The Forever Man: Betrayal

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The Forever Man: Betrayal Page 16

by Craig Zerf


  ‘I shall now do the same with every squad that we have,’ he told Thomas. ‘So, by the end of today, when the rubber head scouts see us coming they will not see three hundred groups of fifty warriors – they shall see six hundred thousand warriors stretched from coast to coast and advancing upon them ready to do war. The mere sound of their marching feet will be enough to drive the blade of fear into any man’s heart, let alone the cowardly hearts of the Fair-Folk leaders. We shall drive them before us like chaff before the wind, forcing them to retreat to the perceived safety of the head quarters in London and, once they are there, they shall feel the full might of The Forever Man.’

  Tad led the squad in their battle cry. ‘Hoo-ah! Hoo-ah! Hoo-ah!’

  Nathaniel pulled in the power and cast himself into the stream, moving onwards to the next squad of human warriors.

  Chapter 42

  For the first time in his long life commander Ammon was at a total loss.

  ‘That is impossible,’ he said to Seth, the chief mage.

  ‘Impossible or not,’ answered Seth. ‘It is happening.’

  ‘But where did they all come from?’ Asked Ammon. ‘We know, for a fact, that there are less than twenty thousand human warriors.’

  ‘It appears that our facts have been incorrect,’ said Seth.

  Ammon shook his head. ‘Show me,’ he commanded.

  Seth nodded, stepped forward and put his hands on either side of his commander’s head.

  The images sprang into Ammon’s mind allowing him to see and hear the advancing force as if he was one of the scouts that were looking at it that very moment.

  Stretched across the land from left to right, as far as one could see, marched a host of human warriors the like of which Ammon had never seen before.

  The air was filled with the rolling thunder of their footsteps and the ground shook under their feet in cadence to the hundreds of thousands of marching feet. The sun reflected off the blades of countless spears and above them flew thousands of Vandal fighters.

  Ammon’s heart hammered in his chest like a caged animal as the enormity of the advancing enemy almost overwhelmed him.

  ‘Show Milly,’ he commanded Seth. ‘I would like her input on this.’

  The mage approached the human Milly and he clasped her head, showing her the image of the advancing human host.

  Milly went pale as the vista was revealed to her. ‘There must be millions of them,’ she gasped.

  ‘Approximately six to seven hundred thousand,’ corrected Seth.

  ‘But our army still outnumbers them,’ pointed out Milly.

  ‘Numerically, yes,’ admitted Ammon. ‘But the humans are exemplary warriors. Particularly when The Forever Man is in charge.’

  ‘But Nathaniel is dead,’ said Milly. ‘He hasn’t been seen for over a decade. You killed him at the wall after the last battle with the Annihilators.’

  ‘True,’ admitted Ammon. ‘But the dwarf is also a very adequate tactician.’

  ‘But where did they all come from?’ Questioned Milly. ‘There is something not right here. They couldn’t have come from across the sea, there are only a small amount of humans in Ireland and they tend to keep themselves to themselves. We would have noticed any vast fleets of ice ships coming over from the old Europe. And anyway,’ she continued. ‘No sign of other humans have been detected since the pulse.’

  ‘I have a theory,’ said Seth.

  ‘Go on,’ prompted Ammon.

  ‘What if they are not humans?’

  ‘Well, they patently are,’ quipped Milly. ‘We have all seen them.’

  ‘Bear with me,’ said Seth. ‘I am not saying that they are not humanoid. They definitely look like humans. What I am saying is, it might be possible that they have arrived here in the same way that we did, or the Annihilators or the Vandals. They may look like humans but be alien to this planet. Now, if that is true it is quite possible that, taking their obvious similarities into account, they have bonded with the humans and have entered into some sort of alliance.’

  No one spoke for a while as they digested Seth’s theory.

  ‘That seems logical,’ admitted Ammon when he finally spoke.

  Milly nodded. ‘It’s the only explanation that makes any sense.’

  ‘So what do we do?’ Asked Seth of his commander.

  Ammon thought for a while and then he asked. ‘How many days until they reach us here in London?’

  ‘I would say, three,’ guessed Seth. ‘At their current pace.’

  ‘Well, firstly, if we decide to work on the assumption that your theory is correct, then we need to find out if these newcomer human-lookalikes are the same redoubtable warriors that the Earth humans are. If they are, then we shall need to pull back and concentrate all of our strength here, defending London. If, however, they are less formidable than their Earthly peers, we shall revisit the scenario. Agreed?’

  Both Seth and Milly nodded their agreement.

  ‘So,’ continued Ammon. ‘If memory serves me correctly, we have a sizable garrison based in Kettering. Roughly thirty thousand Orcs and ten thousand Goblins. May even be a few trolls. Get word to them, Seth. Tell them to take to the field to attack the enemy line. No retreat. No surrender. We shall gauge the enemy’s strength on the outcome of that skirmish and then set the rest of our plans accordingly. How close are the humans to Kettering?’

  ‘They are almost there, commander,’ answered Seth. ‘A mere few miles away at most.’

  ‘Good,’ said Ammon. ‘Send word to them immediately. They must attack at once.’

  Chapter 43

  Exhaustion. There are other words to describe it. Words like weariness, fatigue and tiredness are but a few. None, however, came anywhere close to describing how The Forever Man felt.

  He had been channeling enough life light energy through himself to maintain six hundred thousand simulacrums, giving them body and weight enough to convince the Fair-Folk that they were facing a real flesh and bones army.

  He had also had to keep a watch over the entire marching front, ready to react to anything that the Fair-Folk might throw at them. This meant that he had not slept nor eaten for three whole days and nights. And he had not even started on the difficult parts of the exercise yet. That would come later.

  Nathaniel scanned through the groups, using the power to skip from one to the next, viewing their situation in a second or two and then moving on.

  When he got to the group advancing on Kettering he stopped and materialized himself next to the leader of the squad. A young woman by the name of Luci.

  She flinched in surprise as he appeared but quickly gathered herself.

  ‘My king,’ she greeted. ‘We are honored.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ said Nathaniel. ‘I’m only here because you are about to be attacked. There is a force of Orcs and goblins over that hill.’ The marine pointed. ‘They are coming this way. Plenty of them. Thirty thousand or so.’

  Luci went pale but, to her credit, she did not panic. ‘I assume that the simulacrums can’t fight, sire?’

  Nathaniel shook his head.

  ‘Oh well,’ she continued. ‘We shall do our best.’

  ‘Don’t sweat it, Luci,’ said Nathaniel. ‘I’m not here to ask you to fight to your death. I’m here to make the enemy fight to his death. But I thank you for your loyalty.’ He smiled. ‘You are a brave lady.’

  Luci looked pleased but still worried. ‘I am sorry, sire,’ she said. ‘But I am not sure that I understand.’

  ‘Tell your men to stand back, Luci,’ commanded Nathaniel. ‘When the Orc army comes over the hill I am going to unleash hell. The rubber head commanders are obviously testing us and I want to ensure that they are well convinced that they face a devastatingly superior force, so a lot is going to ride on this, I only hope that I can do it.’

  ‘We have faith in you, sire,’ said Luci.

  Nathaniel winked at her. ‘Thanks.’ He walked forward, placing himself a little in front of the line of
human warriors and simulacrums. Then he waited.

  The Orcs and goblins came over the hill at a fast jog, shields interlocked and spears held upright.

  In typical Fair-Folk military style there was no discernable plan. No flanking maneuvers, no reserves – simply a head on charge by Orc warriors that were designed and bred for exactly such warfare.

  The Forever Man closed his eyes as he concentrated. What he was about to do was the physical equivalent of doing mental calculus whilst reciting pi out loud and writing a poem down at the same time.

  He had to maintain the presence of the simulacrums across the country, he had to keep an awareness of what was happening all along the advancing human line and, finally, he had to repel an advance of thirty thousand plus troops single handedly. And all without having slept for three days and nights.

  ‘Child’s play,’ he whispered to himself as he started to draw in power.

  First he drew in blue, indigo and violet. Then he built it, laying it out in front of him like an azure highway. Finally he drew in the hidden dark light, zylac. The cold light of death. He wove them together. Then he cast his consciousness wide, looking for moisture. Water in snow, in the air, in the trees.

  The Orc army came closer and closer, the ground shuddering under their feet as they picked up their pace.

  All about Nathaniel a subtle fog rose into the air, climbing above the area like a low lying cloud.

  The Orc army roared its battle cry and broke into a sprint. ‘Kamateh!’

  Steam poured off The Forever Man as the energy that he was using raised his body temperature to almost boiling point. Waves of pain cashed over him, surging and grinding as his body died and was reborn second by second.

  The Orc army was now close enough to smell. The oiled armor, the leather, the sweat.

  And The Forever Man opened his arms wide and roared out his command.

  ‘Ice.’

  Immediately the low cloud coalesced into hundreds of thousands of baseball sized chunks of solid, blue-white ice.

  The charging Orcs leveled their spears in one well rehearsed movement. ‘Kamateh!’

  And The Forever Man brought his hand together in front of him. ‘Now!’

  The ice rocks in the sky above them unleashed themselves in a storm of unbelievable ferocity, smashing down into the ranks of the charging Orc and goblins like shrapnel from a thousand, thousand grenades.

  The wounds that they caused were horrific. Sharp shards sliced through leather armor and flesh, laying it open to the bone. Whole chunks smashed bones and skulls, driving the enemy to its knees.

  Wave after wave of ice missiles were sent streaking into the enemy ranks, killing and maiming until the ground was over a foot deep in blood red hail and dismembered limbs and bodies, both dead and almost dead.

  And still The Forever Man did not stop. In fact he redoubled his efforts and the storm of ice swept through the ranks at an ever increasing rate, the missiles escalating until the sound of ice striking flesh was a constant drum roll of death and destruction.

  The human warriors turned their heads away and Luci started to weep openly at the vista of absolute horror that was unfolding in front of her. For, although all knew that the Orcs and goblins were the enemy and that their destruction was necessary, the onlookers were human, and to be human is to feel emotion.

  The devastation continued for almost an hour. Until every living being on the field had been utterly destroyed, beaten and broken and slashed to death and then buried under a deluge of ice.

  Nathaniel had fallen to his knees. His breath rasped in and out like an old bellows. His chest heaving as he desperately tried to take in enough oxygen to keep upright. A tsunami of pain crashed through his body, almost dispossessing him of his senses.

  Luci knelt down next to Nathaniel. She put her arm around his shoulders to comfort him but immediately pulled back as the heat coming off him scorched her clothes and blistered her skin.

  ‘Water,’ gasped The Forever Man.

  She handed him her open canteen and he upended it over his head. Clouds of steam boiled off him. By the time he had poured all of the water out of the container the steam had stopped.

  With unsteady legs he climbed to his feet, stood and took in a few deep breaths. ‘Keep advancing, Luci,’ he told the squad commander. ‘I need to tell Tad and Kob what has happened. Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping an eye on you. On all of you.’

  Luci saluted as The Forever Man shimmered in front of her and then disappeared.

  He coalesced next to Tad and Kob a few seconds later.

  The Little Big Man jumped sideways, Kob didn’t move at all.

  ‘Hell,’ exclaimed Tad. ‘Can’t you ring a bell, or make a noise before you do that? I almost have a heart attack every time it happens.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said Nathaniel. ‘Listen. I got news. The squad advancing on the area around Kettering was attacked. Forty thousand plus Orcs and goblins.’

  Tad went pale. ‘That is not good,’ he said.

  ‘No worries,’ countered The Forever Man. I took care of it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Ice storm. Frozen missiles the size of baseballs. Deadly stuff.’

  ‘You got them to retreat using ice?’ Asked Tad, his voice incredulous.

  ‘No,’ denied Nathaniel. ‘I destroyed them using ice. Every last one of them. I had to do something big, go large or go home. It was an obvious test of strength by the rubber head command and now they are under no illusions that the force they are facing is capable of overwhelming acts of destruction.’

  Neither Kob nor Tad said anything for a while, they simply stared at the man next to them. A man who was their friend. A man who had stood with them against all odds for many years now. A man who was now capable of destroying over forty thousand living beings with little more than a thought.

  Tad shuddered. Then he looked closer at his friend. And he saw the haggardness of his features. He saw the turmoil behind his eyes. A mélange of horror and despair and righteousness and duty. And fear. But not fear of the enemy – fear of himself. Fear of what he had become. Of what he was capable of.

  And over it all a dull cover of utter exhaustion.

  Tad put his hand on Nathaniel’s arm. ‘You need to rest, my friend,’ he said. His voice low and full of compassion. ‘A few hours sleep. If you carry on at this rate it will be the death of you. Or whatever. Something bad will happen, of that I am sure. You’ve been running on empty for days now.’

  Nathaniel shook his head. ‘Can’t sleep. Need to maintain the simulacrums. We need to get the rubber heads to pull back to London. I need them all there, inside the city, close together so that I can institute the next part of the plan.’

  ‘Forgive me, my king,’ said Kob. ‘I need to ask, why all of this subterfuge? If you are capable of destroying an army of forty thousand, surely we can simply bide our time and destroy the Fair-Folk piecemeal.’

  Nathaniel shook his head. ‘Many reasons, Kob Kingsman,’ he said. ‘Firstly, I cannot begin to tell you how difficult that was. Theoretically I cannot die, but in actuality, if I literally burn up, then there is nothing to stay alive. I doubt that I could do something like that ice storm again and live through it. Secondly, if we start a long protracted war, who knows what effect it will have on the enslaved humans? Will the rubber heads kill off all of those who are not necessary to the war effort? Will they use them as human shields? Finally, I have enough left in me for one more big hit – and that will be when the rubber heads mass in London. Three more days if all goes well. Just three more days.’

  Chapter 44

  Commander Ammon was close to losing control of his emotions. He had just witnessed the total destruction of an army of forty thousand Orcs in under a single hour. The scale of the power involved was off the scale. It was completely overwhelming and his brain was struggling to catch up and formulate some sort of response.

  ‘Just bring everyone back,’ he shouted at Seth. ‘I want the
mages circle in the main tower and ready to fight. I want two hundred thousand archers between me and them. Put every Orc that we have around the walls. Dig trenches, raise stakes. Do it!’

  ‘Commander,’ interjected Seth. ‘If I may make a suggestion? Before we pull everyone back I think that we…’

  ‘I am commander, master mage. I am, not you. Do as I have commanded. We have little time; we need to show a united front against these incoming forces. If we can show them enough strength we might give them pause for thought.’

  Seth bowed and left the room. As he closed the door he saw Milly approaching, walking down the corridor. He grabbed her writs.

  ‘Milly human,’ he said. ‘You must talk to the commander. We need to discuss what to do. I believe that he is wrong in telling us to pull back to London. There must be other alternatives.’

  Milly started at the mage, her gaze icy. ‘Don’t you think that you could best serve your commander by simply obeying him?’ She asked.

  ‘There is something not right,’ insisted Seth. ‘I can’t put my finger on it but I genuinely believe that we would gain nothing by overreacting so quickly, after all, a day won’t make a difference.’

  ‘I tell you what,’ answered Milly. ‘I will do you a favor.’

  Seth bowed. ‘Thank you, Milly human,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ continued Milly. ‘When I go in to see the commander, I will forget that this conversation occurred. After all, now is not the time for commander Ammon to discover that his closest advisor is attempting to undermine his authority.’

  Milly turned on her heel and entered the commander’s room without announcing herself. She closed the door firmly behind her.

  Seth shook his head and left in order to carry out his commander’s orders.

  Chapter 45

  Nathaniel had been riding a horse but had now taken to walking in order to keep himself from passing out from exhaustion. He stumbled slightly as he walked, his legs loose and rubbery. It was the morning of the fifth day and, as the humans advanced, they started to come across abandoned labor camps and small settlements. The human slaves were still in their pens but there was no sign of Orc nor goblin nor Fair-Folk.

 

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