The Ganthoran Gambit (The First Admiral Series) (3 page)

“I’ll bet your mother didn’t teach you that one!” Billy cursed the dying Zulu and moved on.

For the first time, Billy felt warm blood on his hands as the Zulu died with his intestines flowing out from his body. This was the kind of fighting where you saw the enemy’s eyes up close, felt the blood as it was spilled, and smelt your enemy’s last breath as he perished. The part of his mind that was Teg Portan had now become dominant as Billy stepped over another Zulu corpse, looking for more blood to spill.

Around him, the clang of metal on metal, the shouting and screaming associated with the fierce battle, was suddenly heightened as the Bayonet Group tore a path through the Zulus and headed for the breach in the south wall. Billy was oblivious to his surroundings; the sounds of battle, the smell of blood, sweat, and fear. Everything was focussed on the few feet of fierce battle in front of him.

Next to him, on his right, a bayonet slammed forward, over his shoulder, catching a Zulu with a white headband just below the collarbone. The Zulu screamed and fell sideways onto a redcoat from Billy’s Bayonet Group. Caught off balance, the redcoat received a blow to his shoulder from a war club from the Zulu in front of him.

By sheer instinct, the redcoat rammed the rifle and bayonet forward; catching the Zulu in the midriff, before losing the rifle in the press of bodies and reeling back, clutching his shattered upper arm. To his left, a rifle banged. The Zulu was hit in the chest at close range, throwing him backwards against two of his comrades.

Seeing the opportunity, Billy barged in, the shield forward, and the assegai held back at his waist. A war club was suddenly swung at him. Instinctively, the left arm was raised, with the impact from the club being absorbed by the toughened animal skin hide. With the Zulu committed to the blow, his midriff was defenceless. And, once again, Billy thrust his right arm forward, using his legs and shoulders to drive home the thrust and felt the heavy assegai blade slide smoothly through skin and muscle. The Zulu grunted, and fell away from Billy and onto a Natal Infantryman with an assegai buried in his chest.

Again, Billy stamped forward over the fallen bodies. Another Zulu in the press of bodies appeared in front of Billy. He was an older man with one good eye. The injured eye looked glassy and milky beneath the brown head dress. With yellowing teeth, he smiled an evil grin at Billy Caudwell. And, as he smiled, the old Zulu rammed his shield forward, whilst, at the same time swinging the stabbing assegai downwards at Billy’s head. Through sheer animal reflex, Billy barged forward, meeting the blow from the shield with his own shielded left arm. Raising his right arm, Billy met the downward slash of the assegai with his own blade. The two blades clanged heavily, and sparked as they clashed.

The shock from the blow ran up Billy’s arm, but he held firm, pushing the attacking blade away from him. With his arm forced away, the old warrior’s eyes widened with terror as Billy’s assegai blade returned and slashed into the side of his neck. Opening the arteries on the Zulu’s neck, blood splashed in three surging pumps before the old warrior’s eyes flickered, closed, and he fell to the ground.

His right arm sheeted with blood, Billy stamped forward again and was challenged by a massive warrior with a war club. The huge, rotund warrior was in a white loin cloth with a matching shield and headband. Beside him lay two dead Natal Infantryman, and a third was about to join them after sustaining a fatal blow to his skull. Yelling, the massive Zulu swung the war club and clambered over a fallen redcoat to reach Billy. On the attack, Billy stormed forward to meet this giant of a man. The Zulu’s legs were as thick as tree trunks and his chest like a great barrel. Billy raised his shield arm, and caught the blow. To Billy, it felt like his arm had been hit by a moving bus as he was sent sprawling to the ground. The Zulu, having launched the blow, was now over-balanced and received a rifle butt to the side of the head from a bare-footed Native cavalryman. The giant Zulu lurched forward, shook his head, and smashed his shield into the cavalryman who was swept off his feet. Billy, well aware that sitting on his backside in a melee was not a safe thing to do, promptly clambered to his feet as the Zulu strode towards him.

Once again, the part of his mind that was Teg Portan came to his rescue. The Zulu steadily approached Billy, his massive body rippling with every step. Billy darted forward to meet the giant, his shield raised. The giant, seeing the young teenager darting towards him raised his war club and struck downwards. Anticipating the blow, Billy had ducked at the last moment and twisted to his left, brushing against the huge white shield carried by the Zulu.

Having gotten past the shield, Billy slashed at the giant’s huge legs with the blade of the assegai. The blade connected with the rear of the giant’s knee; slashing tendons and blood vessels alike.

With a searing pain in his right knee, the giant bellowed like a wounded ox and collapsed to the ground, where an instant later two redcoats plunged their bayonets into his broad, muscular back. For a moment, the huge Zulu lurched and shuddered on the ground, and then fell still and silent.

Turning again, Billy encountered a small wiry Zulu with an assegai. The small, wiry man stabbed at Billy. But, Billy easily caught the blow on his shield and fended it away, whilst jabbing his own assegai upward. The upwards blow caught the wiry Zulu just behind the chin. The viciously sharp blade passed through the skin of the neck, through his tongue, the roof of his mouth and into the base of his brain, killing him instantly.

However, as Billy tried to retrieve the blade form the falling Zulu, he felt a sharp, searing pain in his left arm. For a split-second, he saw the blade of a long throwing spear being withdrawn from the tear in his uniform sleeve. Billy yelped and let go of the assegai buried in the wiry Zulu’s head. Beside him, another rifle banged and the spear blade fell away as the holder was flung backward. Grabbing his left arm with his right hand, Billy stumbled clear of the melee; losing his helmet in the process, and lurched forward onto the ground, next to the huge Zulu he had disabled only a few seconds before.

“Go on, lads, into them!” a British voice called and three pairs of booted feet in blue trousers ran past him.

“You all right, sir?” the same voice said, crouching down next to Billy.

Unable to speak, Billy nodded his head and waved away the red-coated figure, who was a Sergeant in the 24
th
.

“You! Over there! Come ‘ere and give this Officer a hand!” the sergeant yelled.

Rolling over onto his back, Billy could see the bright African sun against the blue sky, and for a moment, it dazzled him. Taking a deep breath, Billy winced as the burning pain shot from his arm across to his shoulder.

“It’s the colonel!” another voice called and helped Billy sit up.

“We’d best tell Major Pulleine,” the sergeant said.

“NO!” Billy shouted, “No, sergeant, it’s just a scratch, just let me rest a minute and help me get up,”

“Looks like a bit more than a scratch, can you still move your arm and wiggle your fingers, sir?” the second voice asked.

Focussing on the figure, Billy saw that it was a young private in a red uniform.

“Come on then, sir, upsy-daisy!” the sergeant said as strong arms helped Billy onto his feet.

“Looks like we’ve get them beat, sir,” the NCO said.

For a moment, Billy felt light-headed, and wanted to vomit.

“Take a couple of deep breaths and you’ll be fine, sir, and let me have a quick look at that arm?” the Bandsman asked.

“No! Thank you private,” Billy said, gulping down some fresh air. “It’s just a scratch...there are injured men that need your attention more than I do.”

“Very good, sir,” the Bandsman replied and dashed off to find injured men in the battle line.

“You gonna be all right, sir?” the sergeant asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, sergeant. Now carry on with your duties.” Billy continued to catch his breath and wishing that the sergeant would go away.

“Sir.” The sergeant saluted and dashed off to find his men.

Looking around him for the first time, Billy could see that the sergeant was indeed correct in his evaluation of the military situation.

The north wall was still holding, as were the upper parts of the east and west walls. A few fugitives were being hunted down behind the wall as the redcoats and Natal Infantrymen resumed the battle over the one-metre barricade. The scrimmage for the south wall was still in full swing. Bayonets and spears were tearing into the dwindling Zulu numbers, whilst at the same time, redcoats and Natal Infantrymen were stumbling free from the press of bodies with their injuries. The riflemen not engaged at the front of the battle had resumed shooting down any Zulus who were trying to clamber onto the barricade.

At the breach in the south wall, Billy could see a huge “V” of cleared ground, strewn with dead and injured, that drove through the heart of the Zulu “blister” around the gap. Major Pulleine and the Bayonet Group were hacking, slashing, stabbing, and clubbing their way through anyone that got in their way. Already, he could see Zulus shrinking and cowering away from the savage ferocity of the attack. Rifle butts, bullets, and blades were dividing the Zulu formation next to the breach, whilst riflemen and Natal Infantry supported the Bayonet Group spearhead. Some Zulus were trying to re-cross the wall to escape the savage onslaught, but sharp-eyed riflemen quickly spotted them and shot them down.

On either side of the “V”, the front line of riflemen and Natal Infantry was gradually pushing the Zulus back. The front line was actually three deep in Natal Infantrymen and redcoats who were hacking, slashing, stabbing, and shooting at the mass of Zulus they had pinned against the south wall. However, the Zulu toe-hold on the British side of the barricade was dwindling with every passing second. And, as the Zulu position shrunk, the trampling feet of the riflemen and Natal Infantry passed over the carnage and horror of the hand-to-hand fighting.

The bodies of the dead and injured lay like a carpet on the ground behind the front line as the riflemen and Natal Infantrymen drove forward. Some writhed and shrieked from the wounds to their riven bellies, whilst others moaned in their pain, and many more simply lay still. A few figures were trying to crawl away from the hideous carpet of bodies. The redcoats and Natal Infantry found help from the British bandsmen, whilst the Zulus found that a bayonet or a bullet would end their suffering.

The air rang with the clash of metal, the bang of shots, and the screams and shouts of battle. Still, the fight raged on. Turning to the west wall, Billy could see that it was almost entirely reclaimed by the British forces. At one point, Billy saw a huge dark-haired redcoat corporal lift a dead Zulu from the ground and throw the corpse bodily at three warriors who were attempting to climb back onto the barricade. The three intruders were swept away by the dead flesh and the corporal’s strength. Meanwhile, the corporal’s comrades and the Natal Infantrymen were jabbing, stabbing, and shooting at the Zulus who clung on to the other side of the barricade.

Suddenly, from the south wall, there erupted a great cheer. Turning swiftly, Billy could see that Pulleine and the survivors of the Bayonet Group had reached the breach. They had divided the Zulu contingent and had cut them off from reinforcement. Redcoats were piling forward and forming up at the breach with spear-carrying Natal Infantrymen. And, within seconds, the first ragged volley was reaching out to the Zulus beyond the south wall.

The Natal Infantrymen at the breach were jabbing and stabbing at the Zulus, who were struggling to clamber onto the barricade on either side of the breach.

And, it was these ragged volleys and jabbing spears that finally convinced the Zulus on the south wall that the battle was over.

Finding themselves attacked from their flanks, the Zulus around the breach started to turn and run. And, when one group began to run, it was like the entire Zulu attack peeled away from the front of the barricade.

Seeing the warriors on their flanks running convinced others that this was not the time or place to die needlessly whilst others saved themselves. Within seconds, the entire Zulu contingent facing the south wall was disintegrating as the warriors began to run. Within fifteen seconds, the entire south wall, outside the British position, was clear of Zulus. The eastern and western walls were also starting to see the Zulus disengage and flee back to the river, or back to the dongas. With jeers and rifle shots following them, the Zulus who had come so close to breaking into the position and overwhelming it were now retreating in disarray. To Billy’s amazement and relief, the Zulus on the eastern and western walls were peeling off. A few die-hard Zulus tried to carry on the fight, but were soon silenced by blades and bullets. With the eastern and western attacks folding up, the Zulus at the north wall soon found themselves without the traditional support on their flanks. Then, they too began to run.

It’s
over
, Billy thought as he held on to his injured left arm.

The riflemen and Natal Infantrymen on the north wall began to cheer and celebrate, but there was still the problem of several hundred Zulus trapped down by the south wall. It was a problem that solved itself very quickly. Having seen their comrades on the other side of the wall flee, the warriors trapped within the British position either tried to climb back over the barricade, or they began to throw their weapons down. In the brutal hand-to-hand, it took the British several minutes to realise that the enemy were capitulating, and dozens of surrendering warriors were cut down in the confusion. The officers, realising what was happening, called their men back and allowed the Zulus to throw down their shields, spears and clubs.