by Brad R. Cook
I rolled away as the next set of artillery from the train assaulted me. I looked out the visor and caught a glimpse of the Imperial Airship. Genevieve jumped off the airship. Terror gripped me and I turned in her direction. She was going to plummet to her death. Rodin, too, glided behind her, but didn’t even try to slow her. She pulled a handle, and a mass of fabric trailed behind her. A metal canister on her back ignited, shooting fire out behind her. The fabric billowed as the balloon swelled, and Genevieve gently drifted down to the ground. She immediately cut her pack and balloon free, and ran inside the crumbled airship, emerging a few moments later in the Bronze Knight. Now it was a real battle. We finally had an advantage: four Iron Knights against two Iron Horsemen and the Milli-train.
I spun the Black Knight around, turning my cannons on the Milli-train, in hopes I could keep it from invading the village.
As Genevieve and I rolled across the grasslands, I realized I was a knight. Decked out in armor, I not only had a steed with iron treads, I had a sword, a shield, and a cannon that acted like a lance. My dreams had come true. I may not be an official knight of the realm, but that didn’t matter. Like the legendary knight—a commoner, some said—who did not rely on his heraldry, or the prince who defied his king to fight in the tournament, I was the Black Knight.
CHAPTER 42
THE HEART OF THE HORSEMEN
Instead of invading the village head on, the Milli-train formed a circle at its edge. Then it opened fire. With shells exploding around me, I pulled myself up to the visor searching for the Iron Horsemen, but found no sign of either demonic steed.
I dodged the cannon fire, zigzagging my way toward the other Iron Knights. We all fired on the Milli-train’s open gunports.. The Iron Zulu and Iron Templar then whipped around and fired on the engine, while the Bronze Knight and my Black Knight pounded the cannon cars directly facing the village.
Genevieve rolled up in the Bronze Knight close to the train and as a cannon fired she raised her shield and deflected the shot back into the train. My cheer was short-lived as a Gatling gun pelted my armor.
Smoke rose out of the center of the village. The Iron Horsemen. They’d slipped past us and attacked the villagers. Knowing most of the villagers had been sent across the river, I felt a moment of relief, but the thick black column of smoke within the village’s walls ignited a fiery rage within me. I waved the Black Knight’s cannon and yelled, “Genevieve! The Horsemen are in the city!”
Genevieve stopped. She pointed her cannon at the column and we advanced into the village.
We raced between the huts and crashed straight through the thicket fences, but I grinded to a stop when I saw Chief Zwelethu’s dwelling on fire. Thick black smoke consumed the structure.
I opened my visor and watched as the once beautiful archway and building crumbled and deteriorated to ash. I hoped no one was inside. The Iron Zulu then pulled up beside me and Owethu leapt out. He collapsed to his knees, reaching out with his hands.
I opened the chest plate on the Black Knight and climbed out. I hurried over to him and dropped beside him. I threw my arms around him, and he clung to me. “No one was inside,” I said, praying it was the truth.
Owethu only exhaled and stood, staring as the flaming roof of his home collapsed into itself.
Genevieve ran up with Rodin on her shoulder. “Owethu, I’m so sorry.”
He wiped the tears from his eyes, and a hard expression washed over his face. “Where are the horsemen?”
Genevieve shook her head. “I didn’t see them anywhere in the village.”
The ground shook beneath us. The three of us looked at each other.
“They’re under the village,” I said. Part of the flaming roof collapsed into itself, and fell into the ground. I looked at Owethu, “Was there a passage beneath your house?”
“I don’t know of one.” He ran his hand over his head. “My grandfather used to say our family protected the Zulu from a great evil, but I thought he meant outside the village.”
“We should investigate.” Genevieve motioned toward her Bronze Knight.
“What about the Milli-train?” I asked.
“The Sparrowhawk and Mr. Singh will keep them busy.” She pointed toward the sky where the airships circled like vultures above the battle.
We ran back to our armors and rolled into the midst of the fire. There we saw that the ground had been torn and ripped asunder, leaving a crater with a large passage leading underground. I wondered why Chief Zwelethu hadn’t said anything about the heart. Did he know? I believed Owethu, but as I thought about it, if I were guarding one of the hearts I wouldn’t tell anyone.
Iron Zulu led us into the underground passage. It opened up into a large central chamber supported by thick rock pillars and a forest of wooden beam scaffolding, just like a mine. We rolled past skeletons laid out in alcoves in the passage wall. As we approached a bend in the passage, an orange glow grew brighter.
I opened my armor and slowly climbed out. Peeking around the corner, I saw the two iron steeds at the end of the passage in another large chamber. Colonel Hendrix picked up a rock and pulled it up to his good eye. “Kannard, where is the gold?”
Kannard frantically searched through several urns nestled against one wall. “We’re here for something greater.”
Hendrix clenched his fist and the rock shattered. “What we need is gold.”
“Soon everything will be ours, including the gold” Kannard said, in a wicked tone. “With the four horsemen’s hearts in our possession, we will conquer and enslave the world.” Kannard continued to search the area. “I know this is the right place. Look around you mechanical monstrosity, can’t you feel that it is near?”
“With the money we’ve wasted this year searching for the hearts, I could have reformed the Confederacy.”
“There is plenty of gold across your American South.”
“I know I buried it.” Hendrix snarled, “but we’re supposed to be raising funds for the Inner Circle, not playing in the dirt.”
Kannard’s face flushed red with anger. “I am the Inner Circle! We don’t need more of your armored trains or gold. We need four Iron Horsemen with four worthy riders.”
The gears of Hendrix’s arm whirled as his hand retracted into his sleeve, replaced with its serrated blade, pointing at Kannard. “Four steeds with riders didn’t get it done last year. And the boy still isn’t willing to join us.”
Whoa, he was talking about me. I wanted to shout at them that I would never become a horseman.
“That diseased pirate was not worthy,” Kannard thundered. “The baroness, she is worthy, so we have our four horsemen. Now, we just need the last heart.”
“My patience … the Inner Circle’s patience, is limited,” Hendrix said.
Kannard smashed several of the urns and dug through their contents. Angered at finding no gold, Hendrix kicked the churned-up dirt, catching his foot on a clod. He paused and looked down, then knelt down and shoved his hand into the ground. As he pulled up a large clump of dirt, he again stood, scraping it with the serrated blade of his hand. A green stone. Hendrix gazed at the rock like a wild animal.
When he held up the object in his hand, my stomach twisted in knots. I didn’t need my ancestors to tell me I was in danger. I ran back to the Black Knight as Owethu and Genevieve shut the visors of their armor.
Hendrix stepped toward his horse. “Time to go, Kannard,” he said as he mounted his iron steed.
“I am in charge and you will do what I say!” Kannard shouted.
I stormed into the chamber. “No matter where you go, a great warrior will always be there to defend their people. And I will be there to stand with them.”
“Who dares to challenge me?” Kannard twirled around, pointing at my armor.
I took a deep breath and thought about what my heroes and friends would do. The captain would seize the room and keep them busy until he could spring his trap. The baron would attack swiftly and not stop until the battle was ov
er. My father would look for another way, and Grand Master Sinclair would want me to fight with honor. Mr. Singh would never turn from evil, Owethu would defend his home to the end, and Genevieve would be bold, daring, and certain of her actions.
I pushed open my visor so they could see me. “I am the Black Knight! Tamer of Horsemen.”
Kannard screamed, “You! Why is it always you?”
Hendrix shook his head, but tipped his hat. “Of course it’s the kid. Wouldn’t be anyone else.”
Kannard charged toward his iron steed. “I will kill him.” As he climbed into the saddle, he pointed to Hendrix and demanded, “Find the heart.” Then he saw the stone in Hendrix’s hand and charged over to him. “Give it to me!”
“No.”
“Colonel, I demand you follow my orders!”
“The Inner Circle was very clear.”
“I am the Inner Circle, you fool!”
“Not anymore.” Hendrix thrust his large steel sword at the iron steed. The blade slid along the horse’s neck kicking up sparks, and plunged into Kannard.
Kannard’s guttural cry reverberated through the passage. Hendrix released the sword and Kannard tumbled off the back of the horse. Immediately, Hendrix’s reared up his horse on its hooves and crushed down into the iron chest plate of the white Horseman of Disaster. Hendrix turned his mount, reached down, and yanked the urn free. Kannard lay motionless, his iron steed collapsing to scrap metal around him.
Cackling, Hendrix roared past us, firing on the stone columns that held up the ceiling.
Rock and wood tumbled down onto all of us as the entire passage shook. Although Hendrix had three hearts right now, all I could focus on was getting out of here alive. We rolled back toward the entrance. Hendrix exploded from the underground first with a column of dust and debris trailing behind him. We emerged from the passage as it collapsed behind us, only to ride headlong into the Milli-train’s concentrated fire.
Hendrix vaulted onto one of the passenger compartments of the train and hopped off. He turned toward the engine and disappeared while the armada rained down its fire.
He stepped up onto the engine and placed the heart in a compartment near the firebox. The Milli-train darkened as shadowy wisps of smoke oozed over its skin and trailed off every surface. A demonic fire burst out of the smoke stack and glowed throughout the open segments of the engine, along with the first few cars. The eerie orange glow snaked its way through the legs and under the cars.
“He put the heart in the train.” I gasped, and for a moment was unable to move.
The demonic Milli-train spit cannonballs, trailing huge columns of fire in their wake. Several hit the Imperial Airship, which crumpled and plunged out of the sky, slamming into the grass. Several airskiffs, too, were hit, but the Sparrowhawk avoided the cannon shot and returned fire.
CHAPTER 43
DEMONIC MILLI-TRAIN
The Black Knight, the Bronze Knight, and the Iron Templar raced around the Milli-train attempting to divert it from the village. We had to stop them. This was Owethu’s family, his home. We had to defend at least what remained.
As I crossed in front of the Iron Templar, Mr. Singh headed toward Owethu. I managed to avoid the gun turrets as they continued to fire at me. I retaliated with my cannon but the round exploded on the iron plates and didn’t penetrate its armor.
The Iron Templar fired repeatedly on them, too, but the train avoided each incoming round, swatting them away with its legs as if they were just pesky flies. Drawing the immense longsword, the Iron Templar set its shield arm and charged the train.
Owethu advanced on the Milli-train, too. He fought like nothing I’d seen before. At Eton, he was nice and calm, but now he had a warrior’s focus, fueled by passion. His courage ignited a fire within me; I wouldn’t stop until his people were safe.
I rolled past Genevieve and stopped. She looked at me through her visor with a puzzled expression.
“Hit the last car,” I yelled. I didn’t know if she could hear me, but I hoped she could see me.
She nodded and sped off.
I reversed and turned as twin rounds slammed into the ground in front of where I’d just been. I stepped on the pedal and rushed toward the back of the train. Raising my cannon suspended underneath the forearm of the Black Knight, I focused on the last car of the Milli-train. A hatch flipped open on the train beside me, I twisted the armor and spun as a cannon extended out and fired.
I wouldn’t fail. I couldn’t fail. This was the moment—the one Alexander the Great looked for in each battle—the one that assured victory. If we demolished, or at least, damaged the train, Hendrix and our enemies would be forced to flee. Either way, we’d win.
Rushing ever closer to the last car, fired again and again, the rounds exploding against the iron. Still, no affect. Pulling a lever in the armor, I dropped the cannon and drew the huge thick-bladed sword from the Black Knight’s back. I shoved the steel into the side of the train car, and cut through the iron plating into the legs of the Milli-train, crippling it. Wrenching the sword from the leg, I thrust it back into side of the train and every last bit of power the Black Knight could give me, Pushed forward ripping the blade through the cars at the end of the train. Then, Genevieve’s Bronze Knight tore up the other side. She raised her cannon and fired into the back of the train. Fire shot through the exposed innards of the last several cars.
The demonic Milli-train charged the village, dragging several damaged cars behind it.
Genevieve and I would never reach it in time, but we had to try. I raced after toward the engine trailing smoke from the twin stacks angled down off the Black Knights back.
The Iron Zulu rolled into the path of the train. Owethu stopped dead, set his armor, his shield up, and his spear. Even knowing Owethu couldn’t hear me, I screamed for him to move. It didn’t matter even if he could hear me, he’d never move. . The Iron Zulu thrust its shield forward, anchoring the bottom of the mgobo in the ground and using the shield to catch the front of the train. Straining the joints of his armor, with his steam lines bursting, Owethu caught the front of the train and forced it up. In the same motion, he thrust the giant Iklwa into the boiler. The Milli-train teetered to one side, but the legs prevented the engine from tipping completely over. The Iron Zulu stood stoic in his victory. Like an impenetrable wall.
The Milli-train sputtered and limped into the grasslands spitting fire from its tailpipes and turning the land behind it into an inferno. It circled up in the fields like a wagon train. The metal beast spit cannon shot all along its sides, igniting the ground surrounding the crippled train and wicking up the legs. Finally, I thought, we’ve won. In that instant, however, the pale Horseman of Plague carrying the lady assassin, and Hendrix’s Horseman of War leapt over the Milli-train and charged.
“The pale rider is mine,” Genevieve yelled as she raced forward to meet the lady assassin head on.
“Colonel Hendrix is mine,” I yelled. I barreled toward Hendrix, who cackled from atop his steed.
Owethu and Mr. Singh kept shooting at the cannon sticking out of the side of the train. The fire they drew meant less shells would rain down on the village.
I fired my cannon, but his steed sprung out of the way, while he hurled hundreds of rounds from the dual Gatling guns that pelted my armor. I raised my shield to block the bullets.
Nothing penetrated the Iron Horsemen’s iron hides. Their black, haunting shadows clung to every surface, turning day into night. An inner fire within the steeds and the riders seeped through everything in its path, and the iron steed’s eyes blazed with demonic light. Their snouts spitting smoke and embers. Something was different. The dark, evil nature of the hearts had somehow consumed the steeds and imbued the riders with hellish speed and strength. Terror tore at me. This new heart must be more powerful—a thought I didn’t relish or want to dwell on.
Hendrix reared his steed and slammed the ground with its thundering hooves, tearing up the grassland around me. With only one hand
, Hendrix slashed at me with a regular two-handed sword as if it were nothing. He came at me over and over, but I blocked his assault with my shield and countered with the Black Knight’s immense steel blade. Still, he parried my sword away, and thrust his own at me, attempting to impale my armor. Again and again, I blocked him with my shield.
As he continued to assault me, a hail of gunfire flew all around me. That’s when I saw Zerelda. She’d climbed onto the crippled Milli-train and had trained its guns directly at me. Cannonballs and bullets slammed into my armor, but I couldn’t take my focus off Hendrix. If I did, I’d die. I might anyway, if I didn’t find a way to stop both Hendrix and Zerelda. I pressed my attacks defending myself with sword and shield.
Suddenly, Rodin landed on my visor, frantically scurrying back and forth. He was trying to tell me something. I opened the visor and he climbed in. Immediately, the small dragon pointed his head toward Genevieve. She was locked in combat with the lady assassin. The pale Horseman of Death sent a constant stream of bullets at the Bronze Knight. But Genevieve wasn’t interested in a long-distance fight. She drew the Bronze Knight’s sword and charged.
The lady assassin raised a scythe above her pale steed and swiped at Genevieve. She dodged the first attack, then Genevieve wrapped the Bronze Knight’s arms around the horseman, locking them together. Genevieve opened the visor and climbed out onto the shoulder of her Bronze Knight. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Genevieve drew her saber and pointed it at the rider. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I didn’t need too. The anguish on Genevieve’s face wrenched at my heart.
Genevieve attacked the lady assassin with unrelenting strikes from the back of her machine but the woman drew her rapier and climbed out of the saddle. Still parrying Hendrix’s attacks, and dodging the ongoing attacks from Zerelda, I rolled toward Genevieve. Zerelda began firing at Genevieve. Without any regard for the lady assassin. Although I knew I was exposing my rear flank to Hendrix, a possibly a fatal move on my part, I put myself between Zerelda and Genevieve and used my shield to absorb the rounds fired by the train. Hendrix, turned and headed back toward the train.