Simon Green - A Hard Day's Knight

Kae gave the order to mount up, and the knights were quickly in their saddles. And despite what we’ve all seen in films, they didn’t need little step-ladders, or have to be lowered onto the backs of their horses. The London Knights had spent most of their lives learning how to move easily in their armour. They mounted their horses as though it was something they did every day of their lives, and for all I know, they did. They put on their plumed helmets and immediately became anonymous and coldly intimidating. The horses bore the weight easily. Many of them were stamping their hoofs on the cobbled ground, impatient to be off.

Suzie and I had been given our own horses, so we wouldn’t be left behind. I’d been assured they were very old, very calm horses, with excellent manners. I got up into the saddle with a little help from a groom who happened to be passing. Suzie vaulted up with more enthusiasm than grace, and looked round her proudly. Kae steered his horse in beside me, on his way to somewhere more important. He was in full armour, and it suited him far more than the grey suit ever had.

“Try to keep up and don’t get in the way.”

He was gone before I could come up with a suitably cutting rejoinder. I took the reins in a firm grasp to show the horse I knew what I was doing. He turned his great head all the way round, gave me a long, thoughtful stare, and turned his head away again.

“You have to let him know who’s in charge,” said Suzie.

“I think he already knows,” I said.

Kae brought forward a massive white charger for Arthur, almost half as big again as all the other horses. Arthur smiled and patted the horse on its muzzle, and I swear the horse actually bowed its head to him. Arthur had that effect on everyone. He swung easily up and onto the saddle, took the reins in one mailed hand, and then raised his free hand. Immediately, every sound in the courtyard cut off. Even the horses fell silent.

“It is time,” said Arthur. “Open the gateway, Kae. We ride to battle.”

Kae stood up in his stirrups and made a series of quick, abrupt mystical gestures at the far end of the courtyard. He looked every inch the brutal warrior who’d come so close to killing Suzie and me, back in the sixth-century Strangefellows. I trusted Arthur, but I still wasn’t entirely sure about Kae. I’d liked him a lot better when he was pretending to be Sir Gareth. I missed Gareth; I felt I understood him a lot better than I did Kae. But was Sir Gareth a mask worn by Kae; or was it possibly the other way round? I’d find out soon enough. Nothing like going to war to show you who people really are.

Arthur urged his horse forward, Kae right there at his side. The many ranks of mounted knights moved silently after him; and Suzie and I brought up the rear. Everyone else had disappeared from the courtyard. They’d done everything they could. The only sound was the steady rumble of thunder as hundreds of horses moved across the cobbled ground. A giant doorway stood before us, a simple door-frame some thirty feet tall and twenty wide, full of swirling mists, exactly like the one Prince Gaylord the Damned and his dark knights used, back in Sinister Albion. I think I would have said ... something, but Arthur drew Excalibur from its scabbard, the long blade blazing brightly against the gloom. He urged his horse forward and plunged into the open doorway, and all the army went with him.

And that was how the London Knights went to war with the elves in the Nightside.

A thousand knights in armour thundered through the streets of the Nightside, leaning out of the saddle to strike at the startled elves, caught by surprise in midslaughter. The doorway had delivered us right into the heart of battle, and the knights rode the elves down, trampling them under their horses’ hoofs. Long swords cut off heads and hacked elves down with vicious speed and accuracy. Some elves turned to fight, but it was already too late for them. The London Knights had come to the Nightside for blood, and the elves didn’t stand a chance.

Suzie and I were the last through the gateway, which immediately disappeared behind us. It was all I could do to stay on my horse, and Suzie couldn’t free a hand to draw any of her guns. I didn’t feel like I was in charge of anything any more, and that always worries me.

The Nightside was a mess. Buildings were burning all round us, flames leaping up into the smoke-filled sky. The street was littered with the dead, and the gutters ran thick with blood and gore. The elves had been busy. Bodies had been mutilated and strung up from street-lights by their own intestines. There were neat little piles of hands and feet and hearts. The elves do so love to play. And these were the elves I’d planned to save. The elves I’d found a new home for. Right then, if I could have pressed a button and sent every elf there ever was to Hell, I would have done it.

We slammed through elves caught off guard in the street, leaving them dead and dying behind us. We pressed on, charging through the streets in an unstoppable tide, carrying all before us. We soon caught up with the real action. People had set up barricades across a main street, improvised from anything handy, including bodies, and had fought the elven forces to a halt. The traffic had disappeared from the roads, moving along hidden by-ways until the fighting was over. There were dead men and dead elves everywhere, and some of them had died with their hands locked around each other’s throats. There was blood and offal and charred corpses, and bodies turned inside out by horrid magics. Both sides looked round startled, as the London Knights came thundering towards them.

The mounted knights slammed into the massed hordes of the elves before them, throwing them aside and trampling them under hoof. Some elves turned quickly to face the new threat, brandishing all kinds of glowing weapons. They danced and capered amongst the bodies of those they’d slain, mocking the approaching knights, defying them to do anything about all the horrid things they’d done and the worse things they planned to do. They wore strangely designed brass-and-silver armour, crackling with protective spells, and their pale faces were tattooed with hideous designs. They were delighted to be fighting their old enemy Man again. They had forgotten how much they enjoyed killing people and playing their vicious games with them. The knights rode straight at them, roaring war cries booming inside their steel helmets, and the elves darted aside at the last moment, laughing and leaping high into the air, to pull the knights out of their saddles. Elves and knights went blade to blade, both sides eager for blood and honour and the vicious joys of battle.

The elves threw spells that exploded harmlessly against the knights’ armour. They had their own built-in protections. The elves came howling, bearing strange alien weapons and devices, and wild destructive energies spat and crackled in the air; but still they couldn’t pierce the knights’ armour. So the elves drew their glowing swords and cut and hacked at the knights; and even the most modern armour was sometimes no defence against such ancient weapons.

The elves jumped onto the backs of horses, hugged the knights to them, and forced their blades into the gap between helmet and breast-plate. Blood jetted into the night air, the knights fell from their horses, and the elves leapt away, laughing breathlessly. Some of the elves ducked in low, to cut at horses’ throats and legs, and were mostly met with a forceful hoof in the face. These were war-horses, trained for battle.

From the shadows some elves fired strangely glowing arrows that nothing could stop.

The knights’ advance was quickly slowed, then halted. And they hacked and cut about them with their great swords and axes, and most of the time even the best elven armour was no match for cold steel, coldly wielded. The knights leaned out from their horses to cut off heads, or arms, or stab a chest or throat in passing; and golden blood spurted out, to hang on the air and run in the gutters along with redder blood. Two elves leapt up and grabbed a horse’s head, forcing it to a halt. The knight leapt out of his saddle, hit the ground running, beheaded one elf, and cut down the other, his blade sinking deep into the elf’s chest. He’d barely pulled his sword free when a dozen other elves came running straight at him. Another knight leapt from his horse to guard his brother’s back, and the two knights stood together and killed every living thing that came at them.