with a thrust of his own blade. Before the robed figure could do anything else, Tanek had put a crossbow bolt in his head.
Confusion reigned, as their men fired into alleys, at houses, almost at each other. It was exactly what the cult wanted — exactly what guerrilla fighters would do. Tanek tried to get Bohuslav to order a ceasefire, but they were having difficulty making themselves heard. Soldiers were going down one by one. Tanek noted a guy not far away who was suddenly clutching at his neck as a powerful geyser of wet redness jetted out, a machete blow slicing neatly across his jugular, almost slicing his neck in two. Bullets riddled the robed figures whenever they appeared, but it didn't seem to deter them. It was as if they weren't bothered about dying at all. That, if nothing else, made them extremely dangerous adversaries. In spite of himself, Tanek found that he had quite an admiration for these people.
Then, as quickly as it had started, the fighting stopped.
Someone had appeared in the street, lit by floodlights from the armoured vehicles behind — like a magician materializing on stage. A man, flanked by two smaller figures. The man wore a coat that flapped about in the chill breeze, and the leather of his uniform beneath creaked. He adjusted the peaked cap he was wearing, before standing with his hands behind his back and gazing around. The women, for as they adopted a defensive position it was plainly obvious they were of the female persuasion, held their swords horizontally, protecting the man in the middle of them.
Tanek traded glances with Bohuslav, who appeared just as surprised as he was that The Tsar was present.
The time for asking questions would come later. Right now, what interested Tanek was the stillness this man inspired. He had some balls to walk out there in the first place — looking beyond the man, Tanek realised he must have pulled up in his own private jeep — but what was causing the cult to stay their hand? His own men, Tanek could understand. They would rather shoot themselves than risk hitting their glorious leader with a stray bullet. But why were these strangers holding off? It was quite a thing to witness.
Tanek's answer came when one robed figure emerged from a side street, and began to walk up the road. Bohuslav nervously shifted from foot to foot and Tanek was half expecting him to give an order to shoot. But The Tsar was gesturing with his hand that his forces should hold their fire for now.
When The Tsar began talking, it was in Russian. He soon realised his mistake and switched to his broken style of English. 'You speak for your people, yes?' The twins were ready to spring on the figure should he put so much as a foot out of place. They needn't have worried.
'We are Servitor. When one speaks, we all speak.' The robed figure dropped to his knees before he was anywhere near The Tsar. If the Russian was surprised, then he didn't show it. 'My Lord.' The man kept his head bowed, then added: 'You are finally here.'
Tanek saw The Tsar's eyebrows raise just a fraction. 'Yes.' Whether he thought the man was simply referring to his title — after all Tanek had heard the people under The Tsar call him Lord all the time — or he actually knew what the man was referring to was unclear. But the effect was the same. 'Now call your men forth.'
The robed figure did as he was told, rising and calling to the other members of his order. There were at least twenty of them, and they came tentatively out of hiding. It was only now that Tanek, and probably Bohuslav too, realised that they could have gone on fighting for hours and not got them all, they were too good at concealment.
What The Tsar was proposing was preferable to the conflict. A truce and a joining of forces. 'We can… help each other,' The Tsar explained to the spokesman.
'Whatever you say,' he replied. He still wasn't able to look The Tsar in the face.
Later on, when Tanek had the chance to ask The Tsar about all this — and discover why he'd made the trip personally across the sea ('Like Richard the Lionheart in the Holy Land, I wished to see the 'conversion' of this country myself. And bring some additional firepower with me.') — he understood that the man hadn't quite anticipated that reaction from the cult leader.
'I was never in any danger. Apart from the twins, I had ample soldiers covering me. So I thought I might offer a proposition. I never knew they would mistake me for…'
It also meant that progress would be even quicker than they had anticipated. Soon they would be at Nottingham, at the castle's doors in fact. Tanek had persuaded The Tsar that the location was ideal for striking out at the rest of the country. It was what De Falaise once had in mind.
Soon, Hood and all those who followed him would be dead, and Tanek would be back where he belonged.
Perhaps then, his former leader's ghost would be able to rest in peace.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Robert had talked to Dale, who in turn had talked to the men, laying the groundwork.
Then, as Jack had suggested, Robert spoke to them all. He'd requested that as many Rangers who could be spared gather in the castle grounds first thing that morning. A transcript would be circulated for those who couldn't be there, and Jack was even recording it on the battery-powered tape player. Those present who could remember when he'd given the speech the night before the battle for this place, felt a certain amount of nostalgia. Tate knew their leader had been reluctant to say anything on that occasion too but, as now, he recognised that it was time to motivate.
Time to lay everything on the line.
He stood in front of the crowd of fighters, and it was obvious that looking over the swell of heads made him uncomfortable. They could see it was having another effect on him, too. The way his chest was puffing up, his eyes glassy; it could only be pride he was feeling when he looked at his loyal brigade. It made some of them, those who'd been complaining about how much work they were doing, feel more than a little ashamed.
Robert was casting his eyes down the rows, looking for someone. All those closest to him were there: Jack, Mark, Tate. All except one. Mary.
He began anyway, his voice cracking as he said his first few words: 'T-Thank you all for listening to me today, I do appreciate it. In fact, even though I don't say this as often as I should, I appreciate everything you do, and have done, not only for this… well, I suppose some might call it a peacekeeping force… but also for the people of this area and beyond. Many of you probably know already that I didn't want this mantle of command, and don't even really see myself as your chief — or whatever you want to call it. Everyone's equal here, everyone's got something unique to offer. Some of us may be more inexperienced than others.' Robert made a point of looking at Mark when he said this. 'Some of us want to make an impression.' Now he found Dale out in the audience. 'But that's fine. As someone once said to me: we're a family. And I like to sort out any problems
'Now, I know that you're tired, that some of you are doing the jobs of three or even four people. A consequence of this new world we've found ourselves in, sadly, is that it takes time to build something. To find the people we need or for them to find us. And, believe it or not, we are building something truly special here. Something that's already being talked about throughout the country, and maybe even further afield. We're keeping ordinary folk safe from the likes of the Morningstars, from thugs and murderers and rapists. I don't know about you, but I'm quite proud of that.'
There was a rumble of agreement from the crowd.
'The problem with gaining a reputation,' Robert ventured on, catching Adele's eyes briefly where she stood not far away from Jack, 'is that from time to time people are going to come and challenge us. People like the Frenchman we took this castle from; people who would destroy our homes, kill our loved ones. I'm standing up here today to tell those of you who don't already know — because I realise the rumour mill must be going into overdrive — that there's one such mobilisation heading our way. They landed about a week ago on the coast, and I'm not going to sugar coat this for you: we have it on good authority that they're well armed and in great numbers.'
