Vincent, in his own war room with his knights and soldiers, ran his men and women through Adrian’s plan, making them aware of the first half of the plan. He had the same map hovering above his table as Adrian’s except his was blue with a red wall acting as the border.
“My brother will have his men posted here, here and here,” Vincent said, pointing out the stalactites, river, and ledges. “And he will be posted here,” he added, pointing to the outcropping of rock over the river.
“When do we step in, sir?” one knight, Doran, asked. Doran was Vincent’s chief advisor within the knights’ ranks, and the best lieutenant he had.
Vincent motioned to the area behind Adrian’s position and said, “We wait for Adrian’s signal before charging. He will – hopefully – let me know what the signal is ahead of time. It’s a good thing I know him so well. As soon as we have the signal, we charge in and engage the invaders. Once they are past Adrian’s position, they will be within Hell’s borders and we will be well within our right in defending our home.” Vincent looked over the faces of his soldiers. Each and every one of them would gladly lay down their life for him, and he could not be prouder of that fact. He worked hard to earn their trust and had to deal with more than his fair share of racist dissenters. It had been over five years since a demon or devil had challenged him for the right to lead. Every demon and devil under his command was there willingly, and Vincent would not have had it any other way. They all approved of his plan and each nodded in acceptance. They knew their roles in the upcoming battle. Some may die, but they would win.
“Good,” Vincent nodded. “Gather what you need for battle. We leave immediately.”
The two groups exited their respective war rooms as one and made a steady march for the link to Earth. Adrian and Vincent walked side by side, as they always loved to do whenever battle called.
CHAPTER TWO
The lord of the vampires took a sip from his goblet, brooding over his latest meal as he stared vacantly out over his vast kingdom on Earth. She had been a beautiful woman, the same age is daughter was before she tragically died, refusing his gift of everlasting youth. The woman had been a lively one in the harem, but she had served her purpose well enough. The lord, a vampire of considerable age, wealth, and power, who had been in power for over three thousand years, enjoyed her blood, still warm and fresh. As he sipped the warm, coppery liquid, he stared out the window at the top floor of his building in New York. He had enjoyed over two hundred years as the owner of a global technological manufacturer, called Globe Tech, and his company’s home office was the building in which he stood. The technological manufacturing company was a relatively new way for him to continue to amass power during his long life, and his grip on Earth’s supply of new technology kept him at the top. Aside from ruling over the vampires of the world, he enjoyed having control of the strings that made humanity his puppet. Very few beings controlled more than he did.
“My lord,” a servant said quietly, interrupting the dark thoughts floating through the vampire lord's mind.
"What is it?" he hissed, his voice cold and commanding.
"Your army has reached its destination," the younger vampire explained shakily.
"Good," the vampire lord said with a twinkle in his eye and a bloodthirsty grin curling his pale lips. He turned to the servant, looking into his frightened eyes. "You are an excellent tactician, are you not?"
"Um… well, yes, my lord," the confused vampire bowed.
"Good, then you won't mind leading them into Hell." It was more a command than a request.
"My lord?" he asked.
"I want you to take command of my army and invade the demons’ home," the vampire explained. "As you know, the army of thralls were moved in secret without anyone at the head of the army. With your experience as a tactician in the last World War, I believe you will be the best choice to lead them. Keep yourself safe, for if you die the entire army shall perish and I do not wish to lose such a fine group of specimens." Feigning compassion came all too easily to the lord of vampires. He was trying to expand his already extensive kingdom, after all. He cared little for the lives of his subjects, let alone the thralls who only lived a half-life. They were bred simply for killing and were only used as fodder.
"My... my lord…” the groveling vampire began slowly.
"What?" the lordly vampire spat, gripping the servant by the shirt and lifting him back to his feet. "Are you too frightened or stupid to follow my orders? Shall I cast you into the trash pits with the rest of the failed experiments?"
"My Lord, it is not fear that is cause for my hesitation. Actually, I am quite honored by your choice to have me lead your army. No, it’s the rumors of the king and his two sons. The legends-"
The Lord of vampires had lost his patience. "Do you possibly think two demons and an angel can defeat you and my army of thralls? You will go and you will slay every last piece of demon vermin until you get me what I want. Now go!"
Not wanting to invoke his master’s wrath any further, the young vampire, now the general of an army of vampire thralls, merely bowed and rushed off to the portal room where the vampire magicians waited to take him to his new post hundreds of miles away.
Adrian stood atop his rock over the river Styx, and waited, his arms folded over his lightly armored chest. His long jacket, given to him by his father, swayed with his impatient movements. He absently toyed with a ring on the middle finger of his right hand, feeling the strong, nervous heartbeats of his brother.
“Calm down, brother, you’re making my hand go numb,” Adrian whispered. The sentiment was telepathically sent through the ring’s magical link, but Adrian always felt odd simply thinking his message. The ring was based on a similar version their father had used back on Earth before he married their mother, but these rings were made with better quality and stronger spells. The magical link was much stronger, and the spell used a drop of each wearer’s blood to keep the link specifically between the two. The blood was used to maintain a proper link with the correct wearer. The rings could be put to terrible use if wielded by the wrong people, as witnessed by Dante before his reign began. Too many spies had tried to steal the rings in order to use them against the kingdom of Hell, but their efforts were met with harsh retribution from Adrian and Vincent.
“I can’t really help it,” Vincent replied through the rings’ link. “Vampires are unnatural. They make me uncomfortable.”
“Then do what I do,” Adrian chuckled. “Imagine them dead.”
“Really?” came Vincent’s deadpan response.
“You know what I meant.”
“Right…”
“I love our talks, little brother,” Adrian grinned. His mirth was cut short by a faint splashing noise, like that of an oar slipping through water. Shortly afterward, Adrian spotted the first boat of vampire thralls come into view. Behind the first boat came several others, each one holding ten thralls and their vampire handlers. These soldiers were not the mindless wretches that the thralls were. They were the cunning, vicious creatures of the night. But they were encroaching upon demon territory. And demons were feared above all other monsters.
Shouts rose up from the vampire army, leading Adrian to believe that he had been spotted. An arrow whistled past his head, and another arrow thudded into his chest. The tip barely broke through his sternum. Adrian pulled the arrow out and casually tossed it aside.
“They must be here,” Vincent muttered through the connection. “You’re much calmer than usual.”
“That happens,” Adrian remarked dryly. “Get your knights ready.”
The assassin shifted his stance and watched the vampires come to a slow halt in their boats. The undead mass sat in silence as a larger boat, this one much more extravagant than the others. A well-dressed vampire stood at the bow, glaring daggers at Adrian.
“You must be the commander of this fine… shit heap… of an army,” Adrian shouted, spreading his arms wide. His voice echoed off the stone walls o
f the cavern and he heard angry shouts rise from the invading army.
The vampire’s glare darkened, and he scowled at the demon. “How dare you insult the army of my lord and master?”
Adrian laughed. “How dare I not? You blood-suckers are invading my home, planning on killing my family and my people, and you expect me to greet you cordially?”
The vampire simply continued to glare.
“Fine,” Adrian spat, giving in. The entire army was still on the Earth side of the border and he had to think of something to say to goad the vampires onto the Hell side. The boats slowly drifted closer, but he wanted them all within Hell’s border. “I hereby welcome all of you filthy, blood sucking leeches to my glorious home. Welcome to that which you would gladly defile under your boots. Welcome to Hell, and your final resting place!”
“A little much, don’t you think?” Vincent asked sarcastically.
“Yeah, probably,” Adrian admitted after another arrow pierced his shoulder. “But they’re not quite over the border yet.”
The lead vampire called a charge and pointed his sword menacingly at Adrian. The vampire had to know there was an army in place. Otherwise he was simply attacking a lone demon with his entire army, a notion that made Adrian grin. The boats ventured forth, closing the two hundred yard gap. More arrows filled the air as the vampires came closer, causing Adrian’s smile to fade. He raised his right hand and summoned an invisible barrier around him, just in time to deflect the incoming arrows. Most of them skipped off the stone, missing the demon assassin by several feet, but others came dangerously close to their mark. The invisible bubble flashed blue with each strike, but the arrows bounced harmlessly away.
“My patience is waning,” Adrian muttered through gritted teeth. His protective barrier flickered and faded after the first volley of arrows, leaving him open to the next volley, already loosed by the oncoming horde. The arrows rained down, many of them missing again, but several found their way to Adrian, who was already feeling the strain of his last protective spell. His own magical prowess was not on par with his father’s impressive command of the arcane energies, but he was glad the barrier held out against as many arrows as it had. He glanced at the approaching army and nodded in satisfaction. The army was fully within Hell’s territory and Adrian cast his signaling spell, sending a ball of red light into the air above him. The ball of light exploded into thousands of shards of crimson glass that shot toward the vampires’ boats. The shards burrowed into the wood and ignited, setting the wood ablaze. Vampires and thralls scrambled to get out of the sinking boats, rushing to swim to the banks of the river.
Assassins fell from the ceiling and rose from the river to kill the vampires at the rear of the army and cut off their only escape while Vincent and his knights charged in from around the bend. They ran up the banks of the river Styx, slaying vampires as they tried to claw their way out of the water. Silver weapons flashed in the light of the fires rising from the sinking boats, and the knights had most of the army killed within moments. They surrounded the survivors that were still in the water and pointed their weapons, daring any vampire to step out and face them.
Adrian pulled himself back onto the rocky outcropping he stood upon before, pulling the last of the arrows from his body. His clothes and armor were riddled with holes, and snapped shafts protruded from his body like quills from a porcupine. He had jumped into the fray to fight alongside Vincent, but came back to his original position to address the vampires who still lived. He quickly found the commander treading water in the center of the surviving vampires.
“You almost surprise me, leech,” Adrian commented, lifting a snapped arrow into the firelight. The tip reflected the light as if made from obsidian. “I had thought this particular type of metal was simply a myth. Some of those arrows actually hurt.”
The vampire commander glared up at the demon assassin but said nothing.
“Still, you shouldn’t be too proud,” Adrian continued. “I, uh… kinda thought this whole ordeal would take longer. You really should have planned this better.”
“Brother,” Vincent sighed. “Must we antagonize them?”
Adrian shrugged, slipping the broken arrow into a pocket of his jacket. “Fine,” he said, turning to limp off of his rock. He waved a dismissive hand, as if he no longer cared. “Kill ‘em all, then.”
The screams of the dying vampires echoed in the cavern behind Adrian as he slowly made his way back home. His wounds were healing slower than normal, which concerned him. The arrows that had pierced his flesh were tipped with a metal he had never seen before and had thought was only a legend from a long-forgotten time. By the time he exited the cavern, Vincent had caught up with him, followed by the rest of their soldiers. They suffered no casualties and minimal wounds. Their plan was a resounding success.
“You’re troubled,” Vincent whispered to Adrian. “And wounded.” He made sure to keep his worries hidden from the soldiers, not wanting to dampen their high morale.
Adrian grunted, wincing as a wound in his chest continued to bleed. Each step jolted it and sent waves of pain through his body. “That was too easy. And I almost died back there. It was too easy and I was nearly killed. Yeah, I’m a little out of it. You know how I hate almost dying.”
Vincent looked at the blood and his eyes widened. “How is that wound not healed by now? I’ve seen you take a sword through the chest before and you were fine.”
Adrian pulled the arrow from his pocket and handed it to Vincent. “This is the culprit. I don’t know what kind of metal that is, but there were at least five more like it that hit me. There weren’t very many of these special arrows in the mix, so they’re limited to a small supply of the stuff. But I’m sure they have a lot more, and not just arrows, either. That army was too poorly trained, or it was a weaker part of the main force, I don’t know.”
Vincent looked over the arrow, eyes narrowed. “Then, you think there will be another attack?” he asked.
“That’s my job,” Adrian muttered. “I’m the paranoid one. I’m the one who looks for the danger. We need to show this to father. He’ll know what to do.”
The brothers travelled in silence the rest of the way back to the tower, while the soldiers and assassins talked loudly of celebrating the moment they returned.
Adrian and Vincent stood in front of Dante in the king’s war room in the tower. He turned the arrow over in his hands and ran his fingers over the metal tip. His face was grim, bordering on angry. His eyes held a quiet rage neither of his sons had ever seen before.
“You said you pulled this from your chest?” Dante asked.
Adrian nodded, pulling aside his shirt to reveal the wound. It was finally scabbing over and closed, but the fact that it was taking so long to heal greatly concerned them all.
“Another inch or two higher and you would be dead, my son,” Dante stated.
Adrian and Vincent shared worried looks.
“I was just a young boy the last time I saw this metal,” the king explained. The quiet rage in his eyes threatened to boil over. “It was during a devastating war on Earth, one that nearly destroyed the planet. The last king of Hell, my grandfather, Damien, tried to expand Hell’s borders. He almost succeeded, and would have if not for the intervention of the archangels. They came from Heaven, led by Artemis, and defended Earth and the humans. Eventually, they taught the humans how to fight back and armed them with special weapons made specifically to kill demons.”
“Are you saying the angels supplied the vampires with these weapons?” Vincent balked.
Dante shook his head. “Of course not, son. What likely happened was the vampires somehow found an old cache of weapons leftover from the war. I thought I had them all hidden away or destroyed, though.”
“Well, looks like you missed one,” Adrian muttered, absently scratching at the scab.
Vincent slapped Adrian’s hand away and gave him a disapproving look. “Quit picking at it.” He turned to Dante and asked, “How sha
ll we proceed, then? I can send out my knights to check on the remaining caches to make certain they’re safe and double the guard.”
Dante nodded, ignoring Adrian’s harsh words. The young demon was well within his right to be upset. This was the closest he had ever been to actually dying, even when considering the amount of bloodshed he had seen during the troubles in the kingdom before. “Yes, that’ll be a good idea. Send out your best knights, along with some of Adrian’s assassins. I want knights posted in visible locations and assassins hidden away. Also, send a legion of knights to the border cave with some workers. I’m building an outpost there to discourage more incursions.”
Vincent nodded, already deciding exactly who he would send. Dante dismissed him and he left for the barracks. Adrian turned to follow, thinking to tell his assassins in person, but was stopped by his father.
“Wait a moment, son,” Dante said.
Adrian halted and looked at his father. The king’s reign was beginning to wear on the older demon, who was still fairly young according to the average lifespan of their people.
“I want you to send out your spies. The markings of this arrow resemble those from one of the caches I found. I fear one from our own ranks may be making deals with the vampires. I want you to find out who it is, and make certain they find their way to the suffering pits. I want the soul of this betrayer to burn for what they have done.”
Adrian nodded, understanding the order for what it was. Unfortunately, even under Dante’s reign, there were demons who sought to bring about his downfall. There were dissenters in every kingdom, and Hell was no different. Adrian turned on his heel and left the tower’s war room. He would send a trusted spy to each continent on Earth to check on the weapon caches in each region, and the master assassin would personally oversee the project. It was to be yet another secret mission, off the record and hidden from the rest of the soldiers. The young demon climbed the tower, reaching the highest floor, which housed the demons he had personally trained to be his elite spies and assassins.
The Assassin and the Knight Page 2
