Iron Horsemen

by Brad R. Cook

  My arm struggled to move against the pull of the magnet. I’d never reach her in time, but Genevieve raced around me, snatched Zerelda’s tail and cut it off.

  I raised my armor’s arms and cheered. Then yelled over the engine noise, “You’re moving more easily than me or Mr. Singh.”

  Genevieve yelled. “It must be the bronze plating.”

  Bronze isn’t affected by magnets. “I should have realized that!”

  “I’ll deal with the Horsemen.” Genevieve rolled forward and attacked. Her quick-hitting style confused the Horsemen as she wove between them.

  Debris swirling in the sky allowed me to see the electromagnet beams heading toward the comet. The constant wave of energy flowed into the heavens as arcing bands drew in everything for miles.

  Had we lost? I thought I’d have time to stop the electromagnet before the comet crashed to earth, but in truth I didn’t know. What if it was pulled so far it couldn’t resume its normal course? How long until there was nothing we could do to stop it?

  The Iron Horsemen stood between me and the machine. Unaffected by the magnet, they had weapons I couldn’t match, and now the aim of the German zeppelins had improved to the point that almost every shot landed beside me.

  Rain pelted the battlefield; the streets of London had been gnarled and torn, much like those who fought upon them. Several screaming British soldiers tumbled past as the electromagnet dragged them closer. I wondered if this was it, had we given as much as we could give. Did I have more to sacrifice? Could I save this city, its people, maybe even the world from the destruction wrought by the four Iron Horsemen? The surreal painting that formed outside my visor both horrified me and yet was beautiful. The haze of fire, smoke, and refracted light painted the world in windblown brushstrokes and hues of blended colors.

  I watched the bleak painting before me and understood why my father and the baron didn’t want me or Genevieve to fight. Our side might lose this battle. But someone had to fight and right now that someone was me.

  CHAPTER 38

  THE MOMENT

  I heard Genevieve’s battle cry, spun around, and found her locked in combat with both the pale and black steeds. Her Bronze Knight moved in mechanized grace. Its cannon roared at Zerelda. Genevieve missed and her second shot was deflected by the iron beast. I wanted to help, but it didn’t look like she needed me.

  Tobias’s pale-shrouded steed spewed forth a cloud of toxic gas that smelled like rotten eggs and burned my throat. I tried not to breathe, but in the cloud I caught the outline of the Bronze Knight pushing through the thickest part of the mist.

  Mr. Singh raced out of the gas coughing like a choking engine.

  I worried for Genevieve and Rodin. I wanted to charge through the mist and grab her, but let the foolish thought slip away.

  “Genevieve!” I waved the Iron Knight’s arms. “Get out of there!”

  Kannard smashed through part of building sending bricks across the cobblestones. “Quit wasting your breath, you’re little girlfriend is dead. That toxic cloud has a cyanide base. A nasty little something we were able to create from the remnants of the pale-horse’s urn.”

  The mist crept closer, but I pushed Kannard’s words from my mind. “Call off your men, and we’ll let you live.”

  “Still entertaining, boy! But I could never be the equal of some poor commoner. The Iron Horsemen are indestructible unlike your little tin soldiers.”

  I pulled the control lever and raised the Black Knight’s sword arm. I swung the thick-heavy blade but the white-shrouded steed leapt backward and fired its cannon. I braced myself behind my shield which dented from the force. I stared at the dimple and wondered how long until it finally gave out.

  Kannard spun his steed around and said, “You can’t win! Your industrial science can never defeat the magic and myth of the Old World.”

  I aimed my sword at Lord Kannard. “You’re never going to hurt anyone ever again.”

  Even as I said the words, I didn’t know if I could succeed. My bravado was a façade like an actor on the stage.

  “Only a fool would fight me!”

  “Then I am a fool,” I muttered. My attention darted back to the cloud as it crept closer. The white shrouded horseman looked unconcerned, but my throat burned as the mist drifted through the visor.

  Lord Kannard’s iron steed leapt over some debris and slammed into my Black Knight. I fell backward and tore up the cobblestones as I gouged a trench down the street.

  Mr. Singh thundered around the mist and attacked. He fought like a lion, forcing Kannard to dodge or be impaled. He slammed his shield into the steed, and tried to club the horseman with the barrel of his cannon.

  Lord Kannard smashed the steed’s hooves into Iron Templar’s shield and fired. Mr. Singh and the armor tumbled into a nearby building. The mechanized beast leapt forward and pressed down on the shield.

  I had to get up and help. Not watch through my visor. I pulled the lever to release the piston and pushed the Black Knight back up.

  Mr. Singh lifted the leg of the Iron Templar, revved up the tread, and smashed his foot into the white-shrouded steed. Kannard fell backward. Mr. Singh charged and smashed the Iron Horseman into the building on the other side of the street. The indented bricks collapsed as horse and rider tumbled into the building. Mr. Singh fired a round into the ceiling to bring the debris down on Kannard and his demon steed.

  Kannard’s white-shrouded steed lunged out of the ruins and reared up, but Mr. Singh slammed the Iron Templar’s shoulder under the horseman to keep it from bringing disaster.

  Thunder and lightning erupted in the clouds above, as if the Greek god Zeus himself called my attention to the heavens.

  A dark shape cut through the storm and emerged into clear skies: the Sparrowhawk opened fire with all its cannons. One of the Zeppelins exploded in a giant fireball and the aero-dirigible soared through the flames. One after another the German zeppelins fell to the swift Sparrowhawk.

  “The captain made it!” I jumped and hit my head on the helmet of the Black Knight. Ouch.

  With Mr. Singh holding Lord Kannard and Genevieve still lost in the cloud, I knew what I had to do. I rolled for the house, letting the magnet pull me faster.

  Above, the Sparrowhawk fired their forward cannon destroying chunks of the house and then banked for a broadside. But the ship kept moving forward, dragged sideways toward the magnet.

  I smashed through the fence and fired my cannon. The first shot destroyed the outer wall of the house, the second blew apart the interior, and the third arced wildly. With a loud clunk it stuck to the electromagnet rather than blowing it to pieces.

  I was out of ammunition but it didn’t matter, they were useless. The Black Knight couldn’t break free of the powerful magnet either. I shot a grappling line toward the columns on an adjoining house. For the moment I had stopped, but there was nothing I could do to prevent our failure. London, maybe even the whole world would be destroyed, and it would be my fault. At least I wouldn’t be around for my father’s punishments.

  The Sparrowhawk struggled to break free of the magnet, I heard the deep roar of the engines revving at full power. Then the aero-dirigible aimed its bow at the house. The front cannon fired, and the Gatling gun rained lead.

  “But they’ll never pull out in time with the magnet on.” Uncertain what to do, I looked for my companions.

  Tobias’s pale-shrouded steed, burst through the cloud with the Bronze Knight hooked around its neck. White vapor poured from its mouth and two canisters on its hips. The pale-shrouded steed kicked the Bronze Knight away. Chuckling behind his gas mask, Tobias turned the steed’s chest cannons toward Genevieve.

  The Bronze Knight stepped forward and plunged its blade deep into the steed’s chest which destroyed the cannon and exposed the urn—the heart of the horseman. She reached in with the armor’s clawed hand and yanked it free. She held the ceramic and metal urn high above the armor’s head.

  Stillness overtook the st
reets, drops of rain suspended in the air and everything slowed down as if the world held its breath.

  I saw it, felt it, even smelled it. My father had always told me stories of my namesake, Alexander the Great of Macedonia. The brilliant young tactician would ride atop his faithful steed, Bucephalus, watching the battle for the critical moment. In that one brief second of time Alexander the Great would strike the fatal blow and claim victory. In doing so he had never lost a battle, ever.

  This was my moment, and I knew it. That didn’t mean I was ready for it.

  Blood pounded in my ears until I was deaf from it. I raised the Black Knight’s sword and cut the cable anchoring me.

  The armor soared through the air as if drawn by a wire. Through the visor, I saw the shattered remains of the fence and knew the house was next. I thrust my sword into the closest generator. The wide, thick blade sank deep into the layered metal, and the armor swung around the handle.

  The electromagnet wrenched the armor’s clawed hand from the weapon. I raised my shield, tensed my body and closed my eyes. The Black Knight slammed into the coils.

  The Sparrowhawk fired again, striking the coils and generator. The explosion ripped the house to pieces and arced bolts of electricity up into the clouds. Smoke billowed up, and a shockwave blasted out the windows and rattled buildings for blocks. The Sparrowhawk pulled up as the explosion singed the wingsails.

  Genevieve crushed the urn in the claw of the Bronze Knight and the raindrops fell to the ground.

  Tobias’ body shuddered and was thrown backward by the force of the shattered urn. He tumbled from the iron steed which fell apart into chunks of scrap metal.

  Kannard screamed. “You will pay for this with your lives! Hendrix kill them all, take no prisoners, no quarter or mercy shall be granted!”

  Col. Hendrix rode over and slammed into the Bronze Knight’s back. He forced her to the ground and raised his large sword.

  I saw this through the shattered house, my gut wrenched and my knees buckled.

  Pain racked my leg as if I’d been shot. I was afraid to reach down. Slowly my hand examined my pant leg. I feared the worst, but ran into bent and twisted metal. The armor had crumpled and pinned my leg, but I could still wiggle my toes and press the pedal.

  Dust choked the air as bits of mortar fell through the visor. Bricks and wood crashed down upon the armor. I forced the debris off my machine and pulled on a crumbling wall to get out of the rubble.

  The soldiers who’d tumbled toward the house had been stopped by the wooden fence. Those who hadn’t been able to get out of the gear that pinned them now ran away without issue. I realized the pull of the magnet no longer had power over my armor. The magnet was no longer magnetized! I refocused on Lord Kannard whose haunted eyes gazed at the house.

  Hendrix guttural southern drawl reverberated along the cobblestones. “Boy!”

  The sound cut through my pain, I saw Genevieve about to die, but also my opening to attack Kannard who was still held by the Iron Templar.

  I yelled. “Kannard, your plan failed, because good men stood against you, and sacrificed everything for this world.”

  Rodin crawled out from beneath the Bronze Knight’s visor and attacked Col. Hendrix.

  I thrust the controls forward and the Black Knight sped out of the debris. My leg was injured but I ignored the pain and raced for Genevieve.

  Lord Kannard slammed down and knocked the Iron Templar into a building that collapsed atop Mr. Singh.

  Rodin scratched Hendrix’s face and tore out the electric eye underneath the bronze plate, but flew off as I knocked the Colonel’s sword aside. My Black Knight grabbed Genevieve’s Bronze Knight and we tumbled down the street.

  Artillery rounds whizzed overhead and slammed into the horsemen. It wasn’t the Sparrowhawk; it had to be the British army. I cheered.

  The Black Knight lay atop the Bronze Knight. I flipped my visor up and Genevieve opened hers.

  I smiled. “You okay?”

  Genevieve nodded. “Bugger, I think so.”

  “How did you survive the gas?”

  “I held my breath silly.” Her smile faded. “Your leg?”

  “I’m … I’ll be fine.” At least I hoped the searing pain would pass.

  “Where are the Iron Horsemen?”

  I squeezed out onto her knight and looked around—they were gone. The pale steed lay in a pile of disjointed scrap and was surrounded by British soldiers. In the sky above, the Sparrowhawk soared alone. I looked at Genevieve. “I think we won.”

  “Of course we did.”

  I wedged open the chest plate of the Bronze Knight and helped her out. We sat on the two knights, surveying the devastation around them. Torn up streets, buildings in ruin, carnage everywhere we looked—but London survived.

  Genevieve took my hand. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  “You’re more important than Kannard.”

  She hugged me, and kissed my cheek. “Indihar!”

  “What?” I asked as she pulled away.

  “Over here.” Out of the rubble a blue turban, grayed by dust, appeared in the street.

  Behind us, the familiar Scottish drawl of Grand Master Sinclair broke called out. “Look who just pulled off a miracle!”

  CHAPTER 39

  BACK AT SCHOOL

  I tugged at my vest and tightened my tie before hobbling up the stairs to my father’s office. I longed for the comfortable clothes of my adventure, but the leather strap I wound around myself would never pass at Eton. The ripple of pain in my leg reminded me of another memory. It had only been three days since the battle in London, and every step reminded me of our sacrifice.

  When I reached the top, I stepped toward my father’s office door. It had been replaced; a crack no longer split the center. Voices spoke over each other inside, and given recent events, I crept up to the door and slipped my bag from my shoulder. With a tight grip I wrapped the strap around my hand ready to pummel any trouble I might find inside. I grabbed the doorknob with my other hand and slowly turned the handle. I threw open the door and lunged inside.

  My father leaned against his desk, Baron Kensington, Grand Master Sinclair and the duke stood around him. Their heads snapped around in unison, and I lowered the bag and nodded to each of them.

  Sinclair smiled as he leaned on his sword cane. “Good to see you haven’t lost your instincts, lad.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Mr. Sinclair.”

  The baron nodded. “We were just letting your father know how grateful her majesty is for all that you have done.”

  “Well that’s good. I’m not being excused for all the time I missed here at Eton; I’ll be in detention for weeks.”

  “I’ll see if the queen can’t intervene on your behalf, it’s the least that we can do.” The baron turned to Professor Armitage. “I thank you for everything you’ve done and hope you’ll remain at Eton.”

  “I intend to, thank you, and please extend my gratitude to her majesty.”

  I set down my leather bag and asked, “Do you know what happened to Kannard or Hendrix?”

  Sinclair nodded and the baron said, “They’ve fled to America for now. The Knights of the Golden Circle are stronger there, but they’ll be back. We must be ever vigilant. Worry not, the Templars will keep our eyes upon them.”

  The duke spoke up. “Zerelda has rejoined the Storm Vulture. The urn was not among the remnants of her steed.”

  I wondered about the Iron Horsemen, but already knew the answer. They were still out there. The comet had passed, and no longer lingered in the sky, but fragments still trailed behind it. The stories I’d heard crept back into my mind. The disasters they tried to bring would still loom on the horizon until all the horsemen were destroyed.

  Sinclair said. “Don’t you worry lad, we’ve got it handled for now. You focus on school.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  “I’ve got my eye on you.”

  The professor stepped forward. “There�
�s no need for that, my son needs to focus on his studies.”

  I glared at my father, then turned to Baron Kensington. “Excuse me, but I was wondering if Genevieve was at home? I wanted to see if she was okay.”

  The baron smiled. “Actually she’s in the carriage. I think she wanted to make certain you were well.”

  “Father, may I go?”

  “Yes, but be back soon for dinner.”

  I ran off, taking the stairs three at a time and ignoring the pain in my leg. Out into the courtyard, Finn sat atop the steam carriage. My heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty. I tried to calm myself, but thinking of her almost made me dizzy. I leaned casually against the wheel.

  “Hi Finn. Hope you’re well.”

  “Well enough.”

  I took a deep breath and started to say something else clever, but Finn beat me to it.

  “You gonna stand there all day or what?”

  I turned and looked into the steam carriage where Genevieve watched me with a smile on her face. She opened the door and stepped out. A long gray dress with a high collar and flowing skirt spilled out behind her. Her locket shimmered on the silver chain curling around her neck. With her hair bound in an elaborate wrap, and makeup coloring her cheeks, she looked so much older than sixteen.

  “You look great, but I think I got used to the pants.”

  Genevieve laughed. “The uniform looks … uncomfortable. But very dapper.”

  “It is, and thanks.”

  Genevieve looked to the ground unable to meet my gaze. “Alexander, I wanted to come so I could tell you myself. My father is headed to Egypt to recuperate, and I’m going with him.”

  “Oh … will you be back?”

  “Yes, but not for awhile.”

  “May I write you?”

  “I would like that.”

  I smiled, and my heart soared, and I wanted to kiss her right here in the street, but a loud voice called from across the courtyard.

  “Well, look who’s all dressed up. Where’re those two bilge rats that crawled out of the river?”

  “Captain Baldarich!” I shook his hand, and nodded to Mr. Singh and Ignatius. The three slapped me on the back and bowed and kissed Genevieve’s hand. “What are you doing here?”