Arrowland (21 page)

As the blade was flying towards the Widow, Robert was also diving to attack one of the Widow's men. The man's reaction was slower than Robert's and all it took was a blow across the windpipe to incapacitate him. Robert dragged the soldier around, using him as a human shield as the guard opposite opened fire. The first one took the bullets, his body jerking as they exploded into him. Robert glanced up to see what had happened with the knife.

The Widow had caught it and was turning it around.

"Mary, run!" he shouted, snatching both the guard's claymore and belt-knife before letting him drop. The knife he hurled at the soldier firing in his direction, and this time it did find its mark.

The Widow was rushing forward, preventing any of her men on the opposite side of the room from getting a clean shot at Robert. Mary looked left and right, back towards the door she'd been brought through, then at Robert. "
Run!"
he yelled again, but it was already too late. The Widow had almost reached her, dagger ready to do what Robert couldn't.

He was about to hurl himself at the woman, when he remembered the other guards. He ducked in time to escape the machine-gun fire, rolling over and bringing his sword up into the first. Robert offloaded the impaled man onto the guard directly behind, who was racing towards his companion. Wood splintered around Robert as the guards opposite were now free to train their weapons on him.

Which also meant that the Widow had reached Mary.

Robert rolled again, rising and throwing his claymore at one of the guards like a javelin. He snatched another belt-knife from the closest felled guard and tossed that at another guard diagonally opposite. Ducking sideways, he grabbed one of the suits of armour, pulling that in front of him for protection against yet more machine-gun fire. Bullets sparked off the armour, dislodging the rifle it held, but did at least allow him to move back toward Mary, and the Widow.

To Robert's dismay, those archways were indeed proving a menace, as more guards - attracted by the noise - came dashing in. Pretty soon the whole damned hall would be filled with reinforcements. He had to take out the Widow right now.

Robert ran at her, throwing the empty metal suit - the only weapon he had. As good as his aim was, though, the armour hit nothing, crashing instead across the floor and into the opposite wall. That was because the Widow had already circled around behind Mary and was holding the dagger to her throat.

Weapons were being primed behind him, new soldiers swarming into the Hall. But Robert didn't care. For one thing he was in the direct line of sight of the Widow - any stray bullet might hit her as well, which he knew they couldn't risk - for another, he was more concerned about the golden blade pressed up against Mary's neck, the edge already drawing blood.

"Wait, no!" he begged. "Stop! I'll do anything you want. Just please, please don't kill her." There were tears in his eyes. The Widow looked at him, and froze. Was there still some compassion in her? Something that recognised Mary was the one for him, not her?

"All right," she told Robert. "And you'll agree to
anything
if I let her live?"

He nodded.

"Robert, no!" said Mary.

"There is still a way we can be together. It wasnae what I wanted, though." The Widow ordered her men to restrain Robert. He held up his hands willingly. It was then that both he and Mary were marched out into the open, the light almost blinding him at first. Out, up and round to the reservoir buildings, then in through a door. The Widow had obviously been busy here, the place already set up for its new purpose, away from the prying eyes of most of her army. She only allowed two men inside with her, to help with what would come next, then she bolted the door.

In front of them was what looked like a large funeral pyre. There was also some kind of pulley system that had been rigged up, attached to the walls and ceiling. Robert and Mary exchanged worried glances as they cottoned on to what was going to happen.

With guns on both him and Mary, Robert had no choice. One way or another The Widow was finding a way for him to be her King, to make his strength her own so they could be together forever. Then she went over to a trunk, bringing out several bottles of liquid. She proceeded to coat his skin with this, mixing the solutions generously.

"Cooking oil?"

She didn't reply. There was a distinct air of disappointment in her expression, like he
should
have killed Mary - and his child, if what she'd said was true.

"You and I have lived many lives," she told him. "And we
will
live on forever, whatever happens. We will
be
together."

She nodded at one of the men who took Robert by the arms - wrenching him away from Mary when all he really wanted to do was kiss her, say goodbye to her. In all the scenarios he'd played out in his mind, after all the adventures and dangers he'd faced, he'd never once pictured this one. Being eaten alive by a crazy Scottish woman who thought they were soul mates.

As he was pulled across to the ropes, his hands shoved inside them - then hauled upwards and across - he realised that the Widow had actually done worse to Mary than kill her. Now she would have to witness her husband being cooked alive, only to be devoured afterwards.

On the Widow's orders one of her guards lit the fire, as she began her damned chanting again. Must have been part of whatever process she thought would give her his soul.

He looked over at Mary. She was crying, trying to look away but not managing it. Wanting to capture his face, remember the moment - the last time she'd see him alive.

And, once again, Robert wondered how he'd gotten into this mess.

Chapter Fourteen

So far, it was mostly going according to plan.

Usually everything turned into such a mess. But not now, not this time. Twice he'd had to suffer defeat at the hands of his enemies. No more. As he drove along the road in the Eagle Armoured Vehicle Tanek thought back to his meetings with the Widow and the Dragon.

Both had gone okay, the latter more so. That Widow was going to be trouble eventually. She'd already
been
trouble as far as he was concerned, with her magic tricks and supposed clairvoyance. More co-operative had been that bloated excuse for a human being, the Dragon. Tanek had radioed in to say he was close to the man's headquarters then, after a tour of the weaponry and vehicles, he'd been escorted to the meet. The Welshman had quite an impressive set up, Tanek had to admit, but funded by the people he himself represented. Tanks, armoured vehicles, guns, all supplied by the Germans.

Both were just playing at being dictators, though. Neither the Widow nor the Dragon had the foresight, nor the clout, to pull something off like De Falaise, who'd swept up the country building an army as he'd gone. Nor did they possess the vision of the first Tsar.

If the Dragon and Widow had pooled their resources and teamed up, however, it might have been a different story.

His thoughts switched to those dreams the Widow had referenced, the promise he'd made to his former leader to watch over his child. Tanek had assumed that was Adele, who'd come out of nowhere and managed to almost cause the downfall of Hood. She'd been shot by Hood's woman, Mary, and had died in Tanek's arms - in spite of his best efforts to save her.

"Take it slow," he'd told her as the bullet finally took its toll.

"No, I must... must tell you... We have to save... He made me promise. My father."

"Promise what?"

"Save-"

"Save who?"

Her grip on his arm had tightened: "His child. My brother. My little brother."

A brother?
Could it possibly be? That somewhere out there, another child of De Falaise's existed? Tanek would have bet anything - back when betting actually meant something - that there were lots of little De Falaise bastards out there, providing, of course, that they'd retained his O-Neg blood before the virus hit. If he'd conquered women like he conquered territories, then Tanek would have quite a search on his hands. The kid - if indeed, it was still a kid - could be anywhere.

Tanek had done as he had before, after De Falaise's death: retreated abroad. He figured he stood a better chance of tracking down the Sheriff's child if he scoured Europe first. After all, that had been De Falaise's playground for quite some time. Tanek had even tried searching back in Istanbul where he'd first encountered the Frenchman, but things had changed significantly while he'd been away. So many tin-pot dictators, exactly like the Dragon and the Widow, it was unbelievable. He couldn't move without getting into a fight, or having to prove to the people there exactly who he was; though part of him was very flattered his reputation had spread.

If he hadn't been on a mission he might have stayed and showed them a thing or two, perhaps taking over a couple of their operations and building a force of his own. But he was also aware that it would be nothing compared to the armies already established in places like Germany.

He'd heard the rumours, just as everywhere else seemed to have heard rumours about him. There was some kind of new Reich starting up, not that he was any great fan of the Nazis - the whole Aryan race thing put an olive-skinned guy like him off - but if nothing else they were organised. And this version's belief system was slightly more flexible than the old guard.

That was the impression he got and the confirmation he received when he made contact with the Army of the New Order. He hadn't been able to gain access to the man in charge, but found himself talking to even more sympathetic members. One of whom had given him this gig, based on the tales about him almost taking out Robin Hood; twice! Those stories didn't go into details, thankfully, about how everything had gone to shit both times - just played up the notion that the upstart woodsman had nearly got his comeuppance at Tanek's hands. He hadn't corrected them.

As always, Tanek had been able to use that misplaced trust to his advantage. Yes, he would consent to oversee the distribution of the New Order's property to both the North and the West of what had once been known as the British Isles. Yes, he would make sure they used it wisely, with one eye on trying to eradicate Hood - an extra bonus as far as he was concerned, just so long as he got to do the deed himself. But in return he also required men and equipment to implement one of his own projects.

Because, in the time between leaving England and hooking up with the New Order, Tanek had also heard rumours about a woman De Falaise had once been acquainted with. A woman called Gwen who - for reasons beyond Tanek's comprehension - had appealed to his former leader. Tanek couldn't believe he hadn't worked it out before, the amount of time De Falaise had spent alone with her.

Tanek had lost track of the woman, but it didn't take long to pick up the trail again. He couldn't quite believe she'd been stupid enough to go back to the place where she'd first been kidnapped. Who would do that? Apparently it was because that was where the man she'd loved had been from, the man she - falsely - believed to be the father of her child. But Tanek felt sure that the son she'd borne belonged to the Frenchman. The timing, everything; it all fitted.

It hadn't taken much effort, with the resources now at Tanek's command, to pinpoint her village. And while he'd been travelling round checking on the Widow and Dragon, his men - sequestered from the New Order - had laid siege to her home. No questions asked, which was the way he liked it.

That was where he was driving to now, across country from Wales. It had taken a good few hours but he hadn't encountered any trouble. Driving the Eagle ensured you fairly safe passage.

In that time, he'd been in contact with the men on the ground - finding out what had happened during the siege. They'd begun a day or so ago, bedding in and using sniper fire to take out anyone coming and out. One jeep in particular returning from some kind of recce had been hit badly, plus a villager who'd fired on them. Ever since then they'd kept the place pinned down tight.

"I'm waiting for the 'but'," Tanek had said to the mercenary in charge, Brauer.

"Sadly, one of our men was captured."

"Tell me that was a joke," he spat down the handset, even though he knew his German comrades very rarely made those.

"I wish I could. But regrettably it is true."

"How did he get captured when your men are surrounding the fucking village?" Tanek snapped. Static was his only reply, which just made him angrier. "Just tell me your men are making progress wearing them down?"

"We will be inside within the next day. I'd stake my life on that."

"Choose your words carefully," Tanek warned him. He had killed people for much less. In fact, he had killed people for pleasure, so the thought of torturing Brauer then ending his life appealed.

"There will be progress before you arrive, Herr Tanek," he was promised. That would have to be good enough for now.

Even with the capture of one German - who knew relatively little in the great scheme of things, save for the reason they were there - Tanek felt oddly optimistic. Everything was pretty much going to his plan, the second phase of which would begin as soon as he reached New Hope.

And there was nothing and nobody to stand in his way this time.