Broken Arrow

Blood was spurting from the suited man's stump and Dale was still on him. He lashed out with another stroke of the blade which the man had to duck to avoid. Robert heard him scream out something in his native tongue, cursing the person who'd cut off his extremity. Dale took no notice, waiting for the suited man to right himself before crouching and slashing crosswise. The man arched his body and it looked like Dale's attack had fallen short. Then more redness stained the white shirt, the bottom half of his tie falling to the ground as a slash in the fabric appeared. The man looked up at Dale, shocked, then down at this new wound.

Scrabbling back and holding his stomach, the man's face was growing paler by the second. Then he fell over, curling up in the foetal position.

Dale looked like he was about do some more damage when Robert let out a load groan, the first sickle still embedded in him.

'Hold on,' said Dale. He put down his sword and took hold of the handle of the sickle. 'Brace yourself, Robert, this is going to really hurt.' He pulled out the blade, but it felt like the metal was still inside. Then Dale took Robert's hand and got him to apply pressure to the wound, while he saw to the leg. Robert heard, rather than saw — his vision was swimming — Dale rip a piece off his sleeve, tying a tourniquet around the wounded thigh.

'Son of a… I don't believe it,' said Dale, getting up. Robert blinked and saw the blurry, suited man crawling back to the vehicle that had rammed into him. The Russian could just about move, reaching up in an effort to drag himself back into the passenger seat. Then helping hands pulled him inside, the driver setting off even before the suited man's legs were properly inside. Robert grabbed Dale with his free hand and shook his head.

'L… Leave him,' he moaned.

Dale looked at Robert, as if about to disagree with him, then nodded. 'He's half dead anyway,' said the youth. 'Let's see to you.' He began ripping more material to tie around the shoulder wound.

'How… How are…' began Robert.

Dale frowned, then worked out what he was trying to ask. 'It's pretty much over. The ones that are left seem to be scattering. We did it, we held them back.'

Robert let out a breath, fighting to hang on to consciousness. His grip on the young man's arm tightened. 'You… You have to gather the men…'

'I don't understand.'

'Get… get them together… There's… there's another…' Robert forced the words out. 'Another army heading for the castle… Tanek must be with them…'

'Fuck,' Dale said quietly. 'Okay, we can deal. Let's just get you sorted out first.'

Another squeeze of Dale's arm, with all the strength Robert could muster. 'Leave me.'

'I… we can't do that, Robert.'

'Leave me… Get to the castle… Mary… promise me… Mary…' Then his grip relaxed and Dale's features disappeared completely, fading from view. He'd been here before, when he'd been caught in an explosion, fighting De Falaise's men at Mary's farm.

Mary again.

He'd been saved by her that time. But now she was the one in trouble.

In the blackness, Robert heard Dale arguing with someone, with several voices, telling them they had to go.

Dale was following orders, just as he always did. Doing what Robert asked of him. 'We'll send back help,' were the last words Robert heard him say.

Then there was nothing but stillness — that and the smell of the English countryside — as he lost his grasp on consciousness completely.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The first sign that something was wrong came when they lost contact with the sentries on the outskirts of the city.

'Could just be a fault in the radio equipment,' Jack said to Mary when he visited her room, but the look on his face told her he didn't believe that for a second. When Robert's teams had originally infiltrated Nottingham, they'd kept up the pretence that the guards were still on duty, to retain the element of surprise. If the lookouts really were gone, then it showed that whoever was on their way didn't care whether they knew or not. 'But I've already begun spreading the word among the men, just in case,' Jack continued.

'We'd better gather people together,' Mary told him, 'Just give me a second.' That second had been to grab a coat and fish out her father's precious old Peacekeeper revolvers, along with the bullets she had left. Robert hadn't even bothered asking her to give them up, as he knew what the answer would be. 'Okay,' she said, and they walked out together along the corridor.

Tate and Gwen hadn't been hard to find, they were still arguing down below.

'The fact remains, you got me here under false pretences! I thought better of you, Reverend.' The auburn- haired woman was holding her baby in one arm, and jabbing a free finger in Tate's face.

'I never said anything about you taking more weapons back to Hope.'

'New Hope,' she reminded him. 'We have all the food we need, what else was I expected to think?

'But you know, as well as I, Robert's feelings.'

'Screw Robert. He's leaving my people out there defenceless!' snapped the woman, then caught sight of Mary and Jack from the corner of her eye. She stopped her rant, but didn't apologise.

Tate shook his head. 'I only did this out of the best of intentions. Robert has gone to tackle this new threat, and I thought you'd be safest here.'

'You may have underestimated exactly how safe we are,' Mary told the holy man.

Jack explained about the lookouts to the baffled Tate.

'Then we need to break out those weapons right away!' Gwen said. 'Start handing them out to your men and-'

'The men are capable of defending themselves regardless' said Mary.

Gwen rounded on her. 'I thought you out of all of them had some sense, Mary.'

'I do,' she replied.

'And what's that tucked away there, a peashooter?' Gwen aimed her finger at Mary's belt, where one gun was stuffed in the front, the other out of sight round the back.

'That's different, it belonged to…' Mary didn't have time for this. 'Look, have you seen Mark? We all need to stick together, keep inside the castle.

'And Adele,' Jack said. 'Have you seen her?'

Mary wasn't actually that bothered where she was.

'Last time I saw Mark, he was with Sophie outside,' Tate informed them.

'Right,' Mary said, making for the nearest exit and shrugging on her coat.

'Mary, let me-' Jack began, but she was gone before he had time to finish.

Outside, Mary looked for Mark and Sophie. She made her way around the castle, coming up with nothing. As she was about to make another pass, she stopped. Something was amiss. You didn't live somewhere for over a year — especially somewhere they'd originally taken over — without noticing subtle differences in your surroundings. This one, however small, was big in other ways.

The lock had been broken on one of the gates leading to the caves, the gate itself slightly ajar.

'Gwen…' Mary muttered to herself. She'd noticed a real difference in the woman since she'd returned to the castle, since she'd set herself up as a leader in her own right at New Hope. Mary had got to know her a little during the later stages of her pregnancy, during and after the birth, but the woman who'd driven in here late yesterday had been barely recognisable. She made some allowance for the fact that Gwen was being forced to return to the place where she had once been held captive. But it was more than that, Mary could see it in her eyes. They were colder, the determination she'd exhibited when she left had intensified a hundredfold.

Now she'd taken not a blind bit of notice of what Mary had said, gone down to retrieve the weapons anyway in spite of Robert's instructions. At first Mary hadn't really understood this herself, surely it did make sense — as Bill