Part 15 (2/2)

Henk's eyes widened in shock, noticing too late as the loading arm swept towards him, carrying its insanely grinning payload. The two bodies slammed into one another, and the next thing Henk knew he was on the deck, tangled beneath a ma.s.s of bony limbs and an enormously long overcoat. He kicked hard, his boot connecting with the Doctor's chest, sending the interfering fool flying. Henk scrambled to his feet, blaster in hand, and waved it menacingly in the Doctor's direction.

'I've just about had enough of you,' Henk shouted wildly, his face crimson, the personification of rage. Flecks of saliva flew from his mouth, as he poured all his anger and frustration towards the Doctor. 'Do you have 214.

any idea how much money I could have made out of this little number? Do you? Between you and that rancid Krillitane witch, you've ruined everything. Everything.'

Sprawled on the deck, the Doctor looked angrily back at Henk.

'What you were doing was wrong. Beyond unethical. What's worse, Febron knew it and still carried on. The Krillitanes are sentient beings.

Whatever they've done, however ruthless they are, they still have rights.'

'I couldn't give a Pescaton's scaly fin for Krillitane rights. No amount of ethics will buy you your own solar system, Doctor. For all I care, they can kill each other and any stinking Earthling that gets in their way. But you know what? You, I'm going to take great pleasure in killing myself.'

With a cold, unpleasant sneer, Henk raised his blaster and took aim.

Unaware of events transpiring within the Cathedral, the Krillitane horde had overcome Captain Darke's defensive forces, thundering onwards over the bodies of the dead.

'Captain, they've breached the wall,' shouted one of the men, as Darke wearily pulled his sword from the belly of a felled beast, one of so many they had slain. The Krillitanes surely hadn't expected to encounter such a spirited opposition, he reflected, proud of his men.

A hiss, terrifyingly close, alerted the Captain to another attack, and he swung round to find a Krillitane bearing down upon him, fangs glistening. He stumbled backwards, struggling to lift his sword, but there was no 215.

time. Then, with a thump and a whimper, the creature tumbled to one side, a pike embedded in its back. Darke breathed a sigh of relief, as young Miller retrieved the weapon that had just saved his life. They took refuge behind its lifeless body.

Exhausted, Miller panted, 'What shall we do? There are too many off them.'

'Keep your head up, lad. We're not finished yet,' Darke rea.s.sured him. But the young man was right: they were vastly outnumbered, and clearly this line of defence had failed. Yet even with the casualties they had suffered, they had brought down a great many Krillitanes, and the Captain drew strength from that fact. 'However bad this gets, these beasts are not invincible.'

Already the last of the Krillitanes were at the wall, scaling it with ease and moving onto the buildings beyond. The battle would have to move on, into the city.

'Miller, find any of the men who can still fight. We need to regroup, chase the devils down and attack them from behind, while our secondary line engages them at the High Street.'

'Sir.' Miller got to his feet and made off towards the gate, where a few of the troops were already gathering.

Darke dragged himself up and began to follow Miller, but he'd barely gone five paces when a new sound echoed from within the Cathedral, a howl, deeper and more threatening than the bat-like hiss of the Krillitanes. Miller and the other men heard it too, and looked to their commander, unsure what to do.

216.

The Captain tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, listening, waiting for any sign of the source of that tremendous noise. For a moment there was nothing, save for the deafening silence that followed all battles, and then the howl rang out again, closer this time. Much closer.

Toch'Lu pitched and took another dive at the Esteemed Father, but her strike was parried by the larger Krillitane, and he slashed at her right wing, claws ripping through the thin web of skin as she flew past. The wing was ruined, little more than shredded rags, and it was all Toch'Lu could do to remain in the air long enough to find her footing on the sloping roof without smas.h.i.+ng into it.

'If your forebears could only witness the lack of respect you show the Beast of Bessan, they would be ashamed,' the Esteemed Father snarled, stalking Toch'Lu as she fought to regain her balance. 'Your generation, so thrilled with the power of flight, you think those wings are a mark of your superiority.'

They are a symbol of progress, of the future, to those of us who recognise the true destiny of the Krillitanes,' Toch'Lu snapped back, edging towards the apex of the tower, desperate to retain some tactical advantage over her rival by holding the upper ground.

The Esteemed Father feigned a lunge at his opponent, gaining a little ground on her in the process. 'Destiny? We live to hunt and kill and conquer. What greater destiny is there?'

217.

'But we could be so much more. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?' They had had this argument before, many times, but Toch'Lu was desperate to make him understand. 'We, alone in the universe, have the power to shape our physical form, yet we are capricious, fickle, adopting attributes such as these wings on a whim, because they delight us. It is time we used our ability to discover our ultimate form, the physical embodiment of everything the G.o.ds created us to be.'

'Do not presume to lecture me on the will of the G.o.ds. I am the Esteemed Father, Guardian of the Faith, the twelfth-born of the twelfth-born, as it ever shall be, as it ever was. I am the servant of the G.o.ds. I am the destiny of the Krillitanes.'

'You are blinded by dogma and enthralled by your own self-importance,' the Brood Mother retorted. 'Your time has pa.s.sed, cousin. The Krillitanes must follow a new path.'

'And you would lead them?' The Esteemed Father made no attempt to hide his disdain, but there was a wildness in Toch'Lu's gaze that unsettled him, a look of ideological fervour.

'Still you do not understand. My followers and I have no interest in personal gain, or the attainment of power. We merely wish to shepherd the Krillitane race in its endeavour to reach our fullest potential. The destiny of the Krillitanes is not to serve the G.o.ds, but to replace them.'

'As the embodiment of the will of the ancient G.o.ds, I 218 218 cannot allow that.' For the first time there was no malice in the Esteemed Father's tone, just a dry, unequivocal statement of fact.

Then it is your time to die,' hissed Toch'Lu, and with a screech of fury she launched herself at her adversary, bringing both of them cras.h.i.+ng onto the tiles.

Clawing and biting, the combatants bounced across the roof, rolling down towards the edge. Toch'Lu continued her frenzied attack as they tumbled, oblivious to the vicious blows the Esteemed Father dealt her. She was determined to pull him over the edge, even though the fall would certainly kill them both. Her life was unimportant. She would face her final judgement secure in the knowledge that she had sent the Krillitanes upon the path of progress.

Realising her plan, the Esteemed Father abandoned any effort to defend himself and instead scrabbled to grab hold of something, anything that would halt their descent. Tiles splintered as his claws tore through them, but he was powerless to halt their inexorable descent. As the world spun around him he saw it was too late, and they shot over the edge, falling, plummeting downwards.

With a wrench, sudden pain shot through the Esteemed Father's shoulder, ripping through muscles and tendons like jagged gla.s.s. By some miracle, their fall had been interrupted.

Toch'Lu hung from his waist, the claws of one hand digging into the flesh above his hip. He looked upwards, ignoring the agony, curious as to who had saved him.

219.

Broken Wing returned his gaze, then looked towards Toch'Lu. Her face was calm, at peace, ready. It was time. The Krillitane released his grip on the Cathedral's stone facade, and the three of them fell, together.

220.

SIXTEEN.

*he Krillitanes spread across the city like a virulent _ plague, a Ttorrent of grey-brown bodies crawling through every gap, every possible hiding place in their hunt for the traitor. They moved northwards at speed, through empty houses where breakfasts had been left on tables, fires still burning in hearths, until they caught up with the stragglers, the old and the weak, those unable to flee in time.

Then the Krillitanes feasted.

There was little Butcher and his men could do to help, except carry out their orders to evacuate, but the panic spread too quickly for the soldiers to contain it, and the streets flooded with screaming people, running wildly, praying, or simply falling to their knees, waiting for the hounds of h.e.l.l to drag them into the underworld.

Butcher came to an inn, recognising it as one where 221 221 he had spent more than a few bawdy evenings. He tried the door, but it was locked. The publican was a good man, but his wife was a stubborn sort. He'd wager she wouldn't want to leave. 'John, are you in there? Open up. You must leave at once. Your lives are in danger.'

John Garrud's m.u.f.fled voice came from the other side. 'We aren't going anywhere. Leave us alone.'

The soldier looked back along the street. The Captain's plan had stalled the progress of these dastardly invaders as long as it could, but now all was lost. If he could just save this one last household...

'You'll die if you don't come with me right now.' But his pleas were met with stoic silence.

He heard a disturbance, the clatter of pots and pans being thrown aside, back along the street in a house he had already checked was clear. They were close. Too close for him to escape. Butcher unsheathed his sword, resolving to make a stand. He didn't have to wait long.

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