The Fallen

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The Fallen Page 12

by R. L. Drummond


  Eventually the pair spun through the inn’s destroyed doorway and Tellan stepped back in alarm when Jenko thrust a ferocious kick against a small painting upon the wall. His boot tore through the canvas easily and immediately there came a solid crunch from within the wall that sounded like the breaking of an ogre’s bones.

  Tellan made to dispatch the enemies that surged close upon the door’s threshold, until Jenko stopped him with an outstretched arm. “Wait.” He said sternly.

  The ceiling panel directly above the doorframe shattered like the surface of a frozen lake, and a colossal steel slab dropped down with the unstoppable power of an avalanche. Tellan leapt back instinctually at the speed of it, but the soldier that had reached out for his throat screeched wildly when the sheer force behind the door’s descent tore his arm off. The dismembered limb flopped limply onto the floor and Tellan and Jenko both stared impassively at its twitching throes with breathless exertion.

  Jenko indifferently nudged the limb with his toe and muttered, “Told you to wait.”

  Tellan panted as he gestured at the solidity of the steel door and asked, “Were you expecting trouble?”

  “Always.” Jenko replied truthfully and his grin was wicked through a cut lip as he added, “Not many humans like me for some reason.”

  “Will that hold them?”

  Jenko wiped an arm across his forehead, but rather than clearing his skin of sweat it simply smeared the hot blood that anointed his shirt sleeve thickly, “From that entry point, yes.”

  A crash from behind them announced the destruction of the reinforced kitchen door and Jenko growled at the triumphant whooping and yelling that followed. As soon as they turned the pair were met by a wave of soldiers that rushed for them, faces distorted ferociously in the mad demand for the deaths of Jenko and Tellan. Tellan’s bastard sword scored through the fearsome bladed weapons that sought his throat and as he shoulder rammed the enemy in front of him into his brethren, he caught the sight of reinforcements behind. He snarled at the vaguely human faces that waited for the opportune moment to strike; for the borrowed Dark that smouldered within them like a cancer had distorted their faces into a strange mask of inhuman cruelty.

  “Reinforcements!” He yelled in warning to Jenko as he dispatched yet another soldier and he glared at the others that crept forward with murderous weapons raised. These soldiers held a greater amount of Dark than the others…Tellan knew these ones would be harder to kill and even through the instinct of battle, he despaired for the human lives he was forced to take. But he also knew with uneasy experience that these deaths were a mercy in the long run, for the ultimate toll of a demon’s Dark within a vessel not meant for it was grave indeed. He boiled inside at the awful knowledge of what Belial had done to these poor souls; this was the very thing the Legion of Asgard fought against, protecting all against the cancerous taint of Abyssal Dark that sought to hollow and enslave all it touched…he couldn’t help but feel that he had failed them all. He slew the last of the initial wave at the very moment the first of the reinforcements rushed forward and deadly curses scalded the air when steel met steel.

  “You’re fucking barred!!” Jenko screamed as he impaled an onrushing soldier through the stomach and he balked briefly when the brown eyes beneath a scarred helm glowed silver as the borrowed Dark fled him. He glanced at Tellan then to shout of his observance, but his words were left forgotten in the face of a new approaching enemy. “Tellan!”

  Jenko’s warning bade Tellan spin, but he snarled in rage when fire erupted along his side and blood dripped from the deadly weapon that had scored him. The soldier snarled in triumph and was awarded a hefty headbutt in the face as Tellan rounded on him, for he was no stranger to battlefield wounds and the pain they brought. Jenko’s waistcoat had been slashed ragged by a lucky blade and behind the shredded material bloomed the stains of blood, but still he showed no signs of stopping as he raged through enemy after enemy.

  Tellan grunted as he was forced back from the impressive speed of a soldier’s attack, aware that he was tiring fast from the exertion his mortality tolled on him. A sharp kick to his chest sent Tellan reeling backwards and even as his back heavily shattered a nearby cupboard, his attacker’s deadly long sword rushed forward hungrily for his life. The soldier grunted in surprise when Tellan snatched his head, a brief flash of silver in hazel eyes as Tellan spun and smashed his enemy’s face into the jagged glass of the ruined cupboard doors. The body hung limply from the soldier’s shredded neck as blood seeped down in a torrent and Tellan reached opportunistically for a fallen chair nearby. With a scream of rage, he bashed an onrushing enemy with the chair and wood exploded into splinters as the soldier collapsed to the floor. Jenko followed up with a downward stab of a sabre, but a powerful rush from an unseen enemy knocked the breath from him and he crashed into a table with his attacker in tow.

  Jenko grunted as his sabres clattered to the ground, but even disarmed, the Asgardian was no less lethal and he snarled forward with his hands outstretched. The soldier’s eyes widened at how unexpectedly swift Jenko moved, unable to even so much as gasp before the abrupt snapping of his neck claimed his life. The enemy collapsed into a lifeless heap and as Jenko rolled backwards onto his feet, he swept his sabres back up into a hasty parry in defence of the new murderous blade that sought his face. He backed up until he was level with Tellan once more and as Tellan clove the head from Jenko’s new enemy, Jenko sagged panting when he realised his side had been punctured by a jagged splint of wood.

  “Shit.” He murmured through a grunt of pain as he sized up the new line of snarling soldiers that prowled before them, “My waistcoat is completely ruined.”

  Tellan sighed shortly at him, incredulous that he could joke at a time such as this; but when he turned briefly he saw the wound that bled his brother badly. He knew then that Jenko had to be taken out of conflict if he had any hope in surviving his wound and from the grim look upon Jenko’s face, he knew it himself.

  “Go on,” Jenko said wearily as he indicated Reya’s escape route with a hitch of his head, “get going.”

  “Not yet, brother.” Tellan replied thickly through a jaw set in firm resolution. He had already failed Baldur…he was adamant that he wasn’t about to fail Jenko now, “I won’t allow you to die too.”

  Jenko huffed a laugh and eyed the soldiers that circled deliberately around them. “I’m touched,” he muttered sardonically through a smile, “but did I say anything about us dying?”

  Tellan’s eyes flickered with a mild glower of disapproval at his comrade’s mocking manner, but a smile ticked at his lips when he saw Jenko had surreptitiously dipped his fingers into his waistcoat pocket. The soldiers circled them ominously, their blades as sharp and deadly as the false Dark that burned with an infernal light behind their eyes, and Tellan feigned forward with a lunge that goaded for retaliation. Two of the soldiers immediately close to him responded with eager snarls, and with their first step came a small, ceramic sphere lobbed high into the crowd.

  The sphere shattered on the floor with a soft, ceramic tinkle and suddenly black darkness plumed into the air like the blossoming of a storm, thick and heavy and choking in its density. Tellan clutched a hand over his face and squinted into the darkness as it billowed and swelled into the room, black swirls of viscous hue that obliterated everything from sight. He turned abruptly when the sharp ring of metal burst out loudly and with it came the sight of Jenko, walking so casually down the rows of casks behind the bar as he whacked their taps off with the hilt of a sabre. The sharp stink of alcohol mingled into the cloud of smoke, and with it came the gulping gurgle of liquid as the contents of every cask vomited onto the floor.

  Jenko hitched his arm silently in a gesture that Tellan should come to him and when Tellan vaulted over the bar amid the violent coughs and splutters of the enemy, Jenko reached for the small tinderbox he kept behind the bar for emergencies. Tellan hauled the trapdoor open and as he dropped down the first few steps of the cellar s
tairs, Jenko struck his flint with a mild grunt at the injury in his side that he could no longer ignore. But when the flint sparked and caught light against the trail of alcohol that trickled before him, his wince was not for the pain of his wounds, but for the value of his stock.

  When the first flicker of flame met the casks, a deafening explosion erupted like the wakening of a volcano, and through the blossom of ravenous flames came the rush of a pouncing soldier. The flying figure crashed into Tellan with such force that they clattered messily down the cellar steps entangled together, and Jenko cursed at the unexpected ferocity of such an attack. He swiftly ducked into the cellar after the tumbling pair and as he slammed the trapdoor shut, the soldiers above frantically pounded and screamed against the fire that devoured the bar hungrily. Jenko fumbled with the trapdoor’s secondary bolt as Tellan feverishly wrestled with his relentless attacker and when the bolt finally slammed home with a screech of metal, Jenko gasped gratefully. He desperately leapt down the rest of the steps to come to Tellan’s aid, however it wasn’t until Tellan and his opponent separated with twin snarls that Jenko’s stomach dropped in absolute horror.

  Belial! So it is true…He thought as he looked upon the demon prince’s prowling form, incredulous that their ancient enemy was alive after all these years.

  In that moment Jenko was transported back to that horrific night, atop the battlements of that fated castle ruin and his heart clenched at the remembrance of Belial’s infernal weapon speared through his body. His eyes showed him the moment the stones had crumbled beneath his brother Timran’s feet like the disintegration of a swollen riverbank and, like the aftermath of a terrible nightmare, came the vision of the moon in the sky through a cloud of thick dust.

  But Jenko’s momentary shock was halted by an opportunistic strike against him, for Belial had regained his fallen long sword and swooped in with a powerful strike that rang deafeningly against his sabres. Jenko gasped as his wound pulled agonisingly from the strength of the demon’s attack and as he was forced down onto a knee, a roar from Tellan brought the crashing, deadly weight of his bastard sword. Belial delivered a quicksilver, powerful front kick into Jenko’s chest and lifted his demonic sword in a strong guard that thwarted the decent of Tellan’s mighty weapon. Jenko sprawled gasping in soundless agony at the force inflicted upon his chest and as he fell on his back, he swept his legs in a vicious arc that sought Belial’s ankles.

  Belial leapt back with a demonic hiss and within that moment, the three men stood with heavy breath, staring at one another with the ferocity of an ancient hatred. Belial grinned evilly at Tellan, for he recognised the prize of who his opponents were and the prospect of destroying this particular celestial Light was one that he savoured with great relish. This Asgardian bastard had nearly killed him when he had Fallen; he was a demon prince, the strongest of all Abyssal kin…only Tellan and Baldur had ever come close to ending his Dark and such a claim was a harsh impact upon Belial’s pride.

  He glanced towards the other being who brandished twin sabres at him and snarled in dark recognition; this one was not just another angel either, but the third of Baldur’s kin who had ambushed him in his lair on the southern coast. If Jenko had been human, Belial would have shown no hesitation in continuing the fight…but he had witnessed first–hand the damage these two Asgardians could do when they were united on the battlefield. Belial’s mercurial eyes snaked between his opponents shrewdly as he evaluated the situation, and when he realised that – as much as he had no injuries and could match Jenko’s speed and Tellan’s strength individually – the two angels combined meant that a stalemate had been reached.

  Belial wearily exhaled his acceptance at length and focused the entirety of his attention on Tellan. “All I want is the girl.” He said reasonably, “Give her to me and you can both walk away.”

  Jenko spat on the ground in derision, “Your silver tongue has tarnished, Belial. We’re not interested.”

  “Shut your mouth, whelp! I was speaking to your better!” Belial snarled and the flame of indignation blazed in Jenko’s eyes as the demon focused upon Tellan once more, “Be reasonable, Tellan…the girl is of no use to you.”

  Tellan’s mouth ticked in a dangerous smile and his bastard sword never wavered in its guard when he calmly replied, “‘No use’…and why should she be of interest to you?”

  “What does it matter to you? She is nothing but a mortal, only fit for the slaughter.”

  Tellan held the slight smile on his face as he studied Belial in silence. He knew within his heart that if Belial truly desired some form of simplistic, fatal retribution against Baldur then he would have had no hesitation in just killing Reya. But instead he was very much aware that the demon prince was bartering with him…that he wanted her alive…but for what purpose, Tellan couldn’t say. It sent a chill of warning through his spine that crackled within his fingers and he clenched his jaw against the implications that Belial needed Reya for some other dark reason that was unfathomable to him.

  Finally, he said with a clear voice that echoed with protective guardianship, “She is under our protection.”

  Belial stared at Tellan with rigid anger in his face; he knew then that steadfast Tellan would never be swayed from the path he had chosen, but the angel still knew where the girl had gone. He glanced across at Jenko, who glared with an almost electric fury that ached to be released and Belial smiled cruelly; this one…he could goad him into revealing Reya’s location.

  “You Asgardians…” Belial began wearily with a disgusted shake of his head, “Still fighting a war that’s long forgotten you. Baldur was a fool to Fall after me–”

  “Say that again, demon bastard, I fucking dare you.” Jenko interjected harshly, swallowing Belial’s bait like a hapless fish as his sabres flicked through the air like the tails of angry tigers.

  “This is the last time I’ll offer this!” Belial shouted to stoke the embers of Jenko’s rage, “If you don’t give her to me now, I will lay waste to this city! Everything you fight for, Asgard; nothing will be safe from my wrath!”

  “Brave words from the coward who’s been in hiding for fifteen years! We’re here now, Belial…come and finish this if you think you can walk out of here alive!!”

  “Your hollow threats mean nothing to me! Baldur was just the beginning: all of you will die like the honourless cattle you have become, like he became!!”

  Tellan screamed in a sudden rage that devoured him and his vision flared red as he launched forward with his bastard sword raised, its steel hungry for Belial’s flesh. Belial snarled at the unexpected break in Tellan’s composure and met the devastating strike of the bastard sword with one of his own; but Tellan’s ferocious swing all but knocked his weapon from his grip. Jenko surged forward with a flurry of his sabres that pressed the advantage on Belial’s momentary weakness and as the demon prince hastily fought the wall of steel, Tellan surged forward like a swooping eagle. Jenko brought a sabre downwards in a sweep that sought Belial’s knee and even as the demon’s stance shifted from its immediate danger, Tellan thrust a mighty side kick that slammed into his chest.

  Belial was propelled backwards into the stacks of ale casks that lined the cellar walls and as the breath rushed from him with a great explosion of force, he glared up at the approaching angels. But when the slightest suggestion of a breeze passed across his face, the danger of the attacking Asgardians abruptly faded into the background of his mind. A flash of demonic insight blazed through him then and he snarled triumphantly in new dark knowledge…there was a hidden exit somewhere nearby. And given that the fire devoured the inn above, Reya had to be close…she was within his grasp at last.

  Belial pushed himself off the barrel at the same moment Tellan roared forward with a deadly thrust and as the bastard sword plunged into the barrel he had been prone against, Belial turned towards the breeze that whispered enticingly through the cellar. He all but ignored Jenko’s aggressive rush of attack and the angel sailed by with a grunt as Belia
l turned the position of his back foot with the barest of pivots, for something far more important had ensnared his attention. He surged hungrily towards the tiny reflection of light his demonic eyes had seized upon and as he plucked the single strand of long, honey coloured hair that had become trapped on the ragged edge of a barrel, Belial’s grin cracked into a terrible hiss of victory.

  In that moment, an all–consuming fear gripped Tellan’s heart with rusted needles and his mouth hung open in a silent gasp as Belial’s gaze speared the smuggler’s barrel. He desperately rushed forward upon Belial’s first step towards Reya’s path and as he tackled Belial to the ground, he realised too late that his bastard sword was still lodged in the barrel.

  “Jenko!” He roared as he gripped Belial’s arms and forced him down onto the floor with all of his weight. Belial snarled as Tellan twisted his arms into a firm hold that would have held any mortal, but the demon was swift in struggling free and ferociously jammed the heel of his palm under Tellan’s jaw.

  “Go!” Tellan roared as he bent Belial’s arm and smashed his elbow into his face, knowing that within this close quarters struggle, time would be of the essence.

  Jenko simply nodded in response and as he headed for the smuggler’s barrel, he gripped a hand against his wound that seeped new blood. The relentless aggression of Belial’s attack had worsened the wound and Jenko winced at the wetness that cloyed his clothing stickily to him. He didn’t hesitate even when Tellan and Belial became locked in a desperate struggle, for even as they writhed and punched one another viciously, Jenko knew he had only moments to reach Reya. As he ducked through the barrel’s doorway, he could only hope with a heavy heart that Tellan had enough left to hold on…

 

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