The Assassin and the Knight

by Rick Bonogofsky

  As he walked, Adrian felt his mind wandering homeward again and again. No matter how much he forced it away. He berated himself for not appearing to his parents and announcing his presence to them. They were heartbroken, and he had a chance to bring them some form of peace. Of course, then his father would blame himself for wrongly banishing Vincent, but at least they, as a family, could then make steps to correct the mistake. It did not matter to Adrian that Vincent was guilty of the crime of murder, all he cared about was bringing his captive brother home again. While Vincent had committed treason in the worst way, Adrian still viewed him as his brother. He forgave him already, and would beg for forgiveness for himself for killing the woman Vincent loved. It was clear to Adrian that she was innocent in all of this, and had nothing to do with the break-ins at the weapon caches.

  Adrian could not help a sardonic smile from spreading across his face. It seemed like a lifetime ago when he killed Anna. Technically, it had literally been a lifetime plus a few weeks for him, what with his recent death. But it no longer mattered. What was done was in the past, and Adrian was determined to keep moving forward. The more he focused on the past, the less he could see the present, much less the future. He needed to clear his mind and focus on what was directly ahead of him. Adrian fished through his satchel, rummaging through the various items, shifting his arm out of the way, and eventually found what he was looking for. It was a small electronic device that he had once stolen from a human. It was encased in a thin steel case with a few small buttons on one side. It had taken Adrian and his team a few minutes of research on Earth to figure out it was a music player. He pulled the earbuds out by their cord, plugged the jack into the device and pressed play. He had erased the human’s terrible music from the device’s memory and added his own favorites from Earth’s various genres. He did not indulge in listening to music this way very often, preferring to be able to hear anything going on around him, but it was the best way for him to be able to calm his thoughts and focus on the task at hand.

  The assassin made good time traversing the hills and mountains of Greece until he came to a road. There, he shifted his cloak to hide the fact that he was missing an arm and continued walking along the easier path. All roads eventually led to a city, and according to his map, this one made its way southward to Tripoli. It was one of the few main roads remaining from before the war, and Adrian hoped a kind passerby would stop to give him a ride. As much as he hated relying on strangers, he was getting tired. He never knew how difficult it was to have to continuously shift his weight to offset the missing limb until then. It left him walking with a slight lean to the right, which was causing him to feel a constant ache in his back. He thought putting the satchel and his sword on that side would help, but it simply did not work.

  After a few more hours of walking and cars driving by, a vehicle slowed and finally stopped several yards away from Adrian. He jogged to reach the car, where a smiling old man sat in the driver’s seat. He was dressed in blue denim pants and a striped shirt, and looked friendly enough to the demon.

  “Hello,” Adrian said tentatively, placing his left hand on the car door. He realized that being in Greece meant not everyone understood English.

  “Geiá sou!” the driver greeted. At least, Adrian thought it sounded like a greeting. He could not understand the man at all since he had never taken the time to learn the Greek language.

  Adrian offered an apologetic smile, and said, “I could use a ride if you’re able. I would certainly appreciate it.”

  “Pou pigaíneis?” the driver asked, and as far as Adrian could tell, he was asking where he was going. He hoped.

  The demon sighed, beginning to get frustrated at not being able to understand the human’s speech. He shrugged, indicating he did not know what the man was saying.

  “Den katalavaínete mia léxi pou léo, étsi?” he asked, chuckling at what the demon thought was a joke. He laughed along and nodded, feeling incredibly embarrassed at his own lack of understanding.

  “I’m trying to get to Athens, sir,” Adrian explained. He felt stupid for not learning more than a few languages, and wished his brother was with him. Vincent knew several languages, and would be able to effectively communicate with the man.

  “O, Athína! Nai, boró na se páro ekeí.” The driver leaned over and unlocked the passenger door, waving at Adrian to get in. The demon grinned and slid into the seat, nodding his thanks.

  The two sat in relative silence, listening to the staticky radio whine out its music.

  “Giatí loipón ntytheís étsi?” the driver asked, waving a hand at Adrian. It took the demon a moment to realize the human was indicating his clothes.

  “Uh… Bad taste, I suppose?” Adrian stammered. Mercifully, the trip only took two hours to complete, and the driver turned to Adrian as the entered the city of Athens.

  “Poú boró na sas páro? Aftí i póli eínai epikíndyni kai den thélo na sas afíso opoudípote boreí na sas skotósei,” he said. Adrian shrugged, showing the kind man that he could not understand his words.

  “Pou pigaíneis?” the man asked, and Adrian recognized the phrase from earlier, hoping it meant to ask where he was headed.

  The demon racked his brain trying to remember where his contact liked to hang out, and said, “Acropolis?” hoping the driver would understand.

  The human grinned and nodded, saying, “Nai, xéro tin akrópoli! Tha se páro ekeí.”

  It was encouraging to Adrian, but he silently hoped he was not being taken someplace unpleasant. Judging by the friendliness of the human, however, he figured he was safe and the man was taking him to where he needed to go. Within a few minutes, the driver pulled up to the outer gates of the palace belonging to Athens’ ruling family.

  “Edó eímaste, fíle. Eche éna asfalés taxídi,” the driver said cheerfully. He patted Adrian on the shoulder as if the two were long lost friends.

  Adrian smiled at the man and thanked him with a grateful half-bow, at first trying to place his palms together, but remembering that he only had one palm left, he placed his left hand over where his heart used to be. He watched the man drive off, musing to himself that he would have to find new ways to express his thanks the next time he would be unable to say the words. Without a second hand, his usual way of thanking someone in the Japanese style was not an option. Without a heart, placing a hand on his heart just seemed insincere. He thought about creating his own way of showing thanks, but figured it would end up looking like a rude or obscene gesture to others. He shrugged his shoulders at the pointless musings and turned toward the Acropolis of Athens. The palace grounds spread out from the ancient building.

  Shortly before the war, the humans had decided to restore the millennia-old building, but during construction, some other humans came in and took the place over, claiming it as their own. While the actual building itself was indeed restored, it was also rebuilt in many places and became the centerpiece of the rest of what would become the large marble palace. The entire complex was gilded in gold and silver, adding a glorious shine whenever any light shone on it. Being situated on the large hill in the center of the city, it seemed to demand the attention of every person within several miles. Even the sun and moon seemed to give it more light than anywhere else in the city. Adrian did not know much more of the place’s history, but he at least knew his way around. He approached the gates, where he was immediately stopped by the guards. He faced them without worry and stood his ground.

  “I’m here to see Chorió Ilíthio,” Adrian announced with a slight feeling of exasperation. The only two words of Greek he knew, and they were the name chosen by his contact. The name translated to ‘village idiot.’ Among Adrian’s team, they joked that the name was fitting for the foolish man who chose it. Among the humans of Athens, the name was feared by all. The irony was not lost on the demon.

  The gate guards looked at Adrian with some confusion, then anger. “Who do you think you are?” one of them, a large man with a ridiculously s
haped beard, spat. His heavy accent made it difficult for Adrian to understand him.

  “I am a friend of your master. Well, that’s a bit of a stretch. I’m the devil.”

  The other guard, who had been staring at Adrian as if he was trying to remember something he would rather forget, spoke up. “Let him through, George. I remember this man. He is as he says.”

  George turned to his friend in confusion. “He’s the devil, Nicholas?”

  “I’m guessing you’re the smart one?” Adrian quipped, mocking the larger man.

  Nicholas shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was obviously tired of this exchange already. “No… No, George. He’s a friend of the boss. Don’t be an idiot.”

  Adrian smiled at George’s crestfallen look and walked past him while Nicholas opened the gates.

  “I will send word up to the boss,” Nicholas assured the demon. “At this time, he should be in the acropolis proper.”

  Adrian nodded his thanks, making a mental note to just keep doing that when he would not verbally thank someone. He walked through the gate, taking in the sights afforded him from this side of the high wall. Before he had made it very far into the complex, he noticed a runner heading up the hill ahead of him. Truthfully, the demon was glad for the car ride to the city. It had allowed him to get some much needed rest. He did not particularly want to be exhausted for his meeting with Chorió. Things had a tendency to go south for him when it came to the Village Idiot.

  He continued up the hill and into the ancient acropolis, where a large pool had been carved into the marble floor. Adrian held a brief thought of jumping in to cool off, but his lack of a right arm dissuaded him. He also thought the original builders would be turning in their respective graves if they knew how their structure was currently being used. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and looked around. There were several women lounging around the pool, none of them wearing anything more than the occasional tattoo or piercing. Adrian felt it fitting for the host to only have the most attractive women around him. As he remembered it, Chorió was always very adamant that he could easily have any woman he wanted, any time, without fail. His boasting seemed to be proved here, but Adrian knew the truth. These women were being paid to be here. They were pampered like royalty, but their host likely left them alone for the most part.

  At the far end of the pool, sitting in a padded marble throne, was Adrian’s contact. The scrawny man was barely over five feet tall, had wispy hair somewhere between the color of mud and dirty dishwater. He was still wet from his swim, so the hair was plastered to his scalp, which seemed to be just a little misshapen to Adrian. The human’s smile was just as oddly shaped, rising just a bit higher on one side in an unattractive manner. Adrian was always shocked at how a smile could look so much like a cross between a sneer and a pained grimace, but there it was. Even his teeth were uneven and ugly. There was simply no other way for Adrian to put it. This gangly, unappealing man was definitely one ugly specimen. It was obvious that most of his money went to the people who would indefinitely be forced to tolerate him. It certainly was not going toward improving his appearance. The worst part, as far as Adrian was concerned, was that the human was even uglier on the inside as he was on the outside. He was a disgusting, lecherous, greedy little man who preyed on the people of the city.

  “Adrian!” Chorió shouted in greeting, his thick Greek accent coming out in a garbled, throaty croak. As Adrian approached, the little man hopped off his throne and waddled toward the demon. His bow-legged gait reminded him of the imps back home.

  “God, you are one ugly fuck,” Adrian muttered.

  The little human’s smile faltered for a moment, but returned tenfold. “That’s why I like you, Adrian,” he wheezed. “You are literally the only man brave enough to say shit like that to me!”

  The demon nodded, grimacing against the man’s rancid breath. “I see you didn’t get my mint basket,” he countered sarcastically.

  Chorió laughed, turning to walk alongside Adrian. He placed his hand on the demon’s shoulder as they walked, which only made Adrian forcibly shrug it off. “Very funny, asshole. I’m gonna be honest, I’m pretty surprised you’re here.”

  “Because I slit your throat the last time we met?” Adrian asked slowly.

  “No,” the little human smiled.

  “Because I told you the time before that if I saw you again, I’d kill you?”

  “Try again.”

  “Because I slept with your sister?”

  Chorió rolled his eyes. “Word around the world is that you died, my stabby friend.”

  “Well, you know me. I rarely live up to the hype,” Adrian deadpanned. Chorió reached to move the right side of Adrian’s cloak aside, but the demon slapped the impish man’s hand away.

  “Why you hidin’ that side. Whatcha got in that man-purse there?”

  Adrian rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, regretting his decision to come here. It was the closest place where he knew someone. He entertained the notion of just killing the man and moving on to another city. He was fairly certain he still had contacts in the Vatican. “I need information,” he breathed.

  “Your payment?” Chorió prompted.

  The assassin had to force himself to keep his hand well away from his sword. “My payment is that I won’t sleep with your sister, slit your throat, or tell your mother how much of a piece of shit you are. Pick one. If your information is particularly good, you can pick two.”

  Chorió contemplated the options, then nodded his agreement. “Please, scary demon man, step into my office.” He led Adrian into the back of the acropolis, where the two could sit at a table laden with a veritable feast. As the demon sat down, his stomach growled, reminding him that he had not eaten anything in at least a day.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Jake sat at a desk in one of the many offices in Montgomery’s home. He was reading a history book, comparing the events the humans had recorded to a stack of notes he had found detailing what the Firstborn had done. It was surprising to the young dragon what was similar, and what was completely different. For example, in September of 1666, the Great Fire of London erupted. According to the human records, the fire started at a bakery and spread quickly due to a combination of the Lord Mayor’s indecisiveness, and the strong East winds. The Firstborn, however, documented that the fire was started by a single rogue dragon attacking the city. The dragon flew above the city, breathing fire down on the humans that had angered him. He loosed a quick blast at a point near the Tower of London, fanned the flames with his wings, and then kept going. His intentions were unclear to the Firstborn, but they thought it had something to do with the dragon’s home under the River Thames being broken into by humans of the city. The humans were so terrified by the sight of a dragon above their city that many thought it was a mass hallucination brought on by bad food. The appearance of the dragon was kept out of the human records, but the Firstborn recorded the event in all its accuracy.

  Then there was the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, which was recorded as much more horrific event for the humans that were present at the time. According to the Firstborn’s notes, Jake found that, while the Japanese were indeed responsible for making the attack, it was not the Japanese who initially planned it. There was a dragon inside the Japanese military who came up with the plan and mentioned it to a superior officer. That officer, a human, took the idea as his own and set one of the greatest surprise attacks in history in motion. The notes stated that America was going to have to get involved in World War II soon if it was to end. It seemed the Firstborn wanted to push the world into getting through the war at a faster rate, and without America’s involvement, it could have lasted far longer. What made it worse for the humans at the time was that another dragon was present in the water, keeping the boats sealed and trapping the sailors. The dragon was responsible for creating such a horrific experience that it forced America into the war.

  A sound at the door brought Jake out of h
is studies and he looked to see the cause. Montgomery stood in the doorway, a stern look on his face.

  “What is it?” Jake asked. Apprehension rose in his throat, but he did not know why.

  “There is a problem arising to the north,” the older dragon stated tersely. He turned to walk away, waving for Jake to follow him. The two went into the parlor where another man stood, awaiting Montgomery’s return. This man stood a full foot taller than Jake, and could have easily weighed almost three hundred pounds. His hair was cropped short, and his angular face was clean shaven.

  “Explain to my young friend here what you told me,” Montgomery said.

  The big man nodded and turned to Jake. “Demons have invaded New York. There is a sizable force entering through a portal in an abandoned building.”

  Jake felt his heart sink. The last time there was a movement of Hell’s troops like this on Earth, World War III erupted.

  “There’s more,” Montgomery muttered.

  “Angels are also coming into the city,” the big man reported. “Heaven and Hell are bringing their armies to Earth. I fear they mean to do battle, using our home as their battlefield again.”

  “What do we do?” Jake asked.

  “We stop them,” Montgomery stated flatly. “I will not see this planet fall into another war. We have been at peace for more than a century, and I refuse to let that end. How many soldiers do you estimate?”