gustav Adolf began to fall from the saddle. A third hussar tried to lance him as he fell, but his aim was thrown off by the king's now-rapid slump. He drove his lance butt into the Swede's ribs as he passed, but the blow did little damage beyond bruises.