“No!” Vincent interrupted. Cygnus surprised by his answer. “I maybe in a hurry to find my sisters, but I will not sleep with you.”
She felt his heartbeat return to normal. “I see.” She muttered. “Your heart belongs to another. Lucky woman. I was just teasing anyway. What I really need from you requires considerably more work than just a night in the sack. My daughter left a moon cycle ago to hunt down a myth. A creature known only as a behemoth.”
“If it’s nothing more than a myth then why is she hunting it?” he asked.
“Because something has been terrorizing the farmlands. It comes in the dead of night under a blanket of mist. It’s as tall as any mountain, has a screech so powerful that glass itself shatters. Then there are the footprints that it leaves behind. They are bigger than any crater you have ever seen. If that thing were to show up in the capital city of Illya, it would have the force to crush it in one stomp.”
“So you want me to kill it?” he asked.
“No. I want you to bring my daughter home, but she is stubborn, just like her father was. She’ll most likely not return until that thing is dead. Unlike me, she actually cares for the people of Illya. Emotions truly are a burden upon the soul.
“Once she has returned home safe and sound, I will tell you all about your sisters and so much more.”
“Seems like I have little choice. Where is she?”
“The farmlands are to the east. She’s been recruiting mercenaries and those wishing to fight this thing. Bring her home kicking and screaming if you have to. I can truly careless just so long as she is safe.”
“That I can do.”
Chapter 13
Empress Cygnus daughter is roughly around the same age as Vincent. Her name Fey. Named after the elven goddess of the moon. She is apparently very hard to miss. She looks just like her mother only instead of blue eyes her eyes are violet.
The farmlands of Illya was rather unusually quite. It was the peak of harvest season but there was no one working the fields. It was as if they all just vanished or perhaps they are hiding. Word of the behemoth must’ve spread far and wide. Vincent has passed many armed mercenary groups. Some heading further east. And some heading back west. None of them injured but they all had the look of fear in their eyes. Vincent would soon find out why that was.
He was forced to stop as he came across a massive canyon. He would soon find out that this canyon wasn’t made naturally. In fact, it wasn’t a canyon at all. It was a massive footprint. Were someone to try and fill it with fresh water, that country would have enough water to last a hundred years. Trying to navigate around something so big took Vincent three hours.
He began to follow the footprints south. With any luck, Fey had the same idea he did. Any normal man would be scared beyond belief seeing something like that. Vincent was no scared. In fact, he was grinning from ear to ear like some sort of escaped lunatic from an asylum. I doubt he realized he was doing it. His heart was racing, his adrenaline was surging just from the sheer thought of seeing the monster that left this behind. Did Vincent want to fight it? No. He wanted to kill it. He just didn’t know it.
It was around dusk that the footprints stop. Logic would dictate that the creature who created the prints would be nearby. Seeing as it supposedly taller than any mountain so it shouldn’t be too hard to find. That was the problem in itself. The footprints stopped at an open grassy field. There was nothing for miles in any direction. So where is the creature? There in lies the million dollar question.
Vincent stopped for the night in a burrow beneath a tree. It was just big enough to house him and spacious enough for him to lay down without his legs sticking out.
He had the dream again that night. For some reason, he wasn’t bothered by it this time. He was screaming in his own head to stop, nor did any tears streak down his face. There was something different about it, however. The dream always ended the same with him sitting in a pool of blood. Then Rodrick would have him placed in chains and dragged away. Vincent noticed something this time that he never noticed before. There was someone there with Rodrick and his men. A woman. She was carrying a staff.
Before Vincent could ponder it any further he was awoken by a shrieking roar that made his ear drums ring as if someone fired a gun next to his ear. A thick fog had blanketed the area. It was hard just trying to see five feet in front of you. However, it was impossible to miss the towering, hulking, moon covering monster in front of him.
The ground shook beneath his feet with each step it took. Vincent could hardly make it out. All he saw was the bright glow yellow of its eyes that broke through the fog.
What was Vincent thinking? He took off like a bullet out of a gun towards the behemoth. He had his sword in his hand, he frothing at the mouth like some rabid dog, and one word kept repeating over and over in his head. “Kill…kill…kill.” The voice spoke to him as if it was a bird sitting on his shoulder, whispering in his ear to kill this thing.
Within the fog, the sound of galloping horses and the sound of arrows whistling through the air could be heard. A voice broke out of all the chaos giving orders. “Surround the beast! I want to see arrows blanket the sky!”
Sadly, no matter how many swords or spears or arrows you used, the behemoth’s skin was impenetrable. Steel arrows shattered like glass upon its leathery skin. Spears broke at the shaft, and swords shattered at the hilt. Nothing worked.
The behemoth roared again. Not a high pitched shriek as before, but it was louder. The vibration it emitted was loud enough to break through the fog. A fully armored battalion force riding armored horsed had surrounded the beast. No one moved even when the horn calling for the retreat was sound. How could they? All of them could see their own death.
It raised one of its massive claw-like hands successfully blocking the moon.
“Fall back! Fall back!”
It was too late to run now. It drove its claw hard into the ground, sending a shockwave that carried bodies, horses, trees, and gigantic chunks of earth with it in all directions. Even Vincent found himself getting swept into the storm of blood and dust.
“How long have I been asleep?” Vincent said to himself as he slowly opened his eyes. Before him was nothing but darkness along with the feeling of something heavy on his back and the smell of decay in his lungs. He pushed whatever it was off of him only to discover that he was buried under a pile of bodies. He clawed his way out until he finally broke free and took a gasp of somewhat fresh air. The smell of decay was very pungent in the air.
Old and new bodies were stacked on top of one another without so much as being anointed with holy oil as a finally right of the dead. Vincent had to have been standing on at least a thousand bodies. One of the footprints were being used as a mass grave. He could barely see the light from above.
It took him a good part of the morning to climb out of that pit. He was covered in blood, none of it his, dust, dirt, and a number of other things that he would rather not think about. The creature was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it vanished while Vincent was out cold. Then again, perhaps not. There were new footprints from where it was last night, but it just stopped. Either this thing can fly or it can become one with the earth. Vincent didn’t give it a second thought. He had to find Fey.
Finding Fey was made much simpler after last night. Vincent assumed that it was her last night giving orders to the troops. There were horse footprints all over the battlefield where the creature was. Some led away from the field in the direction Illya or the coast. While others led Vincent into the trees.
He came across a small encampment of mercenaries and soldiers. Most were badly injured. While others lay on the floor not breathing having succumbed to their wounds. Their brothers in arms weeping over their bodies. The moral at the camp was at an all time low and the air was silence. Well, almost silence.
“That thing cannot be killed!” a man yelled. “And you knew that! You think throwing more men at the problem will solve this! I lost my brother last nig
ht! He had a wife and son! What am I suppose to tell them when I come home without him? I can’t even find his body!”
One of the guards, dressed similarly to the guards outside the White Spire, outside presumably the war tent, pushed the rough looking man to the floor. Not much work seeing as how both his legs were bandaged.
“You will not speak to the Princess that way, you scum!”
Princess Fey wore gold and silver armor. She even had a crown on her head. Even her mother didn’t wear a crown. Then again, Cygnus didn’t wear anything.
“I paid you and your men to do a job,” she reminded him. “You’re a mercenary band! You knew the risk when I hired you.”
The man slowly got to his feet——only to be pushed back into the mud by Fey herself.
“Don’t come crying to me every time one of your men dies! You're a mercenary. You're the very definition of expendable. So get up and gather your men! We are moving to a new location before nightfall.”
The man once again got to his feet. “No.” He said.
Fey looked at him with scorn. “What did you just say?”
“I said no! I will not sacrifice any more of my men to you just before you feel like you need to prove something. That thing cannot be killed!”
Fey pushed him once again to the floor. She was breathing heavily and for some reason crying. “Kill him.” She ordered her guard.
The guard came forward just as Fey turned her back. One moment later she heard the sound of clatter metal hit the floor. Fey turned back around to see her guard on the floor dead with a hole in his chest. Vincent Valentine was standing in front of her.
“Who are you?!” she said as she staggered backward.
Vincent ignored her for a moment and helped the man to his feet. “Are you okay?” he asked.
The man chuckled. “Hardly…I lost thirty of my men last night.” He turned his gaze to Fey. “All because of you and your damn ego!” he yelled.
“A soldier must learn when he has lost. You ex-military?”
“Yeah. I served in Reign for twenty years before leaving. What about you?”
“Something like that. Sorta been fighting all my life. I heard what you said. Sorry about your brother. You should have never been put in that kinda situation. Ordinary men can’t kill that thing.”
“You can say that again. All for a thousand gold pieces. I don’t know what to tell his wife or my nephew.”
“The truth,” Vincent said. “Tell him that he died with honor in battle. That all one can hope for in this world.”
“True. Probably would help more if I had his body. By the way, you do realize we are surrounded, right?”
While they were talking, Fey was ordering her men to surround them.
“Yeah I’m aware. One second.”
Vincent lunged at them. With each swing, he killed one of them. These men were not trained at all. They carried a sword but didn’t know how to use it. What a joke, Vincent thought. “Untrained and unskilled.” He muttered. “Your guards are pathetic. I suppose that is why they are all fine while the real soldiers are injured and or dead. Pathetic.” Vincent spits.
Vincent took a step forward towards Fey. She fell to the floor, screamed, and took out her sword. Her arms were shaking, her knees were quaking, and there was a faint smell of urine in the air that was there before. Looking down, Vincent saw a wet spot trailing from Fey’s thighs. He grabbed the sword by the blade and ripped it from her hands. “If you don’t know how to use it, then you shouldn’t be wielding it.”
He grabbed some rope nearby and bound her hands and feet then proceeded to throw her over his shoulders. “Let me go! Let me go!” she yelled and she punched at his back.
“What are you going to do with her?”
“Her mother asked me to come collect her. Said to drag her back kicking and screaming if you have to. I suppose this nullifies you contract, huh?”
“Truth be told I probably still would’ve let you take her even if you told me you were a slaver. That how out of it I am right now.” The turned to look at his men beaten down into the dirt. “I’ve been with some of these men for over twenty years now. My little brother so desperately wanted to follow in my footsteps. I should have said no all those years ago. I should have never taught him how to use a sword. As much as I blame her for this, the real blame lies with me.”
Vincent felt for the man. He took off the satchel of gold he had around himself and gave it to the man. “Here.” He said shoving it into the man’s chest. “Their’s a mass grave about two miles from here inside one of those craters. The center one to be exact. Perhaps you’ll find your brother’s body there.”
Vincent began to walk away with Fey in hand. He opened the heavy satchel and couldn’t believe how much gold was inside. He ran to catch up to Vincent. “Hey!” he yelled out. Vincent turned around and looked at him. “What’s you name?”
“Vincent. My name is Vincent.”
“Mine is Derek. Maybe we’ll see each other again.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Vincent waved him off and began his long walk back to Illya.
Derek looked back at all the gold. “Vincent, huh? Funny. He has the same name as my nephew.”
Chapter 14
“Let me go! Let me go!” Fey kept yelling and hitting Vincent’s back.
“Shut up!” he yelled. “If I wasn’t going to put you down an hour ago, what makes you think I’m going to put you down now. Just shut up until we get to Illya.”
“Do you have any idea who I am? I am Princess Fey. Future Empress of Illya and I demand you unhand me at once!”
“Sorry but I can’t do that. You see, princess, I’ve been ordered to bring you back by no other than the current Empress of Illya. So forgive me, but you have authority over me.”
“My…” Fey went pale and began to squirm even harder than before. “Put me down! Put me down this instant.”
Vincent stopped for a moment. He reached into his jacket and held a dagger in between Fey’s thighs. She stopped the moment she felt something sharp pressing against her crotch.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked.
“Am I…what are you asking me?!” Fey screamed.
“I asked are if you were a virgin.” Vincent pressed it in just a little. “Answer me.” He said coldly.
With tears rolling down her face, Fey answered. “Yes…yes…”
“So I doubt the first thing you wanna feel inside you is an eight-inch dagger, right?”
Fey didn’t answer. Vincent pushed pressed it against her crotch just a little bit more. “Right?” he repeated.
“Yes…yes…please stop…”
“Your mother said I had to bring you back but she never said I had to bring you back in one piece.” An obviously lie. One Vincent has no plan on acting on. He just got sick and tired of her constant squirming. He put the dagger back in his jacket. “Good. Now shut up.”
They walked in complete silence for another hour until finally, Fey said something. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Is it gold? Because I can double it.”
“I have no interest in gold. Your mother has information I need.”
“Well, maybe I know it.”
“Maybe you do and maybe you don’t. The fact is you will say anything for me to let you go and I don’t any more time to waste having to hunt you down all over again. So I’m taking you back to Illya bound. Whether or not that means I’ll also gag you is entirely up to you.”
Fey let out a long sigh. “Seems like my mother found the perfect lap dog to do her dirty work. Do you have any idea the type of woman she is? She doesn’t even care about Illya and its people. All she does it drink tea in the nude and stares at the capital from the balcony. She didn’t even care that the people we rely on for food were being killed by this monster.”
“So you thought you would take matters into your own hands. And instead of coming up with a decent strategy all you did was send wave after wave of men to attack the beast. Hopin
g that one of them would manage to take it down. It was a very pathetic strategy. Especially if you are trying to seize power from your mother.”
Fey became flustered. “What…what are you talking about?”
“You know as well as I do that your mother is nothing more than a figurehead. She hasn’t ‘ruled’ Illya in the past seventy years. That’s what the council is for. They are the ones who make the laws, decide what the army does, and makes sure everyone is happy. Sure, your mother has a seat on the council but I doubt she ever attends the meeting. Still, the council won’t vacate her seat because she’s become a thing of legend to elven people. ‘Empress Cygnus, the light at the top of the spire, the immortal Empress.’ Despite her inaction, she gives hope to her people. Hope can be just as powerful as any weapon.”
“Shut up!” Fey yelled. “You don’t know what you are talking about?”
“Don’t I? With the death of the behemoth in your pocket, you can easily and unanimously obtain your mother’s seat on the council. The only problem is that you don’t have any military skills. You aren’t a leader. A leader would know when to quit. When all hope is lost. But you were determined and used the one thing you have. Money. Thinking to yourself if I just have enough men to attack that beast then maybe it could come down. But you couldn’t even as so much scratch the thing. How pathetic. It’s weaklings like you that make me sick.”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Fey yelled repeatedly as she began to squirm around again. Vincent decided to drop her since she wanted to be put down so badly.
Fey landed had on her back. Vincent stepped on her chest and loomed over her. “You're weak.” He said.
“Shut up!”
Vincent spat on her. “Admit you are weak. Admit that you had no idea what you were doing.”
“How dare!”
He spat on her again. “Admit that all those deaths are on your hands because of your ego.”
“Do you know who I am?!”
Vincent spat on her once more. “Yeah I do. And I don’t care who you are, what your status is, or who your mother is. Right now it’s just you and me and I have a container of water tied to my belt. So believe you me I will continue to spit on you until you tell me what I want to hear and need be I will piss on you.”
The Return of Constantine (The Blackest Knight Series, Book 2) Page 8