The Forever Man: Betrayal Page 5

  The humans waited and the time ticked by. Minute sized paving stones of pure tension leading to a world of hurt.

  The Roaches appeared out of the white-out, becoming visible as they were almost already at the wall. There was no volley of spears, no sound of war cries. Nothing to give warning. If it had not been for The Forever Man’s ability to sense them coming, they would have been over the wall before any human could react.

  The archers managed to get off one volley before the ladders were thrown against the wall and the Roaches swarmed up.

  It was the most desperate battle that the Free State had ever faced. As fast as they threw the invaders back, pushing the ladders from the wall, the faster they were replaced. It was obvious that this was an all out push by the Annihilators to coincide with the weather and the lack of air support available to the humans.

  Eventually, through sheer force of numbers, a substantial number of Roach warriors made the top of the wall and formed a fighting wedge, driving the human defenders before them as they pushed forward.

  Nathaniel pointed at the Roach wedge with his axe and strode forward, Tad on his right and Kob on his left. The human warriors stood back allowing their king to pass and then falling in behind him as he did so.

  Nathaniel and his two friends hit the Roach fighting wedge like a wrecking ball. Within minutes they had cleared the walls and Nathaniel commanded the other defenders to redouble their efforts to push the ladders away.

  Unlike the usual Roach way of attacking, they did not withdraw to regroup after the initial wave had been defeated, they simply kept pushing.

  Wave after wave threw themselves at the wall. Hundreds of ladders at a time. Thousands of warriors.

  After a couple of hours the battlements were awash with blood, slippery and treacherous underfoot. Both men and aliens hacked and cut at each other in a frenzy of violence.

  Nathaniel conjured up the odd fireball to help clear the walls, striking down Roaches with burning balls of plasma. But he had to be careful. Such conjuring used up an absurd amount of energy and, if he overused the magiks, he ran the risk of draining himself and succumbing to exhaustion.

  ‘Problem,’ shouted Tad and he pointed.

  Nathaniel glanced in the direction that The Little Big Man was indicating and saw a Roach warrior that had made the top of the wall. He was different to the other Roaches around him. His armored carapace was predominantly red and he stood at least a foot taller. His bladed appendages were longer than the usual Roach and he appeared to be heavier built.

  Two human defenders ran at the new Roach, swinging their broadswords as they did. The alien warrior dispatched them both with a casual backhand of his bladed appendages. Then he scanned the walls, his head swiveling slowly from left to right. He stopped when his eyes landed on Nathaniel.

  ‘Forever Man,’ he bellowed. ‘I am Ikara, Busho high warrior, second only to Supreme Warrior Akimiri Hijiti and I have come for you.’

  Nathaniel smiled but his green eyes glittered with hate. ‘And you have found me, high warrior,’ he answered as he strode forward, his double bladed axe held at the ready.

  Humans and Roaches alike scattered out of the path of the two Alpha beings as they approached each other, bent on battle.

  The Roach moved first, his blades swinging so fast as to defy human perception. But not superhuman perception.

  Nathaniel watched the blades coming and leant back, allowing them to streak past his face. Then he ducked underneath and swung his axe at the Roache’s legs. The Busho jumped backwards and struck again.

  Nathaniel was impressed. The alien was moving fast. Faster than anyone or anything that The Forever Man had ever come across before. He blocked the cut with his axe blade and kicked out, hitting the Busho on his knee. The Roach staggered back but recovered quickly and slashed out again, nicking Nathaniel on the neck.

  The marine took a step back and regarded the Roach with newfound respect as he felt the hot, sticky redness flow down his neck into his armor. Again and again the two warriors attacked each other and after six or seven clashes it started to become obvious that the Annihilator Busho was hopelessly outclassed.

  When Nathaniel pulled back from one clash he glanced quickly around him to see that the battle had stopped. The Annihilators stood still, their bladed appendages by their sides as they watched one of their supreme warriors take on the human king. The humans likewise simply stood and watched their leader as he battled the Busho, engrossed by the savage intensity.

  Nathaniel waited for the Busho to attack again and then he stepped to one side and launched a lightning series of blows with his axe, striking alternately low and high, over and over again, raining them down at a rate of over four a second.

  The Busho went down under the welter of strikes. Blood sprayed high as parts of his carapace shattered under the impact of the winged steel blades.

  Finally Nathaniel kicked the Busho in the chest and knocked him to the floor. Then he stepped over him, raised his axe and severed his head from his body.

  A collective groan erupted from the Annihilators and many of them fell to their knees.

  One approached Nathaniel, his head down and his demeanor one of respect.

  ‘Great warrior,’ he greeted The Forever Man. ‘You have defeated one of the paramount warriors of our kind. As befits the occasion we ask that the battle be forestalled for a short moment whilst we remove his body from the field and perform the appropriate funeral rites.’

  Nathaniel agreed straight away, happy with the opportunity to consolidate his troops. Augmenting his voice once again he instructed all humans to stand down and let the Annihilators remove their fallen Busho.

  Six of the Roaches lifted Ikara onto their shoulders and carried him back, lowering the body down the ladder first. The solemnity of the occasion marred somewhat by the fact that one of the Roaches had to carry the Busho’s severed head in a bag. As they walked through the massed ranks of Annihilators the warriors dropped to one knee and saluted, one appendage against their chest.

  Then they all formed up and withdrew, fading into the snow storm.

  ‘Quickly,’ said Nathaniel to Tad. ‘See to the men. Get someone to wash the blood from the walkways, feed and water everyone. Ready the archers.’

  Tad grabbed the marine by the arm. ‘Nathaniel,’ he said. ‘We should attack now. While they’re doing whatever the hell it is that they’re doing. We could take them by surprise.’

  Nathaniel shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’ Insisted Tad.

  ‘Why?’ Asked the marine. ‘Because that’s not what we do. We said that we would stand down while they bury their Busho dude and that is what we will do.’

  Tad looked angry. ‘It’s not a time to stand on honor,’ he insisted. ‘We have the human race to think about. Screw honor.’

  Nathaniel grinned and then laughed, catching Tad by surprise.

  ‘What?’ Enquired The Little Big Man. ‘Why you smiling like a Cheshire cat and what’s so funny?’

  Nathaniel pointed at the sky.

  Tad looked up and shrugged. ‘What? There’s nothing up there. Snow, clouds, the sun.’

  Nathaniel grinned again and Tad started to chuckle. ‘The snow is clearing,’ said The Little Big Man.

  The marine nodded. ‘And I have already pulsed our contact in the Vandal camp. I’ve scrambled all of them and told them to pack heavy, bombs only. I’m gambling that the Roaches won’t get any Yari in the air in time so we won’t need fighter protection.’

  Tad punched the air. ‘Yes. Will they get here in time?’

  ‘They had better,’ said Nathaniel. ‘Because we’re in big trouble if they don’t.’

  The defenders waited on the wall, nerves strung tight as garroting wire. And above them, over the next three hours, the sky started to clear. Some men simply stood alone, some chatted in groups, others played cards. But they all kept glancing outwards, scanning for the next attack.

  Then, as patches of blue bec
ame visible and no more snow fell, there was a shout from the watchmen on the wall.

  The Annihilators were coming.

  The ground trembled in time with the running footsteps of almost fifteen thousand alien feet as they charged towards the wall, hundreds of scaling ladders at the ready.

  And then the light faded as if a massive cloud had passed before the sun.

  Tad looked up, thinking that the sky was clouding over again. Instead he saw, in V-shaped flights of one hundred, a massed formation of over five thousand Vandals. Every able bodied flyer had taken to the air.

  The humans cheered as the first wave of five hundred ground support Vandals dove towards the Roaches, pulling up some fifty feet above their heads and releasing their naphtha bombs. Each dropping, one, two, three, four. A carpet of fire leapt up amongst the charging Annihilators forcing them to stagger to a halt.

  And then the next wave of Vandals struck, and the next and the next. By the time that the first three thousand Vandals had delivered their payloads the rest were forced to drop their loads from much higher up, such was the fierceness of the conflagration.

  The humans merely stood and watched the firestorm. There was nothing else that they could do. Eventually they had to either duck behind the battlements or raise their shields up to protect themselves from the intense waves of heat emanating from the battlefield.

  The massive field of fire grew so hot that it started to suck in air from the surrounding atmosphere, creating its own mini-weather system. Small flaming tornados started up, twirling away from the field and igniting the surrounding trees. Flames shot hundreds of feet into the air, eventually stopping in a huge mushroom shaped cloud that was torn apart by the stratospheric jet winds.

  The armada of Vandals regrouped and flew back to base, heading north.

  Behind them not one Annihilator was left alive.

  On the wall no one spoke for a while. The level of destruction was simply too much to take in straight away.

  Eventually Tad spoke. ‘God,’ he said in a shaky voice. ‘That was truly terrible.’

  ‘It had to be done,’ said Nathaniel.

  ‘I know,’ admitted Tad. ‘But still. My God.’

  ‘War is cruelty,’ said The Forever Man. ‘And there is no use trying to change that. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over.’

  ‘That is true,’ affirmed Kob. ‘Not only that, we must accept that this time we were lucky. If the weather had not broken I doubt that we would have been able to hold them back. There are simply too many of them. Even this,’ he gestured with his arm. ‘Even this is not such a huge loss to them. I would guess that they still have over fifty thousand warriors left. Maybe even more. To be honest, I do not see how we can keep winning.’

  The Forever Man patted the Orc on the shoulder and smiled. ‘Have faith, my friend,’ he said. ‘It’s not over until the fat lady sings.’

  The three of them stood in silence for a few minutes as they watched the flames slowly die down.

  Finally, Kob spoke again. ‘I do not know this fat lady,’ he said as he turned to leave the wall. ‘But I will try to have faith.’

  Chapter 13

  Milly picked another peeled grape from the bowl and looked out over the frozen river. A fire blazed in the hearth yet she still wore her mink stole. She simply loved the softness of the fur.

  A young girl was on her hands and knees scrubbing the stone floor and another stood at the door, simply waiting for instructions.

  The table in the center was laid with a selection of candied fruits, peeled grapes and fruit sherbets. These were commander Ammon’s favorite foods and she had ensured that there were sufficient quantities available, even though it was getting harder and harder to obtain such delicacies in a land that was almost constantly shrouded in snow.

  But, as the paramount human in the land of the Fair-Folk, doors were opened to her that would not be opened even to some of the actual Fair-Folk.

  She thought about Nathaniel. How he could have had all of this. She had offered it to him on a plate but he had refused her. And moreover, he had utterly rejected her, casting aspersions on her ambitions and then leaving her again. But the worst thing had been the look of disappointment and pity on his face when he had left. She would far have preferred hatred.

  Because, God how she hated him. He was responsible for all of the wrongs that were facing both humanity and the Fair-Folk. His massive arrogance prevented him from bowing down before the Fair-Folk. A race who only wanted to do their best for the humans. A race that ruled with a hand that was strict but fair.

  And if Nathaniel had not made such enemies of them, then the whole of humanity and the Fair-Folk would be properly arrayed against the Annihilator invaders. Instead their forces were split. This resulted in a division of power and an inability to strike a powerful blow.

  Nathaniel talked about freedom. Humanity had to be free. But she had experienced freedom before and she knew exactly what it brought. Freedom to rape. Freedom to kill the innocent. Freedom to pillage and destroy. None of that happened under the Fair-Folk. And Nathaniel was too steeped in the ways of war to ever bend a leg to those who should be his true masters and the rulers of the human lands.

  The door opened and the commander walked in. He was still presenting himself to Milly as a six foot, blond, blue eyed male of indeterminate pre-middle age. As opposed to allowing her to see his four foot, grey skinned, domed head appearance. The attractive appearance helped the Fair-Folk to control the humans although, of late, Ammon was coming to the conclusion that it was no longer really needed. Those who knew the true appearance of the Fair-Folk all currently lived in the Free State and those who didn’t know were either totally subjugated by the Fair-Folk, or so indebted to them as it would make no difference how they looked.

  Milly curtsied deeply and he bowed in return. ‘My lady,’ he greeted her. ‘I have come for some input regarding a plan that Seth and I have formulated.’

  ‘I am honored, commander,’ replied Milly as she showed him to a seat at the table of treats and sweetmeats.

  Ammon sat down and helped himself to a piece of honeyed apricot.

  At first he had started coming to visit Milly to ask her input merely because he felt it prudent to allow her the feeling that she was involved in some decisions, bearing in mind that she was the preeminent human in the Fair-Folk realm. But, as time went on, he soon discovered that the human female was a canny thinker and at least as ruthless as he was. She would always manage to parcel her decisions up in a wrapping of concern; a veneer of care for her people, but when push came to shove it was obvious that Milly put Milly first and foremost.

  The commander accepted a cup of fruit sherbet, sipped and then spoke.

  ‘Seth and I are thinking about sending an emissary to the Annihilators to sue for peace. What do you think?’

  Milly thought for a short while before she spoke. ‘What incentive have they got? I mean, on the surface I think that it’s a good idea but why would they do it? From what I hear they aren’t exactly doing that badly as far as the war goes. What do we have to offer them, they seem to live only for war and conquest?’

  Ammon nodded. ‘True, although they have just taken a serious beating at the wall. The human king created a firestorm using his Vandals and wiped out over fifteen thousand Annihilators.’

  Milly paused as she took the figures in. Fifteen thousand dead. Nathaniel truly was one of the dogs of war. Anyone capable of wreaking such destruction must surely be rooted in evil. ‘How many does that leave?’ She asked.

  ‘Our scouts reckon that there are still anything from another fifty to a hundred thousand of them. We aren’t sure. But, if I am being honest, their warriors are far superior to ours. Our Orcs have proved to be too slow and stolid to fight successfully against them. To ensure a win we would need to outnumber them at least ten to one. I am not being defeatist, merely candid regarding our chances.’

  ‘The humans seem to be faring quite well against them,
’ commented Milly.

  Ammon nodded. ‘They haven’t done badly, but they have been lucky. I don’t think that the full might of the Annihilators has been thrown against them. You see, they still have to leave a substantial number of troops facing our lines in case we attack in strength.’

  Milly smiled. She could see where the discussion was heading. ‘So,’ she said. ‘You do have something to offer them. You can offer them the Free State.’

  Ammon was impressed, as usual, at the human girl’s sharp mind. ‘Yes,’ he affirmed. ‘If we guaranteed peace, then the Annihilators could concentrate their forces entirely on the humans and would, no doubt, destroy them completely. We would offer them the country from London north and we would control the rest. It is more than sufficient for our needs.’

  ‘No more war,’ added Milly. ‘We could run the land without interference from Nathaniel and his armies. Humanity would finally be at peace.’

  ‘A true and everlasting peace,’ agreed Ammon.

  ‘I think that you should do it,’ urged Milly. ‘Moreover, I think that you should send a human emissary. That would show the Annihilators that we truly are a multicultural society, Fair-Folk and humans living together. Benevolent overlords ensuring that the humans live in harmony.’

  ‘I agree,’ affirmed commander Ammon and he toasted Milly with his cup.

  Then he stood up. ‘Milly,’ he said. ‘There is something else that I have to tell you. Well, perhaps, show you, is more appropriate. You know that we do not allow any mirrors in the Tower of London?’

  ‘Yes,’ answered Milly. ‘When I last asked you for one you said that I had no need to see my beauty reflected. That was very gallant of you.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Ammon. ‘And that was true. However, it is not the real reason for the no mirror rule. I would like you to take a look at this.’

  From his robe Ammon drew a small round mirror. Like a lady’s compact mirror. He gave it to Milly who held it up and looked into it.