Vampire Hunter D Volume 18- Fortress of the Elder God (6 page)

Bierce said nothing.

“Because they thought you were a warrior. And that you’d be a lifeline, there to save them if they needed you.”

The old woman had leaned on Maria’s shoulder, and the boy had ridden on Jan’s back. Even though Bierce had to be tougher than any of them, he hadn’t been asked to help.

“Sorry. Their lifeline is a piece of junk,” Bierce said in a self-deprecating manner. “When they wake up, I’ll carry the kid.”

“If you call yourself a warrior, you’ve got better things to do.”

When D said this, Bierce leapt to his feet.

“Finally time for the real deal?”

Slinging the quiver of arrows that rested by his right arm across his back, he put his longsword on his hip. His movements were quick, without the slightest pause.

In the meantime, D woke those who were sleeping. It wasn’t clear just how he did it; he merely had to lay one hand on the shoulder of each and they were wide awake.

“What is it?” the transport officer asked.

“The enemy. Take cover behind that rock.”

As soon as D spoke, the officer raced over to the suckling and coiled the rope that had been tied to a rock around his hand instead.

On seeing Bierce with iron arrows between the fingers of his right hand, Jan shuddered. It was fighter’s nerves.

“So, the fuckers are coming? I want a piece of ’em, too,” the mobster said, tucking his broadsword through his belt.

“The enemy numbers five,” Bierce said. His eyes were closed. He must’ve listened for their footsteps.

“I’ll take them.”

Everyone’s eyes focused on a spot where nothing but those words remained. D was already headed for the water’s edge. Without hesitating, he stepped into the depths. Knowing that running water was the nemesis of those with Noble blood, Bierce got a gleam in his eyes.

Though fairly swift, the current didn’t budge the Hunter an inch as he went out into the middle and turned upstream. The water rose to his waist.

Out of the fog and darkness, five figures came gliding across the water’s surface. They halted five yards from D. Apparently they, too, were unaffected by the current. This was thanks to the gold disks their boots rested on. About a foot in diameter, they allowed their rider to move like a whirligig beetle, and as they now demonstrated, they also gave a person total control even in the fiercest current. The five halted only for an instant, and then glided across the water’s surface to form a ring around D. All of them wore golden armor and helmets. Four were armed with long spears, while the fifth held a laser gun.

“So, someone to play with after all this time?” the armored figure facing D said with relish. His golden cape swayed in the night breeze. “I’m sure you must know what this place is—so you’re either very unlucky or very stupid.” Staring at the people by the shore, he said, “There are a few more over there, I see. We’ll have to round them up and get them to join us in some mermaid hunting. Like so!”

From a pouch at the waist of his armor he pulled out something like a minnow and threw the thrashing little thing into the water. Suddenly it became a giant, six-foot-long fish that tried to swim away. A stark flash of light from his armored right hand tied him and the water together. Perhaps D alone saw the thrust he’d made with ungodly speed. Kicking up a tremendous spray, the gigantic fish and the long spear that pierced it were raised high.

“It hurts! It hurts so much!” said a human voice.

Maria and Mrs. Stow screamed. But they hadn’t seen the worst. As the armored figure turned the fish toward them with a little chuckle, they saw the face of a human girl writhing in the throes of death.

Raising the twitching body high, the armored figure laughed, “This is what we mean by ‘mermaid hunting.’ There’s ‘were-tiger hunting,’ as well. Tigers or fish—which will it be?” His laughter swelled into something louder and more malevolent.

But then another voice rang out, soft yet strong and cold, saying, “I know something else, too.”

The figure’s laughter stopped dead.

“What?”

“This.”

At that moment, the gorgeous figure in black pounced. Perhaps it was his beauty that mesmerized the armored man.

When a blade whizzed down and sliced through their compatriot’s helm, cleaving him down to the ribs, the others became masses of murderous intent and leveled their spears. The laser marksman who’d dropped back a pace raised his weapon to his shoulder. A crimson arrow penetrated his throat, going in through the left side and jabbing out from the right.

Not even glancing at their companion as he fell, the remaining three squared off against D, blasting rays of blistering heat into the sky all the while. They knew there was no way they could defeat their opponent if they flew off the handle. The way they adjusted their stance and lowered their center of gravity as they readied their spears was so skillful and precise, it left Bierce paralyzed as he prepared to loose a second arrow.

D sank down. His blade was horizontal, at eye level, the tip pointed ever so slightly down as the flowing water hid him up to the elbow. The stark blade then vanished from the trio’s view. As did the Hunter.

The four attackers halted in the river like four stones in human form.

Jan coughed, and Maria held Toto tight. Even the suckling was frozen.

The figure that came flying at the Hunter with fog trailing behind him was the opponent who’d been behind D and to his left. As it flew through the air, his spear was every bit as swift as the first man’s had been. The water parted by D’s hand. A sword blade appeared and batted away the long spear, then limned an arc overhead, following which the body of D’s foe hit the water some ten feet away, split open from the crotch all the way to the right lung as it sank. But before it did, the weapons with which the remaining two struck—one from behind the Hunter and to the right, the other head on—were easily knocked away, and as the attackers were left off balance, flashes of light ruthlessly carved through their chests.

Changing the spot where he stood ever so slightly, the young man was still poised for action, while behind him, five black streaks flowed away.

Sheathing his daunting blade without wiping it or flicking it clean, D climbed out of the water, where he was greeted not by cheers, but by a deathly silence. His battle, which was beyond human ken, had left the others chilled—but that wasn’t what their eyes or their faces said. They had seen D as he really was.

He told the people who were dazedly staring at him, “There’s no way to be certain more won’t be coming. We’re leaving.”

“That’s crazy!” Jan shouted in protest, pointing to the aged couple. “Look at them! Those two can’t make it another step. I’m beat, and so is everyone else. Before those clowns’ friends could get us, we’d die of fatigue.”

“He’s right,” Bierce said in the mobster’s support. “And it’s ten times harder walking at night than it is by day. Even if we carry the old folks and the kid, it’ll really slow us down.”

“I want the men to come with me.”

With this odd remark, D walked toward the cliff. Following him without a clue what was going on, Jan gasped. There was a small patch of cylindrical plants about six feet tall growing beneath the cliff.

“What, you thinking about making a raft?” Jan said, his eyes going wide. “These trees will float all right, but they’re so hard you couldn’t cut into ’em with an ax. Not that we even have an ax in the first place.”

Arms extended, he was shrugging his shoulders when a stark white flash blazed before him.

“Huh?”

There was just a single flash—and without a backward glance at the cylindrical stalks hitting the ground, D headed off toward the next source of building materials.

FORTRESS OF DEATH

CHAPTER 3

-

I

-

The raft was assembled in about two hours—basically, it was all D’s show. For plants that were supposedly buoyant they were strangely heavy, and while Jan and Weizmann together could barely move one, D lifted them easily with one hand and bound them together with the extremely fine wire he carried. Bierce tried to squeeze a finger into the space between the cylindrical logs, but they wouldn’t budge an inch, and when he tried the same with an arrowhead, he couldn’t get it in even a millimeter.

“Talk about strength,” the experienced warrior said, clucking his tongue with amazement.

Everyone carried the raft over to the river and climbed aboard. D then cut the wire tied to a rock on shore, and the raft glided away.

A heavy anxiety clung to all of them. Perhaps realizing as much, Jan asked, “Say, Mr. D, what were those things in the armor earlier?”

“Illusions of the Nobility.”

Everyone turned in his direction.

“Illusions? You hacked them up, and they bled and everything!”

“Illusions can bleed, too. If they’re Nobles.”

“But no one’s heard any talk of them still being in this area for thousands of years.”

“That’s why he said they’re illusions,” Bierce interjected. “From what I hear, this whole area used to be a playground for the Nobility. They altered human beings in all sorts of ways and had fun hunting them. Did their god tell ’em to do it? Or was it just some new form of human sacrifice?”

The warrior’s last two questions were directed at D.

There was no reply. Like a gorgeous darkness, the young man stood still in the center of the raft, becoming one with the night.

An hour passed without incident. All of them had begun to think that perhaps they could keep drifting like that all the way to a safe place. Toto and the aged couple dropped off to sleep.

D suddenly shifted his eyes from side to side.

“What is it?” Bierce inquired. He was the only other one awake.

“They’re coming from both sides. At least twenty riders on either bank.”

Though Bierce strained to hear, only the sound of the wind struck his eardrums. However, if that was what the dashing young man before him said, it had to be true.

“For all your skill with a blade, you can’t reach the shore from here,” the warrior said, a confident smile splitting his bearded face. “I still can’t see our enemy or hear their mounts, but I want you to leave ’em to me.”

-

It was about five minutes later that the echoes of iron-shod hooves rang out. Unlike their earlier opponents, these men wore black capes and galloped on dark steeds. Each and every figure was outlined in pale blue flames. The men’s hair was ablaze, as were the manes and fetlocks of their mounts.

Perhaps they heard the thunder of those hoofbeats, or maybe they sensed the danger, but everyone on the raft woke up—and D walked over to one side. Spotting the horses and riders now running even with the raft, Jan got to his feet with a look of excitement on his face.

“So, those fuckers have come after us again—well, just tell me what to do!” the mobster said, his hand reaching for his broadsword.

“Just one thing,” D said.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Duck.”

“Huh?”

D kicked the man’s shin. Tumbling backward with a cry, Jan grabbed his leg while shouting, “What the hell did you do that >for?”

His scream was punctured by something whistling through the wind. Looking at it, Jan gasped. An arrow shrouded in blue flames had halted in midair. D’s hand was wrapped around it.

Blue arrows rained down on the raft from all sides.

“Stay down.”

Saying only this, D walked across the tiny craft without making a sound. His right hand flashed into action. A lone sword was all he had—but each time it moved, every approaching arrow fell.

“That’s a hell of a thing,” Bierce groaned in admiration.

“I’ll say. He’s cutting them all down!”

“No, only the ones that would’ve hit someone.”

“What?” the mobster exclaimed.

“That’s what’s so incredible. Follow his lead.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I couldn’t manage that for the life of me.”

“Then how about this?”

After batting away two incoming arrows with the crimson arrows in his hands, Bierce raised them up so they crossed over his head. His eyes were closed.