Knights drew swords. Archers cranked crossbows. And the air grew electric with tension.
Napoleon eyed the sea of swords, razor sharp and ready to strike.
He eyed the crowd of crossbows, the deadly arrows aimed straight at them.
One false move and they'd be finished in a wink.
He glanced sideways at his two companions. Why doesn't the prince say something? he wondered. Why doesn't William tell them who he is? And then Napoleon realised what the problem was: they were just as scared as he was. Fear can freeze even the bravest at times.
But somebody needs to do something, Napoleon told himself. And soon!
‘The NukeBelt, SSA3? Is it recharged yet?’
‘No.’
‘Could you power up a little hologram?
‘Not possible.’
‘Just a simple one. A dragon would do, or a medieval monster. What about a gargoyle?’
‘Not possible. Still not enough energy to launch anything major.’
‘But you can escape now if you wish.’ Overlord Zero Nine's voice cut in on the Battle Watch. ‘I am activating another Exit Beam in Sector 15G.’
Napoleon saw the faintest outline of the beam from the corner of his eye. He could be safely away in a matter of seconds if he wished.
‘No, Nine. I'm not leaving Will and the prince in the lurch. Guess I'll just have to take charge of this situation myself.’
He took a deep breath and pushed up his visor.
‘Hold your fire!’ he shouted in French at the knights. ‘We come in peace.’ He nodded to the Black Prince to sheath his sword. The prince paused, but eventually did so. ‘A word with your king.’
At first the wall of knights stood solid. But then it slowly parted, the crossbows were lowered, and King Philip stepped forward.
Napoleon heaved a sigh of relief. At least the main danger was over.
‘State thy business,’ said the French king. ‘We are in the midst of a battle.’
Napoleon pointed towards the Black Prince, deciding that he could now take charge.
The Black Prince lifted his visor and spoke to King Philip.
‘We bring thee one of thy finest young warriors. He hath been our guest, and we would dearly love to keep him in our service. But honour demands that we return him to thee.’
William dismounted. He took off his helmet, then went straight to King Philip and placed the crown on his head. ‘I return this crown to its rightful place, sire.’
The King looked at William in astonishment.
Then William shook the Black Prince's hand and thanked him. Finally he turned to Napoleon.
‘Do not forget me, my friend from the future. We are brothers in time, I think.’
William pulled off his gauntlet and slipped a silver ring from his finger.
‘Take this. When you return to your time, may it remind you forever of me.’
‘It will,’ said Napoleon, clutching the ring. The Exit Beam was now glowing brightly. It was time to leave, even though part of him didn't want to go. ‘Thank you, Will.’
‘And I thank thee for returning our trusted servant,’ Philip said to the Black Prince. ‘But do not think this will weaken our resolve. We will beat thee in this battle, mark my words.’
The Black Prince laughed. ‘I think not. We will win this fray as sure as I shall be king one day.’
If only they knew, Napoleon thought as he leaned forward in the saddle. They were both wrong. The French would not win the battle. And the Black Prince would never become king.
There was something very cruel about history, Napoleon thought as he spurred his horse on.
‘Sorry. Gotta fly.’
The warhorse charged forward, and in a few long strides had reached the Exit Beam.
‘Come on, Firebrand,’ Napoleon yelled. ‘Let's go out in a blaze of glory!’
With one mighty leap, horse and rider vanished in a flash of lightning.
‘Yeehaaa!!!’
Firebrand rocketed into the mists of time like a Pegasus of light, glowing iridescent blue then blinding white before fading from sight. One moment Napoleon had a whopping great warhorse under him. The next moment he had nothing.
And a few seconds later he clattered and clanked onto the Tome Tower floor.
‘Awesome,’ he cried, standing slowly. ‘I've brought back my own set of knight's armour.’ He looked down admiringly at his outfit.
But almost at once the armour turned a dull brown and holes began to appear in it.
‘What's happening?’
‘Exactly what you'd expect with iron that is seven hundred years old,’ sneered Overlord Zero Nine on a screen in the Tome Tower. ‘It's rusting at hyper-speed.’
Even as Overlord Zero Nine spoke, the armour crumbled and fell away from Napoleon in pieces. Soon it was no more than a pile of rusty scrap metal on the floor.
‘Oh well,’ Napoleon sighed to himself. ‘At least silver doesn't rust.’ He opened his hand and smiled down at the ring he'd been holding all the while.
‘Please hurry, Agent BB005; the Overlord snapped. ‘I'm not at all pleased with how this mission has been conducted. We have a great deal to talk about as soon as you've changed.’
‘You're right about the mission,’ said Napoleon. ‘That was the worst operation I've ever been on. But you're wrong about the talk. What I've got to say won't take long at all.’
He barged through the hatch of the Tome Tower and marched straight up to Overlord Zero Nine.
‘I resign,’ he shouted.
‘What? But you can't resign.’
‘Yes I can.’ Napoleon turned on his heels and disappeared into the change cubicle.
‘Sorry, SSA3,’ he said as he peeled off the Simulation Skin. ‘Nothing personal. You tried but you're not the right skin for me.’
‘Agreed,’ SSA3 replied in its monotone voice and promptly turned a lifeless grey.
Napoleon dressed quickly and stepped out of the cubicle.
‘And you have to be the worst mission controller on the planet!’ he said as he strode past Overlord Zero Nine. ‘Goodbye!’
Napoleon sat on his bed gazing at the ring Will had given him, and wondered if he'd done the right thing.
Maybe he had been a bit hasty, resigning like that. But then there was no way he could work with Overlord Zero Nine; he just didn't trust him. Professor Perdu was tough, but he knew where he stood with her. And he liked her as well. There was nothing to like about Nine.
Besides, he couldn't operate in the field without Skin. SSA3 was just a lifeless lump of technology, and deadly dull. Skin was a friend.
Then again, if only . . .
Napoleon turned his attention to the ring, trying to get his mind off what he'd done. He rolled it around in his hand, inspecting it closely. It was badly tarnished, almost black. And yet he could see that there was something engraved on the inside, a single word.
He rubbed the ring hard to clean it, and was gradually able to make out what was written there.
Of course, William's family name.
My family are metal workers.
Will's voice was in Napoleon's head.
A forgeron is a blacksmith, or just a smith if you like.
Smith?
Napoleon was suddenly struck by something. It hit him like a bolt of lightning.
Smith! Smythe! Why hadn't he seen it before?
After all, wasn't Smythe just a fancy form of Smith?
With this thought ricocheting in Napoleon's head, the Black Prince's voice leaped in as well.
You look very alike. You could almost be brothers.
And then Will's voice was there again. We are brothers in time, I think.
That's what he'd said – brothers in time.
Oh no. No! That is ridiculous. That's impossible. It's out of this world, Napoleon told himself.
And yet, wasn't that exactly where he went every time he entered a Battle Book – out of this world and into another?
Napoleon's h
ead was so full of possible impossibilities that he nearly didn't hear his Battle Watch beep. He glanced down, and a smile burst across his face.
It was a message from Professor Perdu.
Napoleon leaped off the bed, grinning from ear to ear. He slipped the ring onto his finger and ran out the door.
YES!
These electronic editions published in 2011 by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd 1 Market Street, Sydney 2000
Copyright © Charlie Carter 2011
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Battle Boy 14: Black Prince
Charlie Carter
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