The Humanarium 3: Revolution

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The Humanarium 3: Revolution Page 23

by C. W Tickner


  Kane grabbed Harl’s arm and pulled him into the darkness behind the door and slammed it shut.

  Chapter 38

  Food production on my plot is booming. The chickens are happy and the milking cow is thriving on the cryo animal feed. I have also found a solution for company but I need to scour the cryo deck first.

  ‘What was that about?’ Harl asked, letting his eyes adjust to the dim torches that lined the long narrow corridor. The corridor was narrow with wall mounted torches dotted at intervals that stretched the length of the battlefield. The torches were too far apart to provide a consistent amount of light and left dark patches of shadow in between.

  ‘He’s a coward.’ Kane said, as if he was explaining what One’s favourite colour was.

  Harl knew Kane wasn’t fond of fighting and in truth, neither was he but he wouldn’t shy away from it.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘When I was on duty around the perimeter corridor,’ he indicated the narrow passage they were standing in, ‘I found him hiding in here while the battle was on. No idea how he got in but you can imagine he doesn’t much like me.’

  Harl tried to look at his collar and he hoped it wasn’t red. Kane saw his attempt.

  ‘Its yellow,’ he said.

  ‘Not red?’

  Kane shook his head, ‘would be a bit tricky when we moved the bodies in here if they exploded as soon as we pulled them in.’

  Harl noticed how the floor was a dark brown as if stained with blood then poorly scrubbed clean.

  ‘All the dead are dragged through here,’ Kane said. He flexed his arm and rubbed it. ‘It’s heavy work.’

  ‘Where are they taken then?’

  Kane started down the passage. ‘There is a vent down here and we slide the bodies in. My guess is they are processed for energy.’

  ‘They still have value then?’

  ‘Not as much I would think, but perhaps enough to make it worthwhile.’

  ‘What about the injured?’

  ‘They are left in a pile outside to be healed by the Aylen.’

  ‘Like Troy?’

  Kane nodded in the gloom. ‘What I wouldn't give to get my hands on that technology.’

  Harl looked at the smooth dark stained corridor. ‘Does this passage go all around the battlefield?’

  ‘There is one on each each of the five floors.’

  ‘Where’s this hole then?’

  ‘Bottom of the table on the gold side. It’s in their half of the table and so we’ll need their permission to bring our group across.’

  A clinking came from ahead and Kane threw his back against the wall, Harl dropped down and tried to spy through the darkness. Ahead of them the tunnel widened to one side before narrowing again. A janitor was pacing around a pair of railings which sealed off the extended area. He was emptying crates onto the floor. It was only a silhouette but to Harl it seemed that whatever the janitor poured out disappeared when it touched the floor.

  The man walked away as a horn sounded dimly through the walls and a dull roar accompanied it. The battle outside had begun.

  ‘Quickly,’ Kane said, breaking into a run.

  Harl stopped when they reached the rails in the corridor. He looked down at a series of holes in the floor. A bloody hand was lying on the floor beside them and in the flickering light from a torch, a coating of blood was visible around the opening. It was a hole for putting bodies and limbs down.

  ‘Could we escape down that?’ Harl asked.

  Kane slowed. ‘I’d bet my left hand that it leads straight down to a processor. Hurry or the general will be in the middle of joining the fight and we’ll have to fight our way through to him.’

  They reached a door in the wall on their right and Kane cracked it open. ‘Have you got the cloaks?’

  Harl pulled out the brown cloaks, wrapped one around him and passed the other to Kane. ‘We’ll stand out,’ Kane said, ‘but it’s better than being in silver.’

  He pushed the door half open and peeked around. He leant back, grabbed Harl and tugged him out into the open. He shut the door just before a couple of soldiers who were busy counting spare cattle, noticed them.

  ‘Hey,’ the bigger of the two said pointing a coiled whip at them. ‘What you doing over here, ain’t you got positions to be manning?’

  Harl swallowed, grabbed Kane roughly by the back of the neck and shoved him forward.

  ‘Harl wha-’

  ‘Shut it scum,’ Harl said, doing his best to put on a fierce expression. ‘I need to speak with the general.’

  The smaller man laughed. ‘Yeah an when you do, let him know last night’s meal was shite.’

  Harl grabbed Kane’s robe, pulled it off and threw it on the floor, revealing the silver uniform underneath.

  Both men scowled as if shown a murderer.

  ‘Can’t promise a meet with the high,’ the short one said, ‘but one of his lieutenants will be about. Over there.’ He led them behind the ranks of soldiers waiting to be sent down.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Kane said.

  ‘Improvising,’ Harl muttered.

  They passed a tent overflowing with injured men, already wounded from the first clash while more dragged bloody limbs up the hillside and stumbled into the tent.

  The weapons and armour the men carried were a better quality of steel and Harl wondered how much the Aylen influenced the balance of things inside the four walls of the table. Perhaps more wins allowed them better rewards.

  Kane arched his back as Harl held him and cried out. The tall one had snapped his whip against his back, chuckling as he stumbled in Harl’s grip. Harl stopped, drew his sword and spun on the man. ‘He’s my prisoner,’ he growled, hunching forward ready to strike.

  The man looked at his short companion. Neither had blades. The short one shrugged and the tall one pushed past Kane, taking the lead.

  Harl sheathed the sword but kept his hand on the hilt. They marched to a collection of white and gold striped tents. The tall guard ducked into one and after a moment he slipped out, looking pale as milk. Four knocked aside the curtain and stepped out. Harl tightened his grip on his sword as the familiar face of the huge man stared intently at them. He was dressed in what must have been solid gold armour, only his face and hands were free of the plate-mail.

  ‘Sivar?’ he said. It was a mumble and Harl wasn’t sure what he meant. The two guards disappeared back the way they came.

  Four stepped forward and grabbed him by the arm. Harl tried to draw his sword but the grip was like a vice and a second meaty hand slapped on top of his. Harl glanced down at the hand and he saw to his horror the cloak had caught on his belt, revealing his silver trousers beneath.

  ‘Silvar!’ Four said again in a guttural cry and before Harl could twist away, a fist collided with his jaw. Four’s horrible face leered down at him until another thump struck him and the lights turned off.

  Chapter 39

  I have found him. A loyal mutt just waiting to be woken. He was disoriented and uncertain at first but has slowly come around to trusting me. I have named the dog Motley.

  A cold flood woke Harl. He was dripping wet and Four was standing over him with an empty bucket. He was under a tent and the faint sounds of battle clamoured beyond the white and gold fabric. Kane was beside him, sitting up on the ground with his hands tied behind his back and his feet bound. Harl tried to stand and toppled over face first into the mud before he realised he too was bound.

  Four made an incoherent noise and then laughed. Harl’s was about to question the sudden lack of language when the gold general standing behind him confirmed his thoughts. The man’s eyes were narrow and they scanned him from head to toe. Harl realised the brown robe had been torn off completely leaving him in bright silver.

  ‘That’s enough, Two.’ the general said.

  Two let out a disappointed grunt.

  ‘So you’re the clever one then,’ Harl said, staring up at the clone. Two shuffled forwards and gra
bbed the rope between Harl’s hands. He hauled him up and drew back his fist.

  ‘I said enough, Two,’ the general said, a dangerous edge of warning coming into his powerful voice.

  Two let go and Harl crumpled down. He just managed to get his feet under him and wobbled, fighting for his balance.

  The general took a single step forward, his gold armour was so intricate that it hurt the eye to examine. Harl cursed when he realised the pain was real and his eye was swelling.

  ‘You have one minute to explain yourselves.’ the general said, ‘I know you’re spies and I know you’re a janitor.’ He pointed to Kane’s bare neck.

  ‘We are from the silver side,’ Harl said ‘and he is a janitor. We’ve been in two battles since we were put here. Silver has sent us, he wants an alliance.’

  ‘Against who? There’s not been an uprising since bronze.’

  Harl pointed out the open tent flap at the five eager faces watching the battle raging between the hills. Harl hadn’t seen any of the Aylen above and he wondered how many worked in the building.

  Two stepped forward with a grunt and slapped Harl’s hand down.

  Gold nodded approval at his action. ‘All this time’ he said, ‘and suddenly Silver wants an alliance. He casually pulled off his plumed helmet, scratched his shaven head and clicked his fingers.

  ‘It’ll be a trap and I won’t fall for it. Kill them.’

  Two strode forward and ripped his sword from its sheath. He starred down at Kane who was waving his hands about as he sat on the floor. Two raised the blade.

  ‘No,’ Kane shrieked as the bright steel came slicing down.

  Pushing off with both tied feet, Harl threw himself into Kane and rolled him away. Twisting aside at the last moment Harl got to his feet as the blade sunk into the mud and Two roared.

  Harl readied himself to fight but with his hands and feet tied all he could do was squirm away when Two came for him.

  Gold stepped over Kane, his own sword ready to stab down.

  ‘I can remove the collars!’ Kane cried before the blade dropped. Gold stopped mid strike and raised a hand to stop Two from advancing on Harl.

  ‘I’ll indulge your lies,’ Gold said, ‘and you can die knowing you tried everything you could.’

  Kane managed to stand and held his hands out, stretching the rope between his thin wrists. Gold pointed his sword between Kane’s legs, dropped it to cut the foot rope then lifted the blade in a blur. The cord was severed and Kane reached for something in his pocket. He pulled out a small handful of crude implements. They had been made in a forge, clearly to specifications that matched the tools he used to fix things. As he stepped up to Gold the general took a pace back before Kane’s hand could touch his collar.

  ‘Don’t think you’re attempting it on me,’ Gold said. He jabbed a finger at Harl. ‘Show me on his.’

  Harl felt a cold shiver run from the base of his spine to his neck. Kane hadn’t mentioned he could do it until now and Harl begun tremble as Kane came closer.

  Kane reached out with the tool and Harl resisted the urge to slap it away as he prodded the metal box around the small green light. Harl heard a faint scratching over Kane’s heavy breathing as he shuffled even closer, his eyes fixed on the collar. His forehead was covered in beads of sweat. He didn’t look confident as his hands fidgeted out of view.

  ‘Under the plate,’ Kane muttered. ‘Positive and negative-’ Harl felt a tug as he pulled the collar. A green light was reflecting up off his sweating forehead where the pale skin met the short white hair.

  Another tug and the green changed to yellow. The battle still raged in the distance but the sound was barely audible above the clicks coming from the collar. Two and Gold shuffled backwards. Harl could feel Kane’s shook under Harl’s jaw as they toyed around his neck. Neither would survive with Kane so close, at the least Kane lose his hands. A push, a snap and the tool slipped, nicking Harl’s throat.

  ‘Dammit, Kane,’ Harl said, stepping back before Kane activated the collar and it exploded. His heart was skipping beats. Raising a finger he touched the wet spot on his neck and it came away bright red.

  Kane held up the snapped tool.

  ‘Liar,’ Two said, managing the full word with difficulty.

  ‘I can-’ Kane started but Harl didn’t let him finish.

  ‘The tools,’ he said, ‘They’re poorly made.’

  ‘What do you know about it?’ Gold asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘I was a smith a long time ago.’

  ‘Then you should work in the forges,’ Gold said. ‘I can give you a good job.’

  Harl ignored the offer. ‘He can do it with the proper tools.’

  Gold snorted. ‘You’re good at buying time,’ he said. He scratched his chin, deep in thought and a smile passed his lips as he spoke. ‘I’ll do you a deal,’ he said, ‘Silver’s best fighter against mine and in the meantime you go back and make the tools for the janitor.’

  ‘Why a fight?’ Kane asked.

  ‘Because that’s what we do,’ Gold said. ‘The watchers demand it. Two, blow the horn, recall the troops and send him back to make an offer.’ He looked at Harl, ‘your collar won’t go off and this janitor can stay here until you come back with the proper tools after the fight tomorrow.’

  Two bowed with a grunt and went over to rummage through one of the chests in the tent and pulled out a huge gold painted horn. He lumbered to the tent flap and brought the horn up to his lips.

  The noise was deeper and louder than any Harl had yet to hear on the field of these battles.

  The dull roar of swords clashing against shields faded and the Aylen staring down at them left soon after.

  ‘Go back the way you came,’ Gold said to Harl.

  ‘Don’t leave me, Harl,’ Kane said, giving him a desperate look as Two leered at him.

  ‘Give me the tools,’ Harl said, holding out a hand. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t panic.’ He glanced at Gold then back to Kane’s worried face. ‘If anything happens to you then we’ll all be stuck in collars until we’re killed or dead of old age.’

  Harl raised the tent flap and took one last look back at Kane. He nodded once and headed out. He’d save Kane or die trying.

  The door closed with a click and Harl waited for his eyes to adjust to the flickering torchlight.

  It had taken him a while to find the door on his return. An identical bloodstain had marked the trigger for the latch and all the while Two had been hounding his steps, jeering his men into action and lashing out with a whip whenever Harl slowed down. Harl touched one of the slashes down his back and then stared t the blood coating his fingers. Two would pay for it.

  He could hear Two banging on the far side, as if brute force could open it again. Some champion, he thought.

  Why did Gold insist on a fight before he’d agree? Were they so entrenched in combat that it decided every important decision?

  Whatever happened he’d make the tools and get back to Kane as soon as-. A large shadow stepped out around the railings where the corridor widened to allow access to the body vents. Harl froze.

  The man was tall and broad. Even in the dim light Harl caught the glimmer of a jagged sword. Harl reached for his own weapon and inwardly cursed when he realised he’d not retrieved it before coming back.

  When the man stepped forward into the light Harl recognised him. At first he thought Two had slipped around him somehow, but when he spoke he knew it must be One.

  ‘Harl?’ he said.

  ‘It’s me, One,’ Harl said, relaxing.

  ‘How’d you get in here?’

  ‘Gold sent me back with a reply to the alliance.’

  One sheathed his sword and turned to escort him, leading the way. ‘What happened to the janitor?’

  ‘Gold is holding him. He’s demanded a fight between champions and he won’t free him until afterwards’ Harl didn’t feel comfortable talking to One about the tools he was required to make. He would bide his time.<
br />
  One stopped. ‘When?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  One sighed and turned back on him, drawing the sword again. He shook his bald head and pursed his lips as if it was inevitable.

  ‘Wait,’ Harl said, stepping back. ‘What are you-’

  ‘Can’t have that happening,’ One said.

  Harl shuffled back again as One advanced on him. His bulk made him seem even more imposing in the confined space.

  ‘Why?’ was all Harl could manage to say as his eyes sought out something to use as a weapon.

  ‘With that Damen on the general’s special list,’ One swiped the blade in an arc in front of him, just missing Harl. ‘I won’t be in favour much longer. I can’t lose any more privileges. I know that measly janitor saw me in here last time.’ He spat on the blood stained floor. ‘Do you think anyone lasts as long as me without taking precautions? Even the general don’t know about the others of me. If you go telling him about Two then eventually he’ll figure out I ain’t One.’

  ‘You’re not?’ Harl asked, confused.

  One chuckled and adjusted his grip on the sword. ‘Nah,’ he said, ‘One died a long time ago. He was already Silver’s favourite so I took his place and that pesky kid as well. Done em both a favour. I just assumed the mantle and changed me name from Three. Was easy really.’

  Harl scanned the ground behind him, risking a backwards glance, there was nothing to help him.

  Pain seared through Harl’s arm as he turned back. One’s blade carved a slice into his forearm and he clutched the dripping wound, staggering further back as pain seared his arm.

  One said nothing as he advanced. His face was contorted in a vicious scowl as if he knew he’d said too much.

  A blur and another burning pain shot across Harl’s thigh. One was too fast for him to dodge and he collapsed backwards as his leg gave way and he fell onto his back.

  He kicked up at a third strike, connecting by sheer luck and diverting the stab. One loomed over him, a madness in his eyes, Harl guessed it would be the last thing he saw. Scrambling back he felt the lip of the body shoot and tried twisting around to throw himself down the vent but One grabbed his jerkin and dragged him back, laughing at his attempt to escape.

 

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