“Duke of Xenon—how could you . . .”
“Wait. This is all a terrible mistake.”
While the Nobleman made a frantic apology, the gigantic Mehmet pulled the spear out of himself and hurled it back at his colleague in the exoskeleton. It pierced the Duke of Xenon through the abdomen and poked out through his back.
“Of all the stupidity—have you forgotten what we’re trying to do here?” he bellowed at his colleague, but Grand Duke Mehmet kept closing on him. The machine man’s mouth opened.
Just then, the giant exoskeleton began to spin like a top. For a second it kicked up dust—and then the massive form sank into the black earth.
“Taking to your heels, eh? Yes, I suppose we can’t very well go about killing our own, can we?”
With nothing left to direct his rage at, the gigantic figure looked all around. The wagon was dwindling in the distance, and there was no sign of D. Presently Grand Duke Mehmet, too, vanished.
The remaining darkness was deep. Having been ordered by the mayor not to go outside, the villagers wouldn’t break that prohibition until dawn, but that was a long way off, and the night was cruel and cold and choked with the reverberations of the deadly conflict.
LOVE AND HATE FROM DAUGHTER DEAREST
CHAPTER 3
—
I
—
Burrowing out of the earth like an anthropomorphic drill, the Duke of Xenon reappeared some thirty minutes later at the bottom of a towering canyon about six miles north of the village—on the bank of a river, with white water splashing against the rocks right before his eyes. On throwing a switch on the interior, the super-metal-alloy armor that could bore through the hardest rock turned into a thin sheet like silver leaf, folding, curling, and doubling up until it had transformed into an ordinary bodysuit that covered the Duke of Xenon.
Though Nobles normally hated water, this man had a most atypical love of it. To be more precise, he possessed a unique physiology. Noblewomen had a distinct weakness for men who could calmly go over to water and stick their hands in. Going down to the water’s edge, he plunged his right hand into the flow. The spray struck his palm, and his immortal flesh felt the same unholy chill as if he’d looked at a certain forbidden shape. Though the spray was white, he could only see its color because of his Noble’s eyes, which saw as well at night as humans’ eyes did at midday. Black clouds sealed off the sky as if by design, keeping any speck of light from reaching the ravine.
“Baron Balladrack’s parties, boating on the river with Lord Valhalla—each and every night was filled with the moon and stars.”
His voice vanished into the black surface of the water, and Roland, the Duke of Xenon, wore a terribly sentimental expression in the pitch black darkness.
“It comes as little surprise I’m a bit weary. I never suspected a young man like D existed in the world. I don’t know what’s become of his left hand, but if it should be reattached, I don’t think I could meet him head on . . .”
He raised his right hand. A semitransparent spear formed where there had been nothing, and by the time it shot toward the opposite shore, it had taken on substance.
“Oh?” a man exclaimed with a bit of astonishment, but it was the Duke of Xenon who was in for the real surprise. The long spear he’d launched with all his might at the figure on the opposite bank of the sixty-foot-wide river had been easily caught in the person’s right hand.
To be honest, the Duke of Xenon hadn’t been able to make out the face of the person he was dealing with. There was no Noble save himself who’d be lurking by the water’s edge at this hour, so it had to be a human, and at this time of night it could only be one of D’s compatriots, so he’d launched an attack. Now, however, he could discern a regal visage.
“Baron Schuma.”
“You can have this back,” the Nobleman shouted, throwing the spear.
Catching the weapon aimed at his heart in one hand, the Duke of Xenon was stunned. Such speed and precision—the baron had clearly hurled it back with every intention of killing him.
“I’ll be right over.”
Grinning wryly at the baron’s carefree cry, the Duke of Xenon turned the long spear back into suspended molecules.
The baron effortlessly crossed the swift torrent, which could have drowned even aquatic monstrosities. As proof that his feet indeed touched the water, every step he took sent white spray flying.
“Now this truly is something, Baron,” the Duke of Xenon said, realizing how awkward his greeting sounded. But it was his own fault for attacking without even looking, so there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“Are you okay?” the baron asked. He beamed a smile as he said it, but from the way he’d sent the spear back, he couldn’t have cared less about the duke’s well-being.
“Indeed. I’m one short step from running D and the others to ground,” he replied, unable to conceal his anger. He hadn’t liked the way the baron had asked if he was okay.
“That’s splendid,” the baron said, still smiling. “However, it’s that last step you have to worry about.”
“Why are you here?” the Duke of Xenon inquired, changing the subject. Most likely he wouldn’t get along with this Nobleman, but this was their first meeting. The general had merely shown each of them holographic images of the other invited guests.
“Too bad about Dr. Gretchen, isn’t it?” the baron said, and in his heart of hearts, the Duke of Xenon was taken aback. Grand Duke Mehmet himself probably didn’t even know about that yet. So how did he—
“It appears that the general sees everything,” the baron said. He didn’t seem very impressed, though—in fact, he sounded disgusted by it. There was something in this Nobleman, with his air of fractured refinement, that made him scorn the sweeping scale of the great General Gaskell.
“What have you come here for?” the Duke of Xenon inquired, trying to rein in his irritation.
“Just out for a stroll,” the baron answered, breaking into a grin. “Or so I’d like to tell you, but the truth is, there’s a spot in this area that interests me.”
“Oh?” the Duke of Xenon replied. He wished to part company with this man so badly it was killing him.
“There’s a waterfall up ahead. You could probably already tell from the sound of the water splashing. Behind the cataract, the lowly humans used to keep a lair. The odious place was cleaned out long ago, melted away to nothing, and the person in charge of all that was my very own uncle.”
“Fascinating.”
“So this evening, with the general’s permission, I set out to inspect the historic ruins my family had the honor of destroying. Would you care to join me?”
“I’m sorry, but I must decline.”
“That’s most regrettable. Well then, I shall see you again soon.”
And saying this, the baron headed off along the shore toward the roar of the falls, only to turn again after five or six steps and say, “Kindly hurry back to the castle. My instincts are telling me D is close by.”
And with that he walked off.
“What’s that idiot talking about?” the Duke of Xenon grumbled, spitting up the black wad of sediment that had gelled in his belly. The form of Baron Schuma had already melted into the darkness. Now disgusted beyond words, the Duke of Xenon kicked a stone from the riverbank into the flow. The noise of the river swallowed the sound.
Suddenly the Duke of Xenon looked up; he’d heard a different noise. It was definitely artificial—a wagon speeding in the night air.
“It can’t be—they’re here?”
In amazement, he turned his face in the direction from which the sound was coming—and donned an intense expression of delight when he saw the sheer rock cliff.
“If the wagon’s coming here, then D will come, too. This time, I’ll do away with the lot of them.”
The silvery membrane wrapped around his body. As the river voiced its endless laughter, the armored combatant stood on its bank. In his right hand a sp
ear instantly appeared. And in a single bound he crossed the same river Baron Schuma had walked across, going headfirst toward the sheer cliff, then spinning like a top to bore into it.
Radar within the exoskeleton had already put onscreen a graphic representation of the size, shape, and mass of what ran across the ground—it was definitely that cargo wagon. Was D there, too? Even if he wasn’t, the duke could always capture the others to lure the Hunter out. No, that would be too much trouble. He’d kill them. If he did that, the Hunter would undoubtedly succumb to his anger and come looking for a fight.
Although he was sadly mistaken on both counts, the Duke of Xenon believed these things anyway.
Traveling at full speed, he began his ascent.
—
Three hundred feet shy of the slope into the gorge, Sergei cut to the left and drove into the forest. He and Juke set about camouflaging their vehicle, covering it with leaves and branches they’d prepared ahead of time.
“The villagers won’t come after us at this hour, so we’re safe there, but the Nobility are a threat. If they were to use wind devils, they could find us, no problem,” Sergei grumbled.
“Settle down. Now hurry up and go tell them down below.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once they’d finished, Sergei took one of the flares from the front seat and headed into the forest—he still had on a pair of infrared goggles that allowed him to see in the dark. Taking the descending road, he was buffeted by the night wind as he stood at the top of the cliff, looking down at the waterfall. Dawn was beginning to spread in the eastern sky. The night was at an end.
He was approaching a terrific splashing sound. Halting, he found the river running right by him. His field of view was dyed green by his infrared goggles. The band of water dropped in a waterfall about a hundred feet to Sergei’s right. Directly below him were Gordo and the others.
Holding the flare at an angle so it would fall into the waterfall’s basin, Sergei pulled the cord on its bottom end. A pink ball of light lent the same hue to its smoky tail as the base of the waterfall swallowed it. Even behind the wall of water, there was no way they could miss that light. Gordo would be making preparations to leave while they headed down for him. Those preparations, however, merely meant telling one of the two women what was happening.
“Damn, that Schuma’s a lucky bastard!” a voice called out behind the transporter, and it was one he’d heard before. As his right hand reached for his shirt pocket, his whole body froze. Three thousand volts of current had just shot through Sergei.
“Y-y-y-you—”
He’d intended to call the Noble a son of a bitch, but his tongue didn’t get that far.
“Where is Lady Ann? No, you don’t have to answer that. She’s behind the falls. My compatriot’s already gone back there. As for you—would you rather be a corpse or a hostage?”
“Y-y-y-you—”
“Have it your way. As long as the fellow in the woods remains, you’re just excess baggage. Die, then.”
The fingertip the Duke of Xenon laid on Sergei’s shoulder was about to send ten thousand volts of current through the man when a voice on the dawn breeze called out, “Father!”
The Duke of Xenon was so surprised, he took his hand away from his foe’s shoulder, and Sergei collapsed on the spot.
Up ahead and to the left, Lady Ann stood with her feet together on a boulder that jutted at an angle from the ground. Her legs were together so tightly, there wasn’t room to slip a piece of paper between them.
“Oh, Lady Ann—” the Duke of Xenon began before breaking off, about to say something about her being okay but finishing before anyone ever heard those words.
“Father—do you still pursue these people?” the girl said in response, but in her voice there wasn’t a trace of the emotion expected from a daughter being reunited with her own father.
“I have no business with them. D’s the only one I want.”
“Still you persist?”
“Are you out to become a traitor, Lady Ann? The great General Gaskell will never forgive you.”
“I’ll pay a call on him later to offer my apologies.”
“And you think the general will accept that?”
“Then I shall have to kill him.”
His beloved daughter said this so impassively that the Duke of Xenon could only stare at her in amazement.
“Just as I thought—love for D has addled your brains. Lady Ann, come back with me. I’ll free you from this brainwashing. But before we go, put this on.”
The Duke of Xenon extended his right hand. In it he held a small atomizer. It sprayed a mist that enveloped the girl’s body.
“Today’s the third day. Your shields have worn out. This will give you another three days,” he said in a gentle tone, but Lady Ann looked melancholy.
“Please, forget about me for good. The girl you see before you isn’t the Lady Ann you loved, Father.”
“Oh, how can you say that?” the Duke of Xenon said, extending both of his huge hands as if in appeal. A second later, purple light connected Lady Ann and the Duke of Xenon’s right index finger.
“Aaaah!”
Up on the boulder, Lady Ann bent back as far as she possibly could. It looked as if she had been completely paralyzed, and white smoke rose from her body.
In the Duke of Xenon’s eyes lurked madness deeper than the darkness.
“If I have to hand you over to another, I’d sooner—no, just consider this your punishment for betraying your father and abandoning him. Die here and now!”
But these shouts of sorrow and insanity, heard only by the night, stopped there. As if he’d suddenly recalled something, he immediately said in a vacant tone, “Wait. Wait just a minute . . . You’re . . . Yes, I’m sure . . .”
If he’d had another second, the next thing he said surely would’ve explained everything. However, the eyes of the Duke of Xenon’s exoskeleton glowed red as he turned to his right, and the road.
Lady Ann collapsed, just as Sergei had.
The figure who stood about fifteen feet away, with watery light behind him, looked like a grim reaper in black who’d just arrived on his trusty steed to oversee the demise of the other players. However, this grim reaper was beautiful. So beautiful you could call him the devil. So beautiful he might be mistaken for an angel. But before she could do either, a person would undoubtedly offer up her life and soul in rapture.
D.
—
II
—
“Do you have any idea how I’ve searched for you?” the Duke of Xenon said in a monotone, as if reading the words off a card. “Oh, you don’t have your left hand back yet, do you? Great! That means the battle’s as good as decided.”
“You didn’t have to search for me,” came the response in a shadowy tone that was somehow crystal clear at the same time. D was on horseback. “I’ve been following you all along. And now I’ve finally caught up to you.”
“What?” The Duke of Xenon was perplexed, but then a certain memory flashed in his brain like lightning: My instincts are telling me D is close by.
“For how long?”
“Ever since you disappeared in front of the gate. The sound of you burrowing through the earth reaches the surface fairly well,” D said, but anyone without the duke’s ears probably wouldn’t have heard it. The reason it’d taken D so long to catch up to the Duke of Xenon in the flesh was because the armored exoskeleton could travel in a straight line underground, while the Hunter’s cyborg horse had been forced to blaze a trail through the woods.
“I’m surprised you had the nerve to follow me, especially wounded like that. And without your left hand to cover for those wounds, you think you can defeat me—Roland, the Duke of Xenon? On top of all that, aren’t you still blind, D?”
D had both eyes shut firmly.
“Don’t do it . . . D . . . You mustn’t . . . fight Father . . .” Lady Ann groaned, her words creeping across the ground like the speech of the de
ad.
The figure of D, covered in blood after having been run through with three of the Duke of Xenon’s long spears, was reflected in her eyes. Tears glistened in those eyes, which could only be described as large and round. It wasn’t that she was moved by the ferocious spirit he displayed in pursuing his foe in his condition, and now preparing to cross swords again; she wept at the sight of the man she loved covered in blood. She didn’t care about her father, or the cargo wagon, or the great General Gaskell. Her tears were an unvoiced plea, from her to him, to not do battle in this condition but to flee from this place as soon as possible.
But the man she loved didn’t demonstrate so much as a mote of understanding of her feelings. D drew his sword. His body went into motion.
Astonished, the Duke of Xenon backed away. Neither the speed of the Hunter’s leap nor the aura that crashed down on him like the angry sea seemed that of a dying man. The Duke of Xenon parried the sword the young man brought down with his long spear, which broke in two. Tendrils of blue electromagnetism reached out from the right shoulder of his armor like spidery limbs. Another fraction of an inch and D’s blade probably would’ve reached the duke’s body within.
Groaning, the Duke of Xenon watched D land, and then circled his armored form around behind the Hunter. His speed was in excess of Mach 3. The Duke of Xenon had plenty of time to take aim at D’s back.
Was this to be a replay of the battle in front of the main gate?
A flash of light came from D. He’d reversed his grip on his sword and made a thrust behind him. The blade penetrated the armor like it was paper, piercing the Duke of Xenon through the heart.
“Aaaah!”
Scattering howls of pain and curses, the Duke of Xenon once again raised a long spear, and then brought it down. It was easily deflected.
There was another flash from D.
The massive exoskeleton became thin shreds of paper dancing in the wind. All that remained on the ground was an imposing man struggling to retain his footing. He took a step toward Lady Ann, who was now sitting up. His body started to separate just above the hip. When he fell, a startling amount of black blood spurted out, shrouding the two halves of his body like a fog.
Vampire Hunter D: Dark Road Part Three Page 5