Of Kings and Demons (10 page)

Calmly, he planted his
battleaxes, the head first, into the ground. Then he dug into his breast pocket
and pulled out his smoking pipe. Without turning his head at the pair of angry
Trolls, Maganus lit a match and placed it gently beneath the pipe. He found
himself a spot on a fallen branch nearby, sat on it, crossed his legs, and
inhaled with Olympian serenity.

He held his breath and rocked
himself gently as he gauged their distance from him. When they were about ten
yards away, Maganus blew hard. The trail of white smoke he exhaled magnified
and transmuted into a series of loops that flew over the Trolls.

The pair stopped as if they had
been paralyzed by the smoke. They shrank and mutated into tiny imps, no taller
than a foot, running around like frantic chickens.

The Guardian Angel stood up and
released a war cry of which the decibels blew the mini-Trolls into dust.
Maganus struck a pose of triumph by resting his hands at his waist.

“I am waiting, Ivan!”

The Count bit his lips.

“I take your silence as a
compliment,” Maganus joked as he inhaled his smoking pipe. “I guess I should
continue?” Maganus then pulled the battleaxes out of the ground. In a handsome
swerve, he aimed at the Count.

The Count raised his arms and a
shield of dark energy materialized around him. The furious projectile stopped,
but barely. Within a yard from the Count, and seeming to breathe life, the
battleaxes continued to rotate in a grinding motion, plowing forward with a
dominant force that drove the Count to his knees.

Maganus fired an angry huff
that broke Raum’s line of defence and sent the Count flying into the darkness
of trees, crushing a few trees in the process.  

“Ivan, you have underestimated
me,” Maganus murmured as he caught the returning battleaxes.

Within seconds, the Count rose
from the carnage and landed just yards from Maganus, his handsome face smeared
in dirt.

“Maganus, another day, perhaps,”
the Count said. He cranked his head and released a soul-shattering howl. He
stretched his wings, leathery and bony, to their full length. “Victory may go
to the Angels this time, but there will be retribution in due course.”

As Raum rose to the skies,
something darted from the woods, heading towards him. It was Pologus. However
the Count threw a ball of fire that hit the bird and sent it into a downward
spiral, but Maganus arrived in time to nestle his pet before it crashed.

Maganus looked up but Raum had
disappeared into the skies.

He checked the bird and found the
bird tearing at the corner of the eyes.  The wings are scorched on the edge.

“You were only inches away from
being a roasted chicken,” Maganus teased as Pologus released a whimper.

Maganus looked to the skies,
where the moon waxed in full power. The aura of evil was dissipating.

“There will always be a next
time,” Maganus whispered.

The Angel remembered the
children, but before he walked over, he murmured his prayers to hide his
battleaxes.

“What do you make of the
assassinations?” Robin said.

Walter Johnson shifted in his
seat and stared at the man.

“Unacceptable and
unbelievable.”

“What do you think the
President going to do?”

 “This administration is a
washout,” he complained as he reached for a glass of wine. “Hayes should not
have resigned in midterm, knowing the jackass Howard Cooper is.”

Walter was referring to the incumbent
President of the United States, who had taken over from his disgraced
predecessor, William Hayes. The forty-sixth president had resigned at midterm
after being slapped with an impeachment threat from the House of
Representatives over grave allegations of corruption by members of the First
Family.

Howard Cooper had only been a
two-term senator from Ohio before
he was picked as
the vice-presidential
candidate. With little foreign policy experience and no noteworthy domestic
successes, he did not have the political capital for the top job.

In his term, domestic crime had
spiraled out of control, and inflation near had soared ten percent. The
tower-high federal debt had crippled the growth of the economy. In addition,
Cooper had failed to hold himself against his assertive Russian and Chinese
counterparts and was termed ‘a national embarrassment’ by the press.

Robin said. “I’m quite sure Cooper
is not going for a second term.”

Johnson eyed Robin “Maybe the
spate of violence will make him thick twice..”

“He is placing the nation
Deacon 2. He should put it on 3 and get all agencies on high alert. Any attack
on political office holders cannot be taken lightly.”

“He is lost.”

“We cannot afford mediocrity in
the White House for another stinking second after Cooper is gone. We need
strong men in place and a forward-looking agenda.”

“Yes, Mr. President. Sure, we
will do that,” Robin teased.

“You are a rascal!” Walter said.
“You should stop joking.”

“Who just gave me a lesson
about doing justice to the high office?” Robin said, wide-eyed and then sipped
from his glass. He spit. “This is bad wine,” Robin said. “I should have brought
my own.”

Robin aimed to place his glass
on the table and missed. The glass fell and shattered.

“Look who is drunk,” Walter
joked but soon was rudely thrown off his chair like the earth beneath him had
shifted.

“Governor!” Robin sprung over
but four security agents had appeared on the portico.

Jake Wilson, head of the
security detail walked up to him.

“Jake?”

“I don’t know what’s going on,
Governor. We felt a tremor and thought we should get you into the house.”

“Is it a terrorist attack?”
Walter asked.

A sense of premonition gripped
him. Earlier reports of attacks leaders from all arenas streamed through his
mind.
Is it his turn now?

The ground shook again and the
earth in front of them exploded. Smoke filled the air and soil rained down on
the men.

Immediately, the bodyguards
formed a cordon around the governor, with Jake Wilson directly covering him. But
Walter nudged him aside for a better view of the site of the explosion. When
the smoke cleared, Walter and the others stood speechless, mouths agape.

A creature, iron grey in
complexion, had climbed out of a hole in the lawn. Standing at over six feet,
it was a gargantuan being with a hideous countenance. It drummed its chest as
its wings stretched to more than ten yards on each side and it unleashed a
deafening roar.

Walter looked at Robin. “You
didn’t arrange this, did you?”

Robin was incredulous. “It came
from the ground, not from my pocket.”

The security detail rained
their gunfire on the advancing threat. Their response infuriated the creature and
earned a defiant roar that rocked the neighborhood.

Jake herded Walter away who
grabbed a stunned Robin as well. “Come on, you old hag!” Walter cried.

They neared the governor’s
armoured vehicle, which was on the left side of the lawn.

Jake cried, “Get on, Governor!”

Walter however paused, his hand
locked onto Robin’s arm, distracted by the shattering shrills of the monster.
The security agents’ firepower had no visible impact as the monster continued
to stomp towards the Walter. Walter felt his heart in his throat when the winged
monster grabbed one of the agents and, with merciless ease, tore the human asunder
like he was a soft toy.

Then it advanced towards
Walter.

Jake reloaded his weapon and fired
again. The round hit the winged creature in the eye who drummed its chest in
fury. The respite allowed Walter to reach into his vehicle, but he did not get
in.

“What is wrong, Governor?” Robin
asked.

“Penelope. She is in the
house!”

“I will get her,” Jake yelled.

But Walter was racing back to
the house, the monster in keen pursuit as it flew over the security agents. The
beast unleashed a green light through its eye and turned three of the agents
into statues of stone.

The winged beast caught up with
Walter and landed with a tremor that sent the governor to the ground.

Walter tried to stand, but a stamp
from the monster sent him to the ground again. Walter summoned all his strength
and leapt to his feet. He felt strain in his thighs. However, he gritted his
teeth and faced up to the gigantic beast.

Time seemed to stop as assessed
the bloodshot eyes that burned rubies, the iron-grey complexion, the curvy ram horns
on each side of it head, and long and pointed ears. The nose looked as if
someone had given it a hard punch, his teeth shined like polished razor blades.

“Wadahell are you?” Walter
cried as he stiffened his back and tightened his stare. His fists dangling
tentatively as the creature stepped forth.

“Walter Johnson?” the beast
asked.

 “You can talk?” Walter was
stunned. His body quivered a little but he stood his ground, immobile more of
fear than dare of facing the eventual annihilation.

The creature had swung its
right arm back and appeared about to bring it down on Walter. Then it stopped.

“Thomas, you are warrior and
preacher rolled into one.” Maganus praised.

“You were magnificent Lord
Maganus. It was an eye-opener”

“I wish that came from Ivan
Raum.”

“You want to meet the siblings?”
Father Bellator mentioned.

Maganus nodded and moved
towards the siblings. He sensed prickly wariness in them and moderated his
strides. The tall and handsome boy and his smallish sister wore fear on their
faces. They looked as if they had been through a war.

“An introduction perhaps?”

It was the girl who spoke
first. “Your axes came and went just like magic.”

“That is magic to you, but it
actually is science to us. Anyway, science and magic are very, very similar.”

“Really?” Sarah said.

“Powers of the Angels are based
on the powers of all things good and found in Heavens. All powers we possessed
are actually science, God’s invention. Human inventions are interesting
permutations.”

“Unbelievable,” Sarah murmured.

“It is much easier to carry our
weapons that way. Imagine I travel with one hundred pounds of iron on my
shoulders? Even Hercules would complain!” Maganus chuckled, his beard rustling
with pride as he studied Mathew.

“Thank you for saving us,” the lad
spoke with his voice that was spent from some shouting. “How may I address you?

“I prefer just ‘Maganus’.”

“I am Mathew Springs. This is
my sister, Sarah.”

Maganus grinned, his cheeks emitting
a ruddy radiance. “Both of you have been through a tough patch, haven’t you?”
Maganus patted Mathew on his shoulder and Sarah on the head.

“Thank you,” Sarah whispered.

Maganus smiled.
Human beings
can be so sweet, sometimes. 

“Can I ask something, sir?”
Mathew raised his hand.

“Liberal with the questions and
you don’t have to raise hands.”

“You are an Angel?”

Maganus frowned as he pondered
the best answer to the question. And he realized he would need a good chat with
the siblings, and some food and drinks, by the fire.

*

Victor leaned back on his
armchair, rested his chin on his knuckles, and smiled, a well-dressed façade of
halcyon. His deliberate move was an act, and politics had provided him with the
best classroom to acquire such mastery.

Deep down in his chest, he fumed.
His anger kindled by a presumptuous Joe who gesticulated in his animated
monologue on potential solutions to resolve the Maxi Oil debacle. He suspected
his former associate and subordinate had come with a sinister agenda.

Victor was impatient with
deliberate deception which he felt it is plain lying. “I appreciate your help,
but I can sort out the issues on my own.”

“Half-a-billion is not a small
sum. With a few hundred million invested in securing concessions in Asia and
the Middle East, you do not have much in the kitty for any compensation, my
friend.”

Victor tightened his grip on
the sofa cushion but stayed silent..
How did Joe know such details?

Joe continued, eagerness
written on his paunchy face. “Victor, we are interested in forming a
partnership, a friendship. We can help you in Maxi Oil. All we ask for is an
association. No immediate favours.”

“Cut the chase, Joey.”

“Calm, calm, please, Victor. I
have so much respect for you that I pray you listen to our proposition.”

“Our? You are not acting
alone?”

Joe smiled. “A friend of mine,
I should say. I assure you, sir, that it will be worth your time meeting him.”

“You talk like a bloody devil,
Joe,” Victor said and noticed Joe’s eyes had turned towards to the entrance of
the room.

“What are you—” Victor stopped
mid-sentence when a tall figure walked through the door. The arrival was
well-dressed in corporate suit and a catchy red tie. His face was like a
sculptured statue, with squarish, strong jaws. The eyes were blue, with thick
and bushy eyebrows. His thick, sandy hair was swept back, revealing a high
forehead. His fair complexion suggested a Northern European origin. Despite the
suit, Victor could tell he had an athletic physique.

“Who is this gentleman?” Victor
demanded, voice frayed.

The man had extended his hands,
oblivious to Victor’s hostility.

“Mr. Senator,” Joe said. “May I
present Boris Komorov.”

Victor took the man’s proffered
hand with hesitation. He tried to avoid the man’s daunting blue eyes but found
the temptation irresistible and was immediately spellbound, sucked into a
vacuum. He tried to end the handshake but Komorov held firm. Victor shuddered
as Komorov flashed his pearly white teeth. Victor returned a curt smile. Deep
in his heart, he cursed Joe for setting up the meeting.