Promise of Wrath (The Hellequin Chronicles Book 6)

by Steve McHugh

  The words seemed to physically strike my mother, and a tear fell from one of her blue eyes, quickly wiped away before it was too noticeable. “If my son is ever hurt, I will hunt Merlin and you dwarves down. I will find you, and I will feed you your own entrails.”

  The child-me listened to this with all of the intense concentration an eight-year-old could muster. I remembered not really understanding the problem, although I didn’t like the idea of being separated from my mother.

  “Say what you need to,” the dwarf said, ignoring her threats.

  My mother hugged me close as everyone around us departed. “You’re a good boy: a strong boy, like your father.” She stared across the pool beside us. “I hope one day you get to meet him.”

  “But he’s dead,” I pointed out.

  My mother smiled. “So he is. Sorry, Nathaniel, my mind is playing tricks. It’s been a long few months.”

  “Do I have to stay with Merlin for long?”

  Brynhildr shook her head. “No, not long. But you’ll be safe there, and he’s going to teach you about your magic, and how to become a soldier. There are lots of other children there your age too. There’s a boy called Mordred; he’s going to rule Avalon one day. You’re going to be staying in the castle with him. I hear he’s a nice boy. He sounds a lot like you.”

  “I’ll make sure to say hello,” I assured her.

  “Good.” She hugged me tight and I remembered the feeling of wetness on the back of my neck. “You’re such a good boy. I’m so sorry to have to do this to you.”

  I touched the tear-stained cheeks of my mother. “I promise I’ll be brave. I promise I’ll make you proud.”

  She kissed me on the forehead. “You make me proud every single day, Nathaniel. You are the single greatest thing I have ever accomplished, and you will grow up to be a great man, and do great things. And we’ll see one another again.”

  I nodded, and then recalled what she’d said earlier. “You said I wouldn’t be there long.”

  “I know, but just in case.”

  I nodded, although I didn’t really understand, and when my mother kissed the child-me’s forehead, I found my hand touching my own in response.

  I continued to watch as the child-me was stripped and the blood in the pool was used to draw runes all over my body.

  The rest of the ritual was hazy, my child’s mind flickering back and forth, ignoring the words being spoken as I was led into the blood bath. I remember being dunked under and told to drink some of it, which I did, although it made me cough and gag. After that it got hazy, the words making the child-me sleepy, but I remember the pain, the agony that coursed through my body as the curse marks burned themselves into my skin. I remember hearing a voice scream out in rage, and thought it was my mother, but I couldn’t be certain.

  Eventually the room began to darken as chanting and speaking all merged into one, until there was only me lying in a pool of blood, surrounded by an empty void. I remember shaking and panicking as pieces of my memory were obliterated from me, and I fought to hold onto an image of my mother, but it, too, vanished, until there was nothing but darkness.

  “What happened here?” I asked.

  “They took your memories,” Erebus told me. “All of them before the age of eight. You were then placed in a transport with Asger, who took you to Camelot.”

  “We were attacked on the way; only I survived. Merlin found me outside of the city.” A memory of my waking moments flashed into my mind. “Asger was beside me when I woke. He died defending me from . . . I don’t know what. He loved my mother, and she loved him. He deserved better than he got.”

  Erebus nodded. “You remained in the temple for several days after the ritual. You can probably see those memories if you like, although you were barely conscious for nearly all of it.”

  “Why did they do this to me? Why did my mother?”

  “I only know what you know,” Erebus said.

  “That’s beginning to sound like a catchphrase.”

  “It’s true, though. I do not know why they did this, except that there was a war coming, and it was done to protect you.”

  “I want answers.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get them, although they might not be the ones you want.”

  “They rarely are.”

  “You sound angry.”

  “Merlin knew my mother. He knew her, and he kept her from me. He knew why the marks were on me, and he kept that from me, too. I can’t get to him; I can’t get answers from him. He’d have me killed. But one day he’ll no longer be able to hide in his realm, and I’ll get the answers I want.”

  “I see you gained shadow magic. And now another mark is gone. You’re going to lose all of your marks soon.”

  I looked down to find myself bare-chested, missing yet another black mark. Only two remained. “Now is not the time for the discussion about taking over my body, Erebus. There are still two there.”

  “Three.”

  I turned to him. “Where is the third?”

  “What do you think keeps you from accessing your childhood memories? They put a block on them, making you unable to revisit those memories without the right stimulus. When your memories are whole again, when you can recall everything; only then will you truly be the man you were born to be. And only then will I be able to fulfill my role in your life.”

  “To take control of me? To use me as your puppet? I don’t think so.”

  “You have no idea what I am, what all of us really are. You still believe that the magic inside of sorcerers is there to corrupt and destroy its user. You do not believe me when I tell you otherwise.” He paused for a second. “It appears constraints on me have been removed. The loss of those marks is making my connection to your subconscious more powerful.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, slightly concerned.

  “It means I can tell you that you’ve been lied to, your whole life. Every sorcerer born in the last two thousand years has been lied to. I don’t know the reason why. I don’t know when it first started, but the magic inside of you is not your ruin. It’s not your damnation. It is your birthright. It is the only way for you to be truly whole.”

  CHAPTER 22

  September 1195. City of Acre.

  I punched Mordred in the face. I’d asked a simple question about why Isabel had been turned into a vampire, and why they’d then sent her back to us, and all Mordred did was snarl and threaten me. It had gotten old, and frankly I was bored with it.

  Gilgamesh wrapped his massive arms around me and dragged me away to the far corner of the room. “Stay here.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

  I thought about disobeying him, but in the long run it would only cause more trouble, and I needed answers more than I needed to pummel Mordred into a fine paste. I left the room, allowing Gilgamesh, Irkalla, and Nabu to complete their questions, and walked over to Nanshe, who was sat alone.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Asag is in the city,” she told me. “He escaped and killed his guards. He fled into the city. More death and destruction. I’m getting exceptionally tired of it. Tired of listening to Mordred’s babbling, too.”

  “He’s hard work, isn’t he?”

  “Was he like that when you were friends?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing about the current man is the same as he was when we were friends.”

  “He still asked to see you when he was captured, though. He was quite insistent, and wouldn’t talk to anyone else.”

  I got up and walked back into Mordred’s prison, just as Gilgamesh was leaving. “Did you know that Isabel wasn’t going to be killed?” I asked Mordred.

  “No,” Mordred admitted. “I didn’t know they would turn her instead. I believe that was probably the plan all along. I doubt they wanted you to find her so quickly, though. Putting a newly awakened vampire in the city would have resulted in carnage.”

  “Yes, it would have,” I agreed. “I think that was the plan. We split our troops into th
ose manning the walls, dealing with a vampire, dealing with Siris, and dealing with Asag, not to mention those who still guard you, and anyone cleaning up the fake knights and their mess. That’s a lot for the guard to undertake.”

  “They’re stretching us thin,” Nabu said.

  “Yes. While our resources are all over the place, they’ll attack. I wouldn’t be surprised if they do something else to take our attention away from the defense of the city.”

  “Tiamat’s children,” Nanshe said. “That’s what you told us those knights were after. Unleashing her children.”

  “They’re safety locked away in another realm,” Nabu said. “Been that way for a long time.”

  “So what does Acre have in its boundaries that they think would allow them to bring her children into this realm?” I asked.

  “The catacombs,” Nanshe said. “There are lots of old relics down there—maybe something that might help them. Or help us.”

  “How far beneath the city are the catacombs?” I asked, as I saw Mordred smirk.

  “Quite far,” Nanshe confirmed. “And it would take a lot of effort to find anything they were searching for. Those things go on forever. It’s a maze of corridors and rooms, and it’s been abandoned for centuries.”

  “Any chance there’s a realm gate down there?”

  Nabu nodded. “It’s possible. It’s been a long time since anyone used those catacombs.”

  “What were they used for?” I asked.

  “All sorts of things,” Nanshe continued. “Certainly nothing that suggests—wait. The map that you said Siris had destroyed: what did it look like? Be exact.”

  I explained it as best I could. “See, there was nothing much,” I said when I’d finished. “The knights who went there should have it, though.”

  Nanshe ran off, seemingly concerned about what we’d found.

  “Anyone else think Siris had a map to the catacombs, raise your hand,” Mordred said, and put his hand in the air.

  I looked over at Mordred. “You’re coming with Irkalla and me. We’re going to go to the catacombs.”

  “Nabu, you’re going to have to reinforce the defenses. That attack is probably coming tonight.”

  Mordred raised his hand in my direction. “You planning on removing my sorcerer’s band?”

  Nabu removed a key from his person and unlocked it. “Ah, that feels good,” Mordred said. “Say, here’s a thought. Where’s Gilgamesh?”

  “He went back to Isabel,” Nabu said to me, refusing even to acknowledge Mordred.

  “Oh, Nabu, come on. Just because I wanted to kill you and everyone you loved, that’s no reason for you to be rude.”

  “Mordred, if you do anything to jeopardize this city, or our lives, I will end you,” I said.

  “Nate, your threats are worthless. We’ve done this dance. You’re no more likely to kill me now than you were the second we met. You remember that? You didn’t know who you were, and you were eight: all scared and pathetic.”

  I swallowed my reply. “Where’s the catacomb entrance?”

  “The best way to get there is from a building close to the marina,” Nabu said. “The guard have discovered a few people in the city who apparently see it as a . . . a place away from visible eyes.”

  “People go there to fuck, Nathan,” Mordred said, raising his hands in mock surrender when everyone glared at him. “Just explaining things in case you didn’t get it.”

  I ignored him. “Can you lead the way?”

  Irkalla nodded.

  Mordred stood and stretched. “I need to give something back to Siris, and frankly, I don’t trust you to get the job done properly. You didn’t exactly do a great job with Asag.”

  “I’m beginning to regret saying you can come,” I told Mordred.

  “I know the catacombs. I know the way around. Without me, and without a map, you’ll be running around in circles.”

  I sighed. “My patience is not infinite, Mordred. Do anything to push it, and—”

  “What? You’ll kill me?” he said with a laugh.

  “I’ll ensure that Isabel is in the front line of the fighting when it starts.”

  Mordred’s smile dropped. “Don’t threaten her.”

  “If you behave, you’ll give me no reason to, understand?”

  He nodded, but continued to glare at me.

  “Will you and Irkalla be needing time together?” Mordred asked as we left his prison, and got back into the open air—something I was grateful for. “I’m sure I can give you a little moment together.”

  “Yes, Mordred, we’ve all stopped listening to you,” Irkalla said.

  We’d just turned the corner when Nanshe came running toward us, several Templar knights in tow. “That map: it’s of the catacombs,” she said, confirming our theory. “Better still, I had to go through lots of burned scroll, but unfortunately I found a few pieces that were almost intact.”

  “Why ‘unfortunately?’”

  She handed it to me; it had writing on it. “I don’t understand it.”

  “It says ‘Tiamat,’” Nabu said from beside me. “So, they’re not after her children. They really believe that Tiamat is under this city?”

  “That doesn’t sound like good news,” Mordred said.

  “She’s dead,” Nabu insisted. “I saw her die. Her corpse was turned to ash and scattered to the wind in another realm. The guardian who opened the realm died four thousand years ago. He walked away from the protection and allowed himself to grow old and die. Whatever they’re after down there, it’s not Tiamat.”

  “Either way, we need to figure it out.”

  “Several more Teutonic Knights are waiting for you at the entrance,” Nanshe said. “I assume you were going to use the one by the marina?”

  “Everyone knows about the love den,” Mordred said with a laugh.

  I was about to wish everyone good luck when an explosion rocked the ground. Smoke and flame could be seen in the distance, followed by a second and third explosion.

  “They’re coming as soon as the sun sets,” I told Nanshe. I looked up at the setting sun. “Be ready.”

  “We won’t let them win,” she assured me.

  “I don’t think you have a lot of choice,” Mordred said. “But if you could make sure we don’t die, that would be grand.”

  “I get why you want him dead,” Irkalla told me before we began running.

  “What will you do with Isabel once this is over?” Mordred asked as we reached our destination. The entrance to the catacombs was a wooden door in the side of a hill, close to the ocean. It had been overgrown at one point, although it was obvious that people had trimmed it all away and just placed dozens of branches in front of it, branches that currently sat scattered across the sand.

  “Nothing. She’s free to do as she wishes.” I had nothing against her, and she’d committed no crimes that I could see. “She’s a vampire. That isn’t an offense.”

  I pushed open the door and found ten knights inside a huge room that had been built into the hill. There was a faint aroma of perfumes that lingered in the air. The evidence of several small fires dotted around the room, long since extinguished, but ready at a moment’s notice for anyone who wished to take someone to a secluded spot.

  “Gentlemen, I believe we have a hunt on our hands,” I said. “We’re after a rock monster by the name of Asag. If you find him, cut his head off, because this time I’d like him to stay dead.”

  They said, “Yes, sir!” in unison. It was somewhat unnerving in such a confined place.

  “Also, Siris is probably down there, too. I’d like her alive. I have questions.”

  “I, on the other hand would like to tear her eyes out,” Mordred said, “so either or, really.”

  “Mordred is not in any way part of your command,” I told the knights. “If he does anything to jeopardize this mission, kill him. Otherwise, he takes the lead and shows us the way.”

  “Is this a good idea?” Irkalla asked.

&nb
sp; “Not even slightly,” I admitted as Mordred walked over to the far end of the room and opened a hatch in the floor, revealing stairs leading down. “But it’s all we have right now.”

  As the city began to burn and my allies prepared for a battle that was all but certain to happen, I descended the staircase with Mordred in the lead. I hadn’t trusted him in centuries, and had been trying to kill him for most of those, but now I had no choice. Yet once it was done, once this threat had been ended, I would end Mordred, too. He was simply too dangerous to leave alive. And I was certain he was planning to do the same to me.

  We’d been in the catacombs for several hours, finding nothing more than some very large rats and the occasional skeleton, when we came across the first vampire. He’d sat in the darkness, in complete stillness and silence, watching us approach. I’d long since changed my vision to be able to see in the dark, but most of the knights and even Mordred and Irkalla were seeing things only by the light of the torches they held.

  No one had seen the vampire, not even after the hiss had left his mouth, and he’d begun walking toward us. The slight movement in the shadows was my first indication that something was coming and I responded accordingly. The vampire ran headfirst into a plume of flame that cooked it. It dropped to the ground, rolling and screaming before Mordred drew a sword from the belt of a knight and decapitated it.

  Mordred gave the sword back to the knight, not even bothering to wipe the blood from the blade, and shrugged at me.

  “We probably don’t want to make a lot of noise,” he said and we resumed our search.

  I couldn’t really argue with what had happened, because I’d have done the same. The very fact that I agreed with Mordred’s violent act didn’t make me feel good.

  We turned corner after corner and fought another half-dozen vampires. We couldn’t help the noise. We’d lost no one, though; the Teutonic Knights had killed a lot of vampires in their lives, probably with more enthusiasm than some would have liked, but they were a boon to have alongside us.