The first attacks came before dawn.

Jacob awoke from dreams of barbed wire and smoke to the frantic clanging of the large brass bell outside the canteen. He scrambled out of his bunk and threw on his clothes before unzipping the tent and emerging into the half-light, rubbing his stiff shoulder.

Around him men were doing likewise, blinking in confusion and asking one another what was happening. They dashed to the canteen where Grey swung the rope hanging from the bell and Black stood with a thunderous expression.

Grey stopped the bell ringing, and the echoes faded away. The silence was oppressive after the noise; even the normal dawn chorus of the birds was absent. Harry appeared next to Jacob, unshaven and confused as the rest.

“Listen up!” Black shouted over the quiet murmurings of the gathered crowd, forcing them to silence. “The First Division is under attack - they were on routine patrol when numerous fae assaulted all Companies simultaneously. They got off flares and two Companies dispatched runners to update us. So here are your orders, grab your gear and head out!” He took a deep breath. “Division Two, to the stones! Division Three you will rendezvous with First Division Company A at point X-Ray Nine Seven, and Division Four will meet Company B at point Zulu Three Five.” As he bellowed, each division of men split off from the group and ran to grab their kit. “Division Five,” Harry and Jacob stood up straighter. “Remain here, for now. Kit up and be ready to reinforce or defend as required.”

“Sir, we can help!” Jacob protested.

“You are helping,” Black snapped. “You’re the reserve.” He turned on his heel and stalked back to his tent.

“Division Five is under-manned,” Grey explained. “The full strength Divisions have clear roles to perform and we will need you to resupply or reinforce them when… well, let’s hope it’s not that bad. Get your men ready!”

Jacob and Harry gave orders to their men who sprinted to prepare their equipment.

“What do you think?” Jacob asked Harry while they gathered their own belonging.

“About what? The attack?” Harry asked. Jacob nodded. “It’s what we’ve been expecting, I guess, a massed attack on all fronts.”

“And just as we’ve lowered the stones, too… That isn’t a coincidence.”

“No, either we weakened the defences or they’re trying to prevent the repairs. Whichever it is we’re in for a fight.”

The men were still sitting around checking & rechecking their gear when the sun rose. Jacob decided that daylight would be likely to slow or even halt the fae attack, so he gave permission for one Company at a time to eat breakfast while they waited. No point in having them hungry when the call comes, he thought.

No-one had their breakfast interrupted. In fact it was after ten before the first news from the front came back, in the form of a runner from Second Division. As he passed the men they noted his torn, muddy clothes, his hair in disarray and the terror in his eyes. He didn’t break stride as he sprinted into the command tent to report to Black.

A minute later, Black and Grey came out of the tent and strode over to Jacob & Harry. “You’re needed at the stones,” Black said. “Head over there and support the survivors.”

“How many?” Jacob asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

“They’ve taken heavy losses but they’ve inflicted worse,” Grey replied. “Get moving and we can press the advantage.”

With a last look at the runner, now sat exhausted outside the tent with his head in his shaking hands, Jacob ordered his men to their feet and marched them double-time towards Stonehenge.

Even from a quarter of a mile away, the scale of the battle was staggering, with magical attacks ranging around and across the stone circle. From that distance it was impossible to tell who had control of the area, so Jacob raised his binoculars to get a better idea.

As far as he could tell, remnants of the First and Second Division were inside the outer ditch of the monument, taking cover behind stones and in the excavations. Ranged around them were countless fae creatures, rendered visible to allow attacks upon them. With a start, Jacob realised that many of the defenders were not lying prone to launch attacks but lay dead where they had fallen. Perhaps a handful of men remained alive.

“All right,” he said. Better quick than right. “If Stonehenge is a clock, we’re at 6 o’clock, 12 o’clock’s the far side, got it? A Company, you’ll take the left flank, come in at 8 o’clock. B Company, on the right, 4 o’clock. C Company with me, we’re going straight in - that’s 6 o’clock if you weren’t paying attention. White and D Company will circle around and hit them from 12 o’clock. Hold back a hundred yards until I launch a flare to start the attack. Everyone clear?” The chorus of assent was music to Jacob’s ears. “Go around wide, they should be too busy to spot us, but if they do…” damn it, what choice did they have? “If they do, send up a flare and we’ll all just charge in, all right? Surprise is more important than encircling them.”

The men arranged themselves into Companies and started to head out in their respective directions. “Good luck,” Harry muttered to Jacob as he passed.

“You too,” Jacob replied.

Keeping low and making use of what little cover the plain afforded, the men covered the remaining distance. As they had hoped, the fae were too busy (or too uncoordinated) to mount a lookout, and soon Jacob saw that everyone had made it into position without being detected. Here goes, he thought, and fired up a bright red flare to arc over the stones.

In perfect unison the four Companies launched their assault. As one they rose from their concealment and launched a volley of attacks at the nearest fae, taking down almost half their number before they could react. The attack from multiple sides confused the creatures, and yet more of them fell to the barrages of magical firepower.

Jacob and C Company were first to break through and reach the remnants of First Division sheltering among the stones. They took positions to both reinforce the men already there and cover the approach they had just used in case of any further fae activity.

“Are you in charge?” Jacob asked the least-rattled member of the Division he could see.

“Uh, yes sir?” the man quavered.

“What’s your name?” Jacob asked.

“Smith, er, I mean Amber, sir.”

“Right then Amber, we’re here now so get your men together and check on the wounded. We’ll cover you.” With that Jacob checked on his own Company to see they were making short work of the remaining fae within range. B Company had reached the stones from their position on the right, and with so much firepower massed in the centre already A & D were soon to join them.

It was a matter of just a few minutes before they dealt with the last of the creatures, and the division regrouped at the centre of the monument. Jacob & Harry’s men had suffered no losses, and Jacob took a moment to congratulate them before issuing orders to secure the area and keep a watch for another assault. As his men scurried to their positions, hagstones at the ready, Jacob turned to Amber again.

“How many did you lose?” he asked.

“There were twenty of us here,” he replied.

Jacob looked around himself; five of the original defenders were on their feet, two more lay injured, the rest were dead. “Damn,” he said. “And the workers? The Ministry?”

Amber shook his head. “The attack was too early, they came for us before they arrived. I mean, the fae came before the workmen, sorry sir. Someone said they’d tell them to stay at their lodgings, so they wouldn’t see anything.”

Jacob listened as Amber explained that the cover story was that someone had found unexploded ordnance left over from the wartime airbase, close enough to cause a day’s hiatus in digging. “So at least it’s contained,” he said. “You got someone who can act as a runner for us?”

Amber asked among his men; all five were more than happy to volunteer to head back to the base. Jacob picked one who couldn’t have been over eighteen by the look of him.

“Get back and update Mr Black that we’ve secured the area, but we need stretcher bearers. Make sure he realises the enormity of the loss.” The lad scampered off and Jacob turned back to Amber. “Right, tend to your wounded. We’ll take care of… the others.”

Amber swallowed hard, and with a murmured “thank you” went to see to the injured men.

Jacob grabbed two men of his own, asked them to pick up the dead and place them behind one of the upright stones to the South-West, away from the centre. As they started their grisly task, he made a quick tour of the rest of the division. When he caught up with Harry, he took him to one side.

“The First are broken,” he said. “I doubt they have any fight left in them. Not today, at least.”

“Are you surprised?” Harry asked. “They weren’t ready for this, hell even if they had been, we both know that losing two-thirds of your mates isn’t something you just shrug off.”

“True,” Jacob said. “But that means it’s down to us; thank God we lost nobody - it’ll be tough enough with our little band intact.”

“You think there’ll be another attack?” Harry asked.

“I’m certain,” Jacob replied. “With those stones down there’s nothing to stop them.”

As if to prove his point, a sharp whistle blast sounded from the opposite side of the monument, followed by a cry of “Here they come, two, no three o’clock!” Moments later a whistle pierced the air from the nine o’clock position, and then from all around the circle.

“Everyone stand to!” Jacob shouted, though he saw with pride that everyone was ready; even the survivors of the First Division had hauled themselves into position and were holding their ground. He readied his staff and magically amplified his voice to make sure that everyone across the site could hear his instructions. “Seers, call out when they’re within range. Everyone else, ready powders.”

An eternity passed before the call went out to say that the fae attackers were close enough to hit. The moment it did two dozen glass bottles arced through the air in near-perfect unison, breaking on the hard earth and releasing their arcane powders to swirl and wave before homing in on the creatures surrounding the men.

“What the…” a voice cried out. This time the attacking force wasn’t just made up of mere animals, or the fae equivalent. Dog-like creatures were there, sure enough, jaws flecked with spittle and giant teeth bared, but humanoid figures accompanied them. If Jacob had seen one on a gloomy night, he might have passed right by it without realising, but in the bright June sunlight these could not be mistaken for men.

They were over six feet tall, rake-thin with spindly arms and legs. Blonde hair grew shaggy down from their shoulders. More hair sprouted out of their foreheads and cheeks, framing and emphasising the figures’ jet-black eyes and scarlet mouths. They wore filthy rags that covered little of their bodies and the blonde hair covered the rest of their flesh. Where the skin showed through, on hands and feet, it was marble-pale. Each one held a long, curving staff, ornate and branch-like, which they levelled at the defending force.

“Put up shields!” Jacob called, too late, as the first blasts of magical energy arced towards the nearest men. Jacob watched with horror as one came towards him, only for Harry to force himself into the path at the last moment. The blast hit Harry in the chest, dead-centre, and he dropped to the ground, his clothes smoking.