History was repeating itself; there were moats and nobles in Pennsylvania and vassals in Manhattan and the barbarian hordes were overrunning the land.
aying anything about it.
"There she is," The Barbarian said in a husky growl. Geoffrey peered through the brush at an armored trailer whose flat sides were completely undecorated except for a scarlet bearpaw painted on the door. A lantern gleamed behind the slit windows, and The Barbarian grunted with satisfaction. "She's still in there. Fine. We'll have this done in a couple of seconds."
In spite of the incongruity, Geoffrey asked curiously: "What's a second?"
"A division of time, lad--one sixtieth of a minute."
"Oh. What on Earth would you want to measure that accurately for?"
"For getting women out of trailers in a hurry, lad. Now--let's look for sentries."
* * *
There were two guarding the trailer--men-at-arms from Dugald's holding, Geoffrey noticed--carrying shotguns and lounging in the shadows. One of them had a wineskin--Geoffrey heard the gurgle plainly--and the other was constantly turning away from the trailer to listen to the shrieks and shouting com
A post-atomic war low-tech society story of the east coast of the U.S. Really only an excuse for an adventure story about treachery and testosterone.
Entertaining, though there is nothing in the story to interest a woman.