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The Forever Man: Clan War

Page 14

by Craig Zerf


  When all had gathered around, Nathaniel would tell them his vision. He would talk about the Fair-Folk and how they were subjugating the human race. He would tell of the laws and the hangings. He would regale them with tales of how humanity was being strangled, how they would never progress under the yoke of the aliens.

  And then he would tell them about the Free State of Scotland. A land where humans could be free and the pig face men and their alien masters were not allowed.

  Then he would magik up a fireball and blast it into the heavens. As it exploded high above them he would shout out, asking for volunteers to join his army.

  Many hands always shot up.

  Because Roo had been correct – theater worked.

  Dewar, Pensfold, Croftgarden and more. Village after town after village. The days became weeks and the weeks became months.

  Nathaniel barely slept.

  All volunteers would follow Nathaniel and The Ten as they visited village after village, and when the marine had one thousand followers he would send them to the Wardrew Woods on the river Irthing. It was here that Roo and a team of younger men with building skills had taken the first volunteers and built a military camp based on a batch of drawings that Nathaniel had drawn up for him. “Camp Infinity”. The old man’s energy seemed to be unflagging and he had become an essential cog in the marine’s burgeoning new machine. His vast intelligence and experience were invaluable.

  Next to the river and close to both Hadrian’s Wall with plentiful Oak for building, it was the perfect spot. Firstly the engineer had taken care of living quarters, rows and rows of dwellings that were a combination of thatch and oiled cloth, latrines, ablution areas and covered eating areas. Then he constructed lunging rings for the horses, paddocks, stables and arenas. Javelin ranges for both spear and woomera and a huge flat parade ground area for drilling and marching.

  He had also erected a range of huge workshops that churned out simple armor converted from the thousands of cars that were still scattered throughout the old road systems. Every man got a breastplate, arm guards and greaves as well as a shield, a hand-and-a-half broadsword, a dagger, a fighting hatchet (similar to a tomahawk), a woomera with arrows and a javelin.

  Men who arrived with a horse went straight into the cavalry where they were issued with similar equipment apart from the sword, which was a curved cavalry saber.

  Any firearms and ammunition were appropriated and locked up in the camp strong room. However, there was not that much. The United Kingdom had never had much of a gun culture and by now, over twenty years on from the pulse, most ammunition had been used up on either hunting or self defense. But, whatever there was became the property of The Forever Man.

  After discussion with Nathaniel, they had created a simple rank and command structure for the army.

  When each thousand men arrived they were told to vote amongst themselves to choose a captain as a group leader and four sergeants to assist him. When this had been done, the thousand would be broken into four groups of two hundred and fifty, one for each sergeant. The sergeants would then choose five corporals to assist each of them. Each corporal would be put in charge of fifty men. The system was quick and simple and it worked well.

  The cavalry worked under the same strictures except the groups were smaller, only two hundred and fifty so, as always happens with mounted units, there was a much higher officer ratio.

  Nathaniel had given each of The Ten, bar Tad, the rank of colonel. Then he had given both Roo and Tad the rank of general. Tad simply shook his head when told and “forgot” to ever put his rank insignia on and Roo had simply told him to ‘bugger off,’ as he didn’t have time for that sort of crap and anyway, he thought that all officers were woofters.

  The Forever Man could not have asked for a better team.

  ***

  Six months. It had been two whole months since the last of Nathaniel’s ten thousand strong army had arrived at Camp Infinity.

  Under Nathaniel’s orders, Roo and a group of ex-architects had spent the last two weeks traveling the length of Hadrian’s Wall, mapping out a repair schedule for it. There was no way that they could restore the entire structure with dressed stone so they had decided on wooden log retaining walls filled with a mortar made of mud, gravel and cow dung. The team had repaired and rebuilt a small section to show Nathaniel and the marine was impressed.

  Now all that remained was to do the same for the entire length of the wall. At the same time they had decided to stick to the original Roman design in having a fort laced every mile, large enough to garrison seventy-five men. Every tenth milefort would be a larger version that would garrison five hundred men so that no minor fort was further than five miles away from major reinforcements. There would also be four full detachments of cavalry, each consisting of two hundred and fifty men, patrolling the wall on the Fair-Folk side, ranging out and scouting to bring back a constant flow of information and intelligence.

  It was during one of the nightly meetings that were held between the three of them, Nathaniel, Roo and the little big man, that Tad brought up the necessity for taxes.

  ‘Look, Nate,’ he said. ‘This is all well and good and, militarily I can’t fault you, but very soon we are going to run out of food. Already we have to range ten miles or more for game and the stocks of food that the men all brought with them are dangerously low.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’ The marine had asked.

  ‘We need to put together teams of mounted tax collectors. Ten men and a couple of wagons would suffice. Maybe ten teams to start with. I’ll hand pick the leaders, men with a bit of sense. They range far and wide and collect food. Nothing too onerous, just a little from everyone so that we can support our standing army.’

  ‘Tad also had another idea,’ interjected Roo. ‘He reckons that they should attempt to collect precious metals. Gold, silver and copper if they can. Not a lot. A ring or two, a necklace, charm bracelet from each household.’

  ‘Why?’ Asked Nathaniel.

  ‘Well, chief,’ continued the old Aussie. ‘The two of us have concocted a grand plan, we’re both still not one hundred percent convinced that it’ll work so, as always, we’ll reveal all when I think that it’s finished and working.’

  ‘Okay,’ agreed The Forever Man, but what if they don’t want to contribute. By my own promises, this is a free area, I can’t force them.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence for a while.

  Eventually Tad spoke.

  ‘Freedom comes with a price,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell the boys that contribution isn’t obligatory but it is…advisable.’

  ‘I don’t like that,’ said Nathaniel.

  ‘Well, you’ll like it a lot less when your army all goes home so that they can get a bite to eat. Wake up, Nate. You’ve been a king before. Where did you think all the revenue came from? The people gotta give and that’s that. Sometimes the only way to be truly free is to voluntarily give up some of that freedom.’

  As it happened Nathaniel had no need to worry. The people gave willingly and, those that genuinely couldn’t were either let off or, in some cases, Nathaniel’s men actually gave them food from out of the tax wagons.

  Gold and silver were a little harder to come by but, after a month of collecting, a surprisingly large amount of bullion was stashed in the camp strong room under lock and key as well as armed guard.

  By now Nathaniel had set thousands of men to rebuilding the wall and it was going along at a rate that far exceeded the speed anything the Romans had achieved so many thousands of years before.

  ***

  It was a clear day. The solar flares pulsed across the heavens, rainbow colors rippling across the skies in scintillating waves. A light breeze snapped and pulled at the black and silver banner of The Forever Man and visibility was clean and sharp.

  Nathaniel saw them coming from over five miles away. Marching in fifteen columns of five. Seventy-five of them. Fifty battle Orcs and twenty-five goblin archers.
/>   On each side of the marine, teams of soldiers worked the dirt. Mixing it with dung and gravel and piling it into the wooden log shutters that formed the rebuilt wall. Behind the Forever Man stood The Ten, on horseback and fully armed.

  Tad rode up next to him.

  ‘Should I rally the men?’ He asked.

  Nathaniel shook his head.

  ‘No. We can deal with this without them.’

  ‘What if they decide to attack?’

  Again the marine shook his head.

  ‘They won’t. There are over five hundred soldiers here. They wouldn’t fancy their chances. I reckon that they’re here to parley.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet my life on that,’ argued Tad. ‘They don’t see us as much competition. You remember how tough the bastards are. It took all that you had to bring one down. There’s fifty of them. And goblins with longbows.’

  Nate smiled. ‘True, but we have The Ten.’

  ‘Yep, and they have the seventy five.’

  Nate patted Tad on the shoulder. ‘Trust me, my friend. They won’t attack and if they do then we shall kill them. No more arguments.’

  Tad nodded in acceptance then rode amongst the men to tell them to continue working. Then he called rest of The Ten up to rank alongside him and The Forever Man.

  They waited for just over an hour and, when the Orc battle group was about a hundred yards away, Nathaniel kicked his horse into a fast walk and The Ten followed him, arrayed in an arrowhead formation, five on each side. They stopped in front of the battle group.

  ‘Greetings,’ said Nathaniel.

  ‘Greeting to you, human,’ answered the Orc. ‘I am sergeant Neb,’ he continued, pointing to the tattoos of rank on his face.

  ‘I am Nathaniel Degeo Arnthor Hogan, Marine sergeant, king of the Picts and leader of the New Free State. I am The Forever Man.’

  The Orc nodded. ‘I have heard of you.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘The wind tells tales of more than the weather,’ said the Orc. ‘And some beings create their own storms. Nevertheless, king that was, I have been sent to enquire as to what you and your men are doing here?’

  ‘We are refurbishing an ancient artifact in remembrance of our ancestors. It’s a cultural thing.’

  Sergeant Neb shook his head. ‘No, you are creating a fortified wall across the entire country. And you are doing this without permission.

  ‘Not true,’ answered Nathaniel. ‘I do have permission.’

  ‘Show me your permit,’ demanded the Orc.

  ‘I don’t need a permit,’ said Nathaniel. ‘But take my word for it. I got permission from the leader of the New Free State and he got permission from the people of the New Free State so – I have all the permission that I need.’

  ‘But you are the leader of the New Free State,’ pointed out the Orc.

  ‘True,’ agreed Nathaniel.

  ‘No,’ the Orc shook his head. ‘You do not have permission from the Fair-Folk nor do you have permission from a worthy human…therefore, you do not have permission.’

  The marine raised an eyebrow. ‘Fine. Okay, you got me. So – stop us.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Stop us,’ repeated Nathaniel.

  Orcs are not capable of human expressions. And even if they were there is no way that sergeant Neb would have felt worry. But he did, somehow, manage to look perturbed.

  ‘Stop what you are doing,’ he commanded.

  ‘Go bite yourself,’ said Nathaniel and eased his horse forward a couple of steps. The Ten followed him.

  In the background the marine heard the sound of hundreds of clicks of wood striking wood and, when he glanced back over his shoulder he saw that his men had disobeyed him and they stood ranked along the wall. Five hundred of them with four-foot, steel-tipped wooden arrows fitted to their woomeras.

  He smiled.

  ‘Time to go,’ he said to the Orc, his voice a low growl. ‘And tell your little gray masters, they are not welcome here. This is The New Free State and it is for humans only.’

  The Orc sergeant turned around and walked away. His battle group wheeled on the spot and followed him.

  Tad let out an audible breath.

  Nate turned to him and laughed.

  ‘Told you they wouldn’t attack.’

  Tad chuckled weakly.

  ‘That you did. But they will be back.’

  The marine nodded his agreement.

  ‘Oh yes, and the next time it won’t be one crappy little battle group. It’ll be the whole outhouse full of them.’

  Chapter 29

  Nathaniel held the tiny piece of gold between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it softly. It felt slightly soapy, so light as to have no discernable weight. Slightly smaller than his thumbnail and as thick as six sheets of paper held together.

  The sunlight drifted through the window and reflected off the buttery surface of the coin. On the one side  and on the reverse “The New Free State”

  ‘How did you do it?’ Asked Nathaniel.

  ‘Simply,’ answered Roo. ‘Melted the gold down, spread it onto a flat iron to harden, then used a hammer, anvil and a die to punch out the coins. That’s how I got the milled sides. Then all the left over gets re-melted and we do over. Same with the silver and the copper. They’re all the same size, so one gold equals ten silver and one hundred copper. Ergo, we got currency.’

  ‘But how will everyone decide what costs what?’ Asked Tad.

  ‘Let the market decide. We start by paying the army in coins. Soldiers get ten coppers a day, however, we only physically pay them five. We charge them one copper per meal, three per day, and two coppers for lodging. We don’t do this to save coppers, we do it so that they have a base against which to rate their pay. Sergeants get fifteen and captains, twenty.’

  ‘Good thinking, Roo,’ encouraged Nathaniel. ‘When can you start?’

  ‘Couple of weeks,’ answered Roo. ‘Got a lot of melting and striking to do.’

  There was a knock on the door.

  ‘Come,’ said Nathaniel.

  A soldier opened the door. ‘Sir,’ he addressed the marine. ‘I think that you better see this.’

  Nathaniel nodded, grabbed his axe and followed the soldier outside, followed by Tad and Roo.

  The soldier pointed.

  Across the plains, their bright colors standing out like artworks against the snow, was a train of gaily painted wagons. But not just a few wagons – they stretched back to the horizon.

  Nathaniel shaded his eyes and stared, counting in his head.

  ‘Must be at least four hundred of them,’ he said.

  ‘And then some,’ added Tad. Then he pointed. ‘Look.’

  A rider had detached himself and was galloping towards them, dark hair flowing back as he rode.

  ‘It’s Papa Dante,’ said Nate. ‘Let him come,’ he shouted to the sentries who had drawn their swords.

  Papa galloped into the camp and down the main street, stopping in front of Nate. He jumped off his horse and threw his arms around the marine.

  ‘Greetings, friend,’ he bellowed, only slightly breathless from his hard ride. ‘I have come, and I have brought reinforcements. Many reinforcements. We have come to join you.’ He went down on one knee. ‘If you will have us, king Degeo.’

  Nathaniel was about to tell Papa to get up but then he realized the seriousness of the walking man’s question. He saw that this was a time for pomp and ceremony. A time to bring back some of the old ways. The Pictish ways.

  He drew his axe and held the blade out to Papa.

  ‘I shall accept you Papa Dante. And we shall accept your people. They shall be lorded and applauded in this, The New Free State. Land shall be given them and they shall be of the free.’

  Papa Dante kissed the axe blade.

  ‘Now rise,’ said the marine. ‘And from hereon you shall be known as Papa Dante, advisor to The Forever Man.’

  Papa stood and beamed, his pride and happiness broadly apparent.


  ‘My king.’

  Nathaniel grasped him by the shoulder.

  ‘My friend.’

  Chapter 30

  For the first time ever, three humans were invited to sit with the Fair-Folk council of twelve.

  Jacob Stone, ranking officer of the horse brigade, in charge of fast messenger services and scouting. A girl from the area called The Farm who went by the name of Milly Human, a surname that she had adopted as she could not remember her actual name. She was there due to her fanatical support and belief in the Fair-Folk and their laws. And, finally, Harry Stand, head of the Society of Worthy Humans, a small quiet man whose physical size belied the magnitude of his ambition.

  The reason that commander Ammon Set-Bat had taken this radical step was due mainly to the fact that the humans had declared a New Free State north of the structure known as Hadrian’s Wall.

  And, only a week or so ago, Orc sergeant Neb had arrived back at the capital with news that the humans were reinforcing the wall and they had formed an army. He was not sure how large the army was, or indeed even if they were actually trained troops as opposed to simple farmers with spears.

  On top of that, sergeant Neb claimed that, when he had approached the human leader and

  told him to desist, the thin skin both ignored and insulted the sergeant. This alone was a capital offence, but the sergeant had claimed to have been outnumbered and, rather than suffer a humiliating defeat, he had returned to the capital to report.

  So the council of twelve, Fair-Folk commanders, mages and merchants – plus the three humans - had met. They had discussed the formation of the New Free State at length and it came to light that Milly Human had actually met the leader of the New Free State, a man called Hogan. Apparently an ex-warrior from the time before human society had regressed. She also had some complicated, and frankly unbelievable, story regarding his apparent age and where he had been for the last twenty years.

 

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