Arrowland

by Paul Kane

Tanek was on his feet once more. "I'm going to kill you!" he shouted, rushing towards Robert.

  "You and whose army? Oh, that's right - you tried that twice already."

  It had the desired effect of aggravating Tanek, making his next move clumsy, easier to avoid. Robert rolled under the punch his opponent threw, barging into Tanek sideways and almost pitching him over; the giant's momentum nearly doing the rest. It was the only way he'd be able to keep avoiding Tanek, but he couldn't keep this exertion up for long. Already the giant was lunging back round again, delivering a kick that practically flipped Robert over in mid-air. He landed on his front, winded for the second time in as many minutes.

  The crowd was cheering with delight, and Robert felt Tanek standing over him, about to deliver a killing blow. Though it took just about all the strength he could muster, Robert shuffled backwards and just out of reach as Tanek's fist came down. Instead of grinding Robert's head into the dirt, the giant punched the floor and growled with pain. Robert scrabbled back further away from the man he'd just angered even more.

  Tanek was about to leap on him again when a sharp banging from above interrupted. It reminded Robert of those old courtroom dramas when the judge would strike the bench with his gavel.

  "Enough!" came a voice. Robert recognised the accent, and sadly recognised the voice, too. He looked up for the source of this command, spotting a ledge with a railing. Part of what had once been an overhanging office, stripped bare to provide a viewing platform.

  It was then that Robert matched the voice to the face, and the face to the name. "Bohuslav. This day's getting better and better." Standing there was the new Tsar of Russia, crowned after Robert had killed his former master. Bohuslav was dressed in what looked like a red velvet uniform with yellow piping - replacing the previous Tsar's leather - and a cape flowing behind. In place of the hand that Dale had taken from him was Bohuslav's favourite weapon, the sickle, but he was also holding a heavy metal hammer with which he'd struck the edge of the rail. All in all, he looked like a living embodiment of the Russian flag.

  Robert glanced over at the man who'd been about to kill him and saw that Tanek was equally surprised to see their captor.

  "Do not kill each other so quickly. I have gone to great pains to arrange this. I want to savour it," Bohuslav said with a wide grin.

  Great pains, thought Robert. Ah, now I understand. He could see the Native American on that viewing platform as well. He was looking on with interest, arms folded. A satisfied Bohuslav turned to one side now, though, nodding to one of his personal guards, who gave the man in black a bag. His payment for services rendered. Robert wondered what was inside; thirty pieces of silver would get you nowhere nowadays. Had to be something else, something-

  "I will kill you!" This was Tanek, now addressing Bohuslav, who turned back to face them.

  "Not before you've killed Hood, surely? You just said that is what you intend." His broken English was exactly how Robert remembered it. The last time he'd clapped eyes on this nutter it had been when his Rangers had defeated the Tsar's not inconsiderable forces, led by Bohuslav. He'd taken advantage of Robert's weakened state and if it hadn't been for Dale coming to the rescue... Robert had assumed the man had been killed by the wounds that lad inflicted, but obviously not. And the new Tsar wanted revenge, not so much on the person who'd mutilated him, but on the man responsible for the Rangers in the first place. The man who'd also killed his lord and master.

  When Tanek said nothing, Bohuslav laughed. "So, kill him, and we will talk about what happens after that. On the other hand, Hood might kill you. He has just as much of an axe to grind." The new Tsar nodded to a guard below, who tossed a weapon into the area of combat: a large, double-edged axe. "If I remember rightly you, Tanek, favoured the pollaxe the last time you were here. Yes, Hood, Tanek has an advantage over you. He has fought in this place once before." And with that, a staff with a lethal-looking voulge on the end - or pole cleaver as they were sometimes known - landed near Tanek's feet. He looked down at it, then up again at Bohuslav.

  The Tsar banged his hammer on the rail again, before tucking it into his belt. "Go on, pick up your weapons. If you do not, then your opponent might gain the advantage."

  It was a ploy to get them to fight. Robert was about to say something to Tanek when the bigger man grabbed his pollaxe and tested its weight.

  Okay... thought Robert, snatching up his axe, a ploy that obviously worked. A large net and a round shield were also thrown into the ring, but they were for whoever picked them up first.

  Tanek made it to the shield, so Robert had to settle for the net, winding the thick rope around his hand and wrist. Just in time, because Tanek made a swift lunge with the pollaxe, which Robert snagged in the netting, attempting to swing the larger man round. Tanek held his ground, however, raising the weapon and almost taking the netting with it. Robert held on, feeling himself being lifted along with the mesh. But he used this to his advantage, swinging forward on it and bringing his axe around in an arc to try and hit Tanek. The giant was forced to lower the axe, and in doing so both of them wound up on the floor.

  "Tanek," said Robert, catching his breath. "Tanek, listen to me. He's playing us both off against-"

  The big man was up and swinging the axe at him again. Robert sighed, ducked, then rose to block the next swing. The wood of both his own handle and the axe handle juddered with the strain, but Tanek was just too strong when it came down to it. Robert had to defect the blow sideways or risk being struck full in the face by the business end, which would have cleaved his skull in two.

  "Tanek, dammit, listen to me! You know he'll kill whoever's left when-" Robert had to step sideways to dodge yet another attack, but this time he clambered onto Tanek's back, kicking as he used it as a springboard. The larger man lost his footing and ended up on the ground, while Robert landed awkwardly and turned. "He'll just kill whoever wins," Robert finished.

  "He will not get the chance," Tanek said, sneering. Then he righted himself and came at Robert once again. He lunged with the axe, but then twisted and brought round his shield, using that as a weapon instead. Robert barely had time to lean back, but he managed it, falling over in an effort to prevent the edge of the shield connecting with his windpipe. It would have either slashed his throat open, or at the very least cut off his oxygen supply.

  Damn and blast, that Tanek's stubborn, thought Robert. "Unless we work together, it'll-" Robert rolled to the right, missing another stroke with the axe. He couldn't believe this; it wouldn't be his first choice to try and work with one of his greatest enemies either, but Tanek was too obsessed by the idea of killing him and Bohuslav to see clearly. To see how they could win. There was only one way Robert could convince him, that he could see.

  That was to beat him.

  Robert hunkered down, trying to ignore how his body was protesting and waiting for the next strike from Tanek. When it came, he rather clumsily swung his weapon - but hit the wood of the handle nonetheless and splintered it. Then he cast the net, but instead of tangling up Tanek's weapon, he laid it on the ground, so that Tanek would step into it, the force of his momentum ensuring he could do little else. Then, Robert put the end of the net he was holding over his good shoulder and tugged as hard as he could. Tanek wobbled, but didn't fall - so much for that plan - so instead Robert ran around the big man, tangling him up. Tanek's struggles to free himself pulled the section he was standing on out from under him. It was then a case of batting the axe out of Tanek's grasp as it poked up through the net. This left Tanek with just a shield that was bound up with him and couldn't be shifted.

  Robert saw there was a newfound respect for his fighting abilities in Tanek's eyes. With shaky hands lifted his weapon aloft, blocking out the cheers of the crowd. "The only way we're going to do this is together," Robert said, close enough that only they could hear. "Remember that."

  He brought the axe down, but veered off at the final moment, cutting through the netting to free Tanek. As far as the on
lookers - and indeed Bohuslav himself - were concerned it simply looked like he'd missed, but what he'd done was not lost on the olive-skinned giant. Again, Robert could see in his eyes that an understanding had finally been reached.

  Which was why he was surprised when the big man got up, leaving his shield on the floor and grabbing the pollaxe, lashing out again with it seconds later. Robert blocked him with his own axe, but this time he could feel there was no real tension. Tanek grunted, as they drew closer together in a struggle with the weapons. "I will settle with you later," he promised Robert, then suddenly turned his back, and thrust his axe into the nearest guard.

  Robert himself jabbed the blunt end of his axe into another guard's stomach, bringing it up and knocking the man backwards, taking him down without serious injury. He refused to do as Tanek had and just kill the armed men surrounding them. That was the difference between them, and always would be.

  There was gunfire as the remaining guards attempted to get the 'gladiators' to move back into position. To fight each other again, not them. Robert ducked and rolled, lashing out with the handle of the axe to knock a rifle out of a guard's hand. Then he whacked another over the head with the flat of the metal. Twirling, he saw a gunman draw a bead on him and fire, so he raised the axe, holding his breath as the bullets pinged off the metal. "No, you idiots!" Bohuslav screamed from above. "I want them alive. If they will not kill each other, then I will have the satisfaction of ending both their lives!" He ordered one of his personal troopers to gun down the pit guard who'd fired on Robert. At least that would work in their favour, thought Robert; the others wouldn't dare shoot to kill now.

  More gunfire, this time from behind. Tanek with the first guard's rifle, spraying bullets into the air, sending the crowd into a panic. It provided necessary cover, but then he shot at more guards on the lower level; bullets hitting chests, heads and stomach.

  "No! Wound them, Tanek. Just-"

  Another blast told Robert the giant wouldn't listen. Life meant very little to Tanek and it was too late to try and change him. For a second Robert wondered what would happen if it came down to him and the giant? If he couldn't take him alive? Would he himself do as he'd done to De Falaise, to the Tsar? Kill to rid the world of another monster? And wasn't there more than a hint of good old-fashioned revenge, as well? Didn't he want retribution for all the things Tanek had done to them. To Mark and Jack in particular?

  Another smattering of machine-gun fire, now targeted at the viewing platform. Robert looked up to see the Native American withdrawing; obviously thought this wasn't his fight. But Robert needed something from him; wanted back what the man had taken.

  He looked around and saw Tanek's discarded shield on the ground. He slipped it along one arm until it covered his shoulder, then made a play for the platform, ducking beneath the cordon. Robert pushed through both the guards and the crowd.

  "Hood!" roared Tanek. "Leave him!"

  Robert cast the axe aside and began to climb towards the ledge. It was a struggle, his muscles and shoulder on fire, but he had to get up there and follow the man in black. It was more important right now than anything else, even getting his hands on Bohuslav.

  Bohuslav's guards were now leaning over the rail, firing at Robert. He pulled his arm across, letting the bullets bounce off the shield. They sparked around him and he wondered how much more the metal could take. In the lull of changing magazines, he urged himself upwards. The threat of being shot at again was a distinct incentive.

  Just as one guard was about to open fire, Robert put on a final spurt and grabbed the barrel of his rifle, pulling him over the ledge. Another man turned and aimed at Robert's head, but was slashed across the back of the neck by Bohuslav. The fact that he wanted to kill his captive personally was still warping the Tsar's judgement, and for that Robert was grateful.

  "Hood!" he heard Tanek shout up again, and risked a look over his shoulder. He saw the giant making his way through the panicking throng.

  Robert pulled the shield down to his forearm and struck an oncoming guard full in the face, sending him crashing onto his back. There were now only a couple left - and Bohuslav. Robert bent when one of the remaining guards attempted to restrain him, lifting the man and pitching him over onto the ground before kicking him across the face. The final one he dispatched by bringing up the shield again and catching him under the chin.

  There was a swishing sound and Robert leaned to his right as Bohuslav's sickle came down. He had to duck, because the blade slashed sideways to try and catch him across the face. "I was intending to savour this, but I should just get it over with," Bohuslav told him. "Now, where did we leave things last time? Ah yes, I was about to end your life." The mad Russian lashed out again and Robert brought up the shield to block him. He had no intentions of letting it get to that stage this time.

  "Hood! He's mine!" came Tanek's distinctive rumble from beneath them. It said a lot for what Tanek thought of Bohuslav's chances against him.

  Robert brought up the shield again, deflecting another blow. "You can have him," Robert answered, then pushed forward, taking Bohuslav to the very edge of the rail.

  "No... Wait..." said Bohuslav, but Robert shoved again; harder this time, tipping the man over.

  Bohuslav managed to grab one of the bars, his cape flowing behind him. Robert placed his boot on Bohuslav's fingers. "You two deserve each other," he told the man, then removed his foot. "Happy landings!"

  Leaving Bohuslav to fall, Robert, headed off through the doorway of what had once been the office, in search of the Native American.

  It led out into a corridor and, if the open area of the fighting pit hadn't been enough of a clue, Robert now realised he was in some kind of abandoned warehouse. Checking doors left and right, holding the shield up in case there were more guards with guns inside, he ventured up the corridor, following the trail of the man who'd brought him here. The man in black had a head start, that was true, but Robert had to hope he'd just carried on in a straight line, since his tracking abilities were all over the place at the moment. For all the Native American knew, Robert was still downstairs occupied, so with a bit of luck he hadn't tried to hide his trail too much.

  And suddenly there he was: up ahead, a shadow amongst the shadows. Like the professional he was, the Native American felt Robert behind him, casting a quick glance over his shoulder, then focusing on the route ahead. There was a bend coming up, which the Native American negotiated quickly.

  Damn, I'm going to lose him, thought Robert, speeding up.

  When he rounded the corner, he found the man in black had waited. The first blow struck Robert across the chin; a warning. "Do not follow me."

  "Like Hell. You have something that belongs to me."

  The man grimaced, then came at Robert again; this time with a knife suddenly in hand, slashing furiously. Robert could do nothing but use the shield to fend off the attack. The blows were raining down so hard, though, they knocked the battered metal from his arm. "My quarrel is not with you," the kidnapper told him.

  "You should have thought of that before," Robert replied, grabbing the Native American's arm, bringing it down on his knee and forcing the weapon out of the man's grasp.

  The response was a fighting move Robert hadn't come across before; sort of a cross between wrestling and kung fu. It took Robert's legs out from under him, coupling that with a swift elbow to the stomach. "I will not say this again. Do not follow me."

  Robert was getting ready to rise again, so the man in black gave him a kick to keep him down.

  "Hey, you," Robert heard a voice. "I think we've got unfinished business." A fist slammed into the Native American's face; hard. It knocked him back against the corridor's wall. Robert couldn't see who'd delivered it at first, but then a hooded figure stepped out, following up his first move with a roundhouse kick. "I owe you this!"

  The figure pulled down his cowl and it was Mark, his son, last seen tied to a tree, his head covered in dried blood. Robert didn't questio
n this. Instead, he got up, and while the man in black was still disoriented, Robert snatched his bag he'd been carrying - the one the Tsar's guards had given him. Mark had his bow and arrow out already and was covering the Native American at close range, the tip of the arrow pointing directly at the man's head. "So much as a twitch," warned Mark, jabbing the weapon even closer. "Go on, try me."

  Robert smiled; the boy had come on in leaps and bounds since his training began and, despite the circumstances they were in, he was proud. "Now, let's see what this was all about." Robert opened the bag and looked inside. He looked up, puzzled. Then he took out the single object inside: a stone.

  "This is what you sold us out for?"

  "I don't expect you to understand. You do not even understand your own heritage."

  "I understand enough. What did you do, out there in the forest? How do we put things back to... to normal?"

  It seemed a strange thing to say and Mark glanced at him, but they both knew what he meant. It wasn't exactly normal to dream about things that were going to happen, to have a connection with nature that gave you strength and staying power, but it was their normal. If Robert himself had been a superhero, then this man had found his weakness. He looked again at the stone he was holding. "Is this it? Is this the way to put things right again? Destroy this?" Robert made as if to drop it on the floor.

  "No!" shouted the Native American, holding out his hand. Mark drew back his bow even further. "No... please don't do that."

  That got his attention anyway, thought Robert. "Okay, so tell us, or I really will break your precious stone."

  Shadow sighed, slumping back against the wall. He reached down to his belt and Mark readied the bow and arrow. Shadow held up one hand to show that he was only reaching for another small pouch.

  "Easy, mate. Nice and slow. We've both seen what you keep inside those things. I don't fancy another nap."

  "You asked for the way. This is it," explained the man. He threw the pouch to Robert, who looked inside.