The Ganthoran Gambit (The First Admiral Series) (2 page)

For Billy Caudwell, the battle was now focussed on the metre of Zulu front line that was taking shape before him. Nothing else mattered except for the two warriors who were standing in his way. Both were carrying black shields and wearing black loin cloths, although one was considerably taller than the other. They both carried the short-stabbing assegai, and had a strange crown-like circular hair style, that Billy had first thought was a forage cap of some kind. Seeing the European officer hurtling towards them, the taller of the Zulus was starting to go into a half crouch, projecting his shield in front of him to receive the shock of the expected attack. With his face set in grim determination, the taller Zulu was ready to make a fight of it. The shorter of the two warriors appeared less confident and more anxious. He too set himself in the half crouch, but shuffled nervously from one foot to the other.

He could see from his peripheral vision that more Zulus were flooding in through the gap in the collapsed wall. However, the Zulus were in no kind of formation to receive the British charge. The Zulus were still clustered around the entrance. Also in his line of sight was a ragged formation of screaming and shouting Natal Infantrymen; shields before them, and spears ready to plunge into Zulu flesh. Major Pulleine was about three metres to Billy’s left, and half a pace behind. With a pistol in his left hand, and a straight-bladed sabre in his right, Pulleine was racing towards the Zulu line as it began to spread out from the entrance to the position.

With his blood, and heartbeat, banging in his ears, and his breath coming in gasps, Billy Caudwell hurtled towards the enemy. Looking back at the moment after it had occurred he would scarcely be able to believe that he had led a charge straight into the teeth of a force of armed Zulus. But, the part of his mind that was Teg Skarral Portan, knew that this was the time for him to be seen leading the charge. If Billy Caudwell went forward screaming like a demented banshee, then the rest of his soldiers would follow him.

And, Billy Caudwell had timed it just right.

With a contingent of Zulus crammed into the single entrance way, and smaller groups having just clambered over other parts of the barricade, Billy Caudwell would have the numerical advantage. He also had the advantage of momentum. When the two bodies of warriors met, it would be the British who would be moving forward, and the Zulus who would be standing still.

With five more powerful strides, and one last great roar of defiance, Billy Caudwell crashed into the two Zulus he had set as his targets. He was heavier than the Zulus; more muscular, more compact, and slightly more mobile. Billy barged into the taller of the two Zulus with a huge clatter. The shock of the impact registered in his shoulder from the shield strapped to his arm. Swinging the assegai back-handed, Billy felt the satisfying jolt in his arm as the blade of the stabbing spear smashed into the skull of the smaller, more timid warrior; opening the side of his head and shattering the bones beneath. Silently, the smaller warrior’s legs seemed to fold up beneath him as he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The larger warrior, however, was still very much alive and fighting. Having been barged over, the Zulu had tumbled onto his backside under the momentum of Billy’s charge. And, just about to rise to his feet, the taller Zulu had been pinioned by a spear from one of the Natal Infantrymen behind Billy.

A look of astonishment on his face, the Zulu looked down at the spear shaft protruding from below his ribcage, and then up at Billy Caudwell who swiftly used the assegai blade to smash down onto the crown of his head.

With an incoherent scream, the Natal Infantryman twisted the spear shaft in his hand and drew the blade free from the Zulu’s intestines. With a wide-eyed gasp, the Zulu arched his back and fell backwards.

The Natal Infantryman was in the process of spitting upon and cursing his dead enemy, when a red-coated rifleman barged past them and plunged into the fray. The sheer momentum and violence of the attack had caught the Zulus by surprise, but many were still offering frantic and desperate resistance. From the feeling of invincibility and victory at having breached the British barricade, the Zulus now found themselves fighting for their lives. However, many of the Zulu warriors had been bypassed by the charge, and found themselves isolated from their comrades.

To his left, Billy saw the red-coated rifleman; with a blond moustache, as he used his bayonet to pierce a Zulu who was trying to strike him with a longer throwing spear. Having been stabbed in the chest, the Zulu screamed as his legs gave way beneath him, and the blond soldier pushed him down with the bayonet. The blond soldier, however, failed to see the Zulu behind him with the war club, and was struck on the back of the head by the new assailant. Wearing his helmet had saved the blond soldier’s life, but he fell to the ground, on his knees, dazed by the blow. With the British soldier’s helmet having been knocked off in the attack, the Zulu assailant was about to finish the blond soldier with the weighted club, when a bayonet plunged into his ribs from the right. With a scream the Zulu dropped his shield and curled over to the right where the bayonet had pierced him. With a grim face, the Natal Infantryman who had bayoneted him twisted the rifle and withdrew the blade.

The blond soldier, still dazed, grabbed his own fallen rifle as another two Zulus appeared from the press of bodies. Standing over the fallen red coat, the Natal Infantryman; who Billy recognised as the one the blond soldier had given ammunition to previously, jabbed at one Zulu with the bayonet and threatened the other, who was standing behind him, with his rifle butt. For a few tense moments, the two Zulus feigned attacks trying to distract the Natal Infantryman; who, standing side on to both of the Zulus, tried to protect the blond red coat. The Zulu to his left was equipped with a zebra hide shield and a short-stabbing assegai, whilst the one to his right carried a white shield and a war club,

It was the blond soldier who broke the stand-off. Rather than the Zulus trying to confuse and distract the Infantryman, the Infantryman had drawn the attention of the two Zulus away from the blond soldier. Having retrieved his rifle, and still on his knees, he still had sufficient mental faculties to recognise an enemy. With a half-hearted and confused lunge; holding his bayonet-tipped rifle in his right hand, he managed to pierce the upper thigh of one of the Zulus. The Zulu, taken completely by surprise, toppled over clutching his leg. The Zulu with the war club, seeing his comrade injured, took his eyes from the Infantryman for the fraction of a second that the man with the red bandana needed. With the Zulu distracted, the Infantryman moved quicker than a striking rattle-snake and plunged the bayonet straight into the Zulu’s heart. The Zulu, who was killed instantly, collapsed onto the bayonet and almost dragged it from the Infantryman’s hands. However, with a deft twist of the blade, the Natal Infantryman drew the bayonet free.

Meanwhile, the Zulu with the bayonet wound to his thigh was struggling to rise to his feet to finish off the blond soldier. Withdrawing the bayonet from the first Zulu, the Infantryman continued the backward stroke and smashed the rifle butt into the injured Zulu’s face. The Zulu, having just risen, was catapulted backwards onto his back, his ruined nose and mouth spurting blood, teeth and gore.

And, before he could react, the Infantryman had reversed his rifle and thrust the bayonet deep into the Zulu’s throat. With the three enemies dispatched, the Infantryman calmly and gently started to help the blond soldier, unsteadily, to his feet.

Making a mental note of the Infantryman’s courage, Billy returned to the battle which had sent the Zulus reeling back towards the barricade. Dropping the short-stabbing assegai, Billy drew the heavy Pryce pistol from his holster. The riflemen and the Natal Infantry were working well together. The Infantrymen with the longer spears could hold the enemy at bay whilst the riflemen could load and reload their weapons. However, this was a hand-to-hand fight, and the discipline and training of the rifleman with a bayonet was putting the redcoats roughly on a par with the Zulu warrior and his short-stabbing assegai.

The Natal Infantrymen, still hyped-up by their success in defending the wall and pushing the Zulus back, were fighting like demons. Their lifelong fear of the Zulu warrior had been shattered by the repetitive volleys of the British riflemen. They had watched the Zulus retreat; many of them for the first time in their lives, and they wanted to kill the men who had spread terror and destruction through their tribes for generations. The seemingly almighty and invincible Zulu Impis could be humbled, and the Natal Infantrymen wanted their share of the blood and glory.

With their shields and spears, they pushed and stabbed at the Zulus, forcing them into a smaller and smaller space within the confines of the British position. On the north wall and upper east and west walls the “zulu-zulu-zulu-zulu” chant was still trying to drown out the sound of battle.

The walls were holding, and on the lower parts of the east and west walls, the redcoats and Natal Infantry were rapidly pushing the Zulus back over to their own side of the barricade. The crucial point was now the gap in the south wall. In one fluid movement, Billy shoved his pistol between two struggling Natal Infantrymen, and began firing.

Draw back the hammer, squeeze the trigger and feel the recoil, draw back hammer, squeeze trigger, recoil, draw back hammer, squeeze trigger, recoil
.

Billy began to empty the pistol at point blank range into the horde of Zulus.

Beside him, Major Pulleine was doing the same thing. On the third shot, Billy barged the two exhausted Infantrymen out from in front of him, and fired the fourth bullet directly into the face of a Zulu with a white ostrich feather head-dress. The Zulu warrior’s head exploded like a ripe watermelon; spraying blood, brains and gore onto everyone within a few feet of him. The fifth and final shot went into the throat of another Zulu, who had a leopard-skin headband. Having killed the leopard-skin warrior, the bullet then passed through to the warrior behind him, lodging in his chest. Both warriors fell backwards, creating a gap in the Zulu line for Billy to exploit.

“GET THEM!!” Billy turned to the bayonet men who were following him.

The men following Billy needed no second invitation. With bayonet points to the fore, they plunged into the gap that the pistol fire had created. A gap of about two metres wide by one metre deep had been carved in the Zulu lines by the two pistols. This gap gave the bayonet men room to manoeuvre with blade and rifle butt. The hard, tough, experienced bayonet fighters went in hard and started driving the Zulus back further. Billy now plunged into the fray and found a large Zulu with a black shield in front of him. Reacting instinctively, Billy lifted his right leg and kicked the Zulu, who had raised his war club, squarely in the groin.

The Zulu doubled over instantly, allowing Billy to smash the pistol barrel onto the back of the Zulu’s head. With the warrior falling forward, Billy shoved the Zulu backwards with his right hand into the path of another warrior.

“Nice one, sir!” the corporal behind him exclaimed in admiration, as Billy pushed his bayonet into the stomach of another warrior.

The warrior collapsed over the bayonet blade, forcing the corporal to kick the body free with a loud curse. With the blade free, he swung the rifle butt at another Zulu, catching him on the lower jaw. Meanwhile, Billy had stepped over the fallen Zulu and was challenging the next warrior. The warrior moving forward, with a brown shield, raised the assegai to deliver a downwards strike to Billy’s head and shoulders. Thankfully, the move was clumsy and easily read by the part of his mind that was Teg Portan. Raising his left arm; with the shield strapped to it, Billy easily blocked the downward blow and swung backhand with the pistol he was carrying in his right hand. The cold metal of the gun barrel connected with the Zulu’s jaw, shattering it and sending him sprawling backwards into the path of more warriors.

Beside him, Billy saw Major Pulleine swinging his sabre towards a Zulu. A warrior with a long spear had tried to skewer the Major with an upward thrust from behind the shield. The Major had parried the blow with his blade, and had then smashed the sabre’s hand guard into the Zulu’s face. With the Zulu reeling, Pulleine had raised the sabre and brought the blade down through the top of the warrior’s head. The blow had finished up with the blade roughly between the Zulu’s eyes. Pulleine had then kicked the Zulu over to retrieve his blade, before moving onwards.

Dropping the pistol; which was held round his neck by a lanyard, Billy grabbed a fallen assegai. And, armed with a bladed-weapon once more, he stomped onwards through the carnage. Another warrior stood up to him; a big man with a top knot hair style, lots of strange necklaces, and a black shield. His shield came forward first; trying to knock Billy over. But, Billy was the one moving forward, and the Zulu was stationery.

With the momentum behind him, Billy shoved back at the Zulu who tried to stab him in the midriff with his stabbing assegai. Once again, Teg Portan had read the blow, and Billy parried it with the assegai in his right hand. And, before the warrior could use his vastly superior upper body strength to push Billy’s assegai aside, the red-haired teenager drew back his head and head-butted the Zulu squarely on the bridge of the nose. With a spray of blood and mucus, the Zulu lurched backwards; his eyes beginning to tear over and obstruct his vision. The Zulu then felt Billy’s assegai plunge painfully into his abdomen. With a grunt, the Zulu double over, dropping his shield. And, at that moment, Billy twisted the blade and drew the weapon upwards; ripping open the Zulu’s body cavity.