Gunship - The Series

by John Davis

  Vladris stood there. At first puzzled, though he soon began to realize the potential behind such a marriage. Maybe Sarah could help him forget, at least to a degree, his Amelia. Together they could rule without their own personal struggles, and do so in striking fashion.

  “My mind must be clear when facing Roman Raines, be it in battle or brotherhood. Once he is either with us, or in an eternal grave, then I will gladly become your king.” Vladris replied.

  “Good,” Sarah said, smiling as wide as her powder-white face would allow. “For these people already look to you as their king. And I look to you as my champion.” she added, leaning in to kiss the warrior who would help elevate their species back into one of total dominance.

  “I have not seen snowfall this thick in many years.” Tunak said, several of the warriors sitting inside the cabin, watching the frigid moisture fall to the ground.

  “It is a sign,” Four said. “Roman was born to end the life of Vladris!”

  “Perhaps,” Ranthra said loudly, doing his best to overcome their loud chants. “Or perhaps Roman has severely underestimated his enemy.”

  No chanting followed the statement, only silence as everyone stopped to hear his reasoning.

  “I mean no disrespect to Roman,” he said, both Tunak and Gore acknowledging his honesty. “But I may claim to be the only warrior among us to have faced both men in battle, albeit shortly. Vladris moves unlike any man, or monster, that I have ever faced. No legend, besides his very own, tells a tale of such ability to slay.” Ranthra said.

  “You have yet to see Roman's true ability to slay. For I was with him when he had but a single blade; yet five Hunters still fell. Five!” Tunak shouted.

  “I do not doubt your claim warrior,” Ranthra said, easing the tense of their exchange. “But I ask you this. If Roman is a Vampire, it means he did indeed fall in battle. Who then? Who was the warrior to slay him?” Ranthra asked.

  “Vladris.” Roman replied, shutting the door abruptly, his body-length coat of fur covered with snow.

  “Vladris?” Tunak asked, the entire group stunned with the information.

  “Indeed,” Roman calmly replied, his stare cutting into Ranthra. “A better question may be who introduced Vladris to his death?”

  “I do not know for sure, and think no man does. You would have to dig deep into recorded history to find the answer you seek.” Ranthra replied.

  “Or dig my blade deep into his own flesh, for Vladris knows the answer. Vladris saw the face of his slayer, much like he will see my own face.” Roman responded.

  “I think it not important at the moment either way,” Anthony said, following Roman inside and seeking a source of heat to defeat the chill of his bones. “This snow will hinder our travels greatly. We would be wise to remain here until the sky breaks for our long journey ahead.”

  “No,” Roman said, his voice unwaivering. “I leave as scheduled. Any man who wishes to remain behind is free to do so,” he added, the blaze red of his eyes brightening a bit. “But he who seeks to become legend will accompany me, for Vladris will fall by my sword. I swear of it.”

  And the group of warriors remained silent, each man contemplating his own destiny. Wondering what the outcome would be when the two legends finally collided. Anyone accompanying Roman would surely be slain if Roman fell, but if he was successful in bringing down the mighty Vladris? If indeed he possessed the skill to slay the demon of demons? Roman, as well as any warrior who stood with him, would forever be considered legend across Ronica. The dream of every true warrior.

  “You would be wise to hold your tongue to Roman.” Anthony said, walking quickly to catch up with Ranthra. A few warriors had left the cozy confines of the small lodge to seek good-burning wood for its fireplace.

  “And you would be wise to remain here, as I intend to,” Ranthra replied, turning to face their leader by committee. “I do not doubt the abilities of Roman in combat, as everyone suspects. But I do not doubt the abilities of Vladris either. The legends hold true, for I have seen it with my own eyes. To follow Roman into a battle with the demon of demons is to throw yourself on your own sword. All while saving yourself the journey of days by horseback. I'll not ride hard to a rematch of swords which saw Roman fall during the first battle.”

  “So your choice has already been made?” Anthony asked, bitter cold masking his voice with droplets of fog.

  “My mind was made the moment I saw Vladris first swing on the battlefield. The Gods spared my life on that very day, and I will not spit in their face by marching into the same scenario again.” Ranthra replied.

  Anthony shook his head for a moment, silently, before turning to begin a walk toward his small home in Marlock.

  “So now you think me a coward?” Ranthra asked.

  “No my friend,” Anthony replied, turning to face him once more. “I have seen your bravery in battle, time and time again. No, I begin to question the definition of courage at this moment, and when it becomes ignorance.”

  “Go my friend, for you have much to think about on this night.” Ranthra replied.

  “Are they treating you well?” Sarah asked, slowly entering the room in which Troy was being held.

  Their castle was complete, right down to a full-size dungeon. Yet Troy had been placed in a room only yards away from Sarah's very own. One normally reserved for important guests among their kind.

  “Yes.” Troy replied, wanting to hate Sarah for being a Vampire, while also remembering the respect he held for her human memory.

  “I have no intentions of harming you,” Sarah said, walking closer to him. “Leave us.” she added, turning to the two Hunters who had been assigned to Troy's door.

  “I have no intentions of harming Roman either.” she said.

  “Roman? He's here?” Troy asked with enthusiasm.

  “Not yet,” Sarah replied. “But we expect to see him soon enough. I intend to ask him to remain here,” she added. “And there is a place for you as well.”

  “Roman Raines will never join you! He despises your kind, as do I! Hunters killed my family in front of me, and you ask me to remain here to live among them?” Troy asked, his voice raising in the process.

  It was the first time Sarah had seen the boy's temper. She remembered holding him as Hunters closed in, remembered calming his fears as Adam Michaels and the Gunship crew protected them both against certain death.

  “I think with time Roman will come around.” Sarah said with a smile, brilliant white teeth cresting across such an angelic face.

  “I think you're full of shit!” Troy yelled, prompting the guards to come back into the room. “I think you will soon find out how mortal you truly are, at the tip of Roman's blade...you bitch!”

  As the two Hunters approached, Troy decided it time to show his hard-earned skill. Kicking swiftly toward the floor, his foot caught one of the Hunters above its knee, instantly breaking the femur bone and sending the soldier to the ground in pain.

  The second guard was met head on, Troy grabbing the monster's wrist. Of course, a young man barely eighteen years of age, he hadn't the ability to overpower the beast. Mythra. The art of stick-fighting, based around momentum-shifting. Troy had studied the art since losing his family, at first to occupy himself. However, he had quickly mastered the art and it displayed at this very moment.

  Letting loose the Vampire's wrist at the perfect moment, Troy used the monster's own momentum, allowing it to slam onto the ground. And as the guard began to get back to its feet, Troy's swift kicks broke the beast's forearm in several places.

  The same foot kicked the base of a nearby table, loosing a wooden leg which was quickly kicked into one of his free hands.

  “Time for me to take my leave you Vampiric bitch!” Troy yelled, pointing the table leg into her face.

  Shocked, Sarah simply walked back a bit. She had never seen Troy as anything other than a feeble child. Yet here he stood, two of her mighty warriors laying defenseless and her own safety in jepoardy. />
  Vladris slowly walked into the room, Troy's attention shifting to the large warrior.

  “Back my queen, I will handle this.”

  And step back Sarah did, knowing well that she had underestimated Troy this entire time. She also began to wonder if Vladris facing Roman was wise. Had she become too comfy in her new role? Had she underestimated Roman Raines as well?

  Troy's art of fighting allowed him to take advantage of larger opponents, and his mind knew that could prove disaster for Vladris, for he was a much larger warrior.

  “Well come on.” Troy said provokingly, continuing to hold the shattered wooden leg of a table in the Hunter's direction. He grew impatient, tired of waiting for Vladris to enter the fight with a mistake.

  With the speed of the very rays of a sun, Vladris thrust his arm forward, wrapping Troy's attacking hand and squeezing until the wooden leg fell to the room's floor. The demon's freehand then plunged in, clawed fingers gripping Troy by the throat and forcing him to the wall, his feet leaving ground in the process.

  “Vladris!” Sarah yelled, continuing to want no harm to come to the young man.

  “I have left very few lives to walk away,” Vladris said harshly, his large eyes brimming with both red and black pigment. “Know now that if it were not for a queen's command and a lover's wish, your lungs would plead for air as I ripped your head from the scrawny shoulders which held it.”

  And with that statement of caution, Vladris loosened his grip of tenacity, letting Troy stand on his own feet once more.

  “Are you alright my queen?” Vladris asked.

  “I am fine my champion.” Sarah replied.

  “What happened to you?” Troy demandingly asked as he began to breathe easier. “You used to hate the Hunters. I was there when your own father, the same father who fought against the Hunters, died in an explosion of flame!”

  “Yes, that was unfortunate,” Sarah replied. “But those were different times,” she added. “Different times indeed.”

  Sarah turned to Vladris for a moment while her two Hunters slowly gathered themselves from the floor. This was her species now, and it was her job to protect them at all costs.

  “Change of plans,” Sarah said firmly. “If Roman denies his place by our side, Troy will indeed die. In front of the warrior.”

  “Understood.” Vladris said with a grin.

  “And double the security detail on Troy's door.” she added.

  “At once.” Vladris said.

  The morning light of Marlock brought with it more snow, falling powdery-white onto the ground without reserve. Roman sat on a fine horse, a steed which had been outfitted with the toughest armor available, at least by such a secluded group.

  Tunak and Gore quickly joined him, as did the rest of his group, slowly galloping their own steeds to his piece of ground.

  “Draden, Pica. You are to remain here. Should I fall, these people need someone to continue the hunt.” Roman replied.

  “Roman,” Pica said, his large bow once again strapped to the upper of his back. “We want to fight.”

  “A fact I both know and respect,” Roman replied. “But you know the location of my ship. You will be able to care for my dog,” he added, glancing down at Scucca. “You will succeed me should I fall.” he added.

  “We understand,” Draden said, the brilliant-white light of snow refracting from his Dragon-scaled hide. “And we wish you luck warrior.”

  “I make my own luck.” Roman replied, thinking back to a time when his human flesh leaned on the spoken line heavily.

  “And what say you?” Tunak said loudly, his voice echoing toward the group of warriors led by Anthony. “Who is ready to accompany us to the fall of the mighty Vladris?”

  Four climbed to his mount quickly, the peppered-gray horse then trotting to Roman's group.

  “That is all? One warrior?” Tunak asked loudly.

  “Relax my brother, it takes but one to slay Vladris and end his legend of lies.” Roman said, nodding his respect to Four.

  “Four is as capable as any that I have. He will serve you well in battle, and I will personally see to the proper care of your hound and warriors.” Anthony replied.

  “Gratitude my friend,” Roman said, demonic eyes skimming the group a final time. “I will return in one week's time with the head of a legend so easily spoken,” he added. “If not, continue my legacy and bring their race to its knees.”

  “Either way, it will be done. You have my word.” Draden replied.

  And with that final exchange of words, Roman, Tunak, Gore and Four would turn to head away. Disappearing quickly into the thick of snowfall, well-supplied and well-intentioned.

  “Sir, we have just received word of Roman Raines departing Marlock for us.” a Hunter said, entering the lavish quarters of Vladris.

  “Good. Let him come.” Vladris replied.

  “Should I double the guard?” the Hunter asked.

  “You have made me aware, which is as good as doubling the guard. So no, it is not necessary.”

  “And the queen, sir? Should I attach a personal escort team with her?” the Hunter asked.

  “I am her personal escort team!” Vladris yelled, approaching the intimidated warrior of death. “Do you not think me capable of slaying Roman Raines?” Vladris asked.

  “Of course sir,” the warrior replied. “There are those among our ranks that whisper of his ability in combat, but I am not one such warrior.”

  “Whispering is the work of a coward. Any warrior who believes in something so strongly, would proudly announce his belief. To whisper is to be weak.” Vladris responded sharply.

  “Yes sir.” the Hunter said.

  “You may go. Inform the others I will be speaking shortly.” Vladris commanded.

  “Yes sir.” the Hunter warrior replied, turning to execute an order as the black leather of his boots struck loudly onto the stone-tiled floor

  “Forgive them. They do not see you as I do, for they have not seen your history of battle.” Sarah said, approaching her new love slowly.

  “My queen.” Vladris said, kneeling slightly in order to show his respect.

  “Many among our ranks have heard of your legend, but have not seen it with their own eyes.” Sarah said, wrapping her arms around the neck of the capable warrior.

  “Their eyes will learn of it soon enough.” Vladris said.

  “I will offer him a place at our side, and I am a woman of my word. Please know that if he accepts it, he is not to be harmed.” Sarah said.

  “I would expect no less from you my queen. But I have seen into this warrior's eyes. He will not submit to our will, and you should expect no less from him.” Vladris replied.

  “Either way, he will be given a choice. And be it an end to his reign of terror against our race, or an end to the breath in his lungs, this will soon be behind us my champion.” Sarah said.

  “Yes my queen.” Vladris replied.

  “I have no idea? He has gone mad!” one of the Hunters who stood in a watch house on the castle wall said, speaking to another.

  “Surely he knows of Roman's ability in battle? Surely he would rather be enjoying a fine meal this night?” the other guard remarked as they watched him. Their hero among heroes, sitting outside of the castle gates.

  A single chair of banded leather and wood beneath him, and a single sword of massive-scale strapped onto his back. Vladris sat there, patiently awaiting the arrival of Roman Raines.

  He understood, of course, that Roman's arrival was many hours, if not days away. And that the warrior traveled with others. Still, Vladris intended to do things in such a way that his legend would never again be questioned.

  “Sir, is there anything you need?” a Hunter asked, walking through the gates slowly, daring not disturb the hero any more than necessary.

  “Yes. Assemble our finest and bring them here, before me.” Vladris demanded.

  “Yes. At once.” the Hunter replied.

  Nearly an hour after Vla
dris had ordered it so, twenty of the finest soldiers the Vampires had to offer slowly made their way outside of the gates. Forming into a single group in front of their hero and awaiting his next command.

  “Most of you have learned of my abilities in battle through words. Legends told, passed down through generations,” Vladris said, standing to his feet slowly. “And I am aware that a few have even started to whisper of this man-demon. Roman Raines. Even going so far as to whisper of his ability to best me in combat.” he added, cutting his words to approach the faces of each warrior.

  “There is a reason that legend of my ability to end lives continues to be passed down. Reasoning that each of you will now know holds true with your very own eyes,” Vladris said in a sharp voice. “And while the rest of you whisper in fear, I await the warrior who comes. I long for a fight with the man which so many of you fear. Because, when this man who rides to our gates to end my legend arrives, he will soon beg for grace moments before the very blade strapped to my back slays him. And each of you will then know who to fear. Who to make legend of. Now go, cowards, and do not disturb me further!” Vladris yelled as if to dare any of them to speak.

  As the group of Vampiric warriors turned to once again enter the castle, Vladris returned to his chair. Turning his back to their castle and facing the rolling hills of Ronica before him as the rain began to fall down.

  “We make good time,” Tunak yelled loudly as their horses drudged through the thick of mud, finally having left the clutches of snow-filled mountains. “It is unusual to see no patrols this close to their castle.”

  “They have cleared a path for us. Their hero believes in the ability to slay me. An ability which he does not possess, but makes for an easier ride indeed.” Roman replied with confidence.

  “We will be on them by nightfall.” Four said.

  “Then we will stop to make camp. I wish to face him in the light of day.” Roman replied, bringing his horse to an abrupt halt.

  “I agree. If we are to slay the demon of demons, the daylight will give us an advantage.” Gore added.