However, while the families stood there as if their lives had already been lost, the corpses staked to either side of them were almost completely intact, their rags dancing in the wind and the eye sockets in their skulls aimed at the road like soul-swallowing caverns in the land of the dead. They cast a deep spell of silence.
The two knights closed the gap.
“Help!” someone shouted.
A flash of crimson cut off the cry.
The grass swayed in waves. It seemed to speak of shock and destiny.
Mr. Tumak’s aged father looked down at his chest. Blue steel ran right through him. Tumak’s wife looked down at hers as well. The bloodstained tip of a weapon stretched from it. The weapon that’d impaled the two people as they stood back to back had to be more than eight inches long, but it wasn’t the blade of a sword. It stretched more than three feet from the old man’s chest before coming to a guard that was twice as big around as a man’s fist. The hilt then sloped upward for another six feet before disappearing into a blue gauntlet, and it extended another three feet beyond the knight’s little finger.
Though the gigantic warrior was over six and a half feet tall, how could he wield a fifteen-foot lance with such skill? Both the weapon’s tip and its metallic hilt were etched with elaborate designs. Altogether, it must’ve weighed at least two hundred pounds, and probably more than four hundred.
The weapon bent supplely. The blue lance flexed upward, and the two victims were launched into the air like they were on springs and came right down on the stakes as if they’d been aimed. The old bones turned to powder and flew in all directions as the new victims were run through the heart.
“Although our princess instructed us to wait before meting out any additional punishments, we, the Four Knights of the Diane Rose, cannot allow this to pass. We were just beginning to get frustrated when you were good enough to try and escape. Although this is all in sport, you should provide a slight diversion.”
As if driven by the Blue Knight’s words, those gathered started to run. But the Red Knight was in front of them. A crimson wind gusted between the fleeing people. Still, they ran right by the sides of the Red Knight. Even though their heads had fallen off five or ten feet back, they didn’t stop sprinting. Another gust of even redder wind shot up from the ground to the sky, blocking the people and knights from the rest of the road.
“Ungrateful insects. This is the price you pay for your foolish actions.”
Before the knights bellowing with laughter, Jaray’s wife and Tumak’s son had fallen to the blood-soaked road. The pair hugged each other tightly.
“So, which of you shall I—” the Red Knight was saying when there was suddenly the shrill whir of engines approaching from the village at a frantic pace.
It sounded like more than a few.
“Looks like we have company,” the Blue Knight said, gleefully rolling his head from side to side.
Less than two seconds later, gasoline-powered motorcycles with high horsepower engines arrived at the scene of the cruel butchery.
While their engines remained running, a white-haired figure hopped off the back rack of the lead bike. He was an old man with a cane.
“Mayor Torsk is my name and . . .”
The reason his voice died as he was making his introduction was because he’d just seen the grotesque corpses that littered the road.
The riders of the roughly ten motorbikes were speechless as well.
“What the hell is this?!” said the rider of the bike that’d carried the mayor, spitting the words one by one.
Although he was more than fifteen feet away, the Blue Knight must’ve had unnaturally keen ears, because he then looked at the rider and muttered, “A woman?”
“So what if I am?!”
Stripping off an apparently homemade cloth helmet along with her goggles, the rider was then revealed to be a beautiful young woman with a slight pinkish flush. Her hair was cut shockingly short, and her eyes were ablaze with anger.
“What the hell . . . ,” she groaned once more, the words sounding crushed and lifeless as she turned the nose of her bike toward the Blue Knight.
Two steel pipes pointed forward from either side of the vehicle—four in total. If the pressurized gas in the tank to the rear were to launch the steel arrows within, they were certain to fly straight and true into the heart of the knight.
“Ah, more prey to amuse us? And this one looks to have a little fight in her,” the Blue Knight replied, his mere words freezing the atmosphere again.
“Knock it off, Elena,” the mayor of the village said, breaking the silence. Turning to the two butchers, he said, “I’ll make no complaint about those already dead. But could you at least be so kind as to show mercy on the last two?” he pleaded in a hoarse voice as the wind stroked his profile.
The grass was singing,
—
Stop, I say, stop,
For they will never spare you
—
“These people disobeyed an order from our princess,” said the Blue Knight. “Until the one who attempted to take her life is captured, no one whatsoever is to leave the village. Nor is anyone to enter. Anyone attempting to leave without her permission will be considered to be in league with the culprit and be promptly executed. And it is our duty to see to it her word is upheld.”
“The only reason they tried to leave was because you enjoy killing everyone just for the fun of it!” Elena shouted. “That hag of yours ordered more than just that. If the guilty party hasn’t been caught within ten days of her decree, ten villagers will be impaled on stakes. And every day after that, five more are to be drawn and quartered. It’s only natural for some people to try and get away!”
“Only natural?”
The two knights looked at each other and laughed.
“And we could say to you and your whole village that what we do is only natural. Take a good look around you at this verdant land and bountiful fields of grain—just who do you think made all of this possible? Lowly humans scratching away at the untamed wilderness with rusty hoes like stupid beasts? Do you recall what it was you said to the princess back then?”
Elena gnawed her lip. Agitation swept like a wave through the group behind her—and judging from the way they were all dressed alike, she was undoubtedly part of the same group. However, Elena quickly looked up at the knight and shouted, “That was a long time ago!”
“What?” the Blue Knight growled, his lance rattling slightly in his right hand.
“Now, hold on a minute,” the Red Knight interjected. “There’s no point arguing all that here and now. We’ve disposed of those who disregarded the rules. Take those other two back with you.”
Joy suffusing his countenance, the mayor stammered, “May I—may I really?”
“You may. Be quick about it.”
“Very well—Come along now, you two,” Torsk said, extending his arms toward the exhausted woman and child.
But neither of them said a word, and foam spilled from their lips. It wasn’t the world around them that filled their eyes, but rather death itself.
“Oh, this isn’t going to work. Come now, let’s be quick about this,” the mayor seemed to tell himself with new resolve as he advanced across the bloody road.
One more step and the two of them would be within reach—but at that instant, the wind snarled.
Even before the geysers of blood went up chasing the two heads that flew into the air, the grass was already singing,
—
Stop it, just stop it,
For they shall never spare you
—
Just as the Red Knight’s blade returned to its sheath in a gust of bloody wind, the Blue Knight’s lance danced out.
The fluid of life gushing so vainly from the stumps became a thousand droplets in the wind, forming a crimson curtain that slapped against the people’s faces.
From behind it, the Red Knight called out, “The rules are the rules, and we make no except
ions. And now, to deal with the little monkey bitch who called our princess a hag.”
Although Elena tried to aim her gas-powered launcher purely out of reflex, the dark red stain across her field of view wouldn’t allow her to do so. She had to wonder which would come for her instead: the steely blade or the bloody lance? The face of the girl was stained with the hues of blood and death.
Just then, the vermilion curtain was torn in two, as if to announce the beginning of a new tale.
Even the deadly knights and their mounts averted their gaze and backed away from the wind that gusted down the road.
But the bizarre phenomenon ended quickly.
And everyone who looked up then saw it—an inky black horse and rider advancing eerily through the corpses and the stakes. For some reason, it would’ve seemed a terribly appropriate image in anyone’s eyes.
The teeth of skulls still impaled on the stakes chattered in the wind. The green grass bowed, and the sun—ever generous with its light—ducked behind a cloud at that very moment.
Everything else was forgotten as they gazed intently at the new arrival.
About ten feet from the Red Knight the rider came to a halt. The face below the traveler’s hat was not of this world. It was unearthly in its beauty.
Even the wind died out, as if it, too, was awestruck.
“Clear the way,” said the traveler.
“And just who are you?” asked the Red Knight. “This is our mistress’s domain. No one may enter. Leave at once.”
However, didn’t the knights currently have orders to kill any intruders on the spot? What did these merciless killers sense in the young man before them?
“The village of Sacri lies ahead, doesn’t it? I have business there,” the young man said, not seeming the least bit hesitant. His long hair fluttered in the breeze.
“Oh, so you want to die, do you?” the Blue Knight said to him. “What’s the matter, Red Knight?” he then asked his comrade. “Have this man’s good looks got the better of you? If that’s the case, I’ll handle this.”
Needless to say, he was joking. The Blue Knight knew better than anyone the skill of his crimson compatriot, as well as his cruelty and his valor.
And that was why it was only natural that he was dumbstruck when the Red Knight told him, “You’re welcome to try.”
“What?” the Blue Knight asked in return, but that was only after the space of two breaths had passed.
“I leave him to you. Give it a try.”
The reply had certainly come from the Red Knight. And the crimson rider had even fallen back to the edge of the road.
The mayor, Elena, and the bikers all just stared, dumbstruck. One of the Four Knights of the Diane Rose was backing down—was this some sort of waking nightmare?
As if nothing at all had happened, the young man gave a kick to his mount’s flanks. He advanced without a glance at the headless corpses still locked in an embrace or the mayor that stood beside them—but the Blue Knight was waiting up ahead.
—
II
—
As they watched the distance dwindle between the two figures, the mayor and the others wore strangely calm expressions. Finally, normalcy had returned to the world. Finally, the Blue Knight would fight. That was what they honestly believed. That’s how unnatural it had been for the Red Knight to let the young man in black pass.
The Blue Knight adjusted his grip on his lance.
There was fifteen feet between them.
The green grass twisted plaintively, singing a song.
—
Halt, I say, halt,
Or one of you shall die!
—
Ten feet.
The Blue Knight’s horse whinnied loudly, as if trying to repress its urge to bolt.
Dark clouds crowded the sky.
Five feet—now.
The Red Knight suddenly looked over his shoulder—out at the grassy plains. “Hold,” he cried. “His honor the Black Knight is on the way.”
Another figure on horseback was galloping toward them from the farthest reaches of the emerald expanse. As his name implied, the knight on the horse’s back was encased in black armor. Even if the Red Knight hadn’t referred to him as “his honor,” the sight of him streaking through the sea of grass with thundering hoof beats and bounding onto the road certainly had all the impact of an iron spike of immeasurable weight.
The young man halted his horse, too.
Tilting his onyx helm to survey the carnage, the knight spat, “How callous. Are you idiots responsible for this?” His voice was also as heavy as iron.
“I resent that remark, sir,” the Blue Knight declared.
“Silence!” the Black Knight roared like the crashing of the distant sea, and with that single word the other two stilled. “I have no objection to you killing those who flee,” he went on to say. “Such is in keeping with the wishes of our princess. But you’ve gone and taken the lives of even the youngest of children. We are not soulless demons! Mr. Mayor, our princess is sure to make reparations for the children at a later date. See to it that no one else discards their life in such a manner again.”
The old man bowed his head without saying a word.
Then the sound of hoof beats reached the ears of all present. Incredibly enough, the young man in black had continued riding on. Bold, perhaps even impudent, the move was so far from expected norms that the Blue Knight and Red Knight could only watch mutely as he went.
“Wait,” the Black Knight called out.
The traveler in black kept going.
Perhaps expecting as much, the knight in the jet-black armor didn’t have a mote of wrath in his voice as he said, “I would have your name.”
“D.”
At that point, a single ray of sunlight poked through the clouds to illuminate the young man’s face. His fairly bloodless complexion was given a rosy hue—that was how beautiful he seemed.
Gasps arose from those on the road, and a murmur rumbled through them like the tide. Elena was the first to make a sound, with her compatriots following suit after.
“I’ll remember that name,” the Black Knight called out.
The young man who’d given his name as D rode off calmly, as if he hadn’t been witness to this tragedy in broad daylight.
At some point, the knights had disappeared, too.
“We’ll bring the bodies back,” said Torsk. “Give me a hand with them.”
Seemingly oblivious to the way the other bikers scrambled forward at the mayor’s request, Elena alone kept a dumbfounded gaze turned toward town—the direction the gorgeous young man had gone. “You see that?” she asked.
Another biker who was about to walk by her stopped in his tracks and replied, “See what?”
“They didn’t make a move against that guy,” Elena said as if she were still dreaming. Perhaps she was. “Three of the Diane Rose knights—and they were practically cowering, and couldn’t even draw on him. He might be the guy to do it. He could save us all,” the girl muttered, her tightly clenched fist making her resolve abundantly clear.
Beside her, the grass whispered,
—
What’s that you say?
—
The young man’s visit couldn’t help but cause a great sensation in the tiny village. People stopped in their tracks and stared as D rode down the street. Dazed, they continued to stare off in the same direction for a long time after he’d gone. Every single person with a scarf around their neck pressed down on it with terrible embarrassment, and then hung their head.
“I wonder which inn he’ll be staying at?” women muttered, irrespective of age.
“Did you see that sword, and the look in his eye? There’s nothing ordinary about him,” the men said to each other.
Contrary to the women’s expectations, D didn’t end up registering at any of the village inns. Halting in front of a house on the outskirts of town, he got off of his horse and rapped on the door with a knocker fashio
ned from animal bones. The sign next to the door had the words Mama Kipsch—Witch Doctor burnt into it.
After a moment, an elderly woman’s voice from behind the door asked, “Who is it?”
“A traveler,” D replied. “Are you Mama Kipsch?”
“Just ask anyone.”
“I have a message from your grandson.”
In the middle of her heavily wrinkled face, her eyes opened as wide as they’d go. Then she said, “That good-for-nothing brat—I don’t see how he could do this. Where is he at, anyway?”
“He passed away.”
“What?!” the old woman exclaimed, her body growing stiff as a mannequin. Her blue eyes said that the young man before her was some beautiful grim reaper. “Now wait just one second,” she stammered. “What do you mean by that? Tell me more.”
“He was hung up on the riverbank about six miles south of your village. He told me his name as well as your own and where you lived, then asked me to tell you, ‘Take care,’ before he passed away. And now I’ve done that.”
“Yup,” the old woman said with a nod. By the time she’d returned to her senses, the man in the black coat was back on his horse.
“Wait just one minute. Hey!” she wheezed as she raced out the front door and grabbed hold of one of his saddlebags. “Aren’t you the inhospitable one. My, but you are a looker, though.” Feeling the pulse in her right hand, she added, “Look, you’ve gone and got me up over a hundred fifty beats per minute. I’ve gone through two artificial hearts already, you know. Putting in a third would probably be the death of me. If I die, it’ll all be your fault,” she told the traveler. “I’ll haunt you till the end of your days!”
“I’m used to it.”
At D’s reply, Mama Kipsch looked up at him as if just coming back to reality. It seemed that while she’d been gazing at him intently, she’d even forgotten how short of breath she was. Nodding, she said, “Is that a fact? I suppose you would be, at that. You’ve got an unbelievable aura. I didn’t think I should’ve been that winded after running just a tad. But now I see you scare the hell out of me. How many people have you killed with that sword, anyway?”
“If you have no business with me, I’ll be going.”
The Rose Princess Page 2