by Kirk Zurosky
“Oh, now that was a really bad thing to say,” I called out, seeing Lovely bristle at being called a beast yet again. “That is a real sore spot for him, and it is going to be for you guys as well.”
“Get the beast, boys!” the padfoot leader yelled. Moving as one, the padfeet, save the two holding the girl, came at Lovely, so Garlic and I ran to help him. But we stopped short, seeing that an enraged Lovely needed no help as he caved in two skulls with one vicious double punch. Dodging a knife aimed for his heart, he snapped another padfoot’s arm with a sickening crack before driving it clear through the brainpan of the padfeet’s leader. “That is what I am going to do!” Lovely shouted, shattering another one’s rib cage and bursting a heart with a well-placed kick. “You shall babble your idle prattle no longer in this world!”
On he went, slamming two of them together so hard they crushed in their own skulls with the force. The two men holding the girl tried to escape with their prize, but Lovely liberated them of their lives by driving them each face first into the brick wall. The girl’s eyes rolled back in her head as she witnessed the mayhem of the wild animal that was Lovely, dropping unconscious to the ground with nary a word. Padfoot blood ran in rivulets down Lovely’s chest and arms, and he continued his rampage until only one padfoot was left, trembling and soiling his pants in his utter terror as Lovely approached slowly and deliberately and took hold of him with one massive hand.
“Let him go, Lovely,” I said, coming to his side and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Show him mercy.”
Lovely shook his head in anger and turned the padfoot’s face toward his own. “Would you have shown her mercy, you vile excuse for a man, would you have?” he spat.
“Yes,” the padfoot screamed. “Yes, I would have.”
“Before or after you raped her?”
The padfoot froze in the realization that his death was imminent. I turned away from him and Lovely and walked to gather up the young girl, hearing no answer from the padfoot but only a sharp cracking sound I knew all too well, which was Lovely snapping the man’s neck.
There was no law in the streets of London that day, or any other day in 1709, but Lovely had meted out justice for the people of this area. From the dank windows of the tenements a low cheer started and grew to a roar of thunderous voices of the oppressed that had been freed by a man from the depths who today was truly the Son of the Beast. “Come on,” I said to Garlic and Lovely. “Let us get this sweet young lady to safety and get you all cleaned up.” Lovely looked down at himself and seemed shocked at the amount of blood on his body. “None of it is yours, but rest assured, you would be very popular at a vampire dinner party right now,” I said with a grin. I thought for a moment. “Forget about a vampire dinner party,” I said. “More like a vampire orgy!”
I continued surveying the growing crowd. Lovely was drawing attention from the ladies of a nearby brothel, who were eyeing him in a rather savage and bloodthirsty manner. “I guess you would be popular at a mortal orgy too.”
“What’s an orgy?” Lovely asked.
I smiled at his innocence. “A hell of a lot more fun than a dinner party,” I replied. “But I guess we can’t have you wandering around London all bloody and half-naked. You are drawing way too much attention to us!”
“Hey, wild man,” a brothel beauty called out, showing him her breasts. “Come over here, and you can have it for free.”
Lovely looked to me and whispered. “Have what for free?” he asked innocently.
“Her,” I said. “And believe me there is always a price. It is never free! Now come on, a bath and clothes first, and then we go.”
“Go where?” he asked, following me out of the alley to another collective cheer. Behind us the corpses of the padfeet had already been stripped of all clothes, gold, and weapons, and dumped unceremoniously where they had been slain. There would be no dignity or remembrance for these dead men, and I wagered that even now, my girl Hades was levying suitable torture on them for their many and varied mortal transgressions.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Anywhere but here. I can’t stand the stench.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that I was taking him to meet his father. I was not sure how that was going to go, and after what I had just witnessed, well, I just didn’t know what would happen. But Lovely deserved the truth and the right to know his father. I saw him looking at me rather curiously, catching me deep in thought. “And, oh yeah, remind me not to piss you off anytime soon,” I said as Lovely met my smile with a wry grin of his own. My girls and Hedley Edrick would surely understand this little detour.
We found no clean water in London proper, so made our way out of town, passing along the way the Meats and Cheeses pub, which was now shuttered. I inquired as to the whereabouts of its owner, but got only shrugs and blank stares. Perhaps it was because the still bloodstained and loincloth-garbed Lovely was carrying an unconscious young girl over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, or maybe it was because Garlic had nearly snapped off the hand of a poor sop that reached out to pet her. It was of no matter to me, because I knew where we needed to go—Italy.
Finally out of London, I happily inhaled the clean air of the countryside. Lovely made good use of a pond, using great lily pads to scrub the nastiness from his skin. Garlic and I took down a large buck and traded it at a nearby farm for clothes for Lovely, and lunch. The custody of our young girl was also ceded to this family of farmers that promised to give her honorable work and shelter. She awoke when we had arrived, and quickly grasped the luck of her new situation. She wanted to express her gratitude quite personally to a clueless Lovely, but instead I sent him out to rustle up some provisions.
I tried to explain to Garlic where I wanted her to take us, but she had not been there before. I racked my brain, trying to figure out if the area near Immortal Divorce Court was closer than London to where I wanted to go in Italy, and wished I could borrow Hedley Edrick’s apple globe. So off we went the traditional mortal way, securing passage across the English Channel and journeying down through France, over the Alps, and into Italy. I took a deep breath as we crested a hill, and the beautiful Tuscan countryside lay before us.
“What is this place?” Lovely said, his eyes taking in the verdant hills covered with vineyards and stone villas on every hill—each one we passed looking ever bigger and more impressive.
“Welcome to Tuscany,” I said.
“What is Tuscany?” Lovely asked.
“A place where you can meet an old friend of mine,” I replied. “It is also known as an area of the world with good cheese and even better wine.”
“But why did you take me all the way here,” he asked as we approached a wrought iron gate with a large italic “I” on it. “I thought you wanted to go to Sa Dragonera before going to see Hedley. I would have been more than happy to go to Sa Dragonera with you.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied as I hailed the footman manning his post just inside the gate. “I have business with the master of this villa.”
The footman looked at me suspiciously, and Lovely even more so, brandishing a mighty mace in his hand. “And just who may I tell him is calling?”
“An old friend,” I said. “My name is Sirius Sinister.”
The footman’s eyes widened in fear, and he gripped his mace even tighter. “The master is not at home,” he said. “You must leave now.”
I saw his eyes assessing the threat that was Lovely, who had placed one hand on the gate and looked like he could rip it open with his bare hands—which of course he could. “Please go away,” the footman pleaded. “He is not to be disturbed.”
“I do think he will make an exception,” I said, and Garlic barked in agreement.
“No exceptions,” the footman said, standing steadfast. “Take your leave now!”
My ears caught the rustle of movement coming from a path leading down through the vines. But
Garlic was not concerned and bounded happily back and forth. And I soon saw why, as the hulking figure of Oliver von Cliffingham hove into view. Though coming from working in the vineyards, he was dressed in a suit of fine Italian silk, clearly what the privileged denizens of nearby Florence were wearing. I forgot just how large Oliver was as he towered over Lovely. He patted the sweat on his dark brow with a dainty white kerchief. “Whoa now,” he boomed. “Do my eyes deceive me? Has the illustrious Sirius Sinister and his faithful pup, Garlic, come to the great House of Indigo to pay me a visit?”
Garlic got even more excited when he spoke to her, and barked loudly, sending a pulse of sound into the gate, sending it backward off of its moorings and into the footman, who collapsed under its weighty iron. She bounded over the gates and the footman, then hopped up, pressing two paws on Oliver’s ankle. Lovely following behind her picked the gates off of the footman, who seemed none the worse for wear, and deposited them with a heavy clang on the ground.
I saw Oliver’s eyes watching Lovely like a hawk, clearly interested in how this young man was so very strong—troll strong. Oliver rubbed his chin and bent down to pet the insistent Garlic. “Well, well, my destructive little girl,” he said to her as he scratched behind her ears. “It has been quite a while since I have seen you and your colorful master. No doubt he has added a wife or two to his harem since I have seen him last.”
I laughed. “I was going to apologize about the gate,” I said, stepping forward to give my big friend a heartfelt hug. “But now I am not so sure after that last comment! And I will have you know that I’ve only married one lucky girl since you last saw me. But, give me time . . . give me time.” Oliver gave a knowing laugh and clapped me on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of me. As I finished talking, I noticed Oliver was again staring at Lovely, who was standing by awkwardly, waiting to be introduced. What was I going to say? Oliver did not even know he had a son. And Lovely, well, Lovely thought he was the product of a vile and horrific act.
“So, who is this strapping young lad in your company?” Oliver asked. I knew his marvelous brain was trying to figure out just who, or rather what, Lovely was. “Clearly by the way he moved those reinforced gates that a battering ram could not dislodge—although a vampire Maltese can—he has some troll in him, yes?”
“Well actually,” I started. “It’s funny you mention that, because Lovely here—”
Oliver cracked a smile and butted in. “You go by Lovely, son? Now that is a very fitting name. Clearly, you are the most handsome troll I have ever seen—other than myself of course—so maybe we are kin somewhere up the line. Where do you come from, boy?”
Lovely was still in shock at seeing Oliver. “You are a troll? But I thought all trolls were monsters,” he said, taking a step back from Oliver.
“Monsters? Ha!” Oliver said, leaning forward and punching Lovely playfully on the shoulder. “Maybe monstrously talented in engineering and mathematics, and yes, son, we are so very proficient at making wine. Come on, boy, where do you come from? Do you not know what you are? Who are your people?” Oliver looked to me to end this mystery for him. “Sirius, can you please provide a little assistance in filling in the blanks for both of us, yes? Where does this handsome young troll, who doesn’t even seem to know he is part troll, come from?”
“Lovely comes from the ocean, Oliver,” I said. “His mother is a mermaid.”
“A what?” Oliver’s mouth dropped open, and if I live to be a million, I will never forget the day I saw a troll cry. “Iyonna!” he cried. “I thought it was my heart playing cruel tricks on me after all of these years! But as sure as the sun rises over my vineyard, Lovely has Iyonna’s eyes, hair, and her amazing beauty!” He turned to me and exhaled slowly, shaking his head in utter disbelief. “Sirius, are you implying what I think you are implying about Lovely here?”
I opened my mouth to answer and give him the news that Lovely was, indeed, his son. But it was Lovely’s turn to be stunned. “How do you know my mother’s name?” he said incredulously, looking first to Oliver and then to me for answers.
“Because, my dear Lovely,” I said, “this man, Oliver von Cliffingham, master engineer, world-renowned vintner, sculptor, painter, and dear old friend of mine is no monster at all. He is your father!”
Lovely shook his head. “It cannot be! I am the product of sin. Of hate. My mother was raped by a monster. I am the child of a monster. A child of evil.”
“No, Lovely,” Oliver said calmly. “What Sirius says is true. Your mother and I were in love, and you were conceived out of love. Though from the day she left until this very day, I never knew she was with child. As you know, she is a princess among her people, uh, I mean your people, and she told me that her duty demanded she return to them.” He stroked his chin. “The only thing that would make sense to me is that she left me to return home before she knew she was pregnant with you.”
“She was no princess,” Lovely said. “She was but a commoner. A refuse collector.”
“Let me tell you,” Oliver said. “There is nothing common about your mother. She is funny, smart, and loving, but you know all of these things, right? Is she well?”
“No,” Lovely said. “I don’t really know.” He looked absolutely forlorn, and sadness radiated from his very soul. I shook my head, seeing a side of Lovely that I had never known existed. I could not even imagine growing up and not knowing my mother, and thinking my father was an abomination.
Lovely looked up at Oliver as if seeing him for the first time. “I was taken from her when I was but an infant. All I know is her name and what I have been told about her,” he said. “I have never even seen her face to face.”
“How could this happen?” Oliver sputtered, and looked to me as if I had the answers, which unfortunately I did. “What kind of people would do this to an innocent baby?”
Lovely shook his head unable to speak since all he had known of his existence and lineage had been turned completely upside down. “It is true that he does not know his mother,” I said. “The merfolk considered it a great insult to the sanctity of their people that she returned pregnant to them with a land dweller’s child. So to save her life, she said she was raped by a monster. The Queen of the merfolk, who is as sweet and kind a person as I have ever had the pleasure to know, saw this newborn child, which was half land dweller, and convinced the high council to spare his life. The Queen of the merfolk took Lovely in and raised him in her court so that they would not kill him. Iyonna was to be cast out and banished, but instead she has been imprisoned all these years.”
“It makes sense now,” Oliver said. “I bet she wasn’t sure if our child could survive on land, so she returned to the sea. It also explains why she was so scared when she left. She did not know how her people would react, yet she was afraid to stay and have our baby. What a choice!” He looked to Lovely. “I must thank this queen of yours for sparing your life and raising you to be such a kind and clearly honorable young man. I must also thank you, Sirius Sinister, for presenting me with the miracle that is my son! But I will not rest until Iyonna is set free. I have waited too long to be with her, and I have dreamed that she wanted to be with me. And now I know the truth. Sirius, since you said you know the Queen, and that she is good and kind, can you set up a parley with her?”
“Well,” I said. “That might be a little complicated right now. She might not be quite so fond of me at the moment. We did not part on the best of terms, you might say.”
“Are you telling me that you have wronged yet another woman?” Oliver demanded.
“No,” I said. “We actually care, or rather we did care, for each other deeply . . . but it is really, really complicated. We were together . . . but . . .”
Oliver rolled his eyes knowingly. “So the Queen is your wife.”
“Was my wife.”
“Divorced again?”
“Yes. Long story.”
“Of course,” Oliver said with a nod. “Baby?”
“Yes, very cute little girl. She can read minds.”
“Oh, good for you,” Oliver said. “And complicated how?”
“The Queen married this lunatic, Baron Orcinus—”
“Whose name did you just say?” Oliver interrupted, his voice loud and angry.
I looked at my old friend curiously. “Baron Orcinus,” I repeated. “A merman that walks around like he’s got a giant squid stuck up his ass. How do you know him?”
Oliver cleared his throat and instantly regained his composure. “Nope, never heard of him,” he said calmly. “I thought you said another name from the nearly forgotten past—please carry on.”
I knew that certainly wasn’t true, but this wasn’t the time to push the issue with him, so I moved on. “Anyway,” I continued. “The Queen married him to keep him from waging war on all land dwellers, and we just escaped from his clutches right before we came to see you. You see, the good baron was going to have your son drawn and quartered and his remnants scattered over the seven seas, courtesy of a few angry whales. They want Lovely dead because as he has grown to manhood, he looks less like them, and more like, uh, well, you.”
“Really,” Oliver said, punching one huge fist into another. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard—to be wanted dead for your lineage. I know it has happened again and again over time among the mortals, but come on now, we immortals live by a higher standard, or at least I thought we did. One of the tenets of Hedley Edrick’s school is practicing equality among all the immortal races. I mean, every one of us immortals knows that!”
“That is all very well and good,” I said. “But they want me dead because I sullied their Queen. I gave the merfolk an heir to the throne that is half land dweller—unthinkable to them really.”
“Well, that makes sense,” Oliver said with a smile. “I apparently was with the help, but you, my friend, went for the crown jewel of the empire!”