The gate opened as the defenders rode in and were shut swiftly after that. A Gatling gun had been mounted at the front gate. They had taken a lifetime to get it working, but when it did kick in, it had the desired effect, cutting down the oncoming forces with ease. Their tightly compacted formation was their downfall. The priests amongst them ordered the retreat as the water started to swell around their horses’ hooves. Those that were left behind soon got into difficulty and were swept away by the incoming tide.
The captain gave the boy to a group of women who had rushed out to greet them. They had all been wounded during the battle. The lad had been struck on the arm and leg with a spear and was losing a lot of blood. The women took him away to seek medical advice. This is when the captain fell to his knees. He brought his arm behind his back and touched the site of the pain. When he brought it back, his hand was soaked with blood. The pain was agonising and caused him to go slightly giddy before falling forward a little and then collapsing onto the ground. There was a retired British doctor in the abbey helping with the sick and wounded. Captain Hayward was brought to him and he began working on the wound. For now the abbey was safe.
Captain Hayward opened his eyes briefly. The pain was excruciating.
“I must get to the coast. My wife and children are coming from Paris...I must find them.”
He was delirious from the pain and soon blacked out. When he came around, he saw a man with a grey beard looking at him.
“Don’t fret, I’m a doctor. Well, I use to be.”
The captain asked about the boy and was told he was doing fine.
“Doctor, I must get back to the coastal ports, my family. They were coming through the catacombs in Paris—”
He was interrupted before he could finish his sentence.
“I’m dreadfully sorry to hear about your family, Captain, but I’m afraid we’re at sea, returning to Great Britain.”
With that he pulled back the curtains to the side of the room to reveal open water and waves breaking against each other. The captain began to cry. It hurt his back to do so. He then tried to raise himself up, but could barely move.
“How long have I been out?”
The doctor came to his side.
“You were in and out of consciousness for a week. We had to leave to Jersey and now we’re on our way back to Britain.”
The captain wiped his face.
“Where’s my uniform?”
The doctor looked concerned. He paused to think about what the Captain was after.
“I’ve taken the bullets out of your revolver for now. Please don’t do anything stupid. Your family could be in Britain already, or making their way home.”
The captain sighed. The doctor could be right. Maybe they had made it to a coastal port and found a ship back home. He thought about how he could have done things differently, he also thought about all the other families now suffering the same worries as him.
“My men were in Cherbourg. Have you any news of that port?”
“I’m afraid I know very little. We were cut off in the end.”
The doctor told him he would let him rest before visiting him later.
Chapter 31
Nazar watched over Calais as his forces raided the city. Ships and boats were leaving all together. It was the same story across the whole of the French coastline.
A drone general came forward.
“Your Highness, what shall we do with all the prisoners?”
Nazar looked as his wife riding towards them and then turned to look at his drone general.
“Kill some and feed them to the flesh-eaters and long-limbs. We will need some as slaves for our new order. Cities have to be built and so do temples.”
He then let out a raucous laugh, followed by a question. “Did we get Benedict?”
The general lowered his head.
“We do not really know, sire.”
Nazar looked displeased but the arrival of his queen calmed him.
She came over to him dragging a bag accompanied by a large wolf at her side. She then showed the contents of the bag to her husband. Inside was a collection of heads. She proclaimed them to belong to the great generals of Europe. They both laughed and embraced each other and then gazed out at the smoke rising over Calais.
The queen swept back her long black hair. Her beauty was captivating.
“What about all the people that have escaped to Britain?”
Nazar crumpled up his face.
“The Empire will fall.”
Europe Has Fallen Page 33