Atlantis - Return of the Nation

by Steven Cook

  ‘It may be wise for you to sleep on the boat,’ suggested Sophia to M’Varak.

  He swivelled his ears to listen to the dogs yipping and growling at each other then conceded the point.

  ‘I agree. I will help you set up camp before I retire to the boat.’

  The group soon gathered a pile of wood and stacked it to create a bonfire that was soon burning brightly. The flames reached high into the sky and pushed back the night.

  Wallace and Eraz opened one of the boxes of food packs and started loading the contents into the group’s backpacks. Hernet wandered over and sniffed at the rations.

  ‘I’m not eating that,’ he declared.

  ‘Well that’s all we have to offer,’ said the pilot.

  The sphinx looked as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

  ‘In that case I will be back later.’ He turned and took a couple of bounds across the stony beach before driving down hard with his wings and taking to the air.

  The group turned to watch him gain height over the nearby bushes before turning to prepare for the meal.

  Coran moved over to where Dingo was resting.

  ‘Let me have a look at your shoulder.’

  Dingo eased the overalls from his shoulder to reveal the bandages. Coran carefully untied the knot and started to unwrap the bandages, winding them into a bundle as he went.

  Finally the bandages were removed, revealing a wad of brown herbs stuck to Dingo’s skin by clotted blood. Coran made a quick trip to the river and soaked a rag with fresh water. Using the wet cloth he washed the used herbs away to reveal the wound area.

  ‘Strewth mate, that’s bloody amazing!’ Dingo looked in astonishment at the clear unmarked skin.

  Coran smiled and took Dingo’s arm and flexed it.

  ‘How does that feel?’

  ‘Like nothing happened.’ The only reason he knew there had been an injury was because it had happened to him and the area was paler than the surrounding skin.

  ‘LT, I’m back on active duty,’ the Ranger called across the camp to Fisher.

  ‘Good, you can take first watch,’ replied the officer.

  ‘Should have kept my trap shut.’ Dingo moved to the crates of equipment with his carbine and selected several of the items inside.

  In place of the grenade launcher on his carbine he affixed a powerful Maglite torch. He also selected a couple of spare magazines. Before slipping them into pouches on his vest he banged them on the stock of his weapon to ensure the rounds were seated properly and wouldn’t jam when needed.

  Satisfied he was properly equipped for the evening’s watch he idly rummaged through the remaining equipment.

  ‘You beauty!’ he lifted out a Sig 226 pistol coated in glossy ceramic and examined it in the firelight.

  The weapon had been adapted to carry a laser sight under the barrel. Smiling broadly he took no time in checking it was loaded. He took a couple of experimental pulls on the trigger and was delighted with the beam or red light that issued from the laser. He ensured the safety catch was engaged before swapping the new pistol with the useless model he had been carrying in his holster.

  *

  Northern Plain 26th May

  M’Sorta wandered back through the camp towards where the captives lay secured to the stake. The bark of a distant dog caused him to swivel his ears in the direction of the noise and his nostrils to flare.

  The wind briefly changed direction and the thick scent of fresh blood immediately assaulted his senses. M’Sorta changed the relaxed one-handed grip on his axe to a more secure two-handed grip. Slowly he stalked towards the captives.

  He did a quick count and realised that Hildar was missing. He was about to call out when the scent of blood again caught his attention. Dropping all caution he ran towards the source of the scent and quickly came upon the body of the slain warrior.

  ‘Minotaur!’ he bellowed.

  In an instant the camp was awake. Carl, Craig and Darath rolled into sitting positions and looked around as if woken from sleep. The Minoans were all standing, gripping their weapons and looking into the darkness.

  Minotaur lumbered out of the darkness towards M’Sorta.

  ‘What?’ the warrior king was obviously annoyed at being woken.

  ‘Hildar has broken free and killed M’Karnak.’

  Minotaur whirled around and strode towards the captives.

  ‘Where is he?’ he bellowed.

  Carl looked wildly around.

  ‘I haven’t got a clue.’

  The others shook their heads and shrugged to back him up.

  ‘M’Dornat, find Hildar and bring him back,’ he looked down at Darath, ‘his head will be sufficient. Take M’Tinith and M’Anhath with you.’

  The three Minoans quickly gathered their equipment and started examining the ground near the body. They quickly discovered the sliver of Orichalcum used by Hildar to facilitate his escape. Shortly after that they picked up his scent heading north.

  M’Dornat took the lead with M’Tinith and M’Anhath following a few paces behind. Together they loped off, each taking it in turns to examine the ground to confirm the scent whilst the other two leapfrogged past to provide cover and scan the area ahead.

  The fresh scent and the keen senses of the three trackers enabled them to travel at a steady space. They estimated that they were only a few minutes behind the absent captive.

  The light wind changed direction and the steady breeze brought Hildar’s scent directly to them from the north. As they caught the trace the three Minoan’s nostrils flared. Without exchanging a glance they took off down the slight track that Hildar had been following.

  The warrior was realising how difficult his task was. In his attempt to escape he had sacrificed stealth for speed and intended putting as much distance between the camp and him.

  Unfortunately, the day he had spent tied up and slung on the shoulder of one of the Minoans had taken a huge effect on him. The lack of good food and freedom of movement had caused his muscles to cramp up, severely reducing his rate of escape.

  Hildar slowly crested a small rise in the undulating ground and took a few seconds to look around whilst massaging the knotted muscles in his thigh. The bright moonlight enabled him to make out more features than he had hoped.

  To the north the mountain foothills slowly began to rise towards the snow capped peaks. To the east he could see nothing as far as he could see. To the west the moonlight flickered on a wide stretch of water parallel to his current course. He estimated it was only two miles away.

  He glanced back the way he had come and immediately saw the movement of the Minoans tracking him. As the wind changed he saw them change their method of tracking and realised he was running out of time.

  Without a pause he left the track and took a heading directly towards the distant water, hoping that the Minoans well known dislike of the substance would prevent them from following him. If he could reach the river before they caught him.

  Realising there was no longer any need to attempt to disguise his path Hildar started to run directly towards the river. The slight downhill gradient helped him a little and he dodged around or hurdled the small bushes that scattered the hillside.

  Whether he heard it or not he realised the moment when the Minoans reached the spot where he had turned off the track. A cold feeling travelled down his spine and he attempted to increase his pace. The gradient quickly lessened and as his pace slowed he had to take more care in avoiding the obstacles.

  With almost fatalistic realisation he understood that his chances of reaching the river were almost negligible. The Minoans were better suited to travelling through this kind of terrain. Hildar started looking ahead for a location where he could make his last stand.

  He swept his eyes back and forth as he staggered towards the river. The
burning in his thigh caused him to clench his teeth in an attempt to stop crying out in agony and showing his enemies that he was weak.

  Out of the darkness he saw what he was looking for. A solitary spur of rock rose from the ground to a height of nearly twenty feet. It was approximately twelve feet in diameter and had sheer sides. With his back to it he would limit the approaches the Minoans could make at him.

  He changed his course and hobbled towards it. He could hear pounding behind him as the Minoans gained. In a heroic effort he ignored the pain and sprinted for the spur, temporarily increasing the distance between him and his pursuers.

  He arrived at the spur and stopped himself by holding his hand to brace himself. He turned to face the Minoans, bringing up the oversized knife to defend himself.

  The Minoans stopped their headlong charge after him as soon as they realised they had him at bay. They jogged to a spot twenty-five feet from the spur and warily looked around.

  Hildar watched and caught his breath as the three creatures stood, nostrils flaring and ears twitching at every sound. He realised that they were not altogether comfortable with the situation, and that it wasn’t just facing him that was the problem. Something else was spooking them.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be his last fight. Hildar prepared to make the most of any unexpected events that may present themselves.

  *

  North River 26th May

  Dingo relinquished the watch to Danny with instructions to wake him if anything occurred. The Australian was soon snoring softly, much to Danny’s amusement.

  To keep himself alert Danny decided to stay on his feet and move around. He had his M4 carbine slung across his chest with a torch fitted by Dingo instead of the grenade launcher.

  As he moved slowly around the camp he listened to the sounds of the rest of them. It didn’t take him long to realise that not all of the camp were asleep. He dropped to his haunches in front of one of the bundled shapes.

  ‘Go to sleep. I’m OK by myself.’

  Sophia slowly sat up and smiled at Danny.

  ‘I cannot sleep with that noise.’ She jerked her thumb towards the boat, where the sleeping Minoan was issuing a variety of sounds.

  ‘You should try. We’ve got a long walk tomorrow.’

  ‘Where are the dogs?’ Sophia looked towards the east.

  ‘They’re still out there. I’ve been flashing the light out there every so often to remind them that we know they’re there.’ Danny sat down beside her and looked in the same direction.

  He turned back to see her looking at him, her large sapphire eyes catching the flickering firelight. He was felt himself being drawn deeper and deeper into their depths.

  Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. He jerked himself away from his staring and looked away embarrassed. There was a short pause.

  ‘Danny, what will you do when we have resolved this situation?’ Sophia asked, wrapping her arms around her knees and hugging them to her chest.

  He thought for a while.

  ‘I suppose I will go back to working on the Daring.’

  Sophia looked into the darkness.

  ‘You could stay here,’ she suggested, ‘unless there is somebody waiting for you back in England.’

  Danny looked her, noticing her studious indifference. He looked at her profile, feeling a strange pressure building in his chest.

  ‘There’s nobody waiting for me,’ he said softly.

  Instead of turning towards him Sophia’s brow creased and she sat up a little higher.

  ‘Danny, I think the dogs are leaving.’ She started to get to her feet, pushing back her bedding.

  Danny stood and flicked on the torch under the barrel of the carbine and swept it across the area where the dogs had been skulking. Sophia was correct. The dogs were moving quickly away from the camp, heads held high and their ears pricked up.

  He jogged across the camp and jumped to the top of a fallen tree to get a better view. At the edge of his hearing he heard the bellow of a Minoan.

  ‘Craig?’ With no thought he leapt off the log and began chasing the dogs.

  ‘Danny, wait!’ called Sophia. She quickly grabbed up her weapons and ran after him.

  ‘Sophia?’ Eraz sleepily called her as he rolled into a sitting position, disturbed by the commotion.

  ‘Take guard. I will not be long.’ Sophia finished slinging the sword belt over her shoulder and ran out of the camp after Danny.

  Sophia easily followed Danny. He was crashing through the undergrowth, and the torch beam was flashing back and forth with his motions.

  She quickly caught up and ran lightly beside him, her eyes scanning the way ahead. It seemed that they were heading towards a strange rock formation several hundred metres ahead.

  ‘Turn off the light,’ Sophia ordered.

  Danny quickly complied and the two ran through the bright moonlight towards the rock. They heard a screamed challenge from the far side of the rock.

  ‘For Atlantis!’

  The challenge was countered by the roaring bellow of more than one Minoan. There was no sound from the dogs. The moon revealed the source of the shouting.

  Hildar stood with his back to the rock spur facing the Minoans. The three scouts had drawn their weapons and held them ready. Although they had bellowed in response to his challenge they still were not moving in to attack.

  He was grateful for the pause, and was slowly flexing his leg. Fresh oxygenated blood was flooding into the muscles, reviving them and enhancing his chances. He tightened his grip on the over sized knife and rotated his wrist, getting the feel of the unusual weapon.

  He was surprised that the Minoans hadn’t attacked. The reason for this soon materialised as he saw motion in his peripheral vision. A large wild dog crept out of the undergrowth.

  Its large head was held low from its hunched shoulders. The teeth were bared; saliva dripping from them, and its hackles were raised. Step by slow step it moved forwards. The Minoans turned to face it.

  Hildar watched as more of the pack revealed themselves, creeping out of the undergrowth to surround the Minoans. Each of the dogs stood at least three feet high at the shoulder and probably weighed as much as he did.

  He retreated further back towards the spur of rock, letting the Minoans keep the attention of the dogs. One large male swept its head to regard him for a moment before focussing its eyes and nose on the heady aroma of the Minoans.

  The dogs stalked the Minoans a step at a time, herding them closer together. The warriors held their weapons ready, ready to respond to the attack when it came.

  With a snarl one of the dogs sprang forwards, snapping low at M’Tinith. The warrior responded and his sword flashed down. The keen blade cut through the dog’s neck. The head bounced between the Minoans legs whilst the body dropped to the ground, spurting blood.

  Another dog leapt straight after the first. M’Tinith attempted to bring his sword back but the animal was too quick. Its teeth sank into the thick muscles on his forearm and immediately it began thrashing its heavy body back and forth whilst pushing itself backwards.

  M’Tinith bellowed in anger and pain and with a wrench pulled his arm back, dog and all. As he lifted the dog back within reach of his other hand it continued to shake itself, even though its hind legs were skipping on the ground.

  As M’Tinith clamped his massive left hand on the neck of the dog it gave a massive lurch of its body at the same time as it put extra effort into its heavy jaw muscles. There has a loud crack as one of the bones in the Minoan’s forearm fractured.

  Ignoring the pain the Minoan tore the dog from his arm and hoisted it over his head and dashed it to the ground. Before the stunned animal could react he stamped down on its neck. There was a resounding crunch as the windpipe and vertebrae were crushed.

  The remaining seven dogs immediately scented the bloo
d flowing from M’Tinith’ arm and closed in. He transferred his sword to his left hand and began stabbing and swinging it through tight arcs in an effort to keep them back.

  M’Dornat and M’Anhath took the opportunity to attack. Whilst the dogs’ attention was focussed on M’Tinith they stepped to one side and attacked the flanks of the dogs.

  Their assault was more of a culling as their heavy weapons slammed into first one dog then another. The Minoans attempted to despatch the animals with their first blows, but as the animals were leaping back and forth, snapping at M’Tinith the blows didn’t land cleanly.

  It was only when the third dog let out a truncated howl of pain that the rest gave up their attack and scampered away. M’Anhath caught one of the fleeing dogs across its lower back, crushing several of the vertebrae. It collapsed and looked up, whimpering as the Minoan stepped towards it.

  Ignoring the pain filled eyes looking up at him M’Anhath brought his sword up and over in a powerful blow. The blade severed the head of the dog and struck sparks on the stony ground.

  Behind him M’Dornat was despatching the rest of the injured dogs with judicious stabs of his sword whilst M’Tinith looked at Hildar who in turn watched the Minoans warily.

  M’Tinith was bleeding from numerous minor wounds. Blood was trickling steadily from the deep wounds in his arm. As Hildar watched the Minoan swayed unsteadily. Noticing the glazed look in the Minoan’s eyes Hildar darted forward and slashed out with his knife.

  M’Tinith offered no response, and blood splashed across the ground as the blade cut through his neck. Before the body had chance to fall Hildar reached out with his other hand and dragged the dagger from the sheath at the Minoans belt. He then leapt back, now armed with two blades.

  The other two looked on idly as the body of their colleague collapsed. They briefly checked to see that all the dogs were dead, and then moved in tandem towards Hildar.

  In the minute or two that the Minoans had been fighting with the dogs Hildar had gathered his breath and now felt capable of taking on his pursuers. He stepped out from the spur of rock to give himself room to manoeuvre.