The Eternals

by Richard M. Ankers

  “Jean,” Linka whispered.

  “Yes, sweet thing.”

  “Will you always watch over me?”

  “What has brought such thoughts to your mind? Is it my tale of misery?”

  “No.”

  “Then, what?”

  “Perhaps, the storm? Perhaps, being here with you content?”

  “If you are content, then I am glad. And as regards your question, there is nothing in this world I should sooner be glad of than caring for you.”

  “You will protect me?”

  “You have never struck me as a woman who needs protection,” I attempted to joke.

  “Seriously, Jean, it is important.”

  I cupped her chin in my hands and whispered, “For all eternity, my love.”

  Linka smiled, but couldn't help turning away to stare out at the storm.

  “Now, you owe me a story of your own.” I kissed the top of her head.

  “Yes, I suppose I do.”

  Linka's shoulders heaved and then slumped. The ferocious wind pulled back long, raven hair from her perfect face and the sea spray mixed with the falling rain to sparkle like diamonds in the lightning. Then, she tensed catlike and ready to pounce.

  “What is it?”

  Linka lent forward, as though trying to see through a fog that coalesced before her. Saying nothing, I followed her gaze into the night, as the lightning crackled with explosive energy all around. I saw nothing. But she did. I watched the delicate hairs on her arms stand to attention. Whether it was due to the static in the air or some form of female intuition, I was unsure?

  “There.” Linka pointed into the night.

  “I see nothing, my darling, other than darkness and the angry elements.”

  “Watch the lightning over the sea.”

  “I don't understand what I'm supposed to be looking at?”

  “There!” she hissed. “Look, Jean, look deep into the lightning.”

  I did, but wished I hadn't.

  “What is it?” she gasped, as the lightning crackled around something all too solid.

  “It is a craft of some sorts. Look at how the lightning fizzes across a curved hull. Whatever it is tries to hide in the clouds, but fails.”

  “What, or who, could it be?”

  I wracked my brain for an answer, but had none. “Who knows of this place?” I snapped.

  “My father, a select few esteemed subjects.”

  “Were they aware you resided here?”

  “I would say not, although now, yes. My father was selective in the extreme in my concealment.”

  “Is there anything of value in this place?”

  “No, nothing. There's nothing of more value than the food in the parlours and the cutlery from which the monks use to eat.”

  That was when it clicked: the monks!

  “Who knows of these monks?” I pinioned Linka's arms which made her grimace, but adrenaline can make one desperate.

  “I don't know?”

  “Think, it is of extreme importance.”

  “There was my father, of course, and the Marquis de Rhineland, after all he provided them.”

  “The Marquis! Damn him to hell!”

  “Jean, you're frightening me.”

  Linka trembled, so I let go of her and stalked the room.

  “I don't understand, my love, how can he affect us here?”

  “That man's lust for power knows no bounds. He will want my head for liberating Shangri-La. I hadn't considered his resolve might be greater than others of our kind. Whereas I expected him to run for his corpulent life, he has not.”

  “Hasn't he?”

  “Well, straight to Vladivar, I suspect. They are bedfellows in this. I doubt being told his blood supply had run dry would have gone down too well. I believe he means to take them.”

  “Take who?”

  “The Sunyins, and by any means,” I snarled. “Probably the more violent a means the better. Yet, we may have a trump card.”

  “What, pray tell, as you have lost me.”

  “Me, dear girl.” I spun round on the spot to glare at her with barely concealed fury. “I'll not let him repeat the atrocities he perpetrated on his own soil.”

  “You cannot battle an army, Jean. You simply can't!” Linka implored.

  “I owe the Sunyins,” I said, calm again. “But I cannot fight whilst worrying about you. We have to get you to safety. Is there any way off this accursed rock?”

  “I will not leave you, Jean!” Linka yelled into the wind.

  “You must, you have to!” I took her by the shoulders and pulled her close. Drenched from the storm she hung limp in my embrace, but like me felt no chill. I would have wrapped her in tissue paper if I could, stored her beautiful body somewhere safe, but I could not.

  We almost jumped from our cold skins at the rap upon the bedroom door.

  “Come in!” Linka called, already realigned to her regal best.

  The door opened to admit three monks, plus the blind Sunyin. He looked even more aged since last I saw him. The wrinkles of his forehead marked him as the rings in a tree trunk, his skin appeared so thin as to be transparent in the flickering light. He sniffed the air and looked right through me, those blind eyes seeking out something in the heart of the storm.

  “You know who comes?” he enquired.

  “I do,” my somber acknowledgment.

  “And it would do no good to try to stem your rage?”

  “It would not,” I replied.

  “And the Princess?”

  “She leaves. Is there a way off this rock?” I asked, praying to hear the answer I wished.

  “There are passages beneath the sea carved out long ago for such an emergency. They lead to the mainland and the safety beyond.”

  “Can you return her to King Rudolph?”

  “We can try, Jean,” he replied in his usual calm manner.

  “Then do so,” I said, thrusting Linka into the monk's arms.

  “No! No!” she protested, but despite Linka's superior strength, she did not resist them.

  “We shall take good care of her, you have my word.”

  “I do not need it. I would not entrust her to anyone else but you. Can all the monks get out the same way?”

  “They will not all leave.”

  “What do you mean, they won't all leave?” I roared, more in frustration than anger.

  “They will not leave you.”

  “But, I cannot defend them all.”

  “It matters not, my friend,” he smiled. “When life is given freely it is for that soul to decide and no other.”

  “But…”

  “This discussion is over, Jean. I will take as many monks as I can, but the others will stand with you.”

  “So be it.” I shook my head in despair, but knew there was nothing else I could do.

  The old Sunyin nodded at that, bowed low, and then hurried from the room with his brothers.

  A flash of twin emeralds was my last brief image of the woman I so loved before I turned back to face the onslaught.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  -

  Past

  Whether the storm recognised my mood as I stood alone at the window, I did not know, but it seemed to rescind from my path, ebb before my fury: good job too.

  * * *

  I watched the lightning splatter across the underside of the clouds only for it to congeal around a very definite area of solidity. If my eyes were to be believed then the ship, or whatever it proposed to be, was gigantic. Yet there was something spellbinding about the whole scene, magical almost. Indigo clashed with silver, gold with crimson, and through it all the gelatinous shape oozed through the atmosphere in relentless motion.

  I needed a plan, but at that moment struggled to come up with anything worthwhile. The one thing I could think to do was find and protect the monks. They would be my focus until I could wrap my hands around Vladivar's throat.

  I thrust my head out into the raging elements an
d looked up and down the walls of the monastery. The stone surface reared unyielding into view, a bleak ascension. Below lashed the Atlantic, but above flickered light. Water was never an option, so I decided on the light.

  Having seen the mazy nature of the monastery interior, I chose not to risk the corridors for fear of becoming lost, instead, I should scale the building's grim exterior. There was a very definite danger of Vladivar spying my spider-like form against the light sandstone, but I was beyond caring. I harboured a secret desire for the crown prince to do just that and have the whole ordeal dealt with, one way or the other.

  Stepping out of that window onto the windswept ledge was one of the foolhardiest things I'd ever done, but at that moment I revelled in it. There was significant doubt in my mind that even an Eternal such as I could survive a fall onto such lethal rocks way below, but I was bereft of alternatives.

  The turbulent wind snatched at my ragged clothing desperate to drag me to my doom; I did not allow it. I would not be kept from ripping Vladivar's dark heart from his armoured chest and showing him it before he died. It was this vision of revenge that aided my talon-like grip on the rough exterior as I climbed.

  Saying climbed would've made those five minutes of agony sound like an adventure, a day's exercise, perhaps. The truth was altogether more savage. The storm sought to strip me from my purchase at every moment. Lightning struck all around seeking to intimidate, the accompanying grumbles of thunder adding to the experience. Yet up and up I ascended, as rain gushed into my eyes, wind choked at my throat. All the whilst, the predator closed at my back. My nails bit deep into the rock, my booted feet scrambling below seeking purchase; there was none, but somehow I climbed on. When cold fingers groped for air instead of stone, my climb ended. I hauled myself onto the monastery roof and into the path of some two dozen monks. I thought they may run in fear. They did not. A moments shock crossed their serene features before all bowed in unison. I returned their respect, for I had it in spades for those little men.

  “Are there more of you!” I called into the gale.

  “No, Jean,” they said as one.

  “You all know me?”

  “We do,” their joint response.

  “Then you know what I am capable of. I'm presuming you are here as there is no other way into your home other than the secret sea entrance?”

  “That is correct.” Again, the many spoke as one.

  “Then, I need you to leave and head back down into the monastery for when I fall. They can't attack as a horde here, but I know I shall not hold them for long.” The monks stared at me through calm eyes. “Go on now, I shall not ask again.”

  The monks did not respond. Their lanterns fizzed and spluttered against the rain and I knew desperation. In a rage, I stormed over to the closest Sunyin, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him high into the night sky. His brothers responded by sitting down cross-legged on the waterlogged roof. What could I do but put the monk down?

  “We will not leave you, Jean,” the man I'd just threatened to murder said. “Whilst we are here the rest will have longer to escape. We are prepared for death, are you?”

  I looked at this little man, saturated, robe clinging to his slim figure, rain pouring off his shaven head, and considered his words. “No, I am not.”

  “Good, then that means you have something to live for.”

  “It does,” I replied, and turned to face the lightning.

  * * *

  Seeing Vladivar's craft descend from the clouds would have under other circumstances been a thing of exquisite majesty. The storm crackled about the leviathan's stout frame illuminating it for all the world to see. The ship was like a massive Zeppelin, yet not. Bulbous in build, polished to a reflective sheen, with some sort of giant propulsion system strapped to each flank, the craft lacked the stealth of Worthington's balloon but I suspected moved at great speed when required. I presumed that if the beast had not taken so long to decelerate then Vladivar and his men would have been upon us much earlier. Instead, the behemoth drifted ever closer until I could almost brush its side.

  “Have you weapons?” I called to the monks who'd returned to their feet.

  “We do not believe in violence,” the closest said.

  “Then what the hell are you going to hit them with?”

  “We will not hit them.”

  I must have looked dumbstruck, as they smiled in unison. However, I had no time to dwell on it. A cavity opened in the ship's side and the armour of those within reflected the violent night.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn't Jean. You get around for a man with no friends.” A voice like contorted steel rasped into the night air. “I see you've rounded up the sheep. Most considerate of you, tovarisch.”

  “If your men hadn't been so desperate to feast last time you would not have needed these men,” I replied.

  “Da, it's true, but things change. We didn't expect our blood bank to have become so rationed.”

  “I don't understand? Are there no more pigs to bleed in that damned, rusting throwback you call home?”

  “It is called a palace, not a home!” he bellowed, spittle merging with the wind. “Now, if you'd kindly remove yourself from my soldiers' path, we should be able to perform this operation with the loss of just one life. Yours, in case you were wondering.” The maniacal laugh that accompanied his words sickened me.

  “You call yourself one of the Hierarchy, yet you act like the scum I know you to be.”

  “I shall soon call myself God of this planet when I unite with that worthless whore you've befriended.”

  “I said nothing. He wasn't worth the words. The blood which flowed from my palms where sharp fingernails dug to the bone was all he got for a response.”

  “Hit a sore spot, have I? Never mind, it will all be over soon.”

  I saw Vladivar's arm sweep forward and the waiting hordes launched themselves at the roof. The armoured warriors landed with the agility of cats and were up and ready to pounce upon the monks as quick as a flash. I braced myself for intervention. There was at least forty of them, but I should take my compliment to hell.

  However, I froze, as did Vladivar's minions, for the monks had acted first. They lined themselves up along the roof edge as I imagined gulls once did upon cliff-tops all those centuries ago. The message was clear: move forward, and we jump.

  “They are bluffing!” shouted Vladivar into the storm. “Take them!” But his men were unsure as another phalanx jumped to their aid.

  The monks seemed too relaxed to be believed. Nobody could stand at the point of death in so serene a manner. They looked to the raging crown prince, then me, bowed, an almost imperceptible action, and then stepped from the ledge.

  “Nooooooo!” I screamed in synchronicity with my adversary, but it was too late.

  “Damn you, Jean! I'll have your head on a pike for this. We need blood, and we shall have it. Search the monastery, leave no stone unturned!” he bellowed from his eyrie, then jumped with more of his men to the rooftop. “You!” he blasted, his rage beyond control, his hands gesticulating like a demented sorcerer.

  “Do you mind not pointing? I find it offensive, you oaf.”

  “Always ready with a quip, aren't you? Well, there's a last time for everything, tovarisch.”

  “I have never been and will never be, your comrade,” I spat. “And I promise you this, Linka shall never be joined with you.”

  “Oh, shut up!” Vladivar roared. “Just kill him will you men, I'm sick of the sight of him!”

  The ironclad horde advanced as I retreated.

  “The next time you see me will be the last time you see anything, Crown Prince Vladivar, lord of swine. Of that, I promise.” And before he could react, I followed the monks off the rooftop and into the ferocious darkness.

  It was the hardest thing I'd ever done. Every pore, every ounce of the man I was said stand and fight. The cold hard fact of the matter though was that at long, long last, I wasn't just fighting for me. I had
purpose, revenge for those finest of men, the Sunyins, who'd sought only to draw and distract the enemy in the face of certain death. There was nothing more for me to protect in the monastery and only a reckless fool would give his life for valour: I was no fool. But, I also knew the race to reach Linka was on, wherever she was, before that monster could take her for his own. Whilst I still drew breath that would not happen.

  It surprised me to think with such clarity, whilst plunging to uncertainty. I even thought about that, but then the rocks reared out of the roiling sea, and all I knew was oblivion.

  * * *

  I opened my eyes to a lessening darkness and a mouthful of sand. The storm still raged, a crescendo of sight and sound, but other worries abounded. Destiny drew the oncoming sun, and I had to depart.

  My legs were shattered, so I moved my arms. One handful of sand after another, I dragged my broken body beyond the reach of the surf and across the shore. Blurred was my vision, and senses honed over centuries took hold. Desperation is a powerful assistant, and I utilised it to its fullest. If Vladivar sought me, I would not be found defenceless. Through seaweed and sand, rock pool and stones, I pulled myself on, and into what I hoped was a dark cave in the cliff face. In truth, it might have been anything, my mind was on fire with pain and knew not what it witnessed. Yet I crawled by instinct alone until my head touched stone, then crawled some more, before collapsing to the mercy of nature.

  * * *

  Unscalable cliffs, sharp as a wolf's teeth, stuck into a burning sky. Teetering atop each of the vicious pinnacles stood a monk saturated in blood. The Sunyins had that same composed look they always did until they stepped off their rocky towers and plunged towards me in abject horror. Those usually serene faces seemed wrong, wrapped in fear and confusion. I thrust out my hands to protect myself but the monks departed, replaced by a billowing cloak. Centred in darkness the cloak consumed the sky with its vastness. Obsidian flapped in an unfelt breeze extinguishing the inferno that was all else, and from the depths of the void Vladivar's eyes shone forth. White slits turned to furious ruby orbs as the world crumbled and Vladivar glared. I thought his evil to swamp everything before a golden glow appeared above him: the sun. The world exploded at its presence, rock and lava spewing forth over the caped form consuming it. I watched with a mixture of wonder and relief as Vladivar died an agonising death. But, in his consumption the dark protection he provided, knew release. Blinding rays filled my vision with the daylight I'd always craved. A brilliant illumination it transfused all with its leaping colours. My eyes danced in their sockets, as my body melted before that golden orb. Death took an Eternal lord and I passed into obscurity.