The Assassin and the Knight

by Rick Bonogofsky

  The Assassin and the Knight

  Rick Bonogofsky

  CHAPTER ONE

  The grey clad knight’s hand rested comfortably on the pommel of his sword, an ornate, holy blade once blessed by Heaven’s light, as he patrolled the halls of his lord’s tower in Hell. His armor creaked under the cloth tabard bearing the royal crest and his grey-feathered wings rustled as he walked. He remained wary of threats but felt secure in the knowledge that no enemies were near. The kingdom had known peace for over ten years, hard won by King Dante. The knight had been born just before the troubles began, and was trained since he was a child to serve in the king’s army. By the time the knight’s time as a squire was over, the battles had ended, the enemy vanquished, and he was glad for it. As well-suited as he was to fighting, the knight abhorred violence of any kind thanks to his angelic heritage. He ran his hand through his sandy-brown hair and shook his head, smiling slightly at his musings. He was an angel who hated violence, and he was a knight in service to his stepfather, the king of Hell. Not only was he a knight in charge of Hell’s armies, he was also the commander of the royal guard. Protection through violence was his entire job description.

  He looked through a window overlooking the tower’s training hall where his knights were training and smiled, his heart swelling with pride as he watched the demons and devils under his command hard at work. They were responsible for the tower’s safety, as well as that of the royal family. His gaze moved over each knight, finally resting on one demoness in particular. Her name was Anna, and she was a special knight, a secret favorite of the captain’s. She inspired romantic feelings in his heart, leaving him yearning for her touch. But she knew nothing of his thoughts toward her. He was, after all, an angel, and she was a demon. Could such a pairing even be allowed? He thought that he had remembered some story from the history books about an angel falling in love with a demon, but the texts were oddly vague about it, other than detailing the short time it lasted. The texts were from a time long before King Dante’s reign, some of the dates even reaching as far back as King Osiris’ rule. The angel grinned at himself and continued his patrol, leaving thoughts of Anna behind.

  “Did my little brother Vincent think of something funny?” came a teasing voice from behind the knight.

  He turned and looked at his half-brother, Adrian, son of the king, and shook his head. “You’re the one with the jokes,” he replied. “I take it you’re back from another mission, then?”

  Adrian nodded, his overgrown black hair swaying with the motion. His crimson eyes glowed between the strands that fell in front of his face and his grin revealed sharp fangs. “The werewolf and his entire pack never knew what hit them,” the prince snickered. “They couldn‘t handle my devilish charms,” he added with exaggerated bravado.

  The knight sighed and rolled his eyes at the terrible pun, one of many Adrian seemed so fond of spouting “Devils aren‘t very charming, you know.”

  “Hey, none of that, brother,” Adrian chuckled, playfully putting Vincent into a short lived headlock. “I’m funny, and you know it. Stop poking holes in my jokes”

  Vincent shook his head again, smoothing he tousled hair, and resumed his patrol, motioning for Adrian to follow. “You don’t fear any retaliation, then?” he asked, mostly for the sake of making conversation than for any reassurance.

  “None,” Adrian said confidently, walking beside his brother. “Not only are the warriors dead, I also took out their families. No mutt from that bloodline exists anymore.”

  Vincent looked sidelong at Adrian and tried to gauge the demon’s demeanor. Adrian’s eyes were locked forward, his jaw clenched. As much as the demon prince loved killing, wiping out entire families, children and all, ate at him. But as Hell’s master assassin, it was Adrian’s duty to destroy the kingdom’s enemies.

  Sensing Vincent’s scrutiny, Adrian forced a small grin on his face and shrugged. “It’s my job, what can I say?” he chuckled. “I did take a tiny bit of enjoyment in it, though. After all, they were werewolves. Vermin, I say. Bunch of dog men, scratching and pawing at society, never welcome anywhere. And they smell! My god, do they smell.”

  Vincent smiled at that, knowing his brother was putting up a facade, masking his disgust at killing innocents with his hatred of all lycanthropes. “Well, at least you’re home again. Mother has been missing you.”

  “She worries,” Adrian muttered, his visage softening at the mention of his beloved mother. “She shouldn’t. I was trained by my father directly, and I fought in the battles while you still played soldier with the other children. She knows I can handle myself.”

  “She’s still our mother. She will always worry about us,” Vincent countered. They left the main halls and walked onto the pathways leading up the outside of the tower. The low parapets afforded a grand view of the surrounding region, overlooking the rim of the great volcano where the tower floated, anchored by enormous chains. The brothers took a moment to look out over the city set around the base of the volcano, stretching out for miles in every direction. The city, called Laarsa, had been built during the reign of Osiris and was fiercely defended when the enemy threatened it. Hell’s army was deeply entrenched within the city’s walls, lashing out at the enemy force until the rebel invaders were finally pushed back. King Dante himself had led the charge, sending the enemy back across the surface of Hell and back to the unclaimed regions that lay outside of the kingdom. That was the last any demon or devil had ever seen of the rebellious invading force.

  “Finally peaceful, though,” Vincent mentioned.

  Adrian nodded, his crimson eyes scanning the city of Laarsa. He was always looking for danger, always watchful. Vincent was too young to remember the carnage that had nearly overwhelmed their home. If it was not vampires or werewolves, it would be another uprising of rebels from other regions of Hell.

  “I saw you watching her again,” Adrian muttered, trying to tear his thoughts away from the war.

  Vincent felt his face flush red and his fingers tapped nervously on the stone. “You did? Well, you know how I get,” he replied shakily, making no attempt to hide his secret from his ever watchful brother.

  “Just tell her, little brother,” Adrian urged. “What’s the worst that will happen?”

  “I get stripped of my rank, or she does, or she gets exiled,” Vincent deadpanned. “Or she says she doesn’t feel the same about me.”

  “You know father would never do that to either of you,” Adrian countered. “And if she tells you to hit the bricks and kick rocks, then at least you’ll know how she feels, and you can move the hell on from her. But, I’m willing to bet that she might not be so against it.”

  “It isn’t father I’m worried about,” Vincent said, shaking his head. “It’s the council. They’re the ones in charge of the armies.”

  “Father overrules them, why must I constantly remind you of that? He is king, and they serve him.”

  Vincent shrugged, lowering his eyes. “But should a pairing even exist? A demon and an angel? When was the last time that happened? Back in Osiris’ days?”

  Adrian thought for a moment and nodded. “Exactly. Osiris and Isis. He was a demon - and our direct ancestor, I might add - and she was an angel.”

  “He was your ancestor, Adrian,” Vincent gently corrected.

  Adrian rolled his eyes. “Fine, remind me again that you’re only my half-brother.”

  “Anyway,” Vincent sighed, “we should really keep moving. As soon as my patrol is ended, we are to report to father. Seems he had need of us.”

  “Fine. Did he say what for?” Adrian inquired.

  Vincent shrugged. “He didn’t say. He didn’t seem too agitated, though, so I’m sur
e it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

  Adrian grinned. “We do make a good team,” he laughed, playfully slapping Vincent’s armored shoulder. “And remember, we’re continuing this discussion later.”

  Their patrol ended, Vincent and Adrian walked into the main audience hall, where Dante sat on his throne and addressed the court. His wife, Queen Staci, sat on his left in her own throne, lending her kind and gentle support. She took to being Hell’s queen quite well, despite her human heritage. She smiled warmly as her sons entered the hall and took their places beside the thrones. Adrian stood at his father’s right hand, while Vincent stood at his mother’s left. They stood in place for nearly an hour as visiting dignitaries and military leaders gave reports and asked for aid, all the while being wary of potential threats to the kingdom.

  As the hall emptied, Dante turned to his sons and motioned for them to stand before him. “Hello, Adrian,” he greeted warmly. “How was the mission?”

  Adrian drew his sword, a wicked, hellish-looking blade sprouting from a ruby chrysanthemum, and held it in front of him, keeping it parallel to the floor. “My sword has tasted the blood of nearly three dozen of the filthy dogs. Their bloodline is ended, and they shall never again rise up to plot against our kingdom.” He slid the rough-edged blade back into its scabbard and took a step back, allowing Vincent to step forward.

  Dante looked to his adopted son, the angelic son of his one-time nemesis, Victor, and nodded. “Patrol went well, today, Vincent?” he asked. His loving tone never shifted as he looked from Adrian to Vincent. Dante loved both men equally and considered Vincent just as much of a son as Adrian was. He had always made sure to show Vincent that he felt that way.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. I have added a few more of my knights to the walls and bridge access to shore up our defenses should it be needed. The tower is quiet and peaceful.”

  “Good,” Dante replied. “Excellent work, son.”

  The two brothers beamed at the compliment. They knew they were both loved equally by their parents, even if Vincent was the son of an angel. Dante had told him as much when he was still a child, and the good king had even given Vincent his father’s armor and sword. Dante had told him wondrous tales of Victor’s life, wanting Vincent to know who his father was, while leaving out the moments of weakness and how the two of them had fought, leading to Dante killing Victor. He felt it was only right that the boy should know his heritage and be proud of what he was, and that included dressing the part. Vincent wore the armor with pride, along with the crest of Hell’s royal family emblazoned on his tabard. His father’s sword hung comfortably at his hip, and was practically an extension of his own arm in combat.

  Vincent stepped back, falling in line with Adrian, and the brothers awaited the king’s request.

  “You two are wondering why I asked for you, then,” the king stated more than asked.

  The brothers nodded in unison.

  “Well,” Dante sighed. “It seems we aren’t quite through with the vampires who invaded all those years ago.”

  "Vampires," Adrian hissed with obvious distaste. "That scum is in no way better than werewolves." He held a particular hatred for the undead, feeling they were unnatural abominations.

  Vincent’s own misgivings about vampires was plainly displayed on his face as well, but he kept his harsh words from spilling out. He felt there was no real need for any more negativity on the subject.

  Dante nodded grimly. “Since we failed to kill their lord and master, it appears that he has amassed a new army of thralls to try to overthrow us again. Our scouts have reported a massive army gathering in Greece. More particularly, they camp near a cave only mentioned in ancient legends among the humans.”

  “You mean the one that supposedly links Hell and Earth physically, don’t you?” Vincent guessed.

  “I thought it was only a myth,” Adrian said. “How can it even exist? There should be no possible way to physically link the two worlds.”

  “Normally I would agree,” Dante replied softly. “But I have sent out several of my best scouts to ascertain the truth of this link. Not only did they find it, but it looks as if it bears a striking resemblance to the Greek legends. There is even a river that flows through the cavern, and they claim to have been able to follow the river all the way to Earth.”

  “Wait, how in all of history has this not already been discovered?” Vincent asked. “I mean, there are legends on Earth about how human heroes would come to Hell on some adventure or another. We have instances in history that match up with those legends. Why are we finding out now that this link exists?”

  Dante shrugged. “Could be that the actual location was never mapped, or the notes were lost. I can’t really say. All I know is that the vampire thralls are planning on using the tunnel to enter Hell and attack.”

  Vincent and Adrian looked at each other in disbelief. Then, Adrian grinned. “Sounds like a great place for an ambush to me,” he mused.

  Dante smiled. “Exactly my idea. I want the two of you to take your best men and set up an ambush. I will set up a relay of scouts to report in to me and I will send in some troops to wipe out the stragglers. We will not have a repeat of the war that raged all those years ago. Hell will have no more orphans while I rule. Now, come closer, and I will implant into your minds everything the scouts have given me.” Dante reached forward, placed his hands on the bowed heads of his sons and magically inserted all of the images and strategic information the scouts had given him.

  That done, Adrian and Vincent nodded, turned on their heels, and left the audience hall. The two brothers made for the barracks located within the tower. Victor entered quietly, as was his preferred way, but still captured the attention of his knights. They immediately stood to attention and saluted him. Adrian burst in with his usual exuberance and held his arms out wide, proclaiming his presence to every soldier.

  “We have a job, ladies and gentlemen!” he exclaimed. “Assassins and scouts with me, knights and soldiers with my brother! The princes have need of your fine works.”

  The men and women within the barracks were a mixture of demons and devils, half trained as soldiers for the defense of the kingdom, the other half trained by Adrian to be assassins, killers for hire. Without question, the soldiers followed their respective commander and the group split into two groups, each group entering a separate room.

  Inside Adrian’s war room, the lead assassin hopped up onto the central table and used it as his stage.

  “Men, women, others,” he greeted, clasping his hands behind his back. “We have been tasked with yet another mission. Now, I know what some of you are thinking. ‘O, Adrian, lord and master, surely you must be weary from your last mission – the one you only came back from earlier today?’ Well, you can stop thinking that. My father, our king, has informed myself and Sir Vincent that the vamps are back at our doorstep. This time, kinda literally.”

  “Lord, I thought we beat them back last time?” asked one demon, a heavily scarred brute who had the misfortune of fighting alongside Adrian in the war. Some of his scars were caused by a younger and much more reckless Adrian, and most of those were accidental.

  “We did,” Adrian replied. “Trouble is, we failed to kill their king, so he still seeks to kill ours. Typical game of chess, I suppose, if I ever had the patience to learn how to play the damn game. No, their king is still very much alive and still very much hidden from us. Otherwise I would have already killed him and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Anyway, we learned the leeches are using an old cave on Earth to enter Hell. Yes, I know, you’re all probably thinking that should be impossible. Well, it apparently isn’t. Our job is to move ahead of Vincent’s knights and set up an ambush. The vamps fall into our trap, we kill a few, the knights mop up.”

  “Excellent plan, sir!” a devil scout chimed in.

  “Yes,” Adrian grinned, pointing at the exuberant devil. “Yes it is. Now stop kissing my ass and pay attention.” He hopped down
from the table and waved his hand over the raised stone. Red energy flowed from his palm and swirled over the war table. What looked like stalagmites rose from an uneven floor and several ledges jutted from the walls. The energy took the form of the cave in question, according to descriptions from the scouts, and the demons and devils in attendance watched as a river of burgundy snaked its way through the image. Adrian pointed with his free hand to the hanging stalactites and said, “We’ll have some of you posted up here, hidden in the ceiling. Those with magic will use levitation spells to stay aloft. Those without will have to do it the old fashioned way – you’ll climb. Those of you with gills, you’ll be in the river. And I mean literally in the river, in case that’s in any way unclear.”

  He was met with upraised and unamused eyebrows.

  “What?” Adrian grinned. “I’ve had to deal with some surprisingly dumb soldiers before. Anyway, I’ll need the rest of you folks up on the ledges, where our spell casters will cast an illusion to keep you hidden. I will be here.” He pointed at the exact center of the map, indicating a rock formation that stood out from the wall and placed him directly over the river.

  “Sir,” one demoness asked, “what about the laws?”

  “Great question, Kara,” Adrian smiled. He waved his free hand and summoned blue energy that wafted into the cave and formed a translucent wall directly in the middle of the map. “This is the border between Hell and Earth. We are in place simply to kill anything that tries to flee. As long as we keep the fighting behind my location here, our battle will be a defensive one, and we will be breaking no laws. The blood-suckers will be invading our territory, and we will be well within our rights to dust these bastards. So, you know, we get to kill them all without fear of retribution from on high.”

  The assembled demons and devils nodded their approval and smiled collectively.

  “So we’re all in agreement, then?” Adrian asked, grinning widely. “I’m not just some idiot with a stupid plan?”