Reign of Evil

Walker turned back toward the fog and noticed that it was quickly burning off, revealing Marines and the Hunt fully engaged in battle.

Holmes didn’t have to say anything. The pilot was already turning the helicopter toward the action. The windscreen was covered with blood and gore. An ear slid free of the glass. The SEALs dropped their rifles in the cabin and drew swords and knives. Ten seconds later as the helicopter lowered to the ground they leaped out the open door, each of them finding targets.

Walker hit a huntsman, knocking him to the ground. His bow, which had been pulled back, flew from his hands, the arrow breaking as it struck the earth at an awkward angle. Walker picked himself up and swung his gladius, catching the huntsman down the length of his back. Then Walker stepped to the side and swung, severing the huntsman’s head. Instead of disappearing like the hounds had, he remained in place. He’d probably been human once.

Walker moved to his next target, another huntsman who’d just shoved a spear through a Marine’s stomach. Walker brought his gladius around again and hacked it halfway through his target’s neck. Blood spurted into the air, drenching the Marine, whom the huntsman fell against.

Laws, Holmes, and YaYa were similarly engaged, using the advantage of coming from behind to their benefit.

Beyond them Yank stood toe-to-toe with King Arthur. While the King swung a great two-handed blade, Yank swung his two blades in a dizzying Filipino weave, catching the other’s blade, deflecting it, then slicing the Tuatha with his blade.

A hound leaped at Walker and he shoved the gladius in its chest. He tried to pull it free, but the hound pulled back, jerking the weapon from his grip.

Walker had no choice but to dive to the ground and pick up a spear that had fallen. He had no idea how to use it other than to hold it out in front of him, so he did.

The hound leaped again, spearing itself just below where his gladius was stuck. Walker pushed hard against the spear, shoving the length through the beast until he could grip the end of his gladius once more. Then he jerked it free and hacked at the creature’s neck until it was no more.

Walker sought out Yank again and saw that the tables had turned. Instead of fighting King Arthur, he was now trying to defend himself from three hounds. Walker began to run to his aid, but Hoover bounded past him, as did YaYa. Walker slowed. He found himself in the middle of a quiet space as everyone fought around him.

“Walker, look out.”

He was shoved to the ground by Laws, who took the blow meant for his head. But Laws was taller, so the great sword sunk deep into his shoulder. His face immediately paled as he fell to the ground.

The stocky king pulled the sword free and swung at Walker. But he rolled to his right, managing to come up in a standing position. Somehow he still had his gladius.

“Fucking hell.” He leaped backwards, barely able to keep from getting skewered. He studied his opponent. Arthur’s crown was made of old beaten metal. His beard was cut rather than ragged. His gaze was fixed and steady. He looked just like what King Arthur should have looked like, just as if he’d walked right out of Central Casting. His armor was made from beaten plates attached to a leather background. He wore a ring on one hand and a watch on the other wrist… a watch?

Then Walker understood.

Of course. It might be the Tuathan spirit of King Arthur, but they needed a body to use in order to make him the King. This was never really about the need to have King Arthur from the days of old return. That was just the vehicle the Red Grove was going to use. Arthur was to be their tool so that they could prosecute their program of national segregation. With him would come magic and a promise of a return to proud times and in turn they’d remove all non-Britons from the country and have a beautiful white oasis of peace and prosperity.

So they had to have a human who looked like the popular ideal of Arthur.

Which meant that Walker finally had a target for his rage.

He waited until King Arthur swung, sidestepped the sweeping blade, and hacked at the right arm holding it. His blade missed taking off the arm, but it tore the skin open from wrist to elbow.

The man howled, but even as he did, the Tuatha inside of him worked its magic and the wound began to heal.

“Oh no you fucking don’t.”

Walker feinted in, then ducked back.

King Arthur switched his grip and shoved the blade at Walker. It hit his chest plate and slid to the left.

Walker trapped it with his left arm and shoved the gladius toward the King’s chest.

Instead of taking the blow, King Arthur released his grip on his sword and backed away, searching the ground for a weapon.

Walker took two steps and hacked at his opponent, missing with the first swing but catching the King on the upswing. Then he swung again and again and again, his rage and pain fueling his increasingly expert slashes.

King Arthur staggered backwards.

Walker caught his target on the shoulder.