by Ridley, Dale
“Understanding has nothing to do with your total disregard of my orders,” Anais hissed. “Shall I completely erase your human side for you to understand that our mission is what’s important? Do not risk it over human thoughts of family.”
“And if I turn her over to our side and cause?”
“Then I will commend your efforts, for true Vae Victis believers would rather disassemble you limb by limb for even that very suggestion. What makes you think this will be any different? Because she’s your niece?”
“No because I will force her to see reason. Her loyalty is to her family and right now, she believes it to be Vae Victis. I will show her otherwise.”
Anais poured himself another scotch.
“You will be cruel enough to make her soul forfeit? To what purpose?”
“When your brother walks this plane, he will be allowed to rule for a multitude of years before true war begins. Samantha will be a fine shadow walker in his armies.”
“Is that right? You believe she has what it takes to walk in the shadows? That’s very high praise indeed,” Anais replied with raised eyebrows. “Maybe we should take a more personal approach in this matter.”
Andrew couldn’t help but shiver at the words. Anais’ personal involvement meant a painful and excruciating process that could very well shatter Samantha’s mind, if he attacked it with force. Even though he would kill her if he couldn’t turn her, he couldn’t put her through such an experience if he could avoid it. Anais meant what he said, he didn’t just say things in passing.
“But this issue is not why we summoned you here today. We have other things we need you to do.”
“Of course my lord, I’m here to serve.”
Anais gave him a smile, as if he knew a secret.
“My brother says we shall see about that.”
With a look from Anais, Edward grunted before turning and leaving the study, closing the thick double doors behind him. Andrew looked surprised that the Pallida Mors had been asked to leave the room.
“It’s a rule of power, my omnipotent,” replied Anais, seeing the surprise. “Even though we trust Edward with our lives, when you move pieces on the board it’s best to use deception whenever possible.”
CHAPTER TWO
MADRID, SPAIN
Manuel Garcia tried to control his rapidly beating heart and fought not to give in to the desire to look back. A feeling of cold dread rose in his stomach steadily, as he lost his trained discipline to glance back quickly to see the shadows and half features of the two men who were closer now. What did they want? He wondered as he picked up his pace while reaching into the left flap of his brown leather coat to grip a set of throwing knives that laid in specially made sheaths in various places. So occupied with his thoughts, he ran into a man coming around a corner and apologized quickly in Spanish, as the man glared at him before hurrying off again with his face set into a thin grim line.
He didn’t have to look that the men had drawn closer during the incident with the man and he prepared himself to send these men to the afterlife if he was provoked or attacked. The war with the godforsaken Vae Victis had changed rules that their order had lived by for years, but it was the anger that one of their elders was found with a gunshot wound to his head that made their order evoke the rule of killing in defense of themselves and the church.
He thought back to when he had first heard of the news of the Cardinal’s apparent suicide and then the discovery of the Vae Victis Flag, a blazing sun surrounding a sword and shield, after the church had tried to assassinate their leader. It was too much of a message to be a coincidence. The retribution had been swift on both sides.
With this thought, the gun that was tucked in the small of his back beckoned to him, but he quickly dismissed this option as an overreaction to the situation. He wouldn’t use it unless it was absolutely necessary. Was he letting the problems of his church make him overly paranoid? Once more, he cursed the Vae Victis, who had become exactly what the church had always knew they were. Pawns of the fallen angels.
Almost absently, he released the hilts of the throwing knives and crossed himself while he whispered a plea for forgiveness for his earlier blasphemy. He had let his anger get the best of him but he felt much calmer now, even as his mind continuously turned. The two men who followed him had started tailing him the moment he had exited the Vatican security organization safe house with an important dispatch for their contact for their contact in the city.
Looking up around him, he knew that he was closer to anther safe house and he darted into a narrow alley and disappeared into the darkness. The safe house wasn’t far. The two men who had followed came to the mouth of the alley and stop. Looking at each other, they started to smile.
A terrified scream pierced the night, followed by three consecutive gunshots before another scream. Knowing that there was no need to rush, the two men took their time entering the alley to the scene that greeted them. A fully turned lycanthrope had the priest pinned on the ground with its massive arms holding his arms at his sides. Its animal jaws were opened wide, posed over the priest’s exposed throat ready to rip and shred in a blood lust frenzy. It probably could smell the blood pumping through the priest’s veins.
“That’s enough Jake, I think you more than secured him.”
The werewolf turned its bright yellow eyes at the man who had spoken and relied by snapping viciously, as if challenging the words.
“Have it your way,” the man told the werewolf with a shrug. “If you allow your lesser base needs destroy our task, then it will be you who answers to the omnipotent.”
The werewolf went a little pale at the words, causing the man to laugh roughly.
“Man, I never knew one of our kind could turn such a color while in that form. Calm down,” he said gently as Jake growled. “And keep your mind on our task. Now, let’s see what we have here.”
The man came over and squatted down while turning his head sideways to study the Vatican agent with eyes that started to glow yellow to combat the darkness. The priest spat in his direction defiantly.
“You have big balls to attempt to spit on me with a three-hundred-pound werewolf sitting on your chest ready to tear out your throat for the meat beneath. I must say, I admire your courage.”
“Any man with a clear conscience and clean hands has no fear of death. But you, may your dark soul burn in the eternal fires of the almighty! I will not reveal any secrets to Vae Victis spawn!”
“Vae Victis? No noble priest, we have no ties to those who we consider enemies.”
Leaning over, he picked up a small glass encased cylinder that must’ve fell from the priest’s hand in the brief scuffle. It was small enough that there was no doubt that the priest had instructions to swallow it if he was captured. But Jake had gotten to him first, he thought as he also spotted the gun and picked it up also.
“What has the world come to when priests run around armed? You should’ve had better aim, priest, you didn’t hit Jake here once.”
The man saw that the priest was handy with a blade as two throwing knives were embedded to the hilts in Jake’s furry chest.
“I walk in the light of the lord demon! He will ever be my protection against creatures such as you.”
“But where is your god now, priest? I don’t think he heard your screams.”
The priest glared at the words. “They weren’t screams, they…I was just startled, that’s all.”
“Yeah sure, and I’m the freakin’ king of Spain. Don’t you know we can smell your fear, priest? It covers you now like a perfume. Fool yourself all you want priest, but don’t try to lie to us.”
“Do your worse demon, but you’ll never be able to break our codes!” the priest yelled, trying to show courage despite the man’s words. With a smirk, the man abruptly stood with the ground and stepped on it, shattering the glass. Twisting his foot, he grinded the codes into the ground.
“This is not what we came for.” Puzzlement crossed the priest�
��s face.
“What? What…what do you want?”
The fear smell on the priest increased. The man savored the smell before lifting the gun at the priest’s face.
“We needed someone in your order to go meet your god priest, you’re just the first one to come out of the door.”
Four shots followed the words without hesitation to echo around the alley. The man studied his handy work and was grimly satisfied before he tossed the gun aside. Jake released the dead priest and shifted back to his human form. The two knives looked gruesome protruding from his muscular chest and he yanked them free one by one before licking the blood off of the blades, as his wounds rapidly closed.
“A waste of perfectly good meat if you ask me,” he said gruffly, looking down at the now dead priest ruefully. “The smell of his fear and blood is making me hungry.”
“You’re always hungry Jake, but orders are orders. Now drag this lump of dog meat back to the street, so someone will find him.”
Grumbling, Jake did as he was told.
“And don’t forget the message,” the second man reminded them, speaking for the first time.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to have to do this again. Kind of a waste of time if you ask me,” stated Jake.
“No one is asking you Jake, now just shut the hell up and do it. You seem to have a lot of opinions tonight.”
“And make sure the gun’s found with the body, we want it to look like what it is. An execution,” the second man said as Jake went to work.
It took almost an hour before the priest was found with half of his skull missing by a shocked couple. Lying on his chest was the murder weapon and a small flag with a blazing sun surrounding a shield and sword.
ITALY-UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
As the receding patches of sunlight vanished, day gave way to the moment when the day hung on the point of the coming darkness. Around a rocky swirling road came a tall thick wagon pulled by a big oxen and its holds filled with sacks of white fleeced wool. It entered the circular old cobbled stone court yard and the man who sat upon it pulled the reins sharply, causing the oxen to stop with an angry snort and ruff shakes of its head.
The man squinted in the failing light and studied the fountain that stood in the middle of the courtyard, with a chipped angel who was missing one of its wings, before taking in the emptiness. No people were strolling the courtyard and it seemed as if the whole village was abandoned, but he knew that this was not the case. This was not an uncommon sight for a small mountain side village. In the world of Facebook and Twitter, many villagers still lived the simple life that their ancestors had for centuries. And they were really suspicious of any strangers and outsiders. Tradition was too embedded in the generations, change simply did not touch here.
The man jumped down from his perch on the wagon and stretched his limbs. He had been cramped on the wagon for what seemed like hours and it felt good to move around. He could feel the eyes on him as he went over to an oval shaped door and rap on it loudly. The sharp noise seemed to echo around the village courtyard. When there was no answer, he rapped again with a little more force.
“Where are your manners?” came a voice strong with curses in Italian. “Can honest hard working people eat supper in peace?”
The words ended as the door was swung open and a short squat man peered out with a scowl underneath his black bushy mustache.
“Yes?”
“I’m here with the order of wool for the village mill sir, my boss said it had to be here before nightfall. Where would you like me to put it?”
The short man leaned out the door and inspected the wagon before looking back at the younger man who towered over him.
“Wait here, I’ll go get my no good lazy sons to help with the unloading.”
“My thanks sir, it’s been a long rough ride. Almost broke a wheel twice.”
The short man nodded, knowing the mountain roads were rocky and treacherous. It took great skill to navigate them.
“What’s your name?”
“Verdi, Antonio Verdi.”
The man’s scowl relaxed a little as he released the double barreled saw-off to his wife, who was hidden behind the door. If the wagon driver did not know the proper code words, he would be dead right now.
“I know your father Benito well,” he replied and turned and gave a sharp whistle. Quickly, four thick compacted youths appeared and went to the wagon and started to unload the open sacks of wool. The courtyard went from shadows to pitch black as night had arrived. Soon, all five workers became six as a shadow detached itself from the back of the wagon to carry a sack of wool into the house before stripping off the workman clothes and given a black robe by the short owner of the house. The stranger nodded in thanks.
The stranger had never been here but he knew the lay out as if he had thousands of times and he went deeper into the house passed the same wooden table that the family had been eating supper at until the disturbance. The owner’s wife was now back over the cooling food and she ignored the robe figure as he passed and went deeper still.
Reaching a thick wall, he took off the hand sized crucifix with a ruby in its middle from around his neck and placed it in a slot at its base. The wall rumbled as it began to move and he retrieved the crucifix and put it back around his neck. When the wall finished, it revealed a metal/iron door. The robe figure knocked twice and waited patiently.
“Docendo, Discimus,” (we learn by teaching) a voice said from the other side in Latin.
“Ab Uno Disce Omnes,” (From one learn to know all) the robe figure replied.
“Fas Est Et Ab Hoste Doceri.” (It is right to learn even from an enemy)
“Ab Majorem Dei Gloriam.” (To the greater glory of god)
There was a pause before the heavy sound of a key could be heard being inserted into a lock. It squeaked as the heavy iron-bound door opened on rusty hinges. This man held a lantern and stood aside to allow entry.
“Greetings your highness, I hope your trip here has been…adequate?”
The robed figure passed him, shrugging as he went. The heavy door was push shut and relocked behind him.
“It was as adequate as can be expected due to the circumstances, brother.”
There was no need to elaborate on what circumstances that were stated because everyone inside their inner circle knew that they were fully and unquestionably at war. As a precaution, all movement of the core inner circle would be done covertly until all danger and Vae Victis destroyed, there could not afford to be any more lapses in security. One of them had already been murdered, no more could be lost. The man known as the doorkeeper turned with a short nod of understanding to light the way.
“Of course, of course your highness. Dark times are among the righteous that speaks of the end of days.”
“You, of all people, know that this was expected brother, Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum.” (If you wish peace, prepare for war)
The tunnel they traveled took them from the house and deep into the bowels of the mountain. The Vatican had many such secret places hidden throughout the world, but for now, they chose to stay near their powerbase and that was Rome. They haven’t used this particular place for over a century but they all thought each of the core inner circles was targeted for assassination. And without them, it would take the church decades to rebuild and recover. In one blow, it would cripple everything that had been achieved and put into place before the true war came.
When the impostor is dead, the Roman Catholic Church would lead the righteous in the battle against the father of lies and be victorious. They walked on in silence, as both men wrestled with their own thoughts. After about one hundred yards, they came to the mouth of an opening that led into a vast chamber that could not be measured. Looking up, the walls of the mountains disappeared into the darkness and the sounds of bats could be clearly heard, the flaps of their wings floating down to them.
From the opening, a wide stone bridge led to a circular center and three more came from
other directions, and the man seen that it was shaped in a crucifix like the one he wore around his neck. As they traveled across the bridge they were on, the doorkeeper explained that all the bridges were possible escape measures, if the mountain was ever attacked, which made sense. He couldn’t help but look over the side of the bridge into the gap darkness that mirrored above. He wondered how someone could build something so complex and vast but he knew that the Vatican was resourceful, if anything. Hundreds of candelabras made most of the chamber luminous.
Waiting for them were a circle of high stone chairs that represented the power, might, and the humble wisdom of their order. Only three men occupied three of the five chairs and the elder felt a momentary sadness that one of the seats would not be taken tonight, and he offered up a prayer for the soul that was surely being embraced by the heavens themselves while the angels smiled. After taking his seat, his guide and official doorkeeper bowed to the circle before turning back the way they came and soon vanished from sight.
“Brothers, our circle is complete,” declared their chairmen who was bald with tiny dark botches from an ongoing skin disease. His face was well wrinkled with cheeks that drooped a bit, given him an old Saint Bernard look. He was also the oldest member at seventy-nine and the only one wearing the scarlet robe with white crucifixes on a black scarf that was draped around his neck. Painfully, he got to his feet with the aid of a cane, but his eyes were clear and glowing in the light of the many candelabras that were spread around the chamber.
“Even with the loss of one of our own, the church moves on undulantingly against enemies seen and unseen as some have finally shown their blackened souls. Under the eyes of heaven, our order is blessed and accepted by all that are righteous.”
He sat back down with an audible sigh of relief, it was well known that his body ached and was frail.
“It is my understanding that our message has been sent and received?” asked the elder to the chairman’s right. He was the newly promoted Cardinal of the church.