The Adventure of the Post-Traumatic Redemption
Page 6
him, she also knew her Aunt wouldn't bluff either.
"It's all right, Mr. Holt, I'll be safe with her. I want you to help get the others out, and then retake my house."
He looked at her with an expression that mixed doubt and pride. "Are you sure, Miss?"
"Yes, I am. Now, please, the best thing you can do for me is drive the enemy out."
He nodded. "Very well, Miss, as you command." He saluted, then turned on his heels and jogged out into the hallway.
Mandy watch him from the doorway as half the guards moved behind Differel. "I commend you, Niece, you probably saved his life." She then shut and locked the door before turning around.
"Take her!"
Two of the guards grabbed her by the arms. Surprised, she tried to get away, but they had solid grips before she could move.
"Wha--? What's the meaning of this?! Let me go at once!" She tried to sound defiant, but she was too scared to sound like anything other than hysterical.
"Shut up, you little tramp!" Mandy barked. "I have taken as much from you and your family as I intend to stand!"
Genuinely perplexed, Differel asked, "What're you talking about? You are part of my family!"
Mandy's face clouded into a look of rage such as Differel had never seen before. "Your family?! Do not talk filth to me! I am a Pendragon! My people have been combating monsters for centuries, and we never needed on 'Order' to aid us. Compared to us, you Van Helsings are mere infants. If it was not for a Pendragon, Dracula would have killed your ancestor Abraham in the Borgo Pass a hundred years ago. Yet you usurped our duty, stole our glory, and destroyed our honour by making us subservient to your wretched family! But that ends today. I will recover what we lost, and I will reclaim what was stolen from me."
She wasn't making any sense. Differel wondered if she was mad. "Stolen from you?"
"I was the oldest daughter; I should have become the Pendragon! I should have been the protector of England, the one who defended Queen, Church, and Country from paranormal threats. But my birthright was taken from me and given to my sister, unworthy though she was. And then she violated tradition by marrying your father! Unforgivable! But she was not censured, and though she gave up the title of her own free will, rather than grant it to me she held it in trust for her daughter! Unbelievable!"
"But...I'm a Pendragon, too! The same blood as yours flows thro--"
Mandy slapped her across the face hard enough to almost dislodge her glasses. "You filthy little slag! You are no more a Pendragon than your mealy-mouthed butler!"
"What have you done to him?! To my people?"
"Have no fear, your 'people' are safe. I arranged for a diversion, to keep them busy. They won't return until tomorrow, after I give the all clear. By that time, I will have finished with you, and they will be unable to do anything about it."
Now she turned genuinely angry. "Traitor! Wasn't running the Order enough for you? Are you so jealous that you lust after the rest as well? Are you really willing to do this?!"
"Not only willing, but prepared, Niece."
"Then you're nothing but a bloody rotten scumbag! If you think you can just kill me and get away with it --!"
She stopped when Mandy flashed a wicked leer. "Kill you? On the contrary, I intend to keep you very much alive!" And she nodded to the nurse.
She stepped forward, and for the first time Differel noticed she carried a covered pan. She stopped just in front of her, lifted off the cover and tossed it onto the bed, and reached inside.
She pulled out a monstrosity: a cross between a snake and a slug, six inches long and one in diameter, covered in glistening mucus, writhing and shrieking in a thin, high-pitched, wavering tone.
"Give it to me!" Mandy commanded.
She handed the creature over and Mandy bent down towards her.
"NO!" Differel fought, trying to get loose, as she shook her head from side to side.
"Hold her!" A guard behind her grabbed her head and pushed his fingers into her cheeks, forcing her mouth open. Mandy inserted the index finger of her free hand and wrenched her lower jaw down. She cried out from the pain and tried to bite, but the guard's grip was too strong. Mandy held the eyeless snake-slug by the tail and positioned it head-down over her mouth. She felt fluid drip of its snout onto her tongue.
From "Dark Vengeance"
Medb hErenn knelt to examine the track in the soft earth. Though shaped like the rear paw of a bear, it was at least three times normal size. What struck her as more odd, however, was that, while the line of tracks stretched for several yards along the crest of the ridge, she could not see a single print of a forepaw.
She stood and gazed down the slope towards the plain below. It was covered with thick, tall grass, patches of ground-hugging herbs, and late-spring flowers, but at the base the land flattened into a broad, shrub-filled heath that stretched off towards a lake. Behind it stood a line of purple, white-capped mountains, still imposing despite their great distance. Closer, a forest filled her view, stretching off to the edge of the lake and to her right beyond her sight behind the line of the ridge, but it ended at the border of an expanse of moor to her left. Its coniferous trees were so thick they formed a dark, blue-green mass that looked as solid as the mountains themselves. And as she studied the landscape, she clearly saw the lone figure making its way through the moor towards its center. Even with her keen eyesight she could discern little, except that it was a tall, ursine creature, flabby, with a dirty-ivory coat of fur mottled with patches of tan. And it walked upright on two short, thick legs.
A young warrior walked up abreast of her and followed her gaze. "You were right," he said in a stoical manner. By name T'lingit, he was tall, muscular, and very handsome, with copper skin, dark brown eyes, and straight blue-black hair cut shoulder length. He wore a heavy white shirt made from goat wool and cedarbark fiber, which came midway down his shins and was decorated with highly stylized designs in black, yellow, and turquoise, which depicted his clan's animal totems. A thick blanket, made from the same material and decorated with similar designs, was draped over his shoulders and closed over his chest with a whalebone pin. On his head he wore a conical, wide-brimmed, low-crowned hat woven from the roots of spruce trees, and on his feet soft-soled, knee-high sealskin boots. He carried his weapons of honor: a bow and quiver of arrows for hunting; a whalebone knife; a warclub of redwood with a stone blade, dangling from a harness swung over one shoulder; and a trio of spruce spears sporting blades carved from mussel shells, carefully balanced on his other shoulder.
Without looking at him, she replied, "It gives me no pleasure." She was taller than T'lingit, but only by half a head. She was, however, more massive. She had wide shoulders and hips, with thick arms and thighs, and large, firm, well-rounded breasts and buttocks, but also a narrow waste and a hard, flat stomach. Her long, oval face with its sharp features was more handsome than beautiful, but her amber-colored skin was smooth and perfect, and her emerald-green eyes mesmerizing. She wore her gold-tinted, bronze-colored hair long, straight, and loose, except for two braids that hung from either side of her head down her front to her waist. She secured it with a band of silvered bronze around her head just above her brow, and she wore a neckring made of heavy twisted gold, open at her throat, with the ends capped with two large, uncut red gems. Her own armament consisted of a dirk with a thick foot-long blade and a sword with a narrow three-foot blade secured to a belt woven from leather strips; an oblong wooden shield reinforced with a metal rim, spokes, and a large central boss; six four-foot javelins secured in a special harness attached to the backside of the shield behind the arm holds; and two eight-foot spears with large, serrated metal blades. However, except for the cloak she wore from her native Erin, secured at one shoulder with a brooch of bronze, and the fact that she went bareheaded, she had adopted the dress of her native hosts.
"Nonetheless," he persisted, "you seem to understand the Crusher better than we do." The "we" referred to his tribe, among whom Medb had been living for the p
ast six years.
"I have intimate knowledge of the Otherworld and its inhabitants, and I do not exaggerate. Though your culture is foreign to mine, our myths and legends seem to follow the same path."
The warrior shook his head. "What you say goes beyond my understanding, but that matters little. It is more important that we have found it, and that you know its habits, or at least can accurately guess them. How do you suggest we proceed?"
"You said there was a hunting lodge nearby?"
He pointed down the slope to their right. "Yes, at the base of the ridge, built into the side of the hill." Then he realized her purpose in asking. "Surely you do not mean to spend the night there. Why delay? Let us go after it now, while we can still track it."
Medb looked up at the sky. "No, it is getting late." And indeed the sky was darkening rapidly. "We could not reach the moor before nightfall, and I have no desire to navigate it in the dark. Do you? Besides, we need food and rest, and a plan of attack; we need time to prepare."
"Very well, the lodge is this way."
They walked down the slope. Once at the foot of the ridge they turned right and followed its length until they came to a wooden structure protruding from a particularly steep section of its face. Like the houses of T'lingit's village,