The Enemy

Achilleus just managed to jerk his head to the side in time. One of the knives raked his cheek, though, and cut his ear half off. Then some instinct told him to lift his shield and in the tangle another of John’s blades broke.

He was down to one now.

But one was still enough to kill.

Achilleus shook his head and blinked. His eyes were red and burning. Feverish. He was losing a lot of blood. His ear was hanging off.

He was a wreck.

John was gri

‘Had enough?’ he asked. ‘You want to surrender? You want to give in?’

Achilleus smiled back at him. John didn’t know it, but he had shown his first hint of weakness. To offer Achilleus surrender meant that somewhere in the back of his mind he maybe didn’t want to take this fight all the way. There was something making him hold back just that tiny bit.

He didn’t want to kill Achilleus.

Filled with a fresh burst of energy, Achilleus gripped his spear underarm halfway down the shaft so that it was perfectly in balance, the point towards John. He arced it up from his knees towards John’s heart. John blocked it, but the momentum of Achilleus’ swing brought the point back and round so that the blunt end of his spear was now towards John. Achilleus swung the spear quickly back in the same arc as his initial thrust, sweeping in towards John from his blind right side. The side that was unprotected by his shield. The pommel punched into John’s shoulder and he cursed. It wasn’t enough to make him drop his spear, but he was rattled.

Achilleus now set up a regular attacking rhythm. A slice up with the point, a punch down with the pommel on the return swing. Steady and solid like a machine. Not giving John time to gather himself and respond properly. At first he was thrown, blocking, ducking and weaving, always on the back foot. It gradually dawned on him, however, that Achilleus’ attack was the same each time. His swing the same length. Holding the spear halfway along the shaft meant that his reach wasn’t too great. John only had to step back each time and the spear swished harmlessly past in front of him. Achilleus could keep it up for as long as he wanted. He’d get exhausted long before John. John let him come on, swinging away. Then he would step lightly back to keep out of reach. He had always known that he had the longer arms.

He didn’t smile now. He didn’t want Achilleus to know that he had the measure of him, that Achilleus’ strikes were useless.

‘What’s he doing?’ said Mick. ‘He can’t get near to John. He’s just walking out the way.’

‘That blow to the head must have shaken his brain loose, man,’ said Lewis. ‘I can’t watch. It’s embarrassing.’

Still Achilleus plodded on. Slicing up and clubbing down. Like a nerd with a playground bully, goaded to fight, and swinging his arms in useless silly punches. John was growing more relaxed with each swing. More sure of himself.

Sure of victory.

Even Maxie could see that Achilleus’ plan wasn’t working. John was taking the piss, letting Achilleus wear himself out, hardly even bothering to counter-attack, just offering the odd contemptuous poke with his longer spear. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t watch any more. She knew it now. Achilleus was going to get killed.

Still Achilleus swung away – up down up down. He stumbled, blood pouring down his face, his ruined ear flapping.

John smiled at last as his cockiness got the better of him. He lowered his shield and spear, mocking Achilleus, exposing himself, as if to say – ‘Look at me. You can’t get anywhere near me.’ He sneered at Achilleus and gave a dismissive click of his tongue.

Achilleus was ready. It was time to finish it. On the upswing, as the point of his spear lanced back over his shoulder, he loosened his grip, letting the shaft run through his fingers. As it slid to the end and he felt the pommel, he gripped tight again. He now had the full length of the spear in his grasp and he swung it round in a wide circle.

Instead of Achilleus’ reach being a metre, it was now nearer to two, and the sharp end of the spear easily reached John’s head.

It happened too fast for John to react. He had no idea what Achilleus had done. He stood there, casually expecting the spear to be out of range. And then the spear slammed into the side of his head. He staggered drunkenly, shocked and stu

‘That was for Freak,’ said Achilleus.

John lay there without moving.

A great cheer went up from the palace kids and a groan of disappointment came from the little knot of squatters. It was over so quickly in the end.

Achilleus stood over John, sucking in oxygen, his chest heaving. He rolled the body over with his foot.

John was conscious, but his black eyes were swollen shut. The bandage had fallen completely off his nose, which was a horrible flattened mess.

Achilleus put the point of his spear to John’s stomach, pushing it into the soft flesh.

John winced.

‘Do it then,’ he said. ‘Kill me.’

‘Nah,’ said Achilleus. ‘You’re already dead. Nobody remembers a loser.’

‘Kill me!’ John yelled.

Achilleus gave his spear a little push and John gasped.

‘You really want me to? You know how slowly you’ll die if I stick you in the stomach? You really want me to shove my spear into you and spill your crappy guts all over the floor? Hmm? Do you? You really want that, big man?’

‘No,’ said John quietly. ‘No, I don’t. Please don’t. I don’t want to die.’

‘Who does?’ Achilleus knelt down. He put his face very close to John’s. Dripping blood on to it.

‘And this is for me,’ he said and kissed John full on the lips.

The palace kids laughed as Achilleus stood up. Carl the pirate went over to John and helped him to his feet. His legs were like rubber.

Achilleus looked at David.

‘You got what you wanted, David. They ain’t backing out of this.’

David shouted at the squatters.

‘Do we have a deal?’

‘Guess so,’ said Carl.

‘Yeah,’ said John. ‘You’ve got your bloody deal.’

Achilleus faltered and nearly fell. Maeve and Maxie ran to him and steadied him on either side. Maeve already had a bandage ready and she began to wind it round Achilleus’ head. Achilleus tried to push her away, but he was too weak.

‘I’m all right,’ he slurred. And he once again looked at David and the palace kids.

‘Remember what I done for you here today,’ he shouted and passed out.

56

‘Are you satisfied? Freak dead, Achilleus nearly killed as well. Are you so damned keen to become emperor of bloody London that you don’t care one bit about our kids at all?’

‘Your kids?’

‘Yes, our kids.’

Maxie and David were standing on the balcony above the parade ground at the front of the palace. A bright moon was shining through a break in the clouds. The streets and rooftops and trees, still wet from the earlier rain, were streaked with silver.

‘We’re all in this together now, Maxie,’ said David, in that a

‘I’m not sure I want to be on your team, David.’