Judgement (The Twelve)

by Jeff Ashcroft

  Anvil had been right, the man did, in this case, maketh the clothes. His visit to Alina and Alfredo Fashion Suppliers of fine Leather had been an experience. The shop was in a fashionable high street full of designer shops. There’s had stood out with its black painted window frames and front door. The front window was filled with hats, belts, boots and jackets, all made from leather and covered in studs.

  Anvil had taken him along and once at the door step, dropped them both back into real time. The front door had an old fashioned brass bell over the door on the inside. It jingled gently as they stepped over the threshold. Alina and Alfredo stood behind the counter, side by side, strange middle aged men. Strange because both had black short curly hair, slightly pointed ears, huge walrus moustaches, bulbous wide noses, double chins, chubby bellies hidden behind black leather waistcoats engraved with spun gold. Strange because upon seeing Anvil, both smiled huge wide grins, revealing several gold teeth.

  But the real surprise was, as each turned away in the opposite direction to each other and started to walk towards the ends of the counter, they started to get smaller and smaller until only the tops of there heads showed! Finally both appeared from behind the counter, dwarfs!

  One had on brown leather trousers and the other black leather trousers. Both wore red shoes. It turned out brown legs was Alina and black legs; was Alfredo. They greeted Anvil warmly and to Chris’s surprise completely ignored his weapon.

  “Mister Anvil so good to see you again, you look as young as ever.” Alfredo stated politely in a deep granite bedrock sort of voice, which startled Chris.

  “Younger,” Echoed Alina, in an equally deep rock hard voice.

  Anvil leaned down and shook hands warmly, “Nice to see you pair of old rascals again, Hope you haven’t been overcharging your customers.”

  Both dwarfs thought this hilarious for some reason. It took a moment for the laughter to die away, finally Afredo turned to Chris.

  “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself and my brother. I am Alfredo and this is little Alina.”

  Chris tried not to laugh at that as both stood no more than four feet high. “Very nice to meet you.”

  Alfredo nudged his brother, “Nice manners.”

  “Manners.” Alina echoed.

  Anvil didn’t need to tell them why he was here. The two dwarfs started to walk in a slow circle around Chris. There eyes slowly drifting from the top of his head to the tip of his toes.

  Afredo fingered the sleeve of Chris’s leather jacket and pulled a face, “Anvil my friend, why he wear old cow on his back!”

  Chris was affronted; this was the nicest jacket he’d ever owned. He started to protect, defending Anvil’s generosity but both dwarfs said, “Shush!” At the same time.

  Then added Please as an afterthought.

  They continued to size up Chris for two to three minutes before moving back to the counter, heads together they whispered back and forth for several more minutes. Finally both grinned from ear to ear and shook hands with each other.

  Alfredo looked solemnly towards at Chris. Bowing once he stated matter of fact, “You are one with Anvils people now. We think the missing link eh? You called special name, Judgement we think eh?

  So clothes with fit your name. Preacher man you be and Judgement of all.”

  Alina clapped his hands and smiled, “Call back tomorrow and your clothing shall be ready.”

  Chris had to ask, “What clothes will that be?”

  Both dwarfs spoke as one. It was like rock rubbing on rock, “Flat wide brimmed preachers hat with leather trim, black cotton, round necked shirts with leather trim around the neck and cuffs. Leather full length jacket, thin and fine, with studded cuffs. Leather trousers with denim running down outside seams.” Both grinned, “Because you are young and young humans like denim. Also lace up boots with steel toe caps, nice and shiny, with two inch soles, for extra height, until you finish growing. Nice calf skin black gloves to finish with all made from our finest black grain leather.”

  Finally Alina asked, “Black belt two inch wide with inlaid rune letters in blue silver for words of power? “

  Alfredo nodded, “Yes but steel buckle for strength and reliability.”

  Alfredo stepped back,”Judgement?”

  “Judgement.” Alina echoed.

  Both bowed politely first to Chris then to Anvil, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Anvil pulled a bundle of cash from his pocket. Without counting them, Anvil placed the money on the counter. Chris’s eyes bulged, they all appeared to be fifty pound notes and there must have been four thousand quid on that counter. At least!

  “See you tomorrow then. Oh and Slash needs a new jacket. Speed stitched a rip up.”

  Alfredo went white,” Not Speed, with all due respect, magic go out of cloth with his messing! He is all speed and no style.”

  Anvil chuckled, it was the first time Chris had heard him laugh.

  “Dead right there.”

  As both Chris and Anvil left the shop and re-entered the In Between place. Chris asked who the two …he was about to say dwarfs but said tailors instead. Anvil chuckled again.

  “Dwarfs, you can say it you know, nothing politically correct in using the name. It is after all what they are. Dwarfs; from the old country”

  Chris smiled, “Like Middle Earth.”

  Anvil frowned, “No, never heard of that place before.”

  Chris shook his head, “Man! Like Lord of the Rings. You know the books and the films?”

  “Never read a book, can’t read. Never saw a film.”

  Chris was amazed but tried to hide it, “Then from where?”

  “The old country. My adopted home, Denmark as you call it now.”

  “You’re a Dane?”

  Anvil nodded, “Used to be called something else a long, long, time ago, primitive people in a primitive world. I had ideas above my station. Tried new things, made an axe from flint, then found a way to get iron from ore. I made an iron axe when all my people were still using stone weapons.”

  Chris gaped, ‘Jesus, the bloody stone age!’ and quickly apologised to God for swearing again.

  Anvil had stopped talking, so Chris quickly thought of a question, tried to be subtle, “You where born before your time?”

  “Died you mean. Chieftain came into my cave one night in the dead of winter. Heavy snow lay outside; he said he just wanted to get warm by my fire. Took the axe and brained me. When I awoke, the fire was dead and so should I have been but my wound was healed.”

  “Did you kill the chieftain and take back your axe?”

  “No I left camp went, up into the mountains and found the Elder race.”

  Anvil sighed as he remembered fond memories,”In time Folk lore renamed them Dwarfs. The Elder Race lived in small settlements high up in a valley between two peaks. The settlements where all joined by a network of tunnels and caves. I stayed with them for forty years and never grew any older. Fifty years passed, then sixty. Before I knew it a hundred had gone by, then two hundred and so on. I practised my skills and with the help of the Elders I forged the hammer you see me carrying from a rock that fell to the Earth thousands of years before I was born.”

  “Then this was the what, Iron Age, Bronze Age???”

  Anvil ignored the question, “let’s get back and eat.”

  Chris wasn’t finished, “How did they know I was this Judgement character?”

  Anvil half smiled, “The Elder race know everything. They’re the ones who give us our names. They named me when I first arrived and dressed me in new leather clothing to keep the cold out. It’s been a tradition of theirs ever since, naming and cladding us in leather clothing.”

  “But if you find someone in another country. How do you get them back to London?”

  Anvils eyes went skywards and with a sigh remarked, “London didn’t exist when I first started recruiting. Like I said Chris there are more than just those two. No matter where I am, I can always
find the Elders, or they find me.”

  Chris blinked and looked up from the television, realising he was being asked something. Priest repeated the question for the third time.

  Chris sighed (again), “I saw the thing you call Ghost attacking Patch, I don’t really know what I did. I sort of pushed her away and two big holes appeared in her body. If you can call a swirling cloud of black smoke with a face a body.”

  Priest made his way over to one of eight oak framed chairs next to a large mahogany dinning table, “Patch mentioned your voice changed at one point?”

  Chris shrugged, “I don’t remember that. Did those holes mean I hurt the thing?”

  Anvil who was resting on a recliner armchair, looking at pictures in a super comic next to a bookstand containing several dozen hard back books and a reading lamp, glanced up, “I’ll say! She will take weeks if not months to recover.”

  Chris noticed his hammer stood upright next to his chair within easy reach, “I still don’t understand how my hands could hurt her, your hammer yes, but not my hands!”

  Priest rubbed at his many chins, “Weapons come in many shapes and sizes young man.”

  Patch ruffled his wild light brown hair cut, “Glad we got rid of the nits, I like touching your hair.”

  She suddenly slapped him gently across the back of his head and stood up, “It’s about time you started to understand what we are and what they are.”

  Hands on hips she looked around the room, “I’ll start unless anyone objects?”

  No one answered but several smiled, so she continued,” First let me ask you a question. Why haven’t you grilled us further about who we are?”

  Chris glanced down at the rug, thinking about the answer, “I asked a few times but was ignored. I was never the brightest kid at school, always ignored, except for the bullies. I never questioned things, always tried to fit in and hide. I was never loved at home, except by my step father and that was a different type of love if you understand what I’m saying.”

  He glanced around at the others before continuing, “When I ran away, it was easy for me to fit in with the other vagrants. Like I said, I’ve always managed to hide in the background to avoid being noticed. I haven’t a clue about what’s going on with you lot but you’ve offered me a better place to kip than a cardboard box. You’re strong, so the bullies and child molesters can’t get at me. You’ve fed me and offered to cloth me.”

  He smiled up at Patch, “And allowed me to wash and clean myself and on top of all that you tell me I’m someone special, someone important. No ones ever said that to me before in my entire life. So I thought, ‘Chris keep quiet, keep your head down and fit in’. So here I am and apart from being scared and confused, which I’m used to. Then there’s these fine clothes Anvil paid for me to wear”

  He was resting his hat on his knees. For some reason he wanted to keep it with him at all times, like a weapon of sorts.

  “I’m also happy for the first time in my life and if you guys don’t want to tell me anything about yourselves. That’s fine by me, none of my business. But Dwarf tailors?”

  Everyone looked to Anvil who put down his comic book which he was holding sideways, “As I told you Chris, they’re The Elders. Later they became known as the’ Delvish’, which was an ancient name for ‘the small ones’. Man changed the name over the centuries to dwarfs. I think about three hundred and fifty are still alive, dotted around the globe. These two in this country are our tailors. As I said before they specialize in making the right clothes for each of the Protectorate and renaming us after our rebirth. They also do a nice side line in Goth clothing. They have Earth magic running through there veins and it is woven into the leather they stitch. Those two have been around for a very long time, I knew there parents in the beginning, both dead now naturally. They just are and always have been the Elders.”

  Priest belched, “Anvil was the first chosen by God to protect the human race. When he died he was still dressed in his rough hide jerkin, trousers, boots and his blacksmiths leather apron. His clothing became the blue print for the rest of us. A little bit of earth magic’s in these clothes. They’re our armour in a spiritual manner of speaking. Blessed by the Elder race, pure clean and sanctified. There are others but you don’t need to meet them yet.”

  Chris had another idea, “If Dwarfs are the real deal. Then next you’ll be telling me there are Elves and the like.” Chris laughed but no one joined in.

  He gaped, “You are joking!”

  Patch shuddered, “There are Elves Chris, and their real names are The Ellish. They have souls as black as hell. They support The Dark as Dwarfs support us. Luckily they number less than a hundred. Hope that you never meet one. Anvil did, he battled with it for three solid days and nights. In the end he prevailed and the Ellish was driven off mortally wounded. Anvil took almost a year to fully recover.”

  Chris was totally gob smacked. What next?

  Patch continued, “Chris you’ve only seen Shades, a ghoul and some of The Dark. God chose the Twelve to be the protectorate of mankind against ALL things evil. There are monsters out there Chris. They lurk in the darkness, creep through shadows, hide under childrens beds, creep through your nightmares and basically feed on human fear. God in his divine wisdom created us to combat these creatures that were spawned by the Devil.”

  Chris was beginning to see the bigger picture, “Then you haven’t just spent years and years, fighting The Dark here in London?”

  Priest belched, “Pardon me! No dear boy, we’ve travelled the world to fight these monsters, the Ellish, Paramons, Slith, Trolls and recently the Gints in Morocco. I hate Gints, they live in the hottest climates and I can’t stand the heat. It just so happens that you’ve arrived when we need you the most here in London. It’s The Darks turn to feel the wraith of God.”

  Chris nodded, “Okay forget about all these other monsters out there for now. I’m having enough trouble processing everything that’s happened to me as it is. Now this Edge character mentioned someone called Chameleon and I can count. Is he the twelve member of your group and if so where is he?”

  Everyone fell silent, some looked away, others stared at the ground, and even Rage suddenly looked very upset.

  Finally Priest cleared his throat; sorrow clearly showed on Priests face and grief stricken was his voice, “In the year 144BC, there existed in ancient Greece, a young actor who was renowned for his adaptation of the works of Aristophanes, a famous Greek playwright. His comedies were well received throughout Greece.

  Now this young actor was also well known for his mimicry of famous Greek officials. Some said, you could not tell them apart. The young man made many friends but also many powerful enemies. One of whom was General Diaeus. Oh he laughed along with the other spectators, when our young friend made mockery in jest at his expense. But inside he was seething with anger, vowing that someday he would remove this troublesome actor from his life and this world.

  The following year there was a great battle against the might of the Roman Empire. The Achaean general Diaeus led some fourteen thousand foot and six hundred cavalry against a combined Roman army of twenty eight thousand men under the command of The Roman consul Mummius. To cut a long story short, the Greeks won the first victory but in the end the Roman army destroyed them, the survivors fled to the Greek city of Corinth, the birth place and home of our young actor.

  The Romans sacked the City, killing, looting and setting fire to many a building. The Greek General, realising all was lost and that he faced certain death or slavery at the hands of the Romans. Ordered some of his most trusted men to burn to the ground the lodging house where our young actor was staying.

  Fifteen men, women and three children perished in that blaze. I know this because it was witnessed by Anvil who was present in the city. Our actor managed to escape the blaze but was on fire and staggering about in flames. Anvil smothered the flames but so severe was his injuries. Anvil could only sit and comfort him as he lay dying. Now three of t
he Generals men saw this and attacked Anvil with the intention of making sure of the actors death.

  Anvil drew himself up and with his hammer did smite his foes. Alas the actor died, but gloriously was re-born as Chameleon. His pain was swept away, but his deformities where so severe, it was said he became a man without a face.

  Anvil will not talk of his injuries, only that Chameleon wore from that day forth, a face mask, gloves and a hooded cape of fine leather. Chameleon quickly discovered his powers, when by chance they stumbled upon forty legionaries. Instantly he became the carbon copy of the Roman consul Mummius. He took the description taken directly from the solders own memories. Of course they allowed Chameleon and Anvil to pass and that is how he was re-born, renamed and fled Greece together with Anvil and Rage. Oh we know about the Generals intentions and feelings towards Chameleon, because Rage got the truth out of the General before breaking his neck. “