Anvil stood and walked over to Chris, “You’re my son?”
Anvil went to place his hand gently on Chris’s shoulder, but Chris moved away, “yes I am.”
Then Judgement came to the fore, “By flesh are we related. When I was re-born, Judgement entered me but Chris remained also. I am Judgement and I am Chris. Both held within one body. My first task as Judgement is to destroy the evil in Edge and restore the status quoi “
Anvil looked crestfallen, “Now I realise what Edge meant when he said he’d kill me and his son. He didn’t mean himself, he meant you. Somehow he knew he’d have a brother to kill. Oh my God in Heaven, what have I done?”
Chris resurfaced for a moment, “Father you are not to blame. I think...” then Judgement took control again “…Anvil. This was decided eons ago. The Creator and the Destroyer arranged all this as a test for the sake of humanity.”
Judgement looked around at the rest of the Twelve, “We have been chosen to represent all that is good in humanity, even you Heartless. No offence intended.”
Heartless smiled, “None taken.”
Judgement continued, “Edge and the Dark were created by design to represent all that is evil in humanity. If we fail in this test, then light shall fall and night shall reign for all eternity.”
Rage surprised everyone with an unusual show of sarcasm,” No pressure then.”
Heartless looked around the room, “So stop me of I’m wrong but, we’re all sterile. I know this because over the years some of you have had the urge to wine and dine and others pay and lay. But hey folks! No kids’ right? Yet Anvil here not only produces two brats, no offence intended Judgement.”
Judgement smiled, “None taken.”
“But getting two different women pregnant and both set to kill one another. I mean come on!”
Priest sighed, “The Creators of good and evil used Anvil as a means to an end. He created Judgement and Edge, two brothers, one good one evil. That is the real test. ”
Anvil had a look of horror and shame on his face, “It’s all a test!”
He thought back to the beginning. He, Anvil walked the Earth gathering the Twelve to him, a religious number not lost to him. His actions created the first of The Dark. A miracle allowed him to father two sons. Kane and Able, Edge and Chris, one with the desire to kill the other, all of this was his doing. He was the catalyst that created the confrontation to come. What else had he created without his knowledge?
Anvil buried his head in his hands, “I can’t go on.”
Chris was having an inner conflict of his own, ‘If we’re to work together you must stop taking control of me.’
Judgement answered, ’I’m supposed to have replaced you when you died.’
Chris grimaced, “I may have died and been re born but I’m still here. You’re my guest, so behave like you, show some respect!’
A moments silence then, ‘Agreed.’
Judgement asked Chris to do something and Chris agreed. He walked over and picked up Anvils weapon. The entire room gave a collective gasp. No one but Anvil could lift it, let alone use it.
Judgement held out the weapon to Anvil, “Yes you can. You were given no choice in what you did. It was written in the stars long before this world was created.”
Anvil slowly reached out and took his weapon, “I still lead?”
Chris returned and offered him a smile, “Yes…father”
Speed skidded to a halt next to them, “We’re going to fight The Dark proper?”
Priest nodded, “Unto death.”
Speed looked to Heartless, “Pay and lay?”
Heartless grinned, “Why not. One last time I think.”
Both men left the warehouse together. Huntress surprisingly walked off towards the bedrooms with Bulls Eye. Priest went over to the kitchen and removed several chicken legs and a bottle of vintage white wine from the fridge.
Slash and Hot Cross joined Rage and together they approached Judgement. Slash spoke for them, “We’re going out to look for Shades. If we’re to die fighting the damn Dark, then at least we can have one last treat and destroy a few more of those slime balls before sun up. You coming Patch?”
“No I’ll stay with….Chris.”
They ignored Anvil and left the warehouse to go hunting.
Anvil offered Chris sad broken smile as he walked off to stare out through one narrow window at the river side lighting along the Thames.
Chris found Patch’s hand in his, “Lets leave him in peace.”
Chris asked, “McDonalds?”
Patch returned the grin, “Even better. Hard Rock Café, you’ll love it.”
“Street clothes, or leather?”
“Oh diffidently leather!”
As they walked away, Anvil called after him, “Son?”
Chris stopped. That single word stopped him in his tracks, he waited. Anvil appeared to be struggling with his words.
“I’m so sorry.” The words tumbled out.
Chris, who was once his son and still was, sighed and offered a slight sad smile,” You weren’t to know father. Besides thanks to Judgements, I know a much higher authority planned all this. So what chance did you or I have in having a say in any of it.”
With that Patch and Chris left the vast warehouse living area, leaving Anvil all alone with his thoughts and the word’ father’ that lingered on in his mind.. Well nearly alone. A huge belch reminded him Priest was eating over at the kitchen counter Faint giggling, told him Huntress and Bulls Eye were making love in one or the others bedrooms at the other end of the floor.
“What would have you decided?” Priest asked.
Anvil was pulled from his thoughts by Priests question, “Decided. Oh yes. No I’d decided to tell Edge the answer was no. I wasn’t going to kill Chris and that was before I even knew he was my son. So it will be war.”
Priest thought for a second, “The trouble is we’ve been around so long we’ve come to like it, living I mean. But really when it comes down to the crunch, living or dying isn’t our choice. We’ve been put here to do a job and if that means dying again, then so be it.”
Anvil knew what he meant. One thing was for sure, lives would be sacrificed in the days to come. No longer would this particular fight be stretched out over thousands of years, it would be over one way or another in a few days or weeks.
He turned to Priest, “Got any chicken left old friend?”
“Aye and a drink?” Priest asked offering his hand.
Anvil moved over to clasp his friends hand in his, “Why the hell not”
And for once Priest didn’t tell him off for blaspheming .
Chapter Seven
The next morning or nearer lunchtime, a bleary eyed Anvil knocked on his son’s door. After a few moments a tired voice gave permission to enter. He opened the door and stepped inside. The dividing room partitions didn’t quite reach the warehouse ceiling. (Naturally as it was over thirty feet above every ones head) daylight spilled in over the top of each wall, illuminating the room with a descending, sliding scale of soft yellow sunlight. In the darkest, furthest corner, lay a single bed.
A figure reached out to turn on the bedside lamp situated on an old tea chest on the left hand side away from the wall. It was Patch and if Anvil was surprised, he didn’t show it. The top half of her face peeped out at him from over the top of the heavy quilt. A lump next to her, stared and a hand pulled back the quilt to reveal a tired looking Chris.
“Mornin.” Chris mumbled.
Before Anvil could reply, Chris threw back the covers. Both he and Patch were dressed in Tee shirts and boxer shorts. Patch swung her legs over and off the bed, stretching she managed a massive yawn before moving over to collapse in the rooms single armchair.
Chris sat upright, leaning back against the wall,” You look tired.”
Anvil for some reason felt it would have been nice had Chris called him father again, but he guessed that would be too much to ask. “No sleep. I need to show you something
when you’re ready.”
With that he nodded once to Patch turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. Patch smiled at the closed door, then hurried back to jump onto Chris. They exchanged a brief and passionate kiss before parting.
Patch started to pull on her leather trousers, “Good job we got dressed before he walked in.”
Chris smiled but said nothing. He too started to dress. Once decent, they both walked out into the living area. Nearly every one was eating breakfast or lunch, depending upon the time they had risen.
Speed and Heartless were missing, presumed still out on the town. Rage was nursing a shoulder wound with a field dressing strapped over it. Slash had a black eye and Hot Cross was grinning between mouthfuls of toast dripping with strawberry jam.
He looked over as Chris walked up, “Missed a good fight last night Judgement, got our selves twenty to thirty grey slime balls.”
Slash touched his black eye, “Twenty eight, best be accurate.”
Patch pointed to his eye, “You let one get that close?”
Slash glared over at Rage, “Wasn’t a Shade who did this.”
Rage looked embarrassingly down at the floor, “Not my fault you got in way of body parts.”
Chris couldn’t help himself, “Body parts!”
Hot Cross burst into laughter, “Rage ripped a Shades arm off at the shoulder, and used it as a weapon. Pretty good lateral thinking from Rage I thought. Anyhow Rage was battering Shades left and right when up runs Slash, knife in hand. He’s spotted one about to jump off a wall onto Rages shoulders from behind. Threw his knife just as the arm slipped from Rages hand.”
Slash didn’t think it very funny, “Arm hit me right in the eye.”
Chris pointed to Rages wound, “You injured too?”
Slash looked even more angry, “Never once missed with a knife until now. The clumsy fool got in the way.”
Patch was horrified, “You knifed Rage!”
“It was meant for the Shade jumping off the bloody wall.” He exclaimed.
Hot Cross grinned, “I flashed the one in mid air coming at Rage, burnt its head clean off. Rage didn’t even know he’d been hit until I plucked the knife out for him.”
Patch ran over to Rage and hugged him gently around the knees, her head resting on his hip, “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
“Hey!” Slash exclaimed, “What about my black eye. It hurts like hell you know.”
Rage patted Patch gently on the head, “Rage okay, Slash’s wound and mine would have healed quicker had not been caused by each other “
That reminded Chris when he’d tried to hurt Rage. They can’t hurt or attack one another, not allowed.
Chris looked around for his father. Priest pointed a finger upwards, “Next floor.”
Chris took the lift up one floor, he hadn’t been up past the living area before, thought it was disused.
A huge roll of thick polyurethane frosted plastic covered the entire area just outside the lifts entrance. Chris realised it hung down in wide strips and pushed his way through to the other side. The floor space was the same size as the one below but covered in dust and debris. Only eight out of forty overhead lights where working, which gave the area illuminated pockets of light within pitch darkness due to the fact that all of the windows were bricked up. Anvil stood in one such area of light over to the left.
He stood with arms folded, waiting for Chris to join him. He was surrounded by old fashioned steamer trunks of different sizes. Chris walked over to join him, staring at the luggage.
“They look old.”
Anvil replied, “They are.”
He pointed to the nearest eight or so trunks, telling Chris that they contained all there spare clothing as well as spare weapons for each of the Twelve who used them. They all had combination locks. The number was the same for them all, seven, zero, zero, two.
Anvil smiled ironically, “Priests idea of a joke.”
Chris looked up at him questioningly. Anvil shrugged, “It’s my age.”
He pointed to three much sturdier chests that seemed to be re-enforced with iron bands, “Those are our portable war chests.”
He allowed himself another smile, “Actually they’re not that portable. Rage usually carries them for us. They contain euros, English Pound notes and US dollars to the value of three hundred and eighty million pounds.”
Anvil indicated yet another two smaller chests, no more than two feet square, “The one on the right’s filled with gold ingots. Gold’s a universal currency; never know when it’s needed. They used to have the Nazi eagle stamped on them. Don’t worry I wasn’t on the wrong side during that war. In fact I found them in a convoy of trucks bound for Austria. Priest and I was out looking for a nest when we came across them by chance. The lead truck ran straight into Priest. No contest really, looked like it had run into the side of a mountain. We took care of the Nazi scum riding with the cargo. The officer and I had a long talk about what he could expect to find in Hell before I tapped him with this.”
He indicated his hammer. “And smashed him off the side of the mountain.
“We hide the trucks in a lake until after the war. Rage brought up the one hundred crates of gold from the lake bed after the state of Israel was declared. We managed to avoid the British embargo and the newly formed Israeli Government thanked us for returning what was theirs. They re-melted the gold down again to remove those Nazi emblems and allowed us to keep twenty bars for our war chest. You see Priest had a long talk with there Chief Rabbi. That man was one of the first to find out about our existence. He blessed the gold first. Damn things were tainted with the blood of innocents, then my weapon. He said it was the hammer of God.”
Anvil stopped as he thought back to those earlier days before remembering where he was, “I digress. The other smaller chest contains copies of the deeds to over three hundred dwelling type properties and legal ownership to over four hundred and eighty different companies worldwide. I own them all outright but let others run the businesses. The master copies are in a safe deposit box in the Bank of England.”
He pulled a key with a thin gold chain attached, from his trouser pocket, “Priest and Huntress have identical keys. Wear it around your neck out of sight. That will get you into the Banks safe deposit box. Use the same code as the padlock number for the password ‘7002’. You will find everyone including you, has a dozen spare passports in different names plus identification papers, driving licences etc. The box also contains online access codes, passwords and the names of banks in Zurich, Vienna, Austria and the United States. There are several hundred millions in each of those accounts.”
Chris took the offered key, “Why tell me all this?”
“If something should happen to me. Priest and huntress, are my executors. You however are my son. All this will become yours should I die. You will need to look after the….survivors.”
Chris could see he wasn’t finished, and waited as he turned and walked over to another pool of light. A single rectangular trunk stood under the spotlight.
“This contains my personal belongings. They are yours if I should …die. I’ve changed the code on the combination lock to 0016, your age, when we first met.”
Chris looked up, “First met? That was only four months ago. You make it sound like ages ago.”
Anvil smiled, “You’ve aged son or rather Judgement has aged you. Haven’t you noticed you’ve grown in height? Put on weight, added muscle?”
Chris hadn’t until now, but his father was right, he was older! “But my clothes still fit me!”
Anvil just cocked his head to one side and shrugged, “Dwarf clothing” Was his only explanation.
He explained that the chest contained a map how to find all of the existing Dwarves dotted around the globe. A necklace he once wore in another life together with his first iron axe head, “there are some other papers and photos dating way back when and letters of introduction to world leaders past, present and future, you may do with
them as you think fit.”
Future leaders? Before Chris could say anything else, his father strode off into the darkness. Chris waited until he reappeared far away in another pool of light. He saw that it contained a very small box. Anvil waited until Chris joined him. Bending down, he retrieved the box and handed it to Chris.
“This is for you. It contains a lock of her hair in a sliver locket and four photos of your mother and I taken in one of those photo passport machines. It was more than a one night drunken stand but we were never in love, never thought of marriage. I did care for her and set her up in a small flat. Whenever I could I visited her. She never took another, always waited for me. I was away overseas for quite some time, didn’t know she had died in child birth. I was told were she had been buried without a headstone, but nothing about you. I paid for her body to be re-buried. One day I’ll take you to the church where her crypt stands. The box also contains an old rope and bead love bracelet that belonged to your step brother’s mother. She gave it to me when I left. I kept it because that chance encounter meant something to me. Of all the women I’ve known, they are the only two I have anything that belonging to them. I know it isn’t much, but it’s the only link I have to give you that connects you to your past. “
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