“Over the years, his skills proved to be of immense value as The Twelve grew and expanded in number. But during all that time he preferred to be on his own whenever he could. A sorrowful character that never again showed his face to us, or anyone else. The only person he occasionally bonded with was Rage.”
Priest glanced over at Rage who added, “Yes with my size and hunched back, I guess he sort of empathised.” He glared at Speed who was smiling, “Yes I can use big words and a big fist!” He held up one to demonstrate.
Priest continued and the others fell silent, “One evening, we all turned in for the night. The next morning as the sun rose early on a crisp winter’s day he went out early to reconnoitre and vanished, never to be seen or heard from again.”
Chris looked to Anvil,” I thought once you’re re-born you’re sort of bonded to The Twelve?”
Anvil opened his mouth but allowing Priest to answer, “Yes that’s right Chris. To be given the opportunity to feel, breath, see and hear again, is a gift that cannot be ignored lightly, especially when the gift comes from the Creator of all life. We know why he gave us this second life and we’ve all embraced it. But why Chameleon vanished is a mystery. One we’ve never been able to answer. We searched for him of course and will continue to search. I know inside here.” Priest placed a meaty hand over his heart, “That he still lives. Otherwise he would have been replaced. Therefore although departed, we are still Twelve in total.”
Chris was trying to take all this in, when Patch interrupted his thoughts again, “Okay my turn, so listen up and try to believe what I’m going to tell you.”
Patch stood there and told Chris the condensed version of her life. She was born part Japanese part Irish. Her father had been a sailor from Hollywood near Belfast, who’d visited Japan in 1854. He’d met this Japanese daughter of a local merchant and fallen in lust with her. When the time came for him to depart those shores, he left behind a pregnant and disgraced girl and a broken family. Cast out she had learned to live a life as a whore in the local taverns. When her baby daughter was born, she abandoned her on the doorsteps of a wealthy Samurai. His servants found her and would have drowned the baby if their Lord had not intervened. His own wife and baby son had been killed in a house fire not twelve months past.
He took the baby in and as she grew, he taught her the ways of a Samurai warrior. It was forbidden of course for a woman to take up arms and eventually one of his servants, with a loose tongue made the mistake of discussing it over one to many cups of sake. The local magistrate was informed and acting with a warrant signed by the Shoguns chamberlain, sent men to arrest the Samurai and his adopted daughter.
But the magistrate had over stepped his authority and the Samurai slaughtered the four men sent to lay hands upon him and his. Hearing this, the Shogun had the magistrate flogged and thrown out of the village. However after his chamberlain heard how angry his master has been and realising he had over stepped his place, committed Sepaku. So in order to save face, the Shogun was forced to sign a death warrant for the Samurai.
The Samurai of course was allowed to take the honourable way out and like the Chamberlain also committed Sepaku. The daughter, hidden from sight by order of her step father, witnessed his death. Driven by an overwhelming sense of grief and wroth, bade her time until one fateful morning whilst the Shogun was being taken to a nearby castle, ambushed the convoy. With no concern for her own safety, she slew dozens of men believed to be some of the finest warriors in the land. Mortally wounded she still managed to reach the Shoguns carriage. She threw her fathers Tanto (a short dagger used to slice open the belly when committing Sepaku) into the startled Shoguns lap.
But as she grew back her fathers short bladed Wakizashi to complete her revenge, one of the surviving retinue let fly with an arrow that ricocheted from the Shoguns carriage and pierced her left eye, she fell dying onto the dirt tracked road. Quickly, fearing for further attacks, the remaining warriors and servants carried the Shoguns carriage to safety within the castle.
Patch bowed, “And that was when Anvil found me and waited until I was reborn. Although healed, The Lord above left my eye socket empty as a reminder of my past life.”
Chris ran over the story in his mind,” Do you still have your fathers’ swords? I don’t see you carrying one.”
Patch grinned, “They are ready for use in the coming war, not before. Aren’t you going to ask how I still look so young? Or why was Anvil there? Or how was I reborn?”
Chris shrugged, “Not my place to ask. I can tell that you spoke the truth. Therefore it happened as you said. Anvil will or won’t tell me how he was there, whenever he may feel like explaining. The only thing I’d like to know is what happened to the Shogun. I hope he was punished?”
Patch jumped onto his lap and kissed him soundly on the lips, “You are Judgement! Anvil smashed his fat head in of course!”
Huntress stood and stretched her shapely long legs. As usual her white hair flowed about her head as if a gentle breeze was blowing.
She glanced once towards Chris with those strange white eyes before looking away, “My story will be even shorter. I was hung for trying to feed my family.”
Huntress started to walk away, but Patch stopped her, “Finish your story white eyes. Judgements one of us now.”
Huntress angrily spun to glare at Patch, “I’ve warned you about calling me that; little Cyclops!”
Patch started to get to her feet, but Chris pulled her back down, “Patch behave, if Huntress doesn’t want to tell me, that’s fine with me.”
Patch sat back down, mumbling curses under her breath, from across the room Priest told her off for blaspheming. Huntress stood there staring at Chris for a few seconds longer, before half turning away from him to stare at the rug, arms folded across her chest.
“I was poaching in the Kings Forest. It’s called the New Forest now. Back then it was the property of King William the First or William the Conqueror to you, it was a royal hunting ground for the rich and idle.”
Chris sat forward on the settee, “But that was in 1075!”
“1079 actually, but I came on the scene in 1084. I was caught, tried on the spot by several Dukes and one or two other stinking royalty. They hung me from the branch of a giant Oak tree and left me there to rot.”
Chris was still reeling from the time line, “1084!!!”
Huntress continued as if she hadn’t heard, “Imagine being reborn whilst hanging from a rope!”
She cast a reproachful glance towards Anvil, who quickly retorted, “It wasn’t my fault, I keep telling you. My horse went lame.”
Huntress turned her gaze fully upon Chris, “It was windy that day and my hair kept blowing even after death. It was black as a ravens when I died and white when I was reborn. It keeps moving on it’s own as if that wind is still blowing. My eyes, well a dead persons eyes glaze over after a while and it was cold that day. They stayed like this but my vision is a hundred times sharper than it was before I died.”
Huntress wore a high necked top and after a moments hesitation pulled down one corner to reveal a healed rope burn to her neck.
“That’s my story. Don’t ask anything else about me because you will get no answers.”
So Chris looked to Anvil and asked quietly, “What of her family?”
Huntress ignored him and walked away, so Anvil answered for her, “Her husband didn’t want her anywhere near him. Thought she was the work of the devil. Nearly broke her heart. I took her under my wing and we held up in a mill I owned in Kent. Priest and Speed helped care for her. Before we moved across the channel, he died a drunkard after selling his children into servitude. Told anyone who would listen that his wife was the walking dead and his children, spawn of the devil. Stupid man, no loss to anyone. “
Huntress cast him an angry glare but he ignored the look, “You know I’m right and I did rescue your children.”
Huntress relaxed her face, nodding once, “Aye, they had a better life than I could
have given them. You saw to that. Gave money as a secret benefactor to a family that had no children of there own, kept them together. That couple loved them as there own, at least they lived lives with a full belly and a roof over there heads in the country and I was there in the background when each and every one died from old age.”
Patch whispered to Chris, “Life expectancy wasn’t long. Her son was thirty eight when he died. Her daughters lived to see thirty six and forty one years.”
Priest coughed to clear the air, “Since my name was mentioned I shall go next. I was as you may gather a Priest but alas one with a sinful nature. I enjoyed too much food and drink. I did nothing with my life except preach, drink and eat. I had the honour of burying Máel Coluim mac Cináeda. He was my Royal Highness, the king of Scotland in the year 1034. It was a lavish and somewhat drunken affair. Alas I choked on a chicken bone at his wake and died flat out across a dining table without hardly any one noticing. Those that did found it somewhat amusing I was told.”
“Anvil was there and pulled me to the floor and removed the bone from my throat. He enjoyed the food and ale and waited until I was reborn.
I refused to believe I had died and been reborn. That was blasphemy! Only Gods own son held that privilege. I thanked Anvil for removing the offending bone but had him thrown out of the Royal Hall as a trespasser but due to his act of kindness, I did not insist on a beating, even though he was not one of the clan and had no place or right to be at such an event.
That night, I collapsed yet again, but this was due to excess alcohol and that was when I had my first prophesised dream. In it I stood in a circle of fire and in that circle, stood eleven beams of light that slowly took on human form. I couldn’t see there faces except for Anvils and my own. A voice told me that I was one of twelve and I was to follow Anvil without question. I awoke strangely without a hangover and so vivid was my dream, I searched outside in the surrounding village and woods for Anvil. Needless to say, he found me and that was that really.”
Priest belched once and added, “Excuse me! Oh one last thing. I keep getting prophesies from time to time which I pass on to Anvil.”
Priest looked down at his girth, “Oh and don’t be mistaken for believing I am slow, fat and useless. I can move far faster than my incredible weight suggests. I carry it as if I was as light as a feather. My body is a juggernaut. I can absorb and shrug off incredible punishment.”
Priest chuckled to himself, “Hey Speed, remember that bank vault?”
A gust of wind blew across Chris face and he found himself staring up at the whippet thin Speed, “Don’t I just!” Speed laughed
“Old Priest here was in a situation. We’d found a small Shade nest in a closed down bank in Middlesbrough of all places. The place contained about eighty Shades and we had a real set to. Well Priest followed three into the old vault and one of the cheeky bastards on the outside slammed shut the door. Now I’m talking about a foot of re-enforced layered steel plated multi hinged bank vault door. Well we finished off those outside and Priest, well he sort of squished those trapped inside. Anvil was just asking Rage to try and rip the door off its hinges, when all of a sudden there was this almighty crash from the next room. The place was full of smashed steel reinforced concrete and dust and there standing in the middle was Priest, covered head to toe in concrete dust and you know what?”
Speed continued without waiting for Chris, “I asked him how he’d gotten out of there? Priest just shrugged the dust off and said and I quote, ‘I prayed to God, put my head down and started walking.’ Now I’ll tell you something for nothing Chris, never get in the way of holy boy when he starts walking!”
Speed laughed at his own joke before adding, “Me, well you know my story.”In a flash he was fifty feet away, helping himself to a bottle of water from the fridge.
“I can run faster than anything on this planet. Kinetic energy kid! He held up his hand, if this hits you at four hundred miles an hour. It will be like a knife through butter. Patch taught me some basic moves. Extended thumb through the eye, thin skull, straight into the frontal lobe. Heel of the hand under the nose, drives the cartilage and bone into the brain. Fist to the throat, crushed windpipe, can’t breath. That’s my life, over in a flash, just like my love making.” He allowed himself a nervous giggle.
Patch snorted, “You’ll stay a virgin Speed.”
Anvil tapped his weapon on the ground, drawing attention to him self, “Finish introductions later. Speed tells me that they burned down our house and killed a civilian, so it’s pay back time. Priest says the security people we use informed him that there has been an un-usual amount of missing person reports over the past six months in an area further along the docks near Lambert Palace. I suspect a nest, let’s find it and wipe them out.”
Chris raised his hand.
Heartless chuckled, “Not in school kid.”
Anvil frowned at him, “Ignore him Chris…..I mean Judgement. What do you want to know?”
“Chris will do, what the hell is a nest and why do we need to kill these things apart from the obvious.”
Anvil looked over to Priest who took up the ball, “The Shades prefer night but can walk in daylight. They move in the In-Between time that normal people can’t see. But they need to sleep as well and to do that they drop into real time. So they need to find a place to hide. They sleep standing up and packed together real close to take up as little space as possible. That’s a nest, which is different to a farm.”
Slash added, “Oh yes a farms different. Only ever found three.”
Before Chris could ask, Patch whispered in his ear, “Farms are where they make Shades. You don’t really want to know the details yet. It takes a strong stomach.”
Anvil answered Chris’s question,” We destroy them, not kill them. They’re already dead but haven’t been allowed to move on. They’re trapped inside those slime covered shells that The Dark creates. They’re used to kill people and gather souls for the Dark. They can’t touch those that die by natural causes. They have to kill so that a soul can be turned into Shades.”
Anvil picked up his weapon, “Now we go hunting. I want you to stay with Rage and Patch.”
So it was that two hours later Chris found himself strolling along a run down dockside area of the Thames. The sun had been up several hours and was approaching twelve. It was still a very angry grey clad sky that threatened rain at any minute. A few tramps scuttled past not noticing Chris and his new found friends. Just as well, Rage would have driven them to jump into the fast flowing river without a moments thought.
Chris stared at the grey colouring of the In Between, “How can you stand this?”
Rage thumped a fist onto the dirt covered cobbled road, “Nice colour, simple.”
Patch as usual, was holding Chris’s hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze, “The In Between does something with the light spectrum. All colour is a lie anyhow. Take people who are colour blind, they see things differently. I was told once that it’s all down to the pigments in our eyes that interpret the colours we see. Change the pigments and the colours change with it.”
Rage started to grumble deep in his throat.
“Stop that!” Patch commanded.
Rage immediately stopped, “Sorry Rage forget, not like all this science stuff, never did.”
Chris suddenly stopped walking, causing Patch and Rage to stop as well. Rage immediately went into a crouch, his eyes darting back and forth.
“What is it?” Patch asked as she produced a thin bladed knife.
Rage growled, “I smell Shades.”
For the first time Chris consciously took in his surroundings. Nothing and yet…..he looked down at a huge iron grid he was standing on.
He pointed to it, “What’s this?”
Patch explained that barges used to come in under the quayside to off load sugar, flour and cotton in the warehouses around us. It’s a breather vent, but hasn’t been used for years, not since the entrances got all silted up
Patch was looking puzzled, as was Rage, “I’d say before the arrival of the car. Why?”
Chris pointed to the grid, “Do those hinges look well oiled and free of rust?”
Patch stepped off the huge iron grid and stared at the nearest hinge, examining it, and then turned to Rage,”Think you can lift it?”
Rage looked offended and without a word, slipped the fingers of one huge hand into the square gaps in the iron grid and heaved. It rose up without even a squeal.
Chris stepped forward and looked down into the darkness. He could just make out a wide iron ladder embedded in the concrete wall, disappearing down into the darkness. Without thinking, he held the palm of his hand over the void and closed his eyes it just seemed the right thing to do. Chris felt that same strange popping feeling as colour returned .After a few seconds he straightened up and Rage carefully replaced the huge grid without making a sound.
Judgement (The Twelve) Page 8