Three Kings

by George R. R. Martin

  Those still with guns opened fire but the bullets did nothing to slow her, their power reduced to little more than gnat bites by Jiniri’s wild card.

  The Fists scattered, but Jiniri didn’t care. The giant wasn’t going for all of them. She was going for him. He raised his hands just as her foot connected with his chest, firing him backwards into the wall of the castle.

  Both the impact of her kick and the hard crunch of stone on his back were muted. Green Man rarely felt pain these days. Even so, it took him a few moments to get up again, and in that time, everything had changed.

  Several of the outside lights had exploded as Maven shot them out one by one. Without the lights, their night goggles would give them an edge, and it would be easier to escape.

  Jiniri tried to land a punch on Peggy, who kept dodging, swearing, and rapping the giant’s knuckles with her cricket bat.

  Meanwhile, Redcoat and Blue Jeans had begun trading blows.

  Archimedes stepped forward and held out his hands. Green Man’s heart sank but he wasn’t sure what the ace was doing.

  Suddenly, the green-black world of his vision went white, and he felt heat on his face, painful and sharp, and he heard the others crying out in alarm.

  My goggles are on fire! My face! No!

  He tore them from his head and hurled them aside. The other Fists had done the same, but the distraction had been costly. Peggy now dangled from Jiniri’s grasp. Blue Jeans was doubled over and staggering, with Redcoat lining up for a finishing shot. And Stonemaiden had started sprinting towards Jamila.

  The terrified joker realized late, and by the time she was bringing her gun to bear, Stonemaiden was on her. The ace didn’t slow down, just tapped the girl on the shoulder as she went by. Like children playing tag, he thought.

  As Jamila recoiled, trying to twist away, she began to judder, the colour leaching from her face, from her clothes, from her eyes, as they all faded to grey. Then, she stopped moving altogether, the hands that served as ears going rigid, freezing in place. Dead, like the rest of her.

  To his horror, he realized that he’d stopped reacting to the fight and started to simply watch it. He lumbered towards Redcoat, aware that Stonemaiden was heading their way as well, her eyes intent on Blue Jeans.

  Maven set off a smoke grenade between her and Jiniri but it only came up to the giant’s shins. A few more bullets bounced harmlessly off her arm, but she didn’t drop Peggy. We’re going to lose, thought Green Man, as Redcoat sent Blue Jeans reeling backwards with another punch.

  Despite the noise and confusion, Redcoat heard him coming, and turned to face him, craning his neck to meet Green Man’s gaze. ‘This is more like it,’ he said, and came in fast.

  Green Man felt the punch. Just. It was a good punch. Superhumanly strong. Compared to Jiniri, however, it was nothing. Redcoat followed up with three more, all just as good, then tried to sweep his legs. It was a good sweep. A normal person would be on the floor.

  Green Man grabbed Redcoat’s arm and ripped it out of its shoulder joint.

  As Redcoat screamed he lifted him overhead and turned towards Stonemaiden, who was frighteningly close now. It was possible that his wooden skin was immune to her touch but he didn’t want to risk it.

  Stonemaiden was running full tilt at them, and so, when he threw Redcoat at her, there was little she could do. There was a satisfying thump as the two went down in a heap. He doubted either of them would stay there, but it would buy him a little time.

  The smoke was clearing now, and it didn’t take long for Jiniri to find where Maven was hiding. ‘Last chance to give up,’ she boomed, waving Peggy at her. ‘Or I’m going to club you to bits with your friend here.’

  Maven just fired at Jiniri, not because it would hurt, but because Seizer had also been hiding in the smoke, and now he was in position to strike. His hand slashed across the back of her ankle and she screamed, dropping Peggy as she fell to one knee. Whatever powers Jiniri possessed, they did nothing to protect her against Seizer’s wild card.

  He slashed again, and blood ran freely down the back of Jiniri’s leg, causing her to groan and swipe backwards. With a flip, Peggy was back on her feet, cricket bat in both hands. She hopped up onto Jiniri’s knee and swung hard at her face. There was a crack as the bat snapped in two, and then Jiniri was toppling.

  Green Man was trying to decide what to do next but there was so much happening all at once, he was struggling to process it all.

  Seizer was moving in to finish Jiniri off.

  Blue Jeans was going after Payback.

  Stonemaiden dragged herself out from under Redcoat and faced off against Seizer.

  A red light from Maven’s sniper rifle appeared on Stonemaiden’s forehead—

  Then it flickered and went out.

  A second later, Maven swore and threw her smoking rifle on the floor.

  Archimedes. Again.

  Green Man decided it was time to deal with him next and set off.

  To his right Seizer was shouting, ‘Are you sure you want to try your power against mine, Stonemaiden? My hands are deadly too.’ And he waved them in what was presumably meant to be a threatening manner.

  ‘I’d love to, my ’andsome,’ replied Stonemaiden without pause, taking a step forward, then twisting suddenly, lashing out.

  The feint was clever, because it not only fooled Seizer, whose bravado vanished as he tried frantically to get away, but it also fooled Peggy, who was Stonemaiden’s real target.

  The knave recovered quickly, and she turned with the blow, so that the strike was reduced to a graze. It was nothing really, a slight brush of skin on skin. Peggy thrust the broken bat handle towards Stonemaiden’s face, but halfway through the action, her arms locked up.

  ‘You bi—’ began Peggy, but the sentence was never finished as the air in her body wasn’t strong enough to move vocal cords made of stone.

  Stonemaiden turned her attention back to Seizer.

  Seizer turned away to Maven. ‘Help your father!’

  Without comment, Maven pulled out a pistol and fired two rounds into Stonemaiden’s stomach. Stonemaiden went down, but if the lack of blood was anything to go by, not for good.

  Green Man was nearly at Archimedes now. He could hear Blue Jeans crying out rhythmically as he rolled around on the floor. Payback was doing something to him, but Green Man didn’t have time to worry about what. The soldiers that had been holding back were starting to close in. Hundreds of lights bobbed on the end of rifles as they jogged closer. But he didn’t have time for that either.

  Galloping ahead of them on a horse made of stone was King Charles II. The living statue had a smug gleam in its eye. If it wasn’t bearing down on him, he’d have to admit that it looked magnificent picked out by all of the spotlights against the grandeur of Windsor Castle. Pygmalion!

  There was no way he’d be able to find the puppetmaster behind all the soldiers. Gritting his teeth, he continued after Archimedes who, realizing the danger, turned and tried to run away. Luckily for Green Man, his quarry wasn’t young any more.

  His larger right hand closed around Archimedes’ throat, as he leaned down to whisper in his ear. ‘Use your power now or you’re dead.’

  ‘On what?’ he gasped, his Scots accent unmistakable.

  ‘Everything.’

  Green Man squeezed lightly for emphasis, and Archimedes nodded.

  One moment, they were surrounded by lights. The ones in the grounds, the ones in windows, the hundreds of smaller ones strapped to weapons or helmets. The next, all was black. All around him, the night air was full of gasps of surprise and fizzing and breaking glass. The sudden removal of the light had made them all equally blind.

  But Green Man had known it was coming, and was already on the move. He cast Archimedes aside and ran. Soft bodies cracked against his and were brushed aside. He kept running. He hit something harder, dented it, was turned by it. He kept running. Sometimes a branch dragged across his chest. Sometimes he tripped, but he kep
t running.

  He wasn’t the quickest wild card out there, but his legs were long and did not tire. Seconds passed, then minutes.

  They’d be on to him soon, he was sure of it. Or would they?

  There would be no working communications at the castle now. No working vehicles. No lights. Perhaps he had a chance.

  Then he heard the sound of a helicopter. Soft at first, then louder, then horribly loud, directly overhead.

  His heart fell as a white beam appeared to his left, then swung over, picking him out. He squinted against the brightness, and glanced around for a fencepost, or loose object he could use as a projectile.

  Something was dropping towards him.

  He was going too fast to avoid it, but managed to get his arms up in time as it smacked against his shoulder.

  It was a ladder.

  And now he looked, the helicopter wasn’t military. Fairly sure whatever was up there was better than staying where he was, he skidded to a stop, grabbed it, and started to climb.

  As he did so, the helicopter rose higher into the sky, leaving the castle quickly behind.

  When he reached the top Wayfarer was waiting to help him inside.

  He blinked at her a few times, unable to think of anything to say.

  After she’d pulled the ladder back in and shut the door, she looked at him. ‘I had a look at your escape plan. It was terrible, so I decided to prepare one of my own.’

  He blinked again: no words came out.

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re welcome.’

  Badb realized she had fallen asleep again. Unconscious, rather. She was stuck to her own blood on the floor and for the first time in her life, no amount of determination could substitute for the strength needed to get her up.

  Fascinating.

  Fractured bones had never stopped her before. She had once lost an eye without breaking concentration. She’d kept her mouth shut when an armoured car drove over her feet, although, that time, she had been forced out of her body and into that of a crow. Pain and weakness were no impediments to one whose every thought was divine.

  She needed to regenerate. Her younger self was prone to emotions more powerful and foolish than those of mere mortals, but it was either that or risk the breakout of peace.

  And so tonight, she would accompany the Fists to Windsor and when Pygmalion and the others sprang their ambush, the goddess would drink in the death of the heroic young Jamila. Yes, that would be most satisfactory.

  She listened to the quiet. Perhaps, as these groups sometimes did, the Fists were each sitting by themselves, contemplating their own mortality. It was dark in the hideout too. Very dark. Almost as if night had already fallen. As if her blackout had been severe enough to miss an entire day …

  No. Impossible.

  She threw her consciousness to the nearest crow. The sun had long since set. Street lights shone everywhere. To the east, sirens and burning buildings. She flitted from bird to bird, shaking them from their slumber; sending them flying from the eaves of houses, the tops of trees; from warm factory roofs and empty centres of worship. Her mind crossed hundreds of streets in mere minutes, but even so, by the time she caught sight of Windsor, all that was left of the raid was the massive figure of the Green Man clinging to a rope ladder that dangled from a helicopter.

  Too late.

  She had mere days left to shatter this city for good or the land here would go unfed. Time to move her plans forward.

  But who would wield the blade for her?

  And then, a quick flick revealed a familiar figure trying to sneak away from the site of the raid. Seizer. Too many soldiers were rushing in now from all directions. He’d never make it. Not without the aid of a goddess.

  Thursday

  March 12th

  GREEN MAN SAT ON the decaying office chair, head in his hands. He and the remaining London Fists were hiding out in an abandoned set of flats scheduled to be demolished.

  Just like us. I wonder which will be destroyed first?

  It had all gone so terribly, terribly wrong. After the botched attack on Henry at Windsor Castle the Twisted Fists had gone to ground, aware that the Silver Helix would be hunting for them, no doubt backed by the Army. Of course, the authorities wouldn’t know which jokers were members and which were innocent. Many of them wouldn’t care either. Constance had been right: by attacking Windsor, he’d given his enemies all the evidence they needed to bury him.

  The door to his room was somewhat lacking in integrity, and he could see Wayfarer on the other side of it as she made a game attempt to find something solid enough to knock on.

  ‘Come in,’ he said, fixing his mask into place.

  She did so, and placed a chipped glass of water next to him. She waited as he sipped, the familiarity of their ritual comforting despite the squalor. ‘Report,’ he said, not without a trace of reluctance. ‘How bad is it? Did any of the others get out or was it just me?’

  ‘Blue Jeans is in custody. We don’t know where they’ve taken him. Jamila and Peggy are—’

  ‘I saw.’ Both had died at the hand of Stonemaiden.

  Wayfarer nodded sadly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘And Seizer? Maven?’

  Much as he despised Seizer, they needed him. The old knave was their king. He tried to convince himself that a tarnished symbol for their people was better than no symbol at all. It was hard to swallow though.

  ‘They made it out and are on their way,’ replied Wayfarer. ‘Do you want to leave before they get here?’

  He looked up at her. ‘You think they’ll be followed?’

  ‘No. I think they might have made a deal with the Helix and sold us out for a reduced sentence.’

  It made sense but he couldn’t bring himself to move. ‘If you’re right, I’ll be their target. I’ll be sure to make plenty of noise so that you can get away. If something happens to me, Wayfarer, it will be up to you to make sure the Twisted Fists continue.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Is there anyone else you’d trust to keep everyone in line?’

  She smirked at that. ‘No, but I’m happy where I am. I’ve no wish to paint a target on my head, especially not when the country seems to be falling apart. Which is why it isn’t going to be relevant. I’m going to make sure nothing happens to you.’

  He sipped the water again. ‘If it does, though, you’ll need a mask. And a strategy. I thought I’d brought the Fists into the modern age. Perhaps I had for a while, but things are pulling too far away for me to keep up. I’m tired, Wayfarer. I’m getting too old for this. It’s time for some new blood.’

  Wayfarer shook her head, ignoring her phone which had started to ring. ‘If you give up now, what they’ll get is Seizer on the throne and Seizer in control of the Fists.’

  He shuddered and stood up. ‘Heaven forbid!’

  She gave a lopsided grin, ‘That’s the spirit,’ and stepped out to handle the incoming call.

  ‘We need a plan,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Some way to salvage this …’

  He began to pace, his footfalls thudding heavily on the cracked floor. He was still pacing later, when Wayfarer returned.

  ‘One of our people just picked up Miss Russell and Bobbin near the old hideaway.’

  ‘Constance? Is she all right? I thought she’d be well clear of London by now.’

  ‘Apparently not. She wants to speak to you.’

  Even in these circumstances it would not do for the Green Man to turn away a friend of his people. He returned to his chair, sinking heavily into it with a sigh. ‘Send her up.’

  Green Man looked exhausted. There was a pall over his hideaway. And no wonder. The news had been filled with stories of the fight between the Fists and the Silver Helix in the grounds of Windsor Castle.

  ‘I appreciate you seeing me,’ Constance began. Convincing Green Man to see Turing after the events of the night before was going to be tricky.

  Green Man nodded slowly. ‘I can’t believe what a massacre it was.�
�� He sounded bewildered.

  ‘You shouldn’t have tried to take on the Silver Helix,’ she said. ‘It was always going to be an unfair fight.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m not certain how I could have led my people to such a disaster. But I had to take a stand.’

  Constance steeled herself, then said, ‘I need you to talk to someone. And you’re not going to like it.’ She hoped this wasn’t a fool’s errand. But what was happening was bigger than either of them. She hoped he would see it the same way.

  ‘I’m in contact with Turing,’ she said. There was a thunderous clap as Green Man’s hands slammed down on his desk.

  ‘Why? Why would you have anything to do with that evil bastard?’

  ‘Because he might be able to prove Seizer’s claim to the throne,’ she said more calmly than she felt. There was enough Sturm und Drang to go around, she didn’t need to be fanning it. ‘Henry can’t be allowed to continue – isn’t that your position? Isn’t that what last night was all about? Henry’s son is dead. Gloriana has given up her claim. And Richard …’ Her voice trailed away then she rallied. ‘But if Seizer is the true heir, Henry can be replaced and we can right a terrible wrong.’

  Green Man shook his head. ‘How could I possibly trust Turing?’

  ‘Don’t trust him,’ Constance replied, reaching out and taking his hands in hers. ‘Trust me. I’ve worked with him for decades – I don’t have time to explain the details but believe me, he wants to make things right. This is how he can.’

  Green Man slid his hands away from Constance’s. She hoped she’d done enough. He stared down at his desk, shaking his head silently. At last, he looked up at her and said softly, ‘Bring him in.’

  The morning papers had made it clear why Ranjit hadn’t responded to any of Noel’s requests for a meeting. Finally Noel had taken matters into his own hands. Assuming his male avatar, he had teleported directly into the director’s office.

  The look bestowed upon him had been both weary and aggravated. ‘What now, Noel?’