A Demon's Wrath Novella: One Night with the Demon King (5 page)

“Come this way. The ship’s not far,” he
said, leading her through the massive crowd.

He took her for a great long walk, away from
the main port, until there was no noise of any kind made by human,
except for the waves of the ocean water lapping onto shore. Then
she saw a ship. It was small, very easily hidden in the dark and
behind cliffs or cave. As she came closer, she saw men at work.
They were in the process of packing and setting sail.

Upon the deck, she gave the man her promised
five gold coins. He grabbed the currency greedily and showed her to
her cabin. As she was about to enter, she saw a man with a thick
dark beard and piercing blue eyes staring at her. He was big and
tall.
What a menacing-looking man,
she thought and then
shivered.

“How long will it take to get to the
island?” she asked, turning away from the imposing stare.

“Three days,” came the quick reply.

Cecelia dreaded the thought of spending that
many number of days in the company of these men. She considered
changing her plan.

“We travel light and fast. No time to
waste,” he said and left her before she could ask for her gold back
and run off the ship.

At dinner, she ate some cheese and bread and
then went to bed, not wanting to go outside, for she did not want
to bump into any of them. After all, she told herself, she only
wanted to get to the Demon Kingdom. She didn’t need to make friends
with these men.

The rocking of the boat woke her in the
middle of the night. She was thirsty.
Surely,
she thought,
the men will all be asleep by now.
She wouldn’t meet any of
them. She left the room then to find fresh water.

All was in silence as she made her way
through the claustrophobic corridor. She was lost for a moment in
the darkness. She looked from one end to the other. Then she saw
one door slightly ajar at the very end. She went toward it and
looked in.

It was dark, though the hint of light from
the moonlight shining through the window showed her there were
stairs leading downward. The storeroom would be down there, and
water, she was sure, would be there too.

She carefully made her way down. Once she
landed at the bottom step, she stood for a moment to get used to
the darkness.

“
No!”

Cecelia looked around. Her heart kicked in
her chest. A cry, as though a child were whimpering for help. She
scanned about her and made her way toward where the sound had come
from. She found herself confronting a thick old door. The cry of
the child was louder. She felt her heart burn in reaction.

Thud, thud, thud…

The whimpering was getting louder. Finding
she couldn’t contain herself any longer, she opened the door, and
to her horror, witnessed the most disgusting sight she’d ever
beheld.

One of the men was whipping a boy no more
than five years of age. So disgusted she was that without thought,
she rushed to the man, grabbed him by the arm, and smashed her fist
onto his face. The man fell against the wall, his lips bleeding
from the attack.

He staggered up and stared at her. His eyes
were wild. He sneered and shouted, “Out of me way!”

Cecelia knew a madman when she saw one. She
cursed herself for not bringing her smallsword with her. However,
if things did get out of hand, she still had her dagger.

“Don’t you come near!” she shouted back,
moving to stand in front of the boy.

“Ye defend that demon, ye traitor,” he
shouted.

Cecelia glanced at the boy behind her.

A demon? But how could that be?

The boy was no different from human. This
man was so demented that he needed to be locked away for the safety
of others.

“You’re mad!” she said. “May God have mercy
on your soul.” She spit. Dismissing him, she turned her attention
to the boy, lifting him. “Are you all right?”

“Traitor!” the man screamed and started
whipping her with his strap. It slashed on her back, and Cecelia
winced. She gritted her teeth and twisted to glare at the man. She
jumped up, swiftly and expertly withdrew her dagger from her belt,
and swung it across his wrist in one smooth motion. Blood spurted.
The man screamed, dropping his strap to the ground.

“Me arm!” he shrieked.

Cecelia inserted the dagger back in her
belt, rushed to help the boy up, and they ran to the door.

They were climbing the stairs when the
thudding of footsteps reached their ears.

“Who goes there?”

Cecelia felt cold sweat settling on her
body. She tried to drag the boy toward the top of the stairs. Just
one more step, but the boy was quite heavy for a five-year-old.
Once they were at the door, she saw the men appearing before them
on the landing. She sighed with relief.

“Quick, that man, he’s mad,” she said
breathlessly.

“Traitor!” the man from below shouted.

“Quick, seize him. He was beating this
boy.”

When they simply looked at one another, as
if they didn’t quite know what to do, she frowned at them for their
lack of haste to help.

Finally, she saw the leader, Captain Jeremy
Jackson, the one who had been staring at her that first day she
climbed on the ship. He nodded in command. A man behind him came to
her and grabbed the boy from her arms. The other seized her none
too gently. Suddenly, Cecelia felt a coldness deep within her
stomach.

“Lock them up and don’t let them get away,”
Jackson snapped.

Cecelia widened her eyes. A sickening
feeling lurched within her, and she wanted to vomit.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice a
mere whisper.

“Don’t let him get away. He’s too precious,”
Jackson said. He finally turned to her and glared at her with his
malice-filled eyes. “I was hoping ye wouldn’t get involved,
boy.”

Cecelia swallowed. She stared at the four
men looking at her, their eyes dark.

What are they planning to do to us? More
importantly, can I fight with all these men and escape with the
boy?

She did some calculation in her head and
found it was better to do what they wanted, because the boy, as she
glanced at him, was tired and weak after the beating. Besides,
where could they run off to in this small ship and the vast
sea?

Cecelia heard groaning from behind her. She
shifted and saw the mad man appearing from below the stairs.

“And you!” Jackson shouted. “I told you not
to beat him.”

There was a low grunt and then, “But,
master, he’s a demon.” He stared at Cecelia, his shaking hand was
covering his bleeding wrist. “And that bastard, he cut me deep,
master.”

Jackson turned to Cecelia. “Ye,” he growled,
“ye know our plan. Ye won’t be leaving ‘ere alive. I’ll have to
kill ye now.” He drew out his sword.

Cecelia stared at the sharp blade pointing
at her.
Good Lord,
she thought,
this is the end of it,
and I haven’t even reached the Demon Kingdom yet.

Jackson moved the blade toward her. Cecelia
hands reached for her dagger. She was ready to draw it out as
Jeremy thrust the blade forward.

“Captain! The ghost birds, they are
everywhere!” a man shouted from the door.

At this point, the blade halted near her
neck and Cecelia’s dagger was halfway out of her belt.

“What?” Jackson shouted and twisted around.
“Out with all the lights. Don’t let them see us,” he shouted. Then
he turned his attention to Cecelia. “And, ye two, take them to the
prison below,” he ordered as he rushed off toward the deck.

The men hustled off in every direction,
blowing out candles in all the cabins and the torches in their
hands. The corridor was suddenly almost in total darkness except
for the small, flickering lit candle in a man’s hand, coming toward
them.

He said, “Down ye two go,” as he pointed a
sharp blade at them. “That’s right. Don’t ye struggle, demon, or
this sword will cut ye alive.” And then he laughed as though he
really liked the sound of that.

Cecelia stared at him and really would like
to give a hard knock to his leering face.

“You too, boy, down you go,” he said,
shoving the sword’s pointy end at her throat.

Gritting her teeth, she turned and walked
back down the stairs, her arms around the limping boy. They were
shoved into the wooden prison. The boy fell, and Cecelia quickly
rushed to aid him. Once she got him lying down on the ground with
his head resting on her lap, she looked up to see the man locking
them up.

“Ye won’t live after we deal with the ghost
birds,” he said, looking at her as he tested the locked door.
“It’ll be a pleasure killing ye.” He laughed as he left them.

Cecelia turned to look at the boy. She saw
his young face paled with fatigue.

“Were you kidnapped?” she asked as she
stroked his blond hair.

The boy had his eyes shut. She heard his
deep breathing and thought he was asleep. So she gave up waiting
for his answer and closed her eyes as well.

“Aye.”

She flashed her eyes open and noted that he
was watching her. She was surprised his voice was still strong
after the beating.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m awfully sore before, but I’m better
now.”

She knew he was lying. No one could feel
better that quickly after such a severe beating. But she said
nothing.

“Do you miss your family?” she asked as a
way to keep his mind away from the pain. She knew it worked when
she thought of her loving family.

Once, she had fallen off Snow, her mare, and
broken her ankle. The healer had made a potion for her to drink. It
had been so bitter that most of the times she had spat the
concoction back out. The healer had also bound her limb with a
thick green mixture. The pain at night had been unbearable, but her
mother had talked to her of her great ancestors on her mother’s
side, of how bravely they had fought in wars, of how they had
survived and were rewarded with an island called Rosevalley, of how
they had turned that barren island into green, lush vineyard and
farmland, and of how they had first built Rosevalley Castle with
their bare hands. Her mother had also told her of how she’d met her
father, a prince of the Dardania Kingdom, and of how they had
fallen in love at first sight.

“I missed Mama and Papa,” the boy said,
shifting his head so he lay more comfortably on her lap.

He was being very brave, Cecelia thought,
remembering of how vicious the man had whipped him.

“Do you have any brother or sister?” she
asked, thinking of Brian.

“No, but Mama promised to have more so I
won’t be alone.”

“What’s your name?”

“Lucifer,” the boy said, shifting his head
back again so he could look at her. “What’s your name?”

Cecelia thought for a moment. She didn’t
know whether to tell him her real name or not. “Brian,” she said
finally, using her brother’s name.

“You’re very brave for a human boy.”

Cecelia raised her brows at his statement.
“I am not a boy, Lucifer.”

“Really? I don’t believe you,” he said
firmly.

Cecelia smiled. “Think as you wish.”

Lucifer turned his face away again and
closed his eyes. “Papa and Uncle Drake and Uncle Gerick will save
us,” he said some moments later.

“I do not know if your papa knows where we
are,” Cecelia said, closing her eyes to get some rest.

“He knows.”

“Those ghost birds, what could they be?” she
said, wondering aloud.

“Ghost birds?”

Cecelia opened her eyes to look at him.

“They are birds that appear like
ghosts.”

Cecelia was good at imagination. A dead bird
was the picture that came to her mind, ones that could fly.
But
how could the men be afraid of some mere dead birds?
She
couldn’t imagine why. Then again, she reasoned with herself, she
was green to this outside world.

“Thank you,” Lucifer said suddenly.

“What for?” She blinked at the boy.

“Stopping the madman.”

Cecelia smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“When we get home, I will tell Papa and
Uncle Drake to thank you properly by giving you a big feast.”

“You must be very rich.”

“Aye, I live in a castle with Papa and Mama,
Uncle Drake and Uncle Gerick, and Leon, and ugh, Julius…”

Cecelia saw that he went quiet all of a
sudden. “That’s nice. They must love you very much, then,” she
said, wondering from what kingdom this boy came from. And why had
those men kidnapped him? Apparently, it must be for ransom. Lucifer
did say his family was rich. She wondered if he was royalty, like
herself.

“Aye,” the boy said proudly.

“I love my family, too,” Cecelia said,
thinking about her mother and dead father.

Lucifer turned to look at her again. “Why
are you so sad?”

Cecelia blinked. She didn’t know tears were
brewing in her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand
and said, “My mother is very sick. I must find the Pearl of Life to
save her.”

“What’s wrong with your mother?”

“She was poisoned.”

“Oh, that does sound bad,” Lucifer said.

She knew he didn’t understand anything about
poison or the pain she had within her heart right then. He was just
trying to help ease the hurt. But that was still kind of him.

“I was poisoned once,” Lucifer began, “with
the white tiger butterfly. It stung so bad, and I cried. Mama
kissed me so I wouldn’t feel the hurt. Usually I don’t like her
kissing me so hard cos it’s embarrassing in front of my friends.
But this time I like it. The witch made me a potion. It was so very
bitter. I didn’t like it much, but Uncle Drake said brave warriors
like to drink bitter potion, so I drank it anyway.”

“That’s nice,” Cecelia said. “What’s a white
tiger butterfly?”

He stared at her, his eyes large. “Don’t you
know anything?” he said.