Before she could respond to the Tuonellian’s taunting words, the Hulk lashed out at her with both fists. Striking out defensively Enelya tried to block the flurry of blows coming at her. She managed to ward off the initial attack, but she’d already pushed her body as far as it could go.
The first hit that made it through numbed her arm to the shoulder, while the second set her head spinning. Bringing her tambos together two-handed, she spun around hammering at the incoming strikes when there was a dull crack. After that, her defenses crumbled. Enelya lost count how many times the cruel blows pummeled her body. The next thing Enelya knew she was on her hands and knees with her long mane of brown dreadlocks hanging before her eyes. Somehow she’d managed to hang onto her tambos throughout the beating.
Gasping in pain, Enelya pushed herself to her feet. Bloody bruises covered her body as her arms hung uselessly at her sides. White pieces of cracked bones protruded from her chest as her breaths came in whistling gasps. She was in no condition to fight, but still she refused to simply lay her head down and accept her fate.
Facing the cruel beast once more, Enelya whimpered unconsciously. Struggling to lift her tambos before her once more, she watched dully as the Hulk crossed the distance between them. From the smoky haze behind the creature came the legionnaires that had been chasing after them. Subdued, the Minotaurs followed at a respectful distance. They were all bloody and battered, but still thirty bulls strong. Tauntingly the Tuonellian sneered at her.
“Your race is nothing more than meat sacks, herd animals for the Master Race’s consumption.”
Enelya’s stomach turned at the Hulk’s words as bile rose in her throat. They had all heard stories of the Tuonellian brutality of eating the dead and wounded after a battle, but what had happened in the Imperium had been an atrocity. Entire cities slaughtered like beasts to feed the Horde’s hunger. Those deaths could just have just as easily been her Clan. Seeing the Minotaurs’ cowed heads, she couldn’t for the life of her understand why the Imperium had chosen to align itself with that same evil. In her heart, Enelya knew there was no hope of survival. Still she refused to bow her head to this abomination. Lifting her chin defiantly Enelya spat blood into the Hulk’s beady red eyes.
“Master Race? You and your spawn are nothing more than nafda to the Tuonellian Highborn you serve.” Seeing rage flash in the Hulk’s eyes, she laughed into the creature’s deformed face. “No matter what happens to me, you are still nothing more than a beast lapping at your Master’s feet.“ Enelya cried out as the Hulk’s clawed fist backhanded her in rage. The force of the blow sent her sprawling to the edge of the Otso River as the creature raged in anger.
“I will rend the flesh from your bones before your eyes, and you will beg for death before I’m finished with you.” Enelya’s eyes rolled back in her head as the Tuonellian lifted her into the air by her long mane. As the Hulk’s gaping maw opened to rip a chunk of her face off, she heard a bellowing war cry as the sounds of combat rang out around her.
“For the Imperium!”
The Hulk threw her broken body aside as it turned to face the new threat. Lying on the wet sand confused, Enelya watched a line of legionnaires attacked their own people as the Tuonellian rushed forward roaring in fury. Before the Hulk could reach the battle, a howling white shape slammed into it from the side. In a tangled pile of flailing limbs, the creatures went down as her mind dully registered what she was seeing.
Still, no matter what happened it was too late for her and Argus. Enelya’s only prayer was that her Clan would be warned about the Tuonellian threat before it was too late. Numbly Enelya reached out with her small hand searching for her soulmate. She wanted to hold Argus in her arms one last time before she bled to death. Feeling rigid leather under her palm, Enelya lifted her head bewildered as her eyes focused on an armored figure lying next to her in the wet sand, when her heart caught in her throat.
“Klavikian!”
Hope flared in Enelya’s heart as she hurriedly crawled to the warrior’s side. Touching the battered face with her bloody hand, she froze as man’s yellow glowing eyes suddenly snapped open.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Location Earth / Sean MacRory:
Stepping out onto the main deck, Captain MacRory took a swig of from his steaming mug as he nodded to the armed crewman standing guard at the gangplank. The reddish glow of the man’s Rök runes were clearly visible on his muscular arms and gave the razor-sharp edge of the Sparth axe held in his hands an ominous gleam in the early morning light. Across the breadth of the ship, Sean could feel the presence of the other three guards keeping watch for intruders; their active runes made them appear like beacons in his mind. Shifting his tight shoulders, Sean unconsciously adjusted the claymore strapped to his back as he made his way to the ship’s gunwale.
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Sean eyed the troops that had taken possession of the small island. He hadn’t slept in over forty-eight hours, twenty-four of which the ship had been at general quarters. Once the black ops team had carried away Doctor Evans and Ms. Wrigley, they’d been forced to move quickly to secure the ship. While taking care of the boarding party had been easy enough to handle, the company of pissed off Army Rangers and brigade of Marine Raiders with their air support was another matter altogether. Thankfully the situation hadn’t escalated beyond what they had, or things could have gotten dicey.
Cracking his knuckles Sean’s face took on a stern look as his large hands gripped the Triumph’s railing. If it had turned into a fight, the old girl would have taken a pounding, but she’d been built to take the abuse. Trying to stop a tramp freighter with a hand-weapons was like trying to drop a bull elephant with a twenty-two. Meaning, it wasn’t going to happen.
Taking a deep breath, Sean released the tension building up in his shoulders. Even though the soldiers had returned the women relatively unharmed to the ship hours ago, he wasn’t willing to take any more chances with their safety. The only changes he’d made was to release the three combat teams they’d taken into custody and to assign rotating shifts to keep everyone’s energy pools as charged up as possible. Better to have his crew ready to go at a moment’s notice than to be caught off-guard by their new so-called “allies.”
Sean snorted at the word. “Allies,” what a bloody joke that was. Below him, the whole island was lit up in a harsh bluish-white glare by the Marine Expeditionary Force’s metal halide lighting towers that had been deployed during the night. Several companies of Marine Raiders had flown in at dusk and was still in the process of setting up camp as a forest of tents slowly began taking shape around the ship. By now there had to be at least five hundred soldiers on the island. In a way, he was thankful they were here. At least, he didn’t have to worry about policing the hordes of arriving scientists, news crews, and Atlantis nuts that were showing up at a steady rate.
For a moment, Sean glowered as he caught sight of the men in black fatigues guarding the entrance to the dock. Officially the SEAL teams had been assigned to coordinate the security needs of the archeological site, but he knew the real reason they were here was to keep a watch over the Triumph and her crew. He almost laughed out loud remembering Lieutenant Ferguson’s face when he explained to the man that he and his men were not welcomed onboard his ship. He thought Riggs, the Chief Petty Officer who’d come with the Lieutenant, was going to jump him in a fit of rage, but a couple of choice words from Doctor Evans took the wind out of the cocky soldier’s sails.
Sean immediately knew what the problem was. Top combat teams were used to thinking of themselves as being the best of the best. Being taken out by a bunch of unarmed merchant marine sailors must have seriously hurt their professional pride. Wrapping a large callused hand around the hilt of his claymore, Sean let the strength of the metal seep into his soul as he gave a quick prayer to Ukko. There were some odd looks from the soldiers at the axes and swords that the crew now carried and a few crude jokes about the ship being manned by a bunch of SCA rejects, bu
t no one tried telling them they couldn’t wear the weapons. A wicked grin spread across Sean’s face. If they only knew just how dangerous the blades were in his peoples’ hands, they would be having an entirely different conversation altogether.
The claymore strapped to Sean’s back was named Morthwyl Gelyn and had been a part of the Gallowglass Clan for over five hundred years, a relic from another age that had been passed down between father and son throughout the generations of his family. To his people the worked metal had a life of its own. Taken from the womb of the earth that was its mother and crafted into a blade by the smith who became its father, the soul of the sword grew from the blood of the warriors that wielded the blade and from the purpose for which it was used. For centuries, this venerable weapon had been a protector of his Clan and a symbol of their strength and honor, until modern technology turned it into a shadow of the past. The last time the claymore had been carried into battle was during the First World War, when his great-great-great-grandfather had carried the blade with him during his time serving with the Ulster Division as a Loyalist. Since then, Morthwyl Gelyn had hung on the wall like an ancient hero that had been laid to rest; an all but forgotten tribute to the once greatness of his people.
A hard smile turned up the corners of Sean’s lips. It was really no surprise that the Clans had become enamored with the Ukkodian religion upon its introduction to the British Isles. It was as if the druidic ‘All-father’ had returned to the Isles. Honorable warriors fighting with rune forged blades and charged with upholding justice. How could his people not fall in love with this new religion? Whether it was his Clan’s traditional Norse heritage or that of the Celtic Tribes that were native to the Isles, runes and blades had been an integral part of their religion and culture long before there was a written language.
Hearing hurried footfalls behind him, Sean looked over his shoulder to see the large Pollok that was his First Officer striding towards him. The blonde man’s rough-cut hair blew in the wind as his intense green eyes took a quick survey of the island. Coming to a stop behind Sean, he snapped to attention.
“Captain.”
“At ease Mr. Dudek.” Grinning, Sean nodded for Adam to join him at the gunwale. “If you keep addressing me like that they’re going to think we’re military.”
With a boyish grin that belied his age, Adam joined him at the railing in his study of the island. “You know what they say in Poland, Captain. You can take the man out of the GROM, but you can’t take the GROM out of the man.”
For a long moment, Sean considered his words before speaking. “Mr. Dudek, I would appreciate it if you could escort Doctor Evans and her crew while they are on the island. I’d like you to take Hans and Wolfgang with you for support.”
Arching an eyebrow the First Officer looked at him questioningly. “You’re expecting that much trouble from the Americans?”
“No, not the Americans.” Seeing Adam’s askance face, Sean explained further. “Oh don’t get me wrong. The bloody bastards have pissed me off rightly enough, and if that Riggs character lays a hand on the Doctor or anyone else in the crew I expect you to break it off and beat him to death with it, but that’s not what has me going. It’s more of a feeling in the pit of my stomach that just won’t go away.”
“You mean like a message from Ukko, Sir?” Most non-Ukkodians would have thought his First Officer was making fun of him if they’d overheard the conversation, but that wasn’t the case. They were both warriors of Ukko and had been blessed by the light, but that didn’t mean Ukko actually communed with them on a regular basis.
For a second, Sean was at a loss for words as he tried to describe the foreboding feeling he had. Once you were accepted as an Ukkodian, you could feel the presence of Ukko inside your soul. It was the feeling of never being alone. Over time, the intensity of that touch somewhat faded, but it never completely went away. What he was feeling now though was something completely different.
“Do you remember the story of when John asked Startüm about communing with Ukko? We all laughed when he described it as trying to learn physics from a mime.”
“Yea, I remember. We had a pretty good laugh about it at the time. Especially when John tried to pantomime the day’s lesson. But you know what? Later on, the more I thought about it, the more it made a certain kind of sense. In all the videos and stories I’ve ever heard of Startüm, he never claimed to be the Prophet of Ukko or saying that his teachings were the word of God. He always emphasized that what he taught was his interpretation of Ukko’s will and that each of us would have to find our own path to understanding.”
Looking at Sean closely Adam searched his face. “Why, is Ukko miming his wisdom to you now?”
Meeting his First Officer’s eyes, Sean spoke suddenly serious. “Hard to say. It’s like having something on the tip of your tongue. I have this overwhelming feeling that something terrible is about to happen, but no matter how hard I try to understand what it is, the feeling just slips away.“ Gripping the gunwale with both hands, Sean’s muscles tensed as he looked out at the brightening horizon. “I want you to keep close to Doctor Evans. Make sure that either you or Frank are with her at all times whenever she’s off the boat.”
Snapping to attention, Adam gave him a stiff salute speaking with a heavy Polish accent. “I vill guard her vit my life, Kapitan.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dudek. I know you will.” Seeing Doctor Evans and her team piling out onto the deck with their gear, Sean clapped his First Officer on the shoulder. “Let’s go talk to the good Doctor so that I can get some shuteye while things are quiet.” He pulled Adam in close emphasizing his next words, “If anything comes up I want you to radio Mr. Crosslander immediately.”
“Of course, Kapitan.”
***
Location Earth / Larissa Evans:
“Well, that’s a load of bollocks!”
Larissa felt her gut unconsciously tighten as a squad of six black fatigued soldiers suddenly appeared from the shadows as they neared the end of the docks. Seeing Chief Petty Officer Riggs at their lead, Larissa spoke in a hushed whisper to her team without turning her head. “No matter what that bloody bugger says, we are not stopping.” Squaring her shoulders, Larissa muttered out loud to herself as a mountain of muscle stepped up beside her. “I am not about to start asking for permission every time I want to enter my own bloody dig.”
Without saying a word, Larissa eyed the large First Officer walking beside her as he gave her a knowing wink. A second later Hans and Wolfgang moved up behind them as she was suddenly surrounded by three of the biggest men she’d ever met in her life. Feeling suddenly more confident she returned the man’s easy smile.
There was no question First Officer Adam Dudek was easy on the eyes and from the gossip she had heard from the women on her team, the First Officer was quite the ladies’ man as well. With those rugged looks and broad shoulders, the man could have been a professional actor. She had never heard the story of how he had ended up as a member of the Triumph’s crew, but she was glad he was here now.
Focusing once more on the black squad spread out across their path, Larissa's voice took on a hard edge. “Riggs, you can either fall in with my people or go back to your tent, but get the bloody hell out of my way!” She held back a smile as the small man’s jaw clenched in anger at her words, but before he could respond a deep baritone called out behind him.
“Good morning, Doctor Evans. I’m glad to see you’re doing well this morning.”
“Lieutenant Ferguson, I wish I could say the same for you and your men.” This time, she did smile at the Lieutenant’s uncomfortable scowl. “Agent Kurwoski assured me that your men wouldn’t interfere with my peoples’ work.”
“That she did Doctor. My men are here for your peoples’ safety.”
“Safety from what, thirty-five hundred-year-old corpses? This is an archeology site, not a game of Crypt Creeper, Lieutenant.”
“Ma’am, you said it yourself that this discovery is going t
o rock the world and throw into question everything known about ancient civilizations and the evolution of humankind. Have you even bothered to follow the religious controversy that your pictures have already ignited around the world?”
“I do not see what that has to do with my dig one way or another, Lieutenant. I am here to uncover the truth, not to worry about what a bunch of religious fanatics think about my discovery.”
“That’s exactly my point Doctor. Do you think all of these visitors flooding the island are coming with your peoples’ goodwill in mind?” Seeing her grimace the Lieutenant knew he’d scored a point. “We’re here to watch out for your peoples’ lives against those fanatics that would do anything to keep your discovery hidden.”
“And we thank you for your protection.” Stepping up to Riggs like she was going to walk right through him, she paused in midstride giving the Lieutenant a questioning look. “Now if you do not mind, we have work to do.”
For a moment, the Lieutenant said nothing as he ground his teeth in frustration. “Riggs, let them through.”
Larissa started forward just as the First Officer stepped in front of her slamming his shoulder into the Chief’s chest as Hans and Wolfgang followed suit behind him widening the sudden hole in the line of men blocking their path. With a snarl of rage, Riggs tried shoving the larger man out of his way, but it was like trying to move a mountain as his men started forward angrily.
“Enough!” Lieutenant Ferguson’s bellow stopped the SEAL team in their tracks as he caught the collar of Riggs’ BDU’s.
“Let’s go people. We don’t have all day.” Unconcerned, Larissa started forward calling out over her shoulder. “Lieutenant, I expect not to have this discussion again or I will be forced to ask Agent Kurwoski for assistance.”
As the archeology team headed for the entrance to the dead volcano, Lieutenant Ferguson snapped out a reply as he held Riggs’ eyes with his own. “Yes, Ma’am. I’m sure WE won’t have any more problems with this.”
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