“That was a stupid thing to do,” the woman snapped angrily, but an instant later she smiled. “It matters not who my foe is, though. So long as they live in this world of ours, they must carry someone in their heart they are unable to deny.” Chuckling to herself, she added, “And having such a person, they are no match for the power of ‘Samon of Remembrances.’ Actually, I see this woman has chosen a man to beckon her. Tell me, woman—what is that bead?”
“I really don’t know, Wu-Lin,” Su-In replied. She saw only the form of her younger sister. However, that wasn’t what Samon had just said. She’d said Su-In had conjured up a man. At Su-In’s reply, Samon tilted her head quizzically. “You called me Wu-Lin . . . and you’re not lying. You couldn’t be lying. So, I guess you don’t know then, do you? Are there any other beads?” she asked the woman.
“No.”
“Who knows what the bead really is?”
“No one. No one else in the village even knows it exists.”
“Is that a fact?” Samon said, grinning smugly. Wu-Lin smiled as well. “In that case, once I acquire the bead, there’ll be no further need for me to remain here. At any rate, I shall use you as bait to get the bead from that stripling Hunter, following which I’ll dispose of the both of you. Come!”
Beckoned by her younger sister, Su-In tottered unsteadily toward Samon. Her expression, mired in nostalgia, changed suddenly. Plowing through the haziness of awakening from a dream, memory and reason flooded back into her face.
Samon bugged her eyes. Her spell hadn’t failed. And no other external physical phenomenon was responsible either. Nevertheless, it was perfectly clear this woman had emerged from Samon’s spell of nostalgia.
Rooted for only a second, Su-In could tell at a glance Samon was her foe, and she then quickly retreated to the stone stairs that led to the temple.
“Who are you?!”
Ignoring the woman’s cry, Samon raced closer and tried to grab hold of Su-In’s hand. Though she didn’t think there was any problem with her power, it was also difficult for her to believe there might be some foe lurking nearby. No sooner did Samon realize Su-In’s other hand had come down on the hand grabbing the woman’s arm than the sorceress found herself sailing through the air. Astonishment ruined her landing—after turning a somersault, she still landed on her rear.
“Where did you learn that trick?!” Samon snarled, exposing her teeth.
Just then, she heard a calm and scholarly voice in her ear say, Leave now. And go throw yourself off a cliff somewhere, so you can meet a glorious end. The deep blue sea would be a perfect grave for you. Go now . . .
Samon would’ve told herself how ridiculous that was, but her will was rapidly fading. Peace and subservience flooding her heart, the beautiful but wicked warrior easily acquiesced.
The other woman was suddenly stripped of her overwhelming lust for killing and walked off between the trees, but Su-In didn’t follow her. Though she sensed she shouldn’t take the woman’s power too lightly, there was also a deep echo that’d resonated through Su-In’s heart at the same time the other woman had turned her back to her.
Don’t move, the voice bade her. Stay just where you are. And listen to me well. Who has the bead?
D does, Su-In responded, also solely in her mind.
That’s right. I heard that, too. This man named D is in possession of your family’s precious bead. Now, is that for the best? He’s a complete stranger to you, a drifter and a dhampir. He’s in league with the Nobility. Do you really think your prized possession is safe with such a man?
He’s not like that, Su-In said, refuting the remark with all her might.
Somewhere in the universe, someone seemed very surprised.
How strong your conviction! It would seem you’ve given serious thought to the matter. However, in our youth, everything appears as bright as the sun. Even a figure from the world of darkness. If you would, listen to me well now. And then think. Decide if my words to you aren’t the truth, and your own might not merely be prejudiced.
In reality, not a full second had passed since the first word had entered Su-In’s head. The words came to her as a mass of condensed information.
After a few more seconds, a gorgeous figure in black raced up the stone steps.
“D?!” Su-In cried, totally forgetting herself as she clung to his powerful chest. But then she pulled back again as if she’d bounced right off him.
“Are you okay?” D asked tersely.
“Yeah. But wait till you hear this.”
Su-In then went on to tell the Hunter all about Samon using an illusion of her sister, as well as about the voice in her head. “I don’t know why, but the voice was trying to talk me into taking the bead from you. You suppose that woman has managed to get away by now, too?”
“Probably.”
“This is beginning to scare me.”
“Why don’t you just give them the bead then?” D suggested.
“Like hell I will! I dare you to say that again. I’ll slap you silly if you ever do.”
Saying nothing, D gazed into the woman’s eyes.
“But how did you know to find me here?”
“You’re better off not knowing.”
“Loose lips sink ships, eh? You’re sharp, all right,” Su-In said, stroking her hair. “It looks like that bead’s really valuable, wouldn’t you say?”
“So it would seem.”
“Well, that just makes me all the more reluctant to let them have it, then,” Su-In said with a smile. It was a fearless grin. Such a look normally would’ve only suited a man’s face, but it fit her perfectly now.
The two of them started down the stone steps.
After the pair had disappeared around a corner, an old man whose face was overrun by a beard as white as snow appeared from behind a pillar opposite the gate where Samon had first showed herself. Had he been perusing some heavy tome, he’d have been the very picture of a man of letters, but an air of menace unthinkable from a simple scholar hung all about his cloaked form.
“I’ve been in town for two days now. So, we meet at last, do we?” Professor Krolock muttered, sounding like he’d finally solved some equation after endlessly wracking his brain. His eyes dropped to the two parchments he gripped in his right hand. Limned in jagged lines, the face of one was no more than a rough sketch—a good rank below the one he’d done of Wu-Lin before—but despite its hasty nature, it definitely captured her character well. “With that first woman, I only had a rough sketch to persuade, but I suppose it should have the desired effect. But the other woman will require a little more effort, I believe. And you, D! I already have one for you in my possession. We shall soon see exactly how long your dhampir blood can fight my powers of persuasion.”
—
After the sun went down, the roar of the surf suddenly grew much closer. Even at Su-In’s home, where the footsteps of those busy preparing for the wake never died down, the sea sounded bleak and forlorn.
D was in the barn. The remains of Su-In’s grandfather were being kept out there, coffin and all. There was no shortage of demons looking to invade a body whose soul had departed. To prevent them from doing so, corpses would be washed and purified with salt water, and their veins would be filled with spring water. The only other preparations consisted of having the mortal remains spend the night in the barn, which now had protective wards against demons posted in sixteen different spots. The people who’d found the body had done the salt water purification ceremony, while the doctor had injected the spring water. The head monk from the local temple would’ve ordinarily traced a circle around the barn to keep evil spirits at bay, but he wasn’t around at the moment as he’d been called away by a major disaster in a nearby fishing village. Fortunately, a traveling holy man who was staying at the village inn was convinced to do the final part. The reason D was now stationed there was because, even after every possible precaution had been taken, there were still some entities that needed only the tiniest opening to sl
ip into someone else’s flesh.
Su-In was in the main house, busy with preparations for the wake. Visitors would be coming by to pay their respects to the deceased after midnight. It was 9:00 Night now.
The footsteps that sounded outside the barn had reached D’s ears from a long way off. Shortly thereafter, there was a knock at the sliding door and one of the neighborhood women who was helping out poked her head in. Flushing crimson, she told the Hunter he had a visitor. “He’s fiftyish and has a bushy beard. He’s toting around an iron staff. Says he’s got something to tell you.”
“Get someone to take my place here.”
With these words, D left the barn.
The night was staggeringly dark. There was no moon or stars—only the voice of the tides could be heard, singing about the sea.
Not entering the main house, the Hunter instead circled around to the front door.
A bored-looking man stood under the eaves. He looked more like a messenger who’d come to deliver some news than someone who’d come to pick a fight. Not only was there no lust for killing about him, but the way his towering frame was stooped over and peering in through one of the windows was almost comical.
“You have business with me?” D called out from beside him.
Turning around in surprise, the man had a sparkle in his eyes. The light by the front door painted gleaming highlights on the bushy black growth that covered his face from the nose down.
Suddenly drawing himself up, the giant of a man said in an unexpectedly dignified tone, “Nice to meet you. I’m ‘King Egbert.’ I’m one of the five that find themselves in Gilligan’s service. At the moment, I’m working on my own. Two of the others have already had the pleasure of meeting you, haven’t they?”
Here the man held his tongue to see D’s reaction, but the utter lack of response left him off-balance. Coughing, he added, “I’m not real big on subterfuge, you know. If we’re to fight, I want to do it fair and square. Though if you were to just give me the bead, we could end this without even doing that.”
“Where should we do this?”
The curt and cold nature of D’s reply left Egbert flabbergasted. “You mean to tell me we can’t talk this over?” he asked as he stroked his impressive beard.
“If it’s the bead you’re after, we won’t give it to you.”
“Hmm. Then I guess you’re going to force my hand. That’s a pity.”
The real question was why the man had said it was a pity. Could he sense D’s true power, or was he referring instead to the good looks the Hunter stood to lose?
Shifting the seven-foot-long iron staff he had under his left arm to his right hand instead, the man said, “Well, would you step over there with me? After all, I don’t want to spoil the funeral by getting blood all over the place.”
“It was one of your friends who killed him,” D said icily.
Indignantly Egbert shot back, “You’d better watch your mouth. I don’t rely on anyone but myself. There’s nothing I loathe more than taking on co-conspirators. What he did has nothing to do with me.”
“Maybe in theory.”
“At any rate, we can do it over here,” the bearded man said as he left the property first and walked toward the seashore.
Crossing the street, he leapt off a stone embankment and landed on the sand ten feet below. The flashy way he landed, kicking sand up everywhere and looking like he was going to lose his balance, might’ve been a trick to lull his opponent into complacency. If it wasn’t, it didn’t seemly likely he would’ve been fit to work as a warrior or bodyguard.
Seeing D touch down softly, he groaned appreciatively, “You certainly are something, aren’t you? I could’ve extended my country from here all the way up to that house, but I figure there’s no need to show off.”
Walking another hundred feet toward where the surf lapped at the shore, Egbert then halted—only the waves made any appreciable sound. The water’s edge was less than thirty feet away. The darkness was like a heavy coat of lacquer, yet through that murk, D’s eyes could discern the enormous ring that encircled both Egbert and himself. Further scrutiny would reveal that strange bumps and hollows dotted its interior. These shapes were bits of tree branches artlessly stuck in the soft sand, rocks that’d been set there, and a long, thin ditch that looked to have been scooped out by someone’s fingers.
“Think this is strange?” Egbert asked as he rested the iron staff against his shoulder. Although his tone was solemn, the gap between that and his easy manner would’ve been enough to make the average person tilt his or her head in puzzlement. “This is my kingdom. All of it is mine to command. I could make it larger if I liked, but it’d take some time to bring it under my control. Well, I suppose this is a reasonable size. But before we do anything—” Egbert began as if something had just occurred to him, then he took a dozen steps that brought him outside the closest edge of the ring. “Come with me. Let’s try this outside my country.”
D stepped out of the circle, too.
Upon leaving about ten feet between them, the opponents squared off.
Letting out a breath, Egbert locked the iron staff under his arm. He never dropped his guard for a second. As warriors went, he was first-rate.
First-rate—the term had a hollow ring to it when you were face-to-face with D.
A blur of black as he went for the sheath on his back, D drew his weapon, too. The tip of his sword was low, stopping just shy of touching the sand. Though it was almost impossible for most swordsmen to bisect their opponent when bringing the blade up from such a low position, it was even more difficult for a foe to parry it.
“So after I win I guess I get the bead, but where should I look for it?”
D replied to this impudent remark by extending his left hand. His fist opened.
Seeing what lay in it, Egbert nodded. “Okay—let’s do this!”
The sand that covered one of Egbert’s feet started to rise. Feinting a charge, he stopped cold as a stone statue.
D had become darkness itself, and an unearthly aura gusted from the tip of his blade.
The man’s innards chilled, his muscles and nerves shrank back.
“Vampire Hunter D . . .” Egbert said, his frozen tongue moving as if in a dream. “I finally realize the full weight that name carries. I don’t care how tough a Noble might be . . . it wouldn’t mean squat up against you . . .” Just as his hoarse groan dwindled, his iron staff lashed out.
Though he hadn’t seen D move, the instant Egbert felt his blow parried, he made a horizontal sweep with his staff. There was a sound of otherworldly beauty, and sparks shot out. Knowing simply from the vibrations transmitted to the palm of his clenched hand that the tip of his staff had been severed, he truly was a first-rate combatant.
A flash of black mowed without hesitation through Egbert’s neck. Or more precisely, where his neck had been. Coincidences like this were one in a million. Egbert had avoided D’s deadly slash by falling flat on the ground. Although totally involuntary, the move had saved him by a hairsbreadth. But as proof that he was indeed a warrior, Egbert hurled the staff he held at D before the Hunter could bring another blow down on him, then threw himself into the circle.
D wasn’t the sort to just let a fleeing foe escape. Easily dodging the iron staff, he entered the circle at the very moment Egbert got to his feet. Once more the Hunter’s blade sped toward his opponent’s torso. Something flashed up into D’s field of view, and then there was the thunk! of his blade hacking into something hard. A few seconds later, it fell over, raining leaves and branches on the ground. It was a tree trunk, seven feet tall and eight inches thick. It had delayed D’s blade a second and saved Egbert’s life. And it had suddenly appeared where there’d been nothing before. But no, D alone saw that wasn’t entirely the case—he’d clearly seen it growing up out of the ground. Growing from a little piece of branch.
As D tried to pursue the fleeing Egbert, three trees sprang up in rapid succession, clustered tightly together
right in front of the Hunter. Slashing right through them, D slipped between the trunks of what were clearly genuine trees before they’d even fallen over. He was greeted by Egbert, who stood ready with another iron staff he’d obviously kept buried in the sand.
—
II
—
D’s eyes were infused with an eerie light—he’d just realized the unbelievable changes that had come over both Egbert and himself.
Egbert seemed swollen to twice his normal size—not in corporeal terms, but so far as the confidence and power his physique exuded. As if to prove that was no trick of the mind, he cried, “Take that!” and made a thrust with his staff that was ten times faster than before.
Although D did an excellent job of parrying the blow, he reeled from it, knocked off-balance. His sword was heavy. So was his body. It was so strange, as if his flesh had suddenly turned to lead, or gravity itself had been changed.
“How do you like that, Vampire Hunter?” Egbert said, his tone just as dignified as before. But as he held the staff rock steady, the intensity of the killing lust that radiated from the end of it was beyond comparison to when he’d first challenged D.
Without warning, the end of the staff vanished. Feeling the force of the wind as the weapon shot up from below toward his left temple, D didn’t back away, but moved forward instead.
Contact! There was the crack of what could only be a bone snapping. But that sound was joined by a cry of astonishment.
If nothing else, the act had been reckless. D’s left wrist had stopped the iron staff as it ripped through the air, and through the opening left by Egbert’s surprise the Hunter had stabbed the other man in the left side of his chest. The giant reeled back without a word, bright blood gushing from him as the sword came out.
Upon realizing that the thrust that should’ve gone through his foe’s heart had missed the vital point, D was about to advance when suddenly the ground at his feet gave way. A second later his body was knee-deep in the sand, but only for an instant before the hem of his coat spread like wings and he took to the air.
Mysterious Journey to the North Sea, Part 1 Page 12