by Paul Kane
A good job, then, that Tanek had been with the first division to make contact. They were working their way through somewhere called Thirsk, in the fading light, when they were suddenly attacked. Tanek saw several scouts fall as they were walking up just ahead of the tanks and jeeps. The soldiers were dragged off the streets by men in crimson robes, and by the time the rest of the division reached them, they were already dead – their throats slit.
Gunfire opened up behind Tanek; men shooting at shadows. They’d gone down as well, killed by men who looked like the walking dead. Tanks and jeeps were useless against them at this close proximity, and they knew it.
There was movement off to the side, and Tanek had aimed and shot his crossbow in seconds. He nodded when he heard a muffled yelp, knowing his bolt had struck home. Then he was aware of a swish on his other side, something sharp cutting the air – about to cut into him. The clank of metal against metal followed and Tanek looked round to see that Bohuslav’s hand scythe had met the machete blow intended for him.
The serial killer would later explain that, should Tanek turn out to be the traitor Bohuslav thought, he wanted the pleasure of killing the giant himself. For now, though, Tanek was grateful Bohuslav had blocked the attack, forcing the cult member back again with a thrust of his own blade. Before the robed figure could do anything else, Tanek had put a crossbow bolt in his head.
Confusion reigned, as their men fired into alleys, at houses, almost at each other. It was exactly what the cult wanted – exactly what guerrilla fighters would do. Tanek tried to get Bohuslav to order a ceasefire, but they were having difficulty making themselves heard. Soldiers were going down one by one. Tanek noted a guy not far away suddenly clutching at his neck as a powerful geyser of wet redness jetted out, a machete blow slicing neatly across his jugular, almost slicing his neck in two. Bullets riddled the robed figures whenever they appeared, but it didn’t seem to deter them. It was as if they weren’t bothered about dying at all. That, if nothing else, made them extremely dangerous adversaries. In spite of himself, Tanek found that he quite admired these people.
Then, as quickly as it had started, the fighting stopped.
Someone had appeared in the street, lit by floodlights from the armoured vehicles behind – like a magician materializing on stage. A man, flanked by two smaller women. The man wore a coat that flapped about in the chill breeze, and the leather of his uniform beneath creaked. He adjusted the peaked cap he was wearing, before standing with his hands behind his back and gazing around. The women held their swords level, protecting the man between them.
Tanek traded glances with Bohuslav, who appeared just as surprised as he was that the Tsar was present.
The time for asking questions would come later. Right now, what interested Tanek was the stillness this man inspired. He had some balls to walk out there in the first place – he appeared to have pulled up in his own private jeep – but what was causing the cult to stay their hand? His own men, Tanek could understand. They would rather shoot themselves than risk hitting their glorious leader with a stray bullet. But why were these strangers holding off? It was quite a thing to witness.
Tanek’s answer came when one robed figure emerged from a side street, and began to walk up the road. Bohuslav nervously shifted from foot to foot, and Tanek was half expecting him to give an order to shoot. But the Tsar was gesturing with his hand that his forces should hold their fire for now.
When the Tsar began talking, it was in Russian. He soon realised his mistake and switched to broken English. “You speak for your people, yes?” The twins were ready to spring on the figure should he put so much as a foot out of place. They needn’t have worried.
“We are Servitor. When one speaks, we all speak.” The robed figure dropped to his knees before he was anywhere near the Tsar. If the Russian was surprised, then he didn’t show it. “My Lord.” The man kept his head bowed, then added: “You are finally here.”
Tanek saw the Tsar’s eyebrows raise just a fraction. “Yes.” Whether he thought the man was simply referring to his title – after all, Tanek had heard the people under the Tsar call him Lord all the time – or he actually knew what the man was referring to was unclear. But the effect was the same. “Now call your men forth.”
The robed figure did as he was told, rising and calling to the other members of his order. There were at least twenty of them, and they came tentatively out of hiding. It was only now that Tanek, and probably Bohuslav too, realised that they could have gone on fighting for hours and not got them all, so skilled were they at concealment.
What the Tsar was proposing was preferable to the conflict. A truce and a joining of forces. “We can... help each other,” the Tsar explained to the spokesman.
“Whatever you say,” he replied. He still wasn’t able to look the Tsar in the face.
Later on, Tanek had the chance to ask the Tsar about all this – and discover why he’d made the trip personally across the sea. (“Like Richard the Lionheart in the Holy Land, I wished to see the ‘conversion’ of this country myself. And bring some additional firepower with me.”) He understood that the man hadn’t quite anticipated that reaction from the cult leader.
“I was never in any danger. Apart from the twins, I had ample soldiers covering me. So I thought I might offer a proposition. I never knew they would mistake me for...”
For Satan? thought Tanek, finishing off what the Tsar couldn’t bring himself to say. In your red uniform, bringing fire and destruction with you? It wasn’t much of a stretch. But it did do them a favour.
It also meant that progress would be even quicker than they had anticipated. Soon they would be at Nottingham, at the castle’s doors in fact. Tanek had persuaded the Tsar that the location was ideal for striking out at the rest of the country. It was what De Falaise once had in mind.
Soon, Hood and all those who followed him would be dead, and Tanek would be back where he belonged.
Perhaps, then, his former leader’s ghost would be able to rest in peace.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ROBERT HAD TALKED to Dale, who in turn had talked to the men, laying the groundwork.
Then, as Jack had suggested, Robert spoke to them all. He’d requested that as many Rangers as could be spared gather in the castle grounds first thing that morning. A transcript would be circulated for those who couldn’t be there, and Jack was even recording it on the battery-powered tape player. Those present who could remember when he’d given the speech the night before the battle for this place felt a certain amount of nostalgia. Tate knew their leader had been reluctant to say anything on that occasion too but, as now, he recognised that it was time to motivate.
Time to lay everything on the line.
He stood in front of the crowd of fighters, and it was obvious that looking over the swell of heads made him uncomfortable. They could see it was having another effect on him, too. The way his chest was puffing up, his eyes glassy; it could only be pride he was feeling when he looked at his loyal brigade. It made some of them, those who’d been complaining about how much work they were doing, feel more than a little ashamed.
Robert was casting his eyes down the rows, looking for someone. All those closest to him were there: Jack, Mark, Tate. All except Mary.
He began anyway, his voice cracking as he said his first few words: “Th-thank you all for listening to me today, I do appreciate it. In fact, and I don’t say this as often as I should, I appreciate everything you do, and have done, not only for this... well, I suppose this peacekeeping force... but also for the people of this area and beyond. Many of you probably know already that I didn’t want this command, and don’t even really see myself as your chief – or whatever you want to call it. Everyone’s equal here, everyone’s got something unique to offer. Some of us may be more inexperienced than others.” Robert made a point of looking at Mark when he said this. “Some of us want to make an impression.” Now he found Dale out in the audience. “But that’s fine. As someone once said
to me: we’re a family. And I like to sort out any problems within that family.
“Now, I know that you’re tired, that some of you are doing the jobs of three or four people. A consequence of this new world we’ve found ourselves in, sadly, is that it takes time to build something. To find the people we need or for them to find us. And, believe it or not, we are building something truly special here. Something that’s already being talked about throughout the country, and maybe even further afield. We’re keeping ordinary folk safe from the likes of the Morningstars, from thugs and murderers and rapists. I don’t know about you, but I’m quite proud of that.”
There was a rumble of agreement from the crowd.
“The problem with gaining a reputation,” Robert continued, catching Adele’s eyes briefly where she stood not far from Jack, “is that from time to time people are going to come and challenge us. People like the Frenchman we took this castle from; people who would destroy our homes, kill our loved ones. I’m standing up here today to tell those of you who don’t already know – because I realise the rumour mill must be going into overdrive – that there’s one such mobilisation heading our way. They landed about a week ago on the coast, and I’m not going to sugar coat this for you: we have it on good authority that they’re well armed and in great numbers.”
The rumbles turned into mumbles of shock and fear, as the troops turned to one another – some nodding in confirmation of what they’d already suspected, some hearing it for the first time.
“They will reach us sooner or later, and countless innocents will die – are already dying, as they make their way to Nottingham. The question is, do we meet them head on, attempt to stop them before they can slaughter anyone else, and before they reach the places and people we care about?” Robert paused to take in not only the faces of the crowd, but also the people who’d brought him out of Sherwood in the first place. As he did so, he saw Mary standing right at the very back. Their eyes met and from that moment on he was really only talking to her. “Do we do the right thing? Or hope that someone, somewhere will do it for us? Personally, I believe we are the only ones who stand a chance of stopping them, of kicking them back to where they came from and making sure they never try anything like it again.” He nodded. “Yes, I know how thinly stretched we are – mainly due to the threat the Morningstars have become. But if we wait, this could escalate further.”
“The best defence is a good offence,” Jack called out from the crowd. “That’s what they always say back where I come from.”
There were more murmurs from the crowd. Nobody wanted to face an enemy of this kind, but if they hid away behind the castle walls, then they would have to at some point anyway. Was it better to pre-empt them?
“None of you are here because you have to be,” Robert said, once the crowd had quietened a little. “My way is not the way it was with the Frenchman, as some of you who served under him have discovered over the time you’ve been with me. I said this once before, but I’ve made my decision and I have to stick by it. I’m riding out to meet the convoy. How many of you choose to join me on this mission, I’m leaving in your hands. I’ve said this before, too. It’ll be dangerous, and there are no guarantees that anyone will be coming back.” Robert could see the tears welling in Mary’s eyes, and his began to mist up in response. “So I wouldn’t blame anyone for not coming. In fact some of you I want to stay behind to defend the castle, just in case we fail. But if you really wanted to leave us altogether, the door – well, gate – is over there.”
For a good few moments there was silence. No mutterings from the crowd at all, as they made up their minds what to do. Divided between their loyalty to a man who’d given them refuge, given them a home, and their terror at facing what was to come.
It was Dale who broke this silence. “I’m with you, Robert. Where you go, I’ll be there.” Azhar, at his side, put a hand across his chest and bowed. Then Dale turned and looked at the other fighters, in the hopes of shaming them into saying something. It seemed to work: they began to nod their heads, and a buzz of positive noises filtered through. That buzz became a wave, which washed over the heads of those present. It wasn’t long before some of the Rangers were holding up their swords and waving them in the air. Some might change their minds later, or opt to stay at the castle, but for now it seemed like the majority of Robert’s men were on his side.
He thanked them and stood down, relief etched on his face – because he had the support he needed, or because he’d finished speaking in public.
Whatever the case, Robert knew that the hard work was only just beginning. If they were to halt the progress of this new army, they had to leave soon. And he had more than a few loose ends to tie up first.
He scanned the crowd for Mary as it broke up, but she’d vanished again. Before he could go and look for her, he was being pulled in several different directions at once. Being asked a million questions about the mission.
THOUGH THEY WEREN’T too happy about it, Robert insisted that Jack and Mark stay behind at the castle. “I need someone I can leave in charge here,” Robert told Jack. “Someone I can trust.” The fact that he’d seen them both dead in his dream also had something to do with it.
“I should be out there with you, Robbie,” Jack complained, but when Robert asked again, with a firm ‘please,’ the larger man relented.
Mark was more of a hard sell. “You’re still not ready for that kind of combat,” Robert pointed out, which wasn’t the smartest thing to say.
“But you’re taking Dale?”
“Yes.”
“Because ‘where you go, he goes’?” said Mark.
“Because I want you to stay and look after Mary and Sophie.”
“Mary can look after herself. You know that.”
That was true. “And Sophie?”
Mark thought about this for a moment. “I think she’d prefer to have Dale looking after her.”
“You might be surprised.” Robert looked him directly in the eye. “If anything happens to me, and the troops break in here, get Sophie and Mary out. Do you understand? You’ll know where to go. That’s the most important thing you can do, son.” He gave Mark a tight hug, and when he pulled away again he could see the boy was fighting back tears.
Robert asked the same of Reverend Tate when he spoke to him: help to keep Mary, Sophie and Mark safe. “And Gwen and the little one,” Tate added. He’d sent word to the woman at New Hope, letting her know about the army that was heading towards them, promising supplies if she would come to the castle to collect them. Word had it she was on her way with Clive Jr, and when she got to the castle Robert knew Tate was going to try and get her to remain there until the danger had passed.
“She won’t stay, you know,” Robert told him. “She’ll want to be with her people. I have to say I can understand that.”
Tate agreed. “All I can do is try.”
“You do know I can’t let her have any weapons?”
“I wasn’t specific about what the supplies were.”
“But that’s what you’ve let her think.”
The Reverend heaved a weary sigh. “You do what you must, and I’ll do likewise. You know, I wouldn’t normally be the one to say this, but are you sure you shouldn’t take some of those things along yourself when you meet this army of yours?”
Robert tutted. “You’re advocating the use of firearms now, Reverend? You sound like Bill.”
“They were used in the battle for the castle,” Tate reminded him.
“We’ll do okay without them. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me, to have faith?”
“There’s a difference between that and suicide.”
“We’ll be armed. Just not in the way they’ll be expecting. The men have been trained well, and we’ll have a few surprises for our friends.”
Tate gave a tip of the head, then said finally: “Remember the story of David and Goliath, Robert.”
That just left Mary.
Robert tried t
o find her, but he knew that if he chose a quiet spot, she would eventually come to him... if she wanted to talk. He went down to the stables, to feed his horse. They’d been through quite a bit together, and he’d be asking quite a bit more of the animal in the days to come.
When he heard the footsteps behind him, he turned and saw Adele, and couldn’t hide the disappointment on his face.
“You were expecting her, weren’t you?” said the woman. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
Adele came a little closer. “It’s just that, well, I figured I might never see you again. And I didn’t want you to go before... That is, I really need to tell you something, Robert.”
He pressed his face up against his horse, closing his eyes. “Adele, look –”
“No, let me finish. Please.”
He heard the woman come closer, now only a couple of feet away from him. When he opened his eyes he saw a figure just over her shoulder, cheeks red from the cold, hair tied back; Mary. He was frightened that she would run off again, get the wrong impression. Instead, she coughed politely, causing Adele to start.
“Jack’s looking for you,” Mary said when she turned around.
“But I was just... I needed to talk to Robert for a moment,” she said, turning to him for support.
“You should go and find Jack,” Robert advised her.
Adele looked like she was going to say something, but gave an almost imperceptible nod and left the stables. Mary watched her go, a mixture of concern and resentment in her expression. Then she focused on Robert.
“I...” he began, but realised he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t really need to. Mary walked over, quickening her pace as she came. Then their arms were open, and they held each other; grabbing on as if they felt they might just float away if they weren’t anchored down. Robert thought about making a nervous joke, something along the lines of: ‘You’re not going to drug me this time, are you?’ but thought better of it.