THE WRAITH KNIGHTS

CHAPTER 6

—

I

—

Blasko the smith stared intently at the gleaming blue tip of the lance—he’d just put it under a particle spectroscope for analysis. This was the very same weapon that had stopped the mob in its tracks a bit earlier.

“So you say you want a sword just like this, eh?” said the blacksmith, his consternation and diffidence quite apparent both in his voice and on his face. “What you’ve got here is molybdenum, chromium steel, an iron polymer, plus some synthetic substance I don’t have a clue about—and that’s the secret of its cutting strength. Come with me,” the man said to D.

They’d arrived straightaway after saving Elena, and less than thirty minutes had elapsed since the incident. The blacksmith was about to walk away, but he stumbled to the ground where he was—as he was taking the lance from the spectroscope, he’d completely forgotten about its weight. And though this oversight was caused by his desperate urge to escape D’s exquisite countenance, the smith would’ve died before admitting as much.

Walking over without a word, D effortlessly lifted the lance.

“That thing’s mind-boggling! It must weigh a hundred pounds or more. Something like that could stop a fire dragon, or even a kraken.”

Rubbing his left arm all the while, the blacksmith led D around to his backyard.

Needless to say, D had requested that Blasko craft a sword that could penetrate the knights’ armor. While the Hunter was skillful enough to deal each of them a fatal blow even with a lesser blade, his opponents were also superhuman. It was entirely possible they might parry his blow or make him miss a vital spot. And if his sword were to break every time that happened, even the great D would be left powerless.

“What do you think?” the smith said with pride as they surveyed his garden.

“My, oh, my!” a voice exclaimed behind him.

Seeming satisfied with the appreciative remark, the smith took another step or two before the hoarseness of that same voice struck him as peculiar and he turned around. Quickly shaking his head with a quizzical expression, he then coolly strutted out into the middle of the garden.

Blasko certainly had every reason to be proud of his yard. The grass and black soil were crowded with rows of stone sculptures and metal castings that certainly looked to be the work of the Nobility. A hero of antiquity with sword in hand, a giant cyclops, a mermaid strumming a lyre, a hundred-legged spider from the stratosphere, the wildly cavorting Pan playing his flute, and on and on—some of the statues were life-size, but others were more than thirty feet tall. Since some of those colossal pieces were busts, the blacksmith’s garden seemed more like an enchanted arbor that left his guests feeling like they’d stepped into some avant-garde art museum in the Capital. And scattered among the statues were Noble coffins that were undoubtedly the genuine article.

“I don’t suppose it matters much which we use. But how about we try this?” the smith said as he indicated a black globe that lay on the grass. It alone seemed to have nothing whatsoever to do with the world of art. The globe was approximately three feet in diameter, and there wasn’t a single gleam or reflection on it, as if it were merely sucking up all the sunlight that touched it.

“All of this is stuff I picked up from a merchant who specializes in garden ornaments from the Nobles’ ruins. Not that I sit around admiring them or anything,” Blasko added. “You see, they’re all here so I can test my handiwork on them.”

Now that he mentioned it, every statue was marked with deep gouges or fine cracks, and some of them even had parts sliced clean off.

“You can’t go wrong with the stuff the Nobility made,” the blacksmith continued. “It’s a hundred times tougher than the crummy armor and helms you run into, but even then, there hasn’t been anything my blades haven’t been able to cut. Except for that one sphere there, that is. Gave it holy hell with some of the Nobility’s weapons, too, but the results were the same. What I’d like to see is what the point of that lance can do. Would you give it here for a second?” he asked.

A true professional, Blasko was so well-braced as he took the lance from D’s hand that only the word “splendid” could do him justice. His lower body didn’t show the slightest danger of buckling under the load now.

“Take that!” he cried, putting more than enough resolve into a thrust at the center of the sphere.

But without so much as a spark the lance bounced off, and as the smith took a hard spill on his tail, the weapon came whistling down at him.

“Holy—,” Blasko groaned, but the tip of the lance stopped right before his painfully wide eyes.

Pulling the lance away with the same left hand that’d caught it, D eyed the sphere.

“From the way that felt, it’s no use. Don’t bother,” the smith said with a dismissive wave of his hands as he sat there on his rump. But when he saw how easily D held the weapon in his left hand, his face went pale.

Not seeming to make any real effort, D simply swept out with his hand.

The blacksmith stared incredulously at the sphere as the lance jutted from the heart of it. Looking at D, he asked, “Can you pull it out?”

After the Hunter easily drew it from the sphere, the smith ran his fingers almost lovingly over the tip. With a sullen face he said, “A hell of a thing, that is. I still doubt if I can even do this.”

“How many days to make a sword from it?” asked D.

“Three, working day and night.”

“Have it for me tomorrow night.”

“Good enough,” the blacksmith replied. “Not because I’m crazy about this weapon, but because I can’t get over your skill. I’ll craft it for you, but it’ll be no ordinary sword. What’s your name, anyway?”

“D,” the Hunter replied.

The blacksmith nodded. His eyes were sparkling.

“It’ll be an honor. I’ll get to go to my grave as the smith who forged D’s sword.”

—

It wasn’t long after that D returned to his camp in the ruins. Elena was leaning back against one of the stone columns. A bike was parked close-by. Seeing D, she raised one hand and said, “Hey there, stranger!”

Her other shoulder was wrapped in bandages.

“Go home,” D said curtly.

“No way. There’s no one there, and Stahl’s folks will just force their way in. When I went by earlier to pay my respects, they stabbed me,” the girl said, and as she lightly brushed her bandages, they darkened slightly with blood. “And it’s not like anyone else is much happier with me. But relax. I’m not gonna ask you to let me stay with you or anything stupid like that. The fact is, I came out here before I even knew what I was doing. But I’ll be going soon.”

Tethering his horse’s reins, D took a bundle off the animal’s back.

“What’s the story with those swords?” asked the girl.

“Our friends will be coming out again tonight. I can’t fight them without weapons.”

The Hunter had borrowed the swords from the blacksmith. Although he had ten in all, none of them would last more than a single blow.

“Hey, let me fight, too! Alongside you,” Elena said in a forceful tone.

“The only reason you’re still alive is because the Black Knight went easy on you.”

“I know that. That’s why I wanna fight with you. On my own, I couldn’t so much as scratch the Nobles’ armor. But with you, I think we could get something done. After all, if they don’t kill me, the folks in the village probably will. So if I’m gonna go out, I wanna at least hurt those bastards some.”

“You’re rather tenacious, aren’t you?” D remarked.

“You got that right. See, I’ve gotta pay them back for this,” Elena said, grabbing her shirt with both hands and pulling it wide open.

She didn’t have anything on underneath it. Below the ample curve of her breasts, a pair of deep red lines formed an “x” that covered her whole belly. The wounds had clearly been left by a sword.

“When I was five, that bitch attacked my house. And that’s when she got my father and mother, and my little brother and sister, though they didn’t really die until the next day, when the mayor hammered stakes into the four of them. The little ones were only two and four. The princess had the White Knight with her, and he carved this into me when I was about to jump her. She was laughing as she said she should leave at least one of us alive. Even now, I can’t get the sound of that voice out of my head. And as I’ve grown, the marks have only gotten larger. She told me she wanted me to remember what’d been done to me, and said if I joined a freak show I’d be set for the rest of my life.”

Without malice or resentment, Elena’s tone had the stoicism of an old woman, but her emotions burned beneath the words like a blazing fireball. That she’d been able to cling to those feelings for a dozen years without going insane was surely a fearful accomplishment.

Closing her top, Elena looked down at the ground. The emptiness that came after her explosion of emotion gnawed away at her confidence.

With the bundle of weapons over one shoulder, D walked off into the ruins without saying a word, leaving Elena there alone. But as the figure was walking away, he then said something. “Come on,” was what it sounded like to Elena. Perhaps it’d been something else, but that was good enough for her. Delight coursing through every inch of her, the girl followed.

The bags D had unloaded a day earlier were still there.

“It’ll be night soon,” said Elena. “I’ll fix something to eat. You can’t very well fight those bastards on an empty stomach. So, where would your pans—,” she began to ask, then hastily cupped her hand over her mouth. “You don’t want any dinner, do you?”

“That’s right. If you want anything to eat, you’ll have to make your own arrangements.”

“You don’t even have any bacon or bread?”

“No,” D replied.

“I guess you never figured you’d have anyone else around. Sorry—I didn’t mean anything personal by that. I’ll go get some food and a pan and stuff. You do at least drink coffee, don’t you?”

“Weren’t you supposed to be going soon?” asked the Hunter.

“I can’t believe you could work as a Vampire Hunter if you’re so quick to believe everything everyone tells you.”

Carrying the bundle of longswords, D walked off deeper into the ruins.

“This’ll be ready in no time,” Elena called out to him.

“I’ll be back soon,” the Hunter replied.

True to his word, he returned less than ten minutes later empty-handed.

“What happened to the swords?”

“I spread them around.”

“You don’t say,” Elena remarked as she handed him a cup of steaming brew. “You know,” she continued, “I’m curious as to why you came to our village. Because I’d heard that usually even if a Vampire Hunter found a Noble, he’d just let it go unless he’d been hired.”

“I’ve been hired.”

Elena fairly bugged her eyes at his reply. “By who?!” she blurted out.

“Someone who asked me not to say.”

If that was actually the case, the young man’s lips would remain tight as stone. Elena quickly threw in the towel. All she knew for certain was that he was here with her now. That would have to be enough. Sooner or later, he was going to leave.

The girl swallowed her watery sorrows along with her warm beverage.

“You suppose they’ll come?” she asked as she wrapped both hands around her cup.

“Yes. I don’t know whether or not they’ll go after the village, but they’ll want to take care of me.”

“But that bitch asked you to kill her knights before!”

“And do you believe everything a Noble tells you?”

“No—so stop teasing me!” Elena cried, growing bright red. Although she didn’t think he was actually mocking her, she couldn’t really be sure—when he never smiled and was always such a stick in the mud, it was really hard to say for certain.

“If I’m going to kill them, I have to fight them,” said D. “Given their immense motivation, they’ll be ready to fight to the death. What’s more, they’ll have been punished for their unauthorized attack on the villagers.”

“I don’t get that, either. How could they go against the princess? I could understand the Nobility murdering villagers, but why would the knights? Is that supposed to be their idea of loyalty?”

“Perhaps.”

The Hunter’s terse answer made Elena forget what she was about to say. Silence descended, and the only thing she could feel was the wind that stroked her cheek.

“Are you scared?” asked D.

“Yeah,” she replied. She felt terribly meek. “But being here with you, I should be feeling pretty confident. Don’t look at me. I’m shaking like a leaf. I’ve been on my own for a dozen years, and I was never afraid of anything in all that time. I always planned on taking out the Noble and her knights, even if it meant I got taken down in the process. Nothing anyone in the village said ever bothered me. And yet now, I’m scared. I feel like a baby could whip me. Why did you have to come to our village? And why’d you make such a coward out of me . . . ?”

“There comes a time when everyone, man or woman, young or old, has to take up arms. Even the cowards. You’re out on the Frontier,” D told her.

An incredible scene drifted to the fore in Elena’s mind. It wasn’t her parents being attacked by a pale young woman. Nor was it herself being slashed by the White Knight. It was the very embodiment of beauty getting back up after the Blue Knight’s lance had pierced his abdomen.

“I was wondering—aren’t you in pain?” asked the girl.

“Pain?”

“From last night. That bastard put his lance clean through you—even for a dhampir, that’s gotta hurt, right?”

“Does the thought of that bother you?”

“It might,” Elena replied, trying to be evasive. She suddenly felt she didn’t want him to see her as weak. Even she couldn’t fathom the turn her emotions were taking.

“The pain I felt when it stabbed into me was no different from what an ordinary person would feel,” D replied.

Elena remained gazing intently at him, but for a few seconds she couldn’t say a word. He bled. He felt pain, too. How many times over would this gorgeous man die in the course of his life? Elena shuddered—she seemed to shake with every bit of energy she had. And when the shaking subsided, her fear had gone. The intense nature of D’s answer had changed the very face of the girl.

“We’ve got a few hours until sunset. Take a rest.”

With those words, D set his cup down and stood up.

Not speaking as she watched him leave, Elena slowly counted to ten before starting off after him. Although she didn’t really think she could go unnoticed or even manage to trail him very well, she simply had to satisfy her curiosity. There had to be something to these ruins. It seemed to her as if D had been aware of that from the very start and had come out here seeking it.

In the center of the ruins, D knelt before one of the stone columns and ran his fingers around its base. Elena knew that ancient letters and symbols were inscribed there. When she was just a child, the wind and rain had already worn the markings away into illegibility, but she wondered if the young man would be able to decipher the past.

“Come over here,” D said, the abrupt command knocking the wind from Elena.

“You don’t believe in keeping much secret, I guess,” she said as she walked over to him. “What did this used to be? I mean, I can’t believe how interested you are in this place. Don’t tell me it holds some kind of secret about the Nobility.”

“That’s right,” the Hunter replied.

“Tell me, then. I’ll probably wind up dead tonight. I don’t wanna go out wondering about this.”

“These are the ruins of a fortress,” D said nonchalantly.

“A fortress?! Whose?”

“I don’t know. From what I could read of the remaining inscriptions, it belonged to humans. And it’s rather ancient—more than two thousand years old.”

“A fortress from two millennia ago—this area must’ve been a lot wilder back then. I wonder if colonists could’ve built it.”

“I don’t know any more than that.”

A question suddenly burst free of the girl’s brain. Elena made a desperate effort to recapture it, but before she could pop it like a soap bubble, it floated off her lips.

“When you came to our village, you headed straight out here. You knew about this place beforehand, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think a Vampire Hunter would come all the way out here to investigate some ruins, so I have to wonder if you weren’t hired to do this, too.”

“It’ll be twilight soon,” D said as he looked up at the heavens.

The sunlight held a tinge of blue. Two shadows fell on the stone floor. One was vivid, the other faint.

“I guess so,” Elena said, facing the manor. Soon a light sparked in one of its windows. That was the call to arms. “I wonder if the princess and her three knights will all come,” she mused.

In her imagination, the ecstatic Elena painted a picture of herself and D fighting side-by-side, soaked in gore.

In no time, the moon came out.

—

II

—

“The moon is up,” said the Black Knight. He was in a room in the manor, and the royal blue of the night sky was visible through a spot where the ceiling had collapsed.

“Are you absolutely determined to go? The princess has given us no such mandate,” said the Red Knight, who’d been standing behind his stationary compatriot and watching him for some time.

“I realize that. And that is why I’ve waited until night. Given the circumstances, the princess may elect to send us out. Or perhaps she’ll give the order for us to accompany her. However, even if she doesn’t, I’m going. You yourself saw the way the Blue Knight died. The one who killed him must be made to pay, and those of us who yet live must exact that payment.”

“Even if that means disregarding the will of the princess?”

“Aye,” the Black Knight replied without a second’s hesitation.

Gazing at him with adoration, the Red Knight said, “I shall go with you.”

Now it was the Black Knight’s turn to ask the same question. “Even if it means disobeying the princess?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll meet the same fate that I have.”

“I don’t care,” said the Red Knight. Only now, his voice echoed with a certain something that was neither purely rage nor pity. The punishment that’d been carried out in the stained-glass chamber had been branded into his retinas. And the ghastly results of it were before his very eyes.

The Black Knight’s right arm had been taken off at the shoulder.

“Then you’re to follow my directions,” the Black Knight insisted as he turned to the Red Knight.

“I swear it.”

“Obey the princess’s instructions. I forbid you to disobey her. If you ever so much as harbor such thoughts again, you’ll be marked a traitor.”

For a moment the Red Knight was stunned, but a second later he began to say, “But I—”

“No arguments,” the Black Knight stated firmly. The steely gravity of his tone repressed the rebellious fervor in the Red Knight. “The princess’s tack now is different from that in the past. Perhaps the weariness I feel comes from her. However, I am no Noble. I can’t imagine what kind of thoughts might instill such feelings in her, or how those emotions might manifest. Most likely—”

Something hidden in the unfinished portion of that last sentence made the Red Knight grow tense.

“—it will bode ill for all involved? How right you are!”

At the sound of that echoing voice, the two knights looked all around in astonishment, and then turned back the way they’d been facing.

Beside a stone pillar on the point of collapse stood the princess. To her rear, the darkness was crushed beneath a spreading mass of roses, roses, and more roses. And their glow.

“Aren’t you the stubborn one,” the princess remarked, skewering the Black Knight with her smile.

The two fell to one knee.

“However,” the Noblewoman continued, “you won’t be going anywhere tonight. You’re to remain here.”

“If I might explain, Princess.”

“You needn’t bother,” the woman said with a sweep of the white rose in her hand. Leaving a trail of light behind it, the glowing bloom was swallowed by the darkness. “I understand how angry all of you must be. But that Hunter is a formidable opponent. Do you want to end up like the Blue Knight?”

“That shall depend on the Hunter,” the Black Knight replied with all due respect and fealty.

“No. I shall be the one to go see him.”

The two knights looked up at their mistress, and for the first time since entering her service they dared to voice their opposition, shouting, “You mustn’t!”

Although the Red Knight was shaken as the Black Knight glared at him, the princess didn’t seem at all perturbed by their outburst.

“Never fear. I shall have a different escort,” she said.

“The White Knight?”

“No. A group you’ve not seen these last two centuries.”

The Black Knight alone seemed to understand, as he looked up at her and said, “You don’t mean—them?”

“None other.”

“Princess, I say this fully prepared to accept any additional punishments. But that is one thing you simply cannot do!”

“Why is that?!” she inquired.

“As soon as you let them loose outside, it’ll be a scene of bloody carnage,” the Black Knight replied. “I’m quite certain they could slay a dhampir. They could annihilate the villagers as well. However, the bloodthirsty beasts will forget your commands and leave your domain, completely indiscriminate in their unending search for blood. That cannot be. That is not what our wise princess would do. Oh, Princess—whatever has come over you?”

“Over me?”

“Once again, I ask this prepared to suffer a thousand deaths,” the Black Knight said, sounding as if he were coughing out blood instead of words.

Listening intently, the Red Knight hung his head without saying a word.

“Princess, you have changed over the last few years. Though I can’t describe exactly how, you seem like a different person. I cannot comprehend your thoughts or feelings, milady.”

“My, how you pry into my affairs,” the enchanting princess spat. “Red Knight, do you share his opinion?”

“I do, milady,” he replied, but the very second he spoke, a flash of black shot from beside him and knocked him to the floor before he could avoid it.

“How dare you say such a thing—Please overlook his insolence, milady,” the Black Knight apologized with a deep bow.

“Good enough,” said the princess. “But I said I would send them, and send them I shall. As for you, Black Knight—you’re to be incarcerated. Red Knight, lock him away.”

Either the Red Knight remained conscious when knocked to the floor or he’d since regained his senses, because he gazed at the Black Knight and responded with a troubled, “Yes, milady.”

Still holding a rose in her mouth, the princess said, “Do you intend to interfere with me, even if it means you must go through the Red Knight? Or will you turn your sword against me?”

“No. Your orders will be followed,” the Black Knight replied. His answer had a bitter taste to it.

The darkness grew denser and denser while the four-colored roses glowed stunningly.

—

Poised with his left hand resting against the pillar, D turned suddenly in the direction of the manor. There wasn’t a sound on the night wind. Nevertheless, the hand he had pressed against the pillar asked him, “Did you hear that?”

“They’re coming,” D replied succinctly.

“That they are. Ten of them, I’d say. On horseback. But what I sense isn’t the knights. With those guys, you can’t tell if they’re dead or alive. But these characters are all definitely dead.”

“Wraith knights,” D muttered.

“Bingo. And they’ve got this awfully powerful energy protecting them. That’d have to be the woman’s doing.”

“Are they coming?”

D turned to the entrance of the ruin and replied to the girl who sat there with an electron lantern in hand. “They’ll be here soon.”

Elena got right up, without nervousness, hesitation or even fear.

“This is what I’ve been waiting for,” said the girl. “Where did you figure we’d fight them?”

“You’re going to be here.”

“What do you mean?!” Elena cried.

“It’s not the knights that are on the way, but a band of dead men. And those who’ve died once can’t be killed a second time.”

“Well, what are you gonna do then?”

“I have no choice but to kill them.”

Although Elena found that to be the very epitome of contradiction, on reconsideration she decided this young man’s skill with a blade probably would be enough to kill the dead once more.

“At this point, I’m not about to sit back and be a good little girl. Take me with you,” the biker told D. “Hell, if you insist on turning me down, I’ll just go off and fight anyway.”

“Staying in the ruins is part of the battle, too.”

“That’s just double-talk,” Elena said as she searched in the bike for another weighted chain.

“We’ll see soon enough. But when the time comes, I need you to be right in here.”

“Really?”

“Really,” D replied.

“I believe you. And I won’t have you worrying about me at a time like this.”

Not saying a word, D left her and set off across the plains that lay between them and the castle.

There was a breeze. The green grass swayed in the moonlight. And there stood the Hunter—that alone formed a picture. Any artist who could’ve committed to canvas the inner thoughts of the young man as he stood there between life and death would’ve become a prisoner of his own madness, although the resulting painting would surely endure forever as a treasure of the art world.

“Here they come,” a hoarse voice said some five minutes after the Hunter had taken that position on the plain. The ruins were roughly five hundred yards away.

The riders approaching across the grasslands seemed to float in a horrifying sort of slow motion. Both mounts and riders were covered by dull gray armor. Reaching a spot about thirty feet shy of D, they halted. Their movements were so quiet that all but the most intent of listeners would’ve missed the sounds completely.

“The wraith knights—I’ve heard of them,” said the Hunter’s left hand.

There was no reply at all, as if it had been addressing the moon.

The ash gray figures lingered there in the moonlight like veritable ghosts. Shreee! squealed the leader’s blade as it slid from the scabbard on the knight’s hip. At the same time, the other nine drew their weapons in unison. Three had swords, three more bows, and the last three had lances. Their weapons differed little from those of the four knights.

“Where are the princess and the others?” asked D.

One of riders raised its head and laughed. But no voice came out. Its laughter had stopped.

D was up over its head. The Hunter’s thirty-foot leap had no doubt been faster than the wraith knight’s eyes could follow. With a grating sound and a shower of sparks the blade of D’s sword crumpled, but it also plowed right through the knight from the top of its head all the way down to its abdomen.

As he came back to earth, D looked at his foe. The feeling he’d gotten from his blade hadn’t been ordinary resistance.

Something like a white fog poured from the crack in the iron. In places, the cloud glittered as if it were laced with silver. Once the fog had fallen from the horse back to the ground, it took on a human form. An insect on the plain came into contact with the fog-like being and suddenly fell over.

“Death essence?” said the Hunter’s left hand.

Some might’ve called it a supernatural aura or an eerie miasma. But as it took the life of anything that touched it right on the spot, “death essence” seemed the most fitting name. This was the true form of the band of ghostly riders.

The hazy mass moved toward D, seeming to be both borne on the wind and fighting it at the same time.

The Hunter no longer had a sword. And even if he’d still possessed one, it would’ve been impossible to cut this amorphous and unearthly cloud.

As for D—he did nothing but stand still.

—

Elena had no knowledge of D’s deadly battle. The darkness had already grown quite heavy, and her eyes couldn’t see more than a hundred fifty feet. An unsettling mist seemed to billow up around her, covering her skin with goose bumps. Giving a shudder, Elena held out her electron lantern.

Something suddenly dampened the light. A single white rose had landed on the top of the lantern. And Elena discovered that its thin stem had sunk right through the metal roof of her light.

“But this is—,” she began to say, and then her lantern went out.

There in the darkness, with nothing save the moonlight, the rose alone glowed as if it were ablaze.

“A gift to replace that boorish light of yours.”

Raising her gaze from the rose that’d kept her riveted, Elena found the lovely princess standing before her. Aside from D, she had to wonder who else would’ve looked so perfect standing out in the moonlight. Elena got the feeling she could see the scenery behind the woman right through the surpassing paleness of her countenance.

“What are you supposed to be, the vanguard or something?” the biker asked. She felt strangely calm.

“I suppose I may be, at that. My interest was piqued when I learned you were out here. No doubt that was all D’s doing. There’s no way a lowly human could understand the significance of this place, even though it was humans that constructed it.”

“Two thousand years ago, right?”

Donning a somewhat surprised expression, the princess said, “Information courtesy of D, I presume. He’s also bound to notice me here sooner or later.”

“If I finish you off before that, it won’t matter either way,” Elena said as the weighted end of a chain spilled from her right hand. This one was a lot thicker than what she usually carried.

Still staring fixedly at the princess, Elena began to spin the chain in a circle with her right hand. The growling whup whup whup of it became a whistling shooshooshoo, and then it moved beyond the realm of sound.

“My, aren’t you the skillful one,” the princess declared, clapping her hands.

Though Elena realized the woman was needling her, she couldn’t afford to get angry. Her consciousness was focused solely on destroying the lovely princess.

Without making a sound, the princess moved behind a stone pillar to avoid the shrilly whistling weight at the end of the chain. But the chain went right after her.

“Dear me!” the woman cried in surprise, her exclamation mingled with the sound of steel biting into stone.

While it was unclear what kind of trick the girl had used, the chain that pursued the princess had wrapped around both the Noblewoman and the pillar with enough force to dig into both flesh and stone.

“You fell for it, sucker!” Elena roared with delight as she raced over to the princess.

There wasn’t a shred of mercy in the girl. In her right hand she held a finely honed stake of unfinished wood. Raising it high over her head, she shouted, “Here’s your ticket to the afterlife, your majesty!”

But as Elena brought the weapon down, four shades of light shimmered before her eyes.

“Oh!” the girl cried when the hand she waved through the glowing blobs told her they were no illusion. They had substance.

There were red roses. And blue. And even black.

Though Elena batted them away time and again, more and more new flowers surrounded her, obscuring her view and, worse yet, forming a dazzling riot of color that assailed her brain and left her dizzy.

“Damn it all!” the biker growled.

From the madly eddying flowers a length of chain looped out and wound around a lintel that connected two of the stone columns. As Elena swung up on it, the four-tone stream flowed after her.

Up on the lintel, Elena pulled a tiny oilpaper packet from her shirt pocket and shook the white powder it contained over her own head. And it was a sight to see as every flower that touched her then curled its petals and lost its color before falling back to earth.

“Mama Kipsch’s special herbicide! Have some!” Elena shouted, and she was about to scatter the rest of the powder over the princess down below when the breath was knocked out of her.

The other chain was tangled on the ground, and there was no sign of the pale figure.

“Here I am! Over here!”

As she whipped around to face the voice she heard behind her, Elena let fly with the chain she still had.

Winding it around her right hand, the princess smiled elegantly. “It would be so easy to kill you,” she said to the girl. “Like so.”

With one tug of her hand she easily snatched away Elena’s chain.

“Would you like me to strangle you with this? Or would you prefer that I tear your limbs off one by one?”

Beads of sweat formed at a furious rate on Elena’s brow.

—

III

—

The wind began to sweep across the plain—a wind that carried death. Borne on it, the death essence might drift anywhere. And any living thing it touched would perish.

At present, it was squaring off against D. The white humanoid shape spread into an amorphous cloud, then gusted at the Hunter. As D leapt backward, he raised his left hand as if to ward off his attacker, and the fog enveloped it. The hand turned a dull brown color, but quickly returned to its original hue.

“That’s one hell of a death essence, all right,” a pained voice said. It was still coughing. “There’s no way to kill this thing from the outside. I might be able to handle one or two, but if I were to suck up any more than that, I could be a goner. Wait a sec and I’ll look into a few things.”

At that point, one of the other riders tumbled noisily from the saddle. A white substance seeped from the armor and circled around behind D’s back.

Several streaks of light flew from D’s left hand at a terrific speed, yet after piercing the man-shaped cloud of fog, they wobbled lazily for another three feet before falling to the ground. Now stained black, the bare wooden needles crumbled, rotten to the very core.

By the look of things, any weapon—be it a sword or even a bullet—would be utterly useless here.

The fog laughed. No, it might’ve just been the fault of the wind shaking its upper body a tad, but the night air had definitely carried a sound that was not a sound, and it had resembled laughter.

The fog slowly drifted closer to D from the front. Behind him was the other mass. A split second before the latter could wrap its pale arms about D’s body, the Hunter rose into the air. As part of the death essence closing on him continued to flow forward, the rest of the mass spun around with terrific force, while the cloud of death essence to D’s rear backed away with equal decisiveness.

As D landed, he twisted his body. The blow he’d narrowly escaped split the tail of his coat as the lance jabbed into the earth. In rapid succession a second and a third followed—and though the attacks came at a speed no average person or even professional warrior could’ve dodged, D narrowly slipped through them without incident and dove into the very ranks of the wraith knights.

Two swords flew up with a metallic rasp, and a pair of the wraiths were unhorsed. It’s doubtful even the wraith knights could believe that the lance D held in his hand was the same one that’d just been aimed at him. However, even D would find it impossible to destroy a shapeless cloud unaffected by any weapon. How would he fight it? And how could he kill it?

—

Elena quickly wiped the sweat from her brow with her left hand. If it were to run into her eyes, it would be the death of her. The princess was ten feet ahead. And she’d taken away one of the biker’s chains. She glared at the princess for all she was worth. If she let the Noblewoman break her spirit, she’d be beat.

The princess looked back at Elena.

“I remember you,” the princess said with a knowing nod. “Your parents and siblings all ended up on my dinner menu. And I believe the White Knight gave you a wound you’d carry for the rest of your life. How interesting.”

Her grinning face was as bewitching as the moon, yet as innocent as that of the purest maiden. And that was why Elena was as chilled as if she’d been doused with ice water.

“Now that I think of it, crushing you alone would accomplish nothing. Perhaps I should find another use for you. Oh, I know,” she laughed. “I shall give you a different wound.”

As the smile on the princess’s lips grew broader and more unsettling, Elena turned away out of reflex. The more beautiful a Noble’s smile was, the stronger the human urge was to look away. And because of that, the girl didn’t notice the white rose flying from the princess’s right hand. When it stuck in her left breast, she felt a slight pain and looked down. But the rose was already gone.

“What did you do?”

“See for yourself. Look at your chest.”

Like a woman possessed, Elena tore open the front of her shirt. The revolting “x” was fading. But in return, something smaller but even more terrifying had been etched on her left breast—a tattoo of a white rose so exquisitely detailed it seemed it could only be the handiwork of an angel.

Despair sucked the strength from her very cells. For in Elena’s eyes, nothing could’ve been crueler than being marked with this symbol of the Nobility. Staggering, she fell from the rock lintel. The princess’s hand caught her by the scruff of the neck.

But even as she was hauled back up, Elena couldn’t so much as manage to ask the princess to kill her. Her face was like that of a corpse, and a cheery voice whispered in her ear, “No need to be so despondent. Soon you’ll feel ever so much better. Once you’ve experienced the privileges of one of my servants with your own flesh, that is.”

And as she finished speaking, the princess suddenly looked down below her. A slight tremor had reached her through the ground.

“An earthquake?” she muttered as a shadow spread across her beautiful countenance. “Does this hateful fortress yet live? Impossible!”

Her body swayed as the quaking of the earth and its related rumblings overwhelmed the night.

“Oh, my—this is quite a pickle,” the princess said, although where she’d learned such an expression was anyone’s guess.

Putting Elena under one arm, the princess leapt down to the ground. From above her, tiny fragments of stone rained down.

“I don’t have the time to wait around and see what happens next. I’m also curious to see how D and his playmates made out.”

The woman then started off across the plain. Elena never left her grip for a second.

—

Knights were closing on the Hunter from either side. The one on his right had a lance, while the one on his left had a longsword. Just as they were about to bring their weapons down on D, the knights swapped armaments—the one on the right took the sword and the one on the left the lance.

When the weapons in play changed, an opponent had to alter his strategy accordingly. And if the exchange could be done in a matter of seconds, it could only result in confusion on the part of the person preparing to defend himself. In the case of simultaneous attacks, there would really be no way at all to defend oneself.

The lance and sword swung home.

Surprise was not an emotion the wraiths possessed. Nevertheless, the vibrations that swept through the air in that instant were nothing but pure shock. The sword blade slashing down from the right was caught by D’s left hand, while a lance in the Hunter’s other hand parried the lance that came at him from the left. That would’ve been strange enough if the Hunter had been facing them. But just before the wraith knights launched their attack—in the very instant they traded weapons—they saw D turn his back to them. Though they realized he’d seen through their plan of attack, they’d been unsure of what to do next. They’d already struck at him with the lance and sword.

Once he’d snatched away the longsword, D made a bound. But who in the world could leap onto the back of a horse as it was galloping by?

D could, and he did. Standing on back of the steed carrying the sword-wielding knight, he kicked the rider off the mount and seized the reins. Seeing this, the other knights charged him en masse.

“D, give me some of your blood,” his left hand said. “It’s only a temporary measure, but I’ve come up with a substance these boys aren’t gonna like. Hurry!”

Taking his hand off the reins and holding his longsword with his teeth, D put his right wrist against the blade and gave a hard pull. The warm liquid that spilled out landed in the palm of his left hand. And his palm opened its mouth and gulped down the fresh blood.

“Stick out your sword!”

Taking the sword he clenched between his teeth in his right hand, D ran his left hand along the blade. When vermilion smoke billowed from his palm to discolor the blade, the riders ahead of him launched a number of arrows at him. They weren’t wooden—even the shafts and fletchings were iron. If they were to strike a human body, the impact would rip the flesh apart.

D stopped every last one of them with his left hand. It looked more like he was catching paper airplanes. As the Hunter rode right by the knight, who’d been paralyzed and without a chance to nock another arrow, his longsword flashed out. The wraith’s torso ripped open.

Without even looking back, D raced toward his next opponent—a white fog was closing on him from the fore. Apparently, it’d realized it would only be at a disadvantage fighting him in its armor. Pulling on the reins to circle around to the right, D swung his blade.

The fog shuddered. The part that approximated a human head split in two, and then began to fuse together once more. But the pieces didn’t stay together. As it moved its hand-like portions, the figure lost the details of its shape and became a mass of fog that dropped to the ground. Two or three spasms shook the mass, and then it barely managed to rise again. Staggering all the while, it started back across the plain to the manor. The rider that followed after it must’ve been the same one that’d been slashed through the torso seconds earlier.

The Hunter’s foes were unnerved and restless. From the very start, they’d known he wasn’t the kind to meet them with conventional tactics. They all backed away at once.

The survivors then launched arrows—not at D, but toward the sky. Apparently the missiles had some sort of special mechanism, because in mid-flight the tail ends of them began to leave glowing trails before they were enveloped in dazzling flames about thirty feet above the earth. What’s more, they neither rose nor dropped, hanging in the sky dribbling sparks—and then a second later, they exploded. A halo bright enough to burn a sharp shadow of D on the ground spread out, and from the center of it a number of fiery streaks raced out at D and the plains. Flames billowed up. Night became day, and the flames spreading across the ground quickly melted together and leapt to new locations like wildfire.

Avoiding the flames, D retreated to the entrance to the ruins.

More fire arrows went up, giving rise to additional walls of flame. The wind grew fiercer. The plains were burning. And as the flames spread as far as the eye could see, they somehow looked like water. Like a glittering sea stretching out to the night horizon.

From their steeds, the wraith knights nocked more fiery arrows. Twice as long and twice as thick, they were set to spread the blaze not only to the ruins but into the very village of Sacri itself.

It was at just that moment that the earth rumbled. One after another the horses threw their riders, and then the mounts themselves fell over. The shaking was more than that of a simple earthquake. Unseen waves surged through the air, and the knights caught up in the turbulence were knocked flat in the blink of an eye. White masses wriggled out through gaps in the gray armor, but as a second wave washed over them they went into spasms, and then moved no more. And the waves were equally ruthless as they assailed the wraith knights that’d already taken flight.

“That will be quite enough.”

D turned in the direction of the voice and found the princess and Elena.

“And here I believed all this time that I was the only one who knew the secret of these ruins. You don’t miss a trick, do you?” the lovely princess said with a shrug after looking at what had seemed to be nothing save humble remains.

The fortification had been constructed centuries earlier by a human sect with wisdom that put them on par with the Nobility, yet it still retained its ancient capabilities. Naturally, the only reason those forces had gone into action just now was D’s own supernatural powers.

“Hand over the girl,” said D.

“This girl,” the princess replied, “is already one of my kind. Though to be honest, I just finished doing the honors. Are you going to try and save her, D? It won’t be as easy with her as it was with the others. I’ve dealt her a harsh blow, you see.”

Elena’s expression was vacant. Tears wouldn’t even flow from her eyes.

“I’ll give you the girl. You needn’t do anything about her, D. Your job is to kill me, is it not? This waif is no part of that. Just leave her to grow paler night after night till her fangs pop out and she runs amok, drinking blood indiscriminately. Even if you do nothing, I’m sure the villagers will be good enough to dispose of her. You did well to send my wraith knights into retreat, but apparently you weren’t up to the task of destroying them. Oh, my lovely visitor,” she laughed, “today’s festivities are but a dress rehearsal. The main event will come tomorrow or the next day, or perhaps a year from now.”

“Didn’t you want me to get rid of your knights?” D asked in a tone like ice.

As if it’d just dawned on her, the enchanting princess responded, “Oh, that’s right! I did, didn’t I? Then I’ll bring them out tomorrow. Three against one would simply be too dangerous, so we’ll take them one by one. I’ll start sending them tomorrow night. You’ll just have to wait and see which one I choose to send first.”

And with a haughty laugh, the princess turned the rose she held in her hand upside down. Tiny flecks that glowed in the moonlight rained down on the earth.

“Very well, that shall be all for this evening,” she said. “Oh, I’ll thank you not to run after me with that ratty old sword. Well, as they said in one of the ancient tongues, ‘Zaijian!’”

As the princess headed for her manor, D galloped after her. Although her horse practically flew, his mount was swifter. But he’d only chased her for a few yards when the ground suddenly swelled up before him. The soil had taken on four hues. It was a wall made of roses. High and wide it stretched, like a barricade to check D’s advance.

“That’s my rose rampart. Can you get by it?” the princess sneered in the distance, and D halted before a wall of flowers easily thirty feet high and half a mile long, even the very presence of the Noblewoman faded away.

“There’s just no figuring that woman,” his left hand said. “She’s seriously out to kill you, yet she also meant it when she asked you to take out her knights. I don’t have a clue what she’s really thinking. Anyway, what are you gonna do about the girl? You just gonna forget about her?”