The Humanarium 3

by C. W Tickner

  ‘So you went behind Troy and traded the reactor plans on the chance Grakka could heal him?’

  Tears streaked her face. ‘He knew from the start, Harl. Tess told him he was dying. Only Grakka can save him.’

  Damen had shifted closer as if expecting bloodshed between them.

  Harl felt an irresistible urge to call her a liar but he knew it must be true. ‘What if he’s killed Troy and taken us anyway. He has the plans now and we’ll be dead soon enough and for what? Because you were too stubborn to ask for help?’

  She shook her head, disrupting the cascade of tears and opened her mouth to reply.

  A high pitched horn shrilled across the horde and the men around them fell silent. The silver general rode up the line calling out to them.

  ‘We may have lost last time,’ he said, his powerful voice booming over the sea of helmets and spear tips. He pointed a huge silver hilted sword up at the six Aylen heads peering down over the landscape. ‘The watchers have told me that if we win then they’ll gift us powerful weapons to forever destroy the golds and win ever more glory. No longer will we be without specials to defend our friends.’ The crowd cheered. ‘No more will we lay hungry, waiting for the next battle to be rewarded with just enough food to get by.’ The roar from the host matched the cries from across the muddy field where a man dressed in gold was riding a similar beast along the front of the gold painted soldiers.

  ‘This day we destroy the golds,’ the silver general yelled. ‘This day we make the watchers proud of our achievements.’

  He put a silver horn to his lips, ready to blow when one of the Aylen above them made a deep noise and put a hand down as if to order them to not move.

  ‘He said to wait,’ Kane said.

  ‘If we make it through this,’ Harl said, gazing across at the lines of ferocious faces, ‘then we’ll be lucky.’

  ‘No scum sucking Aylen tells me what to do,’ Damen growled. He spun to face the battlefield and bolted downhill, the only one running down among the thousands on the hill, oblivious to the stares and gasps of all the men watching. The Aylen above didn’t seem to notice and was looking around above the table as if keeping an eye out for more onlookers to arrive.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Dana said and she shoved past one of the plate-armoured men as he tried to stop her and sprinted downhill behind Damen.

  Harl exchanged a glance with Kane, both seeing the madness in what they were doing but if this was the end, then they’d give it their best. Together they cried out and turned to sprint down the hillside.

  The slope was treacherous beneath him as he shouted incoherent syllables. He was sure Kane was more sliding than running, the weight of the armour puling the scientist down to an empty field under the gaze of the Aylen. It was madness.

  The Aylen hand was lifted and the horn was finally blown, casting a deep boom that echoed off the high walls that encircled the battlefield and the opposite army came flooding down towards them. It was like two buckets of water being poured from either end into the same hole, one silver and the other gold, surging down to break like waves against each other. Unfortunately Harl, Damen, Dana and Kane were right in its path.

  Chapter 31

  The first chicks have hatched and I will have to let them roam in the core room unless I build a hutch to contain them. I will bring up cryo frozen wood from storage and begin construction immediately.

  The desert crawlers swept down from the hill as arrows arced like swarms of lines high over the battlefield.

  An Aylen leant back to avoid the projectiles as they rose and its fellows seemed to be laughing at it.

  All of the bright green crawlers except one were heading for Damen and Dana. At the same time, a regiment of the muscular cattle formed a triangle and their silver painted riders stampeded down the slope to break the crawler’s charge before they could reach Dana and Damen.

  The clash was titanic.

  The first crawler ploughed into the mass of cattle, its rider stabbed out with his long spear, puncturing right through armour as the rest of the desert crawlers crashed into the formation. The cattle riders used long curved swords to slice the crawlers as they crashed down the flank of the triangle. Some were trampled or flung aside by the force but each cattle rider along the line scored a hit until the crawlers refused the reigns and broke away from the regiment while their riders roared in protest.

  The crawler that hadn’t joined the charge had climbed up the side of the battlefield wall and was darting along the vertical slope towards them.

  A battlecry rose in front of Harl and he had no more time to look at anything other than the screaming man in front. The man lacked armour but his two handed axe was held high ready to strike down. They met as the armies clashed. The soldiers around them filed into each other like interlocked fingers as they found their marks, coloured in silver or gold warpaint.

  The axe man in front slowed and Harl side-stepped, raising his sword as the axe came down. He stepped closer and the axeman tried to stop his own blow, seeing Harl’s blade beneath his wrists. He was too slow. The wrists met the blade and the man cut off his own hands.

  Harl didn’t have time to stop. Another man shoulder barged him backwards and he slipped, feeling the mud underfoot thump into his back as he fell. The man jabbed a spear down and Harl battered the tip aside with his sword. Again the spear stabbed down as the mud bogged him down and slowed his reactions. When he thought the tip would bury itself in his chest the man poised above gave a choking sound and slumped over with one of Dana’s knives wedged in his back. She put an arm out and Harl clasped it, feeling the strength in her grip as she hauled him to his feet.

  He tried to thank her but his throat was parched. She said nothing but turned as the desert wall-crawler leapt down into a press of armoured plated knights that they had been standing with on the hill.

  The crawler swung its tail around, tripping the men and allowing the rider on top to stab down at them before they could shift away. The silver coated general rode in beside a team of mounted knights and began to circle around the beast. It lashed its tail like a whip and the general tumbled from his mount as the bull was flipped by the impact.

  The roar of men grew in Harl’s ears and he glance around to see half a dozen soldiers had used the crawler’s attack to sneak past and launch themselves at the remaining knights. Arrows toppled the knights from their mounts and with heavy armour weighing them down they were too slow to rise before the group was on them.

  Damen had thrust Kane against the wall and stood in front of him, swinging left to right, holding two soldiers at bay who’d tried to kill the weaker looking man. Damen knocked the first back with the pommel of his heavy axe and swung it in a vicious arc, forcing the second to spring away.

  Before Damen could arc back the first had jumped in and sliced his sword across Damen’s arm before stabbing him in the stomach. Before the blow could push through the armour, Kane had jumped forwards and stabbed his own sword into the man’s back.

  Damen didn’t wait for the last man to attack but kicked him square in the chest and battered him to the floor. Like a man in a strong hammer competition, he let the axe head drop straight down.

  With no enemy close Harl turned his attention to the wall crawler. It was using its short legs to run around the silver general, forcing the small group of remaining knight into a back-to-back circle.

  A mass of gold painted men were rushing down the hill. Harl realised they must have been kept in reserve and were now heading straight for the general and his men while the crawler had them pinned. The general kept dodging the long spear strikes from the rider on top but one by one his knights were being skewered until it was just the general left. He was coated in mud and even with all the armour, he didn’t slow. He ducked and weaved, trying to get close with his sword until he caught a glimpse of the reserves rampaging across the battlefield to get to the lone leader. Panic flooded his eyes at the oncoming horde.

  ‘Damen, Dana!’ Harl
cried and the two glanced around as they tackled a trio of leather armoured men who whipped huge maces around their heads. The maces forced the two to duck and back off. Kane lumbered past Harl, slipping around the men to come in from behind. Harl ran forward and darted left, splitting their attention.

  Kane was first to strike, jabbing his blade in a man’s back until it stuck fast and he tumbled backwards trying to pull it free. Harl leapt in as the stabbed man tried to turn on Kane but Harl thrust his sword into him and stepped back, feeling the suck of the blade as he tugged it free. Dana sliced a pair of daggers across the second’s chest and she stood panting as he slumped to the wet ground.

  Damen hacked through the last man as he stared in horror at his dying comrades.

  The rider on the crawler thrust the spear down at the general, puncturing the plate on his shoulder and he stumbled back to kneel in the mud.

  ‘Help him,’ Harl said, nodding towards the general.

  The reserves had been cut off by the remaining cattle riders but they were brutally fighting their way to the lone general and it was only a matter of time before they reached him.

  The four of them raced for the wall crawler as it completed another circle around the general. Harl dropped to one knee and held his blade out as it trampled past. The notched blade carved through the scaly skin of its leg, threatening to wrench the blade from Harl’s fingers. The beast screeched and the bright green tail swung around at him. He threw himself flat on ground, letting it pass over him. It skimmed the back of his head, knocking his helmet off and his vision blurred as he tried to stand.

  Dana swept over to him and yanked him away from the stamping feet. He could just hear Damen’s roar over the thumping in his heart as the bearded warrior threw himself under the crawlers neck raising his axe so it tore through its throat.

  The beast slumped and the man in the saddle leapt down at Damen screaming with rage. He drew a curved blade as he landed on top of him. Harl staggered forward to help but he was too late. The general had stepped in and plunged his sword into the rider. He let the body slide off the weapon and stepped back to examine Damen as the hunter stood up.

  ‘Watch out,’ Harl called, seeing a group of the reserves had broken away from the thickest fight and were heading for them. Their cries of fury turned to excitement at having a chance to fight the silver general.

  The enemy spread out as they rushed them, the fastest separating from the slow.

  Dana raced forwards to meet one. She ducked a clumsy blow, coming up with both daggers behind the man and plunging the short blades deep into his back and forcing him to the ground.

  Damen cut down two as the general shifted in beside him. The pair were unstoppable. Damen used his axe to carve through armour, skin and bone while the general danced with expert swordplay to cut a path through half a dozen men. It was a bloody mess and Harl had only a moment to watch before one came straight for him.

  The reserves were clearly untrained and the man who sliced at Harl didn’t seem to know what to do when Harl stepped back and let the blade pass in front of him. Harl lunged forward and took him down with stab to the chest.

  The sound of battle dimmed around them until a loud buzzer sounded, followed by horns. The last few engaged in combat pulled blows, and as if they had never hated each other, they turned and trudged back up their respective hills.

  A group of silver painted men didn’t ride for the exit, but merged together and came down the hill towards the general. One came down among the weary soldiers, followed by the little boy, Half, who trailed behind the big man.

  ‘Sire,’ one of the blood splattered captains said bowing. ‘We saw your trouble but with their specials to fight, we couldn’t break them fast enough.’

  The general looked from Harl to Dana and Damen. Kane stumbled in beside them, his armour skewed and dented. ‘I think we had our own specials,’ the general said.

  One stepped forward and banged a fist to his chest. ‘One of them is to be a janitor, Sir,’ he said.

  ‘Whatever the watchers demand,’ The general said. ‘It was a hard fight but the rewards will be big. Give the men rest and host a feast in the great hall. Send the customary invitation to gold and have these men sit by me.’

  Dana looked up from cleaning her bloody daggers on the rags of a dead man and the general realised that she was female. ‘My apologies,’ he said and turned to One. ‘Inform the men that any who dares wrong this woman will be detonated. And One, make sure they receive collars, it wouldn't do to have the watchers see them without any.’

  Harl had guessed the collars were an explosive device of some sort. Damen had come to the same conclusion and he stepped forward and shook his head.

  ‘There is no choice,’ the general said before he could speak. ‘You’re a mighty warrior but if you’re unwilling to wear one then you will have to be killed.’ He shrugged as Damen tensed, ready for action.

  ‘We’ve no choice in the matter,’ the general said. ‘If the others see you do not have one then they will turn on you.’

  ‘And the janitor?’ One asked.

  The general shook his head. ‘You know the rules.’ He looked up at an elaborately armoured captain. The man had one eye and scratched at the old wound, stopping when he saw the general watching him.

  ‘What was the score Rentor?’ The General asked.

  ‘Three thousand and four men out,’ Rentor said, ‘and eleven hundred and seven returned.’

  The general sighed but nodded, ‘and the golds?’

  ‘Three thousand men out and a specials unit, nine hundred and seventy returned.

  ‘We fought well.’ the general said, ‘Come, we should get back below.’ he looked up at the gleeful Aylen heads peering in over them. ‘Before we are forced.’

  Harl trudged back up the hill behind the others in silence. He felt weak from the battle as the adrenaline dissipated and his emotions drained. His mind told him he should be proud to have lived through such an event, but in his heart he knew that this was some sick game of the Aylen. It linked so much. The first time he had entered a tank that had housed men trained for these sort of games. It took him a moment to recall the battle scarred face of Drew, who had been trained most of his life to fight in battles for the Aylen’s pleasure. The man had sacrificed himself to let Harl and the others escape from the tanks. He hoped the man’s death had been swift and as painless as possible.

  Harl caught Kane looking back and the tears behind his glasses told him the man felt the same. Harl forced his legs into a jog and sped up to fall in beside him.

  ‘What now?’ Harl asked.

  ‘We have to find a way out and reach the reactor,’ Kane said. ‘I don’t know how long I can stand being in this place.’

  ‘How are we going to get out?’

  Kane scratched at a fresh cut on his chin. ‘I cannot say yet. But those men give me hope.’ He nodded at a train of orange robed men dressed the same as the pilot Four had thrown over the edge. They filed out from a hidden door in the side of the arena walls and began to gather weapons and shift the dead into a sickening pile of limbs and blank stares. A few supported injured men into a group where they waited together.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Harl said.

  ‘If I am correct,’ Kane said, ‘then they are called janitors and the robe that came down the slide after us indicated that one of us will be joining their ranks.’ He smiled as if it was a privilege that they had selected him.

  ‘You want to clean up dead bodies?’ Harl could see the benefit of gaining the weapons of the fallen but it wasn’t enough to get them out.

  Kane seemed to guess his scepticism and he grinned. ‘What do you see about them?’

  Harl shrugged. ‘They’re wearing orange?’

  ‘No, Harl,’ Kane said, ‘They are not wearing collars.’

  Chapter 32

  I need a proper home. I cant live in this metal cube any longer. I’m going to build a true home somewhere inside this core to live
with the scent of growing things drifting in the air. Time to build.

  A trio of janitors waited for them at the top of the hill, blocking their path through the ornate double doors that led back inside the walls of the table

  ‘We can’t let you inside without the proper accoutrements.’

  ‘Proper what?’ Damen growled.

  ‘Collars.’

  ‘You haven’t any,’ Damen said.

  The men scowled, obviously not used to such confrontation.

  ‘The collars are part of the deal,’ the silver general said, stopping in the entrance and turning back to them.

  Harl stepped forward in front of the men as one held up a collar. He knew that once it was around his neck there would be no going back, he’d be a slave to the system but they would surely be killed if they refused. Damen stared at the men as if daring them to try. They looked up meaningfully at the Aylen above. It peered down at the exchange with interest.

  Harl let the nearest janitor put one around his neck and shivered involuntarily as the cold metal made contact with his skin.

  Damen stepped forward, ‘Get on with it then,’ he said and stared defiantly up at the face.

  ‘Careful,’ Kane said. ‘We have better things to do right now.’

  ‘You’re coming with us,’ one of the men said and thrust a bundle of orange out to Kane.

  Once they past through the doors, the general bade Kane fairwell and promised Harl, Dana and Damen a feast worthy of warriors.

  ‘You can join us for the feast,’ he called out to Kane before the doors slammed shut.

  He looked at the collar around Harl’s neck. ‘You’re silvers now,’ he said. ‘You should be proud to have joined us. I will see you at the feast.’ He glanced down at the blood and dirt coating his armour, then at their dishevelled appearance. ‘After we’ve all had a bath.’

  Harl, Damen and Dana were shown to an expansive room lined with large baths of steaming water where hundreds of men were washing away the filth of war.