Atlantis - Return of the Nation

by Steven Cook

  The leading elements ran directly at the cart that had been pushed by the approaching warriors. They reached it and shoved it backwards over the dead and injured. Whilst several of their number held back the warriors attempting to push the cart back the remainder levered the cart onto its side.

  The cart balance precariously before crashing over onto the attackers, pinning several to the ground. The Fourth slowly retreated, stabbing down at the injured warriors beneath them.

  As soon as they had opened a space between them and the attackers they increased their pace and fled back to their lines. In their wake they left four of their own dead. Their foe had lost twenty-one killed and six injured and unable to continue the fight.

  Danny and Fitz were now lying flat on top of the small gateway fortification. They now had a clear view of the flank of the attackers.

  Slightly sickened, they flicked the selectors on their carbines from safety to three round burst. They paused, and then took careful aim.

  The warriors of the Tenth quadrant didn’t have a clue as to what started knocking them down. A withering hail of ceramic coated lead sliced into their packed ranks. The two sailors hardly needed to aim.

  ‘I’m empty.’ called Danny.

  He ejected the empty magazine and pushed it into a pocket on his combat vest. Taking up another magazine he slammed it home, released the bolt to strip off the first round. He raised the carbine and noticed movement beyond the front line.

  ‘Archers!’ He screamed down at the defenders.

  A group of thirty archers drew their bows and released. The arrows lofted high into the air and descended out of the dark into the ranks of the Fourth and Fifth. There were deep thuds as some thundered into hastily lifted shields. There was also the softer sound of them hitting flesh. Screams of agony rose from the ranks.

  Fitz and Danny changed the focus of their aim and targeted the Archers. With the additional range their accuracy dropped, but a number dropped and span from their ranks as they were hit.

  The archers sent another volley into the defenders, causing more casualties. The warriors from the Tenth used the distraction to lead a counter attack. They pushed the carts forward.

  As Danny and Fitz continued to fire at the archers Dingo came up beside them. He saw the immediate danger.

  ‘Concentrate on the warriors, I’ll get the archers.’

  Danny and Fitz redirected their aim and started thinning the ranks of the Warriors. Dingo aimed at the Archers, and using his better aim, started to pick them off.

  One by one they dropped as a single round took them in the chest. It didn’t take them long to realise how long they would live as he started at one end and moved along the line. By the time he reached number four the rest stopped firing and dived for the cover of the darkened street behind them.

  Dingo shifted his aim and added his fire to the others. The three took their time aiming as the warriors from the Tenth had retreated behind the carts and were unwilling to show themselves.

  Danny fired a couple of quick shots at a leg barely visible between the spokes of one of the wheels.

  ‘Shit,’ said Dingo.

  Danny turned to look at him and was shocked to see Dingo slowly easing himself to the floor. The shaft of an arrow was sticking out of his shoulder. There was a long groove in the side of his helmet where the arrow had grazed it.

  ‘Fitz, Dingo’s hit.’ He looked over at the sailor as he moved to help Dingo sit.

  Fitz lifted his eye from his sights and rolled onto his side to look back. As he did another arrow dropped out of the dark sky and buried into his exposed throat. Danny looked back towards the street near the barracks and saw a lone archer drawing his bow to loose another arrow.

  Reacting instinctively he lifted the carbine one handed by the pistol grip and fired from the hip. The recoil from the weapon rocked him backwards.

  At the head of the street the archer didn’t register the weapon in Danny’s hand but he saw the flash. He never heard the three rounds that slammed into his head and chest, killing him instantly.

  Danny’s carbine locked open on an empty magazine. Dropping it he helped Dingo to the roof.

  ‘Danny, see to Fitz, I’m OK.’ Dingo gasped in pain but pushed him towards the recumbent body.

  Danny dropped to him knees by Fitz and rolled him onto his back. The arrow had punched through, tearing a large hole. He could see that there was nothing he could do. Fitz died in his arms, the light dimming from his eyes.

  ‘He’s gone,’ he said to Dingo.

  With the gunfire no longer pinning them down the warriors of the Tenth gathered their courage and surged out of the cover and charged towards the defensive line.

  The Fourth and Fifth warriors cast their javelins at close range, punching holes in the charging force. They then drew their swords and braced their shields for the clash.

  *

  Eastern Canal 25th May

  The Rangers used the respite of travelling on the canal between friendly shores as an opportunity to reload some of their empty magazines, pulling cardboard boxes of the 5.56 mm ammunition out of the kit bags in the centre of the boat.

  ‘What was that stuff?’ asked Wallace.

  ‘The only thing I’ve heard of that acts like that is Greek Fire. The composition of that stuff was lost hundreds of years ago, but then this lot have not been around for ages.’ Atkinson replied.

  ‘Well I hope they forget it soon.’ Wallace murmured.

  The part of the hull that had been sprayed with the Greek Fire had finally stopped burning, leaving a dark patch of carbon scoring on the metal.

  Atkinson continued to look ahead up the canal.

  ‘Is that the final turn?’ He indicated the next junction in the canal.

  ‘That’s it. Tenth on the port, Third on the starboard. It’s three miles to the gate from there.’

  Atkinson shouted for his men to brace themselves as the boat began its high-speed turn. He ducked down as he heard something in his radio in an attempt to cut the distortion.

  ‘…dred warriors. Repeat, we are under attack by over two hundred warriors. The zone is hot! Over.’

  Atkinson clicked the selector to connect to Fisher’s team.

  ‘This is Slim, we are three minutes out. Over,’ he punched Wallace on the arm.

  ‘Floor it!’

  Wallace responded immediately, jamming the throttle fully against the stops. The Guardian accelerated to nearly sixty miles an hour, the ceramic coating on the hull of the boat reduced drag, enabling Wallace to coax an extra two or three miles per hour out of the engines. The walls rushed past at a scary speed.

  They could see masses of warriors running along the port side bank, rushing towards the outer wall and the conflict at the gate.

  *

  Northern Gate 25th May

  Fisher listened intently to the message from Atkinson then turned to watch the battle in front of him. The selected warriors from the Fourth and Fifth were the best available, yet the numbers opposing them were incredible.

  For each opponent they struck down, another took their place. Soon they began to make mistakes as they tired from parrying the heavy blows. Each movement required an extra effort. One by one they were struck down.

  They maintained their formation, tightening their lines as the number diminished. Saraph, Eraz, Jarak and Sophia fought alongside them as a team, each covering the others. They became a beacon of strongest resistance and as a consequence, the target of the most determined assault.

  The Tenth continued hammering the lines, forcing them back by sheer numbers. In the centre of the line Saraph jerked his head aside to avoid a javelin thrown at him. Subconsciously he heard it strike home in the warrior behind him.

  Slightly off balance a large warrior charged him. He attempted to right his balance to meet the attack, but his foot stepped back onto the fel
led warrior behind him. He lost what was left of his balance and fell backwards. Automatically his hands went back to break the fall.

  The warrior facing him lifted his sword to strike at his exposed chest. As the blow descended Jarak struck from the side, the sword pierced the armpit of the warrior, piercing deeply into his lung.

  The warrior collapsed, tearing Jarak’s sword from his hand. Weaponless he stood in front, wielding his shield two handed. He deflected a number of blows on the shield until a javelin pierced through it.

  The javelin was pulled back, and as the barbed head stuck in the shield, Jarak was pulled with it into the crowds of the Tenth. He disappeared beneath a hail of sword blows.

  Saraph started to scramble to his feet. He was aided by Fisher, who stepped forward. His carbine was set to burst fire, and he aimed from the hip, blasting the front rows of the Tenth.

  As the Tenth were struck down it gave the Fourth and Fifth chance to disengage. They pulled back several yards. Fisher used the lull to pull a grenade from a vest pocket. He pulled the pin using his teeth then tossed the sphere over the heads of the front rows.

  The explosion was deep within the ranks, knocking a large number of warriors down. The Fourth and Fifth refrained from using the opportunity to attack, instead choosing to retreat from the crest of the bridge.

  From the additional height Fisher could see additional forces reinforcing the attackers. He turned to see Danny stumbling from the fortification, supporting Dingo.

  ‘Fitz?’ He asked.

  Dingo shook his head in reply.

  There was a roar as fresh warriors charged up the incline to attack. The Fourth and Fifth retreated, relinquishing the crest. The Tenth now had the high ground and used it to their advantage. They pressed their attack, pushing the defenders backwards.

  *

  Chapter Fourteen - Departure

  Northern Gate 25th May

  The warriors of the Fourth and Fifth Quadrants were forced back from the crest, down the slope and into the territory of the Third Quadrant. As the first of the Tenth stepped over the boundary to attack a horn trumpeted over the din of the battle.

  Both sides of the conflict recognised the call as the sound to disengage, and without knowing who had issued the command they immediately stopped trading blows and took a couple of steps back to face each other.

  Hoylarn stood at the base of the incline behind the depleted forces of the Fourth and Fifth. Beside him stood the trumpeter who had made the call.

  ‘Tenth Warriors, withdraw immediately, you are not authorised to enter our territory.’ Hoylarn called loudly.

  The Tenth warriors who had stepped beyond the sacrosanct boundary realised that they had breached etiquette and took another step back, realising that their lives were forfeit. Until this point all combat had taken place on the neutral ground of the gate. They slowly withdrew further back up the incline.

  Standing in close formation behind Hoylarn were the massed ranks of the Third Assault Phalanx. The elite warriors were dressed in heavy battle armour that consisted of scales and plates, rather than the usual banding that other warriors used.

  These were the troops that had been at the forefront of all of Arcanadia’s battles in the Mediterranean. They had never been defeated and their reputation was well known.

  A stalemate evolved during which the battered remnants of the Fourth and Fifth withdrew slowly away from the foot of the incline. They stood huddled together and attempted to staunch the blood flowing from their wounds.

  From their position on the lower ground Fisher and Danny sensed rather than saw a commotion over the brow of the incline. They paused in dressing Dingo’s wound to look. At the top of the rise the warriors drew aside to let several figures push through.

  There was a collective intake of breath and the rattle of armour as the Third warriors looked sideways at their companions. Five Minoans strode over the prow of the rise and stood looking down at the gathered ranks. For the first time ever, Minoans were standing armed within the walls of Atlantis.

  Fisher turned to Danny and Dingo.

  ‘Isn’t that the bastard who knocked me into the river?’ He nodded towards the smallest of the Minoans.

  He noticed the different looks on their faces.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

  Dingo struggled to rise.

  ‘I’ll tell you later. Help me up. I’ll sort this out.’ He picked up his carbine. ‘Is Slim nearly here?’

  Fisher looked towards the canal.

  ‘He’s about a minute out.’ Fisher estimated.

  ‘Back in a minute, get ready to leave.’

  Dingo drew himself upright and moved back up the incline. At the top M’Varak narrowed his eyes as he saw the Ranger.

  ‘Stay here,’ he ordered the other Minoans.

  He moved down the hill towards Dingo, pushing past the warriors of the Tenth.

  They stopped eight feet apart and looked at each other.

  ‘M’Varak.’ Dingo nodded at the creature.

  ‘Warrior,’ M’Varak replied.

  ‘I’m calling in the debt you owe me,’ the Ranger stated quietly.

  ‘I suspected as much as soon as I saw you. What do you want of me?’

  ‘I want you to come with me. Within the next five days I will ask you to carry out one task. When that is done I will release you of your debt.’

  M’Varak looked closely at Dingo. He noticed the pain showing in his eyes. He continued to look at him as the sound of the approaching Guardian Patrol Boat increased.

  ‘I will do as you say,’ he said.

  Dingo started to move back towards Fisher and Danny. M’Varak turned to the other Minoans.

  ‘I am honouring a debt. Continue with your orders.’ He turned and walked after Dingo.

  The Minoans showed no concern about one of their number departing. The largest threw back his head and bellowed. Hefting his axe he started running down the hill, followed by the other three Minoans and the numerous others who had stayed out of sight beyond the brow.

  In the Guardian Atkinson saw the flood of Minoans charge down the incline.

  ‘Let ‘em have it,’ he shouted.

  On the two remaining machine guns they needed no further instructions. They had been briefed on the nature of the Minoans and knew what would happen if they got to the massed ranks.

  The machine guns roared, sending a lethal torrent of lead and ceramic into the stampeding Minoans. A large number were knocked down by the firepower, but the mass continued its charge.

  The ranks of the Third waited patiently, their spears were set and braced for impact. With a resounding crash the Minoans leapt at the warriors. Many were impaled but some avoided the wicked lances and crashed into the warriors.

  ‘Topper, get the gate,’ instructed Atkinson.

  As Wallace killed the forward motion Topper aimed at the gate. The sound of the rocket launching was lost in the sounds of the battle, but the roar of the explosion caused a lull in the fighting. The gate was blasted apart, revealing an open view of the land to the north of Atlantis.

  Using the little momentum the Guardian still had Wallace guided the boat to the starboard bank. He drifted alongside a bireme which was tied up next to a stairway leading up to the main street. A crowd were gathered waiting to embark.

  ‘Slim, good to see you,’ Fisher greeted his colleague.

  ‘Angler,’ Atkinson replied. He looked up onto the bank where the battle was underway. He was shocked to see M’Varak standing quietly behind Dingo and raised an eyebrow in query.

  ‘Don’t worry about him Slim. Take your squad and assist General Ilissus any way you can. You may as well take the 48’s, we won’t need them.’

  In short order the Rangers on the boat swapped places, carrying most of their equipment onto the landing dock. A r
agtag group consisting of Saraph, Coran, Eraz and Sophia, together with Fisher, Danny and Dingo embarked. Finally M’Varak stepped hesitantly into the strange boat.

  ‘Let’s go.’ Fisher ordered Wallace.

  The pilot looked wide-eyed as the Minoan lowered himself to the deck.

  ‘Come on, get us moving,’ snapped Fisher.

  In reply Wallace pushed forward the throttles and quickly took the boat away from the dock. As he cleared the bireme’s shadow he jammed the throttle fully open, sending the boat across the small exposed water under the bridge and out through the ruined gate. The sounds of battle died as they passed out into the lake beyond the walls.

  *

  North of Atlantis 25th May

  The joint column of Minoans and Sixth Phalanx warriors had camped for the night. Guard duty had been assigned to the human element of the joint force due to their better night-time vision. The rest of the twin force was gathered around a number of campfires.

  In the centre of the encampment Minotaur and Hildar were sitting on opposite sides of a small fire. One of Hildar’s men was examining the wounds across Minotaur’s face.

  ‘Some of the wounds are closing up fine, but others are badly infected. I’ll need to open them up properly and pack them with herbage.’ The medic announced to the two.

  ‘Do it,’ snarled Minotaur.

  The pain in his head had increased steadily during the march from Atlantis, and he was starting to feel delirious. Hildar looked at the Minoan then made a suggestion.

  ‘It would be wise if we have some of your warriors hold you down. It would not be good if you started thrashing around whilst a knife is close to you.’

  Minotaur considered this then shouted for three of his warriors to attend him.

  At the medic’s instructions Minotaur laid down close to the fire. The Minoan warriors arranged themselves around him and two took hold of his horns and his legs. The third straddled his chest and pinned his arms.

  The medic looked at Hildar for final orders.

  ‘Carry on Darath. I will help if I can.’ The two knelt on either side of Minotaur. Hildar was on the side of his good eye, Darath opposite.