by T. C. Edge
Or maybe I’m just being ultra paranoid. It’s so difficult to tell these days…
“And his designs for us?” questions Rycard. “I assume you found no hidden plot to destroy us or betray us in this pact?”
Zander shakes his head.
“Nothing like that,” he says. “Though, we can’t rule it out either. It does appear that his primary function right now is to provide sanctuary for the Savants in the city and protect them. They are his priority, but beyond that, he appears to harbour no real grudge against the City Guards who joined our cause, or the people in general.”
“Well, he wouldn’t, would he?” says Rycard. “Warped as his thinking is, he’s at least consistent in wishing to proliferate the Savants. Seeing as so many have now been killed, he’ll need the rest of the people to help rebuild. The landscape is totally different now. And, well, he’s a Savant, so only thinks logically. I don’t think he’ll desire revenge over us or anything like that. What do you think, Lady Orlando? You know him better than all of us put together.”
She considers it for a second before speaking.
“I agree with what you just said, Rycard. Artemis wishes to grow the Savant population, and that hasn’t changed. And yes, he’ll need regular Enhanced and Unenhanced to help do that now, more than ever before. So, yes, defending the city will be his top priority. And given his current stance, creating a peaceful pact between us would appear to be the most logical way forward. Is that what you saw in his mind, Zander?”
My brother nods.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Well then, the immediate focus for us is clear – we need to think about destabilising this forward unit. Zander, what else did you find out about them?”
“Not much more than what he told us. He certainly has scouts posted towards the edges of the western woods and beyond. The smaller force looks, as he said, to be a couple of hundred strong, and are certainly no negotiation party. They’ll likely be here by tonight. We don’t have much time to debate this.”
“Tonight?” gasps Beckett. “Well that hardly gives us a chance to prepare.”
“No, it doesn’t,” says Lady Orlando. “It would appear that this new war has come to us quicker than expected.”
“So what’s the plan?” questions Beckett. “You confirm that we’re to operate alongside Cromwell’s Stalkers?”
Somewhat begrudgingly, my grandmother nods.
“We have no choice.” She turns to Freya. “Get him back in.”
Freya marches to the door, opens it up, and Cromwell returns along with Woolf. He retakes his seat calmly, seeming fully aware of what’s just gone on within the room.
“How many Stalkers do you have, Artemis?” Lady Orlando asks.
He rubs his chin in thought.
“Hmmmm, how many is it, Romelia? A little under two hundred I believe.”
“Yes, Director Cromwell,” says Woolf. “One hundred and eighty six.”
“There you have it, Cornelia.”
“And how many are you planning on sending to ambush this advance force?”
“I’d say about fifty of my better ones should do it.”
“You don’t think you should use more?” she queries.
“Well, you know my Stalkers. Killing machines. I’m assuming, of course, that you’ll match that number with your own hybrids?”
Lady Orlando looks to Beckett.
“That would be most of our elites,” Beckett says. “It seems rather dangerous risking them all.”
“Needs must, Mr Beckett,” says Cromwell. “There are hundreds and hundreds of City Guards in the city, and many, many more of your own soldiers. I also have thousands of Con-Cops. We have more than enough to defend the walls, but if we merely allow them to walk through the woods without impediment, the challenge will be greater. My people calculate that defeating this smaller force will vastly weaken their main assault…”
“Then add more of your Stalkers to the cause,” says Beckett. “Why supply only fifty when you know there are two hundred or more soldiers incoming, potentially very powerful ones?”
“Because, as I say, my men are perfectly capable of dealing with this threat, as long as you supply the same number. Yes, they will have some powerful men with them, but our combined force of hybrids, on either side, will overwhelm them in these lands. After all, they are lands we know well, and they do not. Now come, Cornelia, let us make this decision and move on. They are coming, and coming fast.”
“Fine, fifty of yours and fifty of ours,” decides Lady Orlando swiftly. “We’ll eliminate them and, if a chance to do so arises, will seek to negotiate with their leaders when they arrive. I will not completely discount the possibility of diplomacy, despite what you say. However, it appears that we’ll need to strike first of all.”
As Cromwell’s teeth appear beneath a half-smile, Lady Orlando turns once more to Beckett.
“Return to Inner Haven immediately and gather your men,” she says. You know the western woods well. Use the advantage, Beckett, and only engage if you feel you have the upper hand. Retreat if you need to.”
Her eyes swing back to Cromwell.
“Who leads your Stalkers?” she asks.
“Colonel Hatcher,” he replies.
“He’s still alive then,” remarks Lady Orlando. “See that he liaises with Beckett. No funny business now, Artemis. We have no choice but to trust you on this.”
He nods respectfully, and I feel the lurching sickness in the depths of my gut begin to rumble. I feel I have to be there too.
“What about me? And Zander?” I ask.
My grandmother might, I suspect, wish to keep us safe from all this. Though, I’m sure she knows that’s not possible. Zander, in particular, needs to be at the front and centre of any fight, despite the injury to his shoulder that won’t get much time to recover now.
“I require something different of you two,” she informs us. “You say, Zander, that Rhoth remains resolute in his position and refuses to leave the woods?”
My brother nods.
“Well then, this presents both problem and opportunity. Let’s focus on the latter. Go to Rhoth again, both of you, and seek his aid. If he’s to defend his lands, then that’s fine. We can use his knowledge of the woods and abilities as a hunter and trapper.”
“He was injured during the fight with Bjorn, Lady Orlando,” I say. “He might not be in much of a position to fight.”
“Then take medicine,” she says immediately. “We can ill afford Rhoth falling into enemy hands. He has too much knowledge of us now and could be used against us. Let’s make him an asset instead.”
I nod, and so does Zander. I didn’t think it would happen this fast, but I’m rather happy to be heading out to warn Rhoth and the Fangs of what’s coming. They have become quite dear to me.
“Freya and Rycard, you two will continue to arrange the forces at home and bolster the city’s defences. And Artemis, make sure you order your loyal City Guards to help.”
“Oh, I will Cornelia. Worry not.”
“And where will you go?” she queries.
“Well, for now I’ll return to the REEF. However, once this force has been dealt with, I’ll require sanctuary within the city walls. The REEF is a fortress, but not one capable of withstanding an attack of thousands. My Stalkers will prove their worth. I hope that will satisfy you and show you my loyalty to this mutual cause of ours?”
A shiver runs up my spine at his words. He’s slithering back through the door…
“We’ll speak once it’s done,” says Lady Orlando dispassionately. “I can make no other promise than that.”
An equally impassive expression marches onto Cromwell’s face. And with that, the meeting ends.
4
As Cromwell heads off back out of the gate along with Woolf, the rest of us remain behind for a brief few moments. Once more, our leader reiterates the need for haste to all of us, before sending Adryan, Beckett, Rycard and Freya from the room, all
of them ready to be quickly returned to the city to continue their duties.
Alone now with only my grandmother and brother, I wonder if she’s about to reveal who she is to him. She sways her eyes over us affectionately, and delays a moment before speaking. When she does, her voice is soft.
“How’s the shoulder, Zander?” she asks.
My brother stiffens.
“Fine,” he announces stoically.
“I’m not asking too much of you, am I?” she queries, glancing at both of us. “I forget sometimes how young you both are.”
Zander seems almost insulted by the insinuation.
“You could ask plenty more, Lady Orlando, and it still wouldn’t be enough. I’m happy to serve this cause, and to serve you, whatever the task may be.”
She smiles and reaches out, cupping his cheek with her wrinkled palm.
“My dear boy, I don’t deserve you. Either of you,” she adds, looking to me. “I…”
She trails off and looks away, before recomposing herself.
“You’re well rested?” she asks.
We both nod.
“And you have everything you need?”
She scans us, fully armoured and armed with our pulse rifles, sidearms, knives, grenades, and all manner of goodies.
“We are, Lady Orlando,” confirms Zander.
She frowns a little at the official title and shakes her head. Once more, I think she might tell Zander the truth. But once more, she refuses the urge.
“You can call me Cornelia if you wish,” she says. “My name is no secret now.”
“Um…if that’s what you want,” says Zander, rather rigidly.
She shakes her head.
“Only if you want,” she says. Then she waves her hand and looks to the door. “It doesn’t matter,” she mutters. “You should probably get going sooner rather than later. You know where Rhoth’s village is?”
“I do.”
“Then go to him. At least, even if he chooses not to help, you’ll give him some warning. I think Rhoth has earned that, with all he’s done to aid us.”
“I agree,” I say avidly.
“And the others?” asks Zander.
“Beckett will arrange attack and ambush plans for our men, and will work closely with Colonel Hatcher. The Colonel is a staunch military man, and isn’t dissimilar to Beckett as it happens. They should be able to work together just fine.”
“Right. We’ll join then in the fight whether Rhoth is with us or not,” says Zander. “I’ll contact him on the radio.”
Lady Orlando nods silently. Ever since I discovered her true identity, she’s seemed, in my eyes at least, to have grown averse to putting either of us in unnecessary danger.
“And this Colonel Hatcher?” I ask. “Is he a Stalker as well?”
Lady Orlando nods.
“In title, I suppose, though he’s more than that. He’ll make a useful ally for the time being.”
“Yeah, he’s a ruthless commander,” adds Zander. “Let’s hope that Beckett puts his animosity aside for the time being.”
“He will,” confirms Lady Orlando. “Beckett speaks his mind and that’s a good thing, but when the time comes and the decision is made, he’ll see it done.”
“So…this is really happening,” I say, looking to the both of them. “We’re fighting with the Stalkers. With Cromwell. I mean, that’s weird for me, and I’ve only been on the scene for a few months. It must be ultra odd for the both of you…”
“War is odd, Brie,” says Lady Orlando, nodding. “Sometimes you need to compromise, even with an enemy, if it serves the greater good. Believe me, I wish there was another way out of this, but so far Artemis has been good on his word. We know full well that our history has been…troubled…but personal issues need to be swept to one side at times like this.”
She turns her focus specifically on me as she speaks, as if offering warning to continue to keep her secrets. Zander peers with some interest, though I know full well that he won’t be reading her thoughts. Unlike me, he refuses to do so on friends and….family.
“I guess,” I concede, hating that fact. “I still don’t trust him, though.”
“And nor should you. You may deal with the devil, but you don’t have to trust him. All of us must continue to be vigilant at times like this. But alas, time is becoming a problem. So you must go. Good luck, you wonderful pair. I’ll see you back in the city soon.”
We leave the small barracks to the side of the gate, and Lady Orlando heads for her escort to be returned to Inner Haven. The garrison of soldiers at the western gate remains large, and work continues to be done to strengthen the city’s defences. I look upon it all and consider that no army would attempt to breach the gates, so well defended as they are, not when so many sections of the wall remain far more exposed.
“When this army gets here, they’re not gonna come this way,” I say, looking out upon the gate.
“If,” corrects Zander. “If we can stop them at source, we will.”
“Sure. But let’s say they reach the walls. The city’s huge. There’s no chance we can protect the entire perimeter.”
My brother shakes his head.
“No, there isn’t. But we have mobile units capable of moving into position very quickly. And should Outer Haven be breached, we have Inner Haven to fall back to, and that’s much easier to defend.”
Seeing the worry on my face, he adds, “It won’t come to that, Brie. I know we’ve seen some strange people with strange powers recently, but I can’t imagine that this entire army is filled with them. Hybrids are rare, and they won’t have the weaponry we do. And you know what, I’ve fought the Stalkers for years…I know just how much of an asset they’ll be. I’m sure this army is made up of regular soldiers, maybe even mostly Unenhanced. I reckon they have no idea what they’re getting themselves into.”
He smiles weakly and lays an arm over my shoulder, pulling me into an abbreviated, brotherly hug.
“I’ll always be there to protect you,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Now come on, let’s go see the big man…again!”
As we move off through the gate, and the wilds present themselves before me once more, I review his words and know that they’re designed to sooth my concerns. Because really, my brother isn’t so naïve as to believe what he’s just said. If this army are coming, then they’re coming for a reason and know just what they’re up against.
Call me paranoid, but I’m not quite so optimistic.
5
According to my brother, the main village of the Fangs is deep in the western woods and quite difficult to find. Though the Fangs tend to move around occasionally, using hunting lodges whilst tracking prey and gathering food for winter and times of hardship, they maintain a permanent station in a secret grove, well concealed among the rocks at the heart of the forest.
I put it to Zander that Rhoth is surely safe if the village is so well hidden. His retort is that, with an army of upwards of ten thousand passing straight through, he might well be stumbled upon.
Moreover, Rhoth isn’t the type to cower and hide with the women and children. In fact, from what I’ve heard, the women and children of the Fangs are fine warriors themselves. Growing up under perpetual threat from the beasts, Shadows, rival tribes, and natural forces of the wilds would certainly serve to make the people hardy, regardless of gender and age.
Rhoth did tell us, belligerent as he is, that he’d defend his lands if he needed to. Zander was pretty adamant that he’d be overrun, and while Rhoth is clearly a fine leader and commander, he might be slightly ignorant of just what we’re facing. He might be able to defend his lands against an onslaught from the Bear-Skins or Skullers, but an army of thousands would quickly destroy him and his entire tribe should they have the mind to do so.
And, while the village is well hidden, it’s quite possible that it’s also well known. After all, if this army from the west have been sending in scouts to watch over Haven, they’re sure to have learned
all about the surrounding tribes as well. If they know where the Fangs live, then they’ll either choose to parlay with them and bring them into the fold, ignore them, or destroy them on their path to Haven. Only one of those options sounds good to me.
With the morning taken by our discussions with Cromwell, the afternoon quickly gets underway as we trek through the wilds. We travel at as speedy a pace as we can through the thickening thickets, clogged up with tangled trees and only occasionally breaking into little clearings and more sparsely populated groves.
It’s a good time of day for it. With the sun bright and casting its light through the foliage, the lurking beasts of the wild are mostly kept at bay. It’s a nocturnal place, where the creeping creatures seek darkness and gloom to strike. Dusk is when they begin to stir, though storms that blot out the light also tend to bring them out of their slumber.
Now, though, Zander tells me we’re quite able to operate without too much fear of an attack. That’s especially the case as we work fairly close to the REEF, where the Stalkers are likely to be scouting and thus scaring away the local fauna.
Oddly, knowing that there might well be little patrols of Stalkers nearby puts me on edge more than anything the wilderness might throw up. Ever since being brought into the fold, it’s the black-clad hybrids who cause the most concern in me. It’s a habit that’s grown and is having trouble being broken, worrying that one of them might leap from the trees and attempt to strike us down.
That concern hasn’t been completely assuaged by this temporary pact. I still can’t shake the idea that Cromwell’s up to something.
“So what was it like in his head,” I ask my brother as we work our way west. “Cromwell, I mean.”
“Same as most Savants really,” says Zander. “You know what it’s like.”
“Yeah. So what, no demons and monsters lurking in there. That’s kinda what I imagine the inside of his mind to be like. Lakes of molten lava and pits of pain and torture. You know, hell…”
“A nightmare, basically?”